a love letter to China
Dear China,
How are things? I know, I know, I should have written sooner. After all, we’ve been together for five years now – can you believe it? As they say, ‘time flies when you’re having fun’. We’ve definitely had some fun together.
I remember when we first met (almost by accident). I never imagined that we’d hit it off like we did. Back then, everything about you seemed magical to me. You were so different than what I’d known before. You were so full of surprises – and every day I spent with you seemed surreal and wonderful.
Visiting the Forbidden City in Beijing on my very first trip to China in 2005
Remember the day I saw a woman carrying a baby in one arm and using her free hand to help push her husband’s three-wheeled truck (filled with plywood) up a hill? Or the time a man carrying an unsheathed, giant meat cleaver stood next to me on a crowded bus and I was the only person who seemed to notice? Remember the long bike rides I used to take out into the countryside west of Zhengzhou? Those rides always made me feel like an explorer – and each new village I rode into felt like a discovery.
And the food. China, you’ve always seemed to understand the way to my heart. You’ve given me noodles…unbelievable noodles. Fried noodles served in flimsy Styrofoam bowls on the street. Giant bowls of thin noodles in salty beef broth. Thick noodles, handmade by young men in track suits attempting to hip-hop dance, stretch noodles, and entertain large crowds of noisy customers simultaneously. And my favorite – noodles covered in mud-colored, salty, garlic-laden, bitter sauce. Yes, I love your noodles.
But beyond noodles, you’ve opened my eyes to a world of food I never knew existed. You stretched my palate – no, stretched is the wrong word – you destroyed my palate, and rebuilt it China-size; bigger, wilder, better. You taught me to love tofu. And fresh yogurt served in glass bottles with paper lids. And wheat gluten marinated in oil, vinegar, sugar and spices. You served me baked duck heads, deep fried eel bones, barbecued dog, pickled chicken stomach, stir-fried flowers, roasted pig snout, grilled scorpion, and so much more. When I didn’t love the flavor, I loved the ingenuity of your cuisine.
With my friend, Cole, during my first trip to the Great Wall in 2005. I've been back four times since.
For me, China, your food typifies what I love about you. Over the past five years, I’ve never known what to expect. Sometimes you frustrated me with your unpredictability, but I was never bored. As with your food, your people, culture and language have also stretched me into someone new; someone more patient, open-minded, and concerned with the World beyond my own neighborhood. To borrow a term I know you love to use – You’ve truly made my life so much more “colorful”.
As you know, China, I’m in America now. I’ve been here for about a week, and it’s been great seeing my family again. I love America – but you already know that. America is my home – it’s where I’m most comfortable, and where I’ll always fit in best. But, that doesn’t change my love for you. Life isn’t found in comfort.
I’ll miss you while I’m away, and I’ll think of you daily.
Love,
aaron
Aaron Carmichael is an author of short stories and was both a teacher and a student in China.
