As Always, the Adventure Continues

I've thought about this post for months. I figured it would be easy because of that one reason. And somehow I still find myself lost for words. I've collected ideas for this post for MONTHS! And I still am feeing totally dumbfounded. But, I'll give it a shot. 

I've reached the end. I'm sitting on the plane. I say "the" plane because I'm writing this over a three-legged journey. Shanghai-Beijing-Los Angeles-Denver. Just in case you don't know, Denver is in America. Which would be where this journey began. Who knew I'd actually come home? Didn't see that one coming! I suppose I did in some aspect. Yet, it still hit me as a shock this morning as I packed. But as I said, I have had a plan for this post for a long time now. God forbid I stray from the plan now! 

The last two days Johann and I spent in Shanghai. We had a dinner with Cheryl to say farewell. Quite possibly the best.... No, hands down the best burgers I've ever had in my life. And they were buy one, get one! Then the next day, Johann and I revisited our favorite spots in Shanghai, to say farewell. We began looking for the dumpling place Brian took us for breakfast. We never did find it and setted for a little cafe place. Then we went back to the market and practiced bargaining. I conquered my fear and always knocked prices down at least 80%. I finally said we had to leave if we were going to save our budget at all. Incredibly fun- once you get used to it. 

We wandered around for hours afterwards. Then, after a quick nap, went to the Bund to enjoy the night lights. I had read about a hidden rooftop bar that was supposed to have great views. It was above a hostel which meant that the environment was relaxed and all tourists. But the view was five stars. An interrupted view of the lights across the river. Sparkling lights glimmered across the darkened water. Boats slowed as if to show off their decorated lighting. People crowded on the sidewalk. Everyone wanted to be in the perfect weather and soak in the beauty. We sat on our perch listening to the many languages intermingle into one behind us. We toasted to a great month and the perfect send off from China. The clinks of glasses were drowned by the promise: "Until next time China." 

Ironically, I totally strayed from the plan already. My plan was for this to just be a "reflective" post. ... I guess they all are, huh? But long term reflective. But here's why I strayed from the plan. Sitting on that rooftop bar, it was like I watched a movie of the last couple months. I started thinking about it, and man, what a trip this has been! 

It started over a year ago. Sitting in my kitchen dreading college, I told my dad I wanted to take a year off. I had no idea where that would lead. Then a few months later, I was suppressing tears on a doctor's examination table. Months delay on a single year trip?! No. It couldn't be! I remember trying to get a grip. "It is going to be okay." "It's happening for a reason." Everyone's words echoed through my ears. I went that day to the Flatirons, found a quiet spot over looking gorgeous Boulder and the blue skies. I let myself cry. Then I figured out how I would make the best of it. A few weeks, one surgery, and a lot of physical therapy, I had done it. And I'd even made the best of it. I'd used the time to make connections with people I never would have otherwise. People who changed my life and made me a better person. I got to spend time with my family that wouldn't have happened. I even was able to spend Christmas at home and New Year's with my favorite little girls. I would have never ever planned it that way, but it was better than I could have ever imagined. Man, life is beautiful. 

January 6th I was sitting on a plane, wishing I hadn't planned this stupid trip. How could I do this by myself? But I landed in Zürich nonetheless. Florian walked in, picked up my bag, and walked back out. Off we went. Over the next couple weeks I was fortunate enough to get to know my Swiss family more than I ever have before. I spent days exploring with Tommy, the ultimate tour guide. I spent hours upon hours talking with Sarah about everything from baking to love to Chemistry- the subject, not related to love! Dinners let me get to know Sigmund more than I ever had before. Man, life is beautiful. 

If you had asked me January 5th if I'd be at the Orthodox New Year in Serbia, I would have laughed. But there I was. Fireworks rained down on my estatic smile. My new friends stood around me. I explored monasteries in Serbia as the sun lit up the gorgeous green rolling hills. I spent time meeting David and Alex and making new friends that gathered me into their homes like a lifelong friend. Man, life is beautiful. 

I can't remember exactly, but I think Florian and I had a day in between Serbia and our next adventure. I can't even fathom how to sum up this adventure. Chills consumed me standing in the Westminster Abbey. My eyes widened in excitement at the Tower of London. Ireland... My goodness. Beauty that is unsurpassable. Singing and dancing in the car as the ocean waves crashed against the shore next to us. Exploring castles on the ocean front. Standing on a cliffside letting violent wind whip tears off my face as my heart was being mended by breathing in fresh air and salty water. Seeing the heart break in graffiti on the walls of people fighting for what they believe. But more than all those amazing moments, making incredible bonds with cousins I had never talked to before. Letting the same cousins whisk me off to ice cream in order to stop the tears in Dublin. Crawling through a "rainbow" and bursting into tears on the other end. The long conversations, the debates, the laughter. Man, life is beautiful. 

Sitting on the plane to Spain, I felt oddly peaceful. I wasn't nervous or, truthfully, over excited. I just was ready. At least I thought I was. But I wasn't. I had no idea the effect Spain would have on me. My heart, my soul, my entire being changed. I studied a language that connected me to, I'm convinced, some of the best people on this planet. The family that opened their arms to me are, in my eyes, part of my family now. Arturo and Elisa taught me about love, trust, life, and so much more. They gave me a world of opportunities that I can never thank them for. The long talks with Teresa, the laughter, the tears, the love. The beauty Spain holds. The sun, the snow, the beaches, the sand, the trees, the mountains, the cliffs. The fun Spain can offer. The culture, traditions! But more importantly, the new home I found. I can't believe how at home I felt. It's a different thing when you stumble upon a home when you're meant to be traveling. The peace that comes with it makes it all worth it. Man, life is beautiful. 

China was different because I didn't feel ready, and I sure wasn't ready. Every aspect of life in China was different. As you've learned, I try to be honest on this blog. China took me a lot longer to adapt to than any other part of this trip. It was hard. But finally I just sighed and realized I had to accept the upside down world I'd found myself in. It became a lot easier once that was done. But what really helped was the people I was with. Are you sensing a theme here? The Great Wall, the Terra-cotta soldiers, dangling off Huashan Mountain, all the temples, they don't compare to the people I met. The memories I made with my family and new friends will be what made China amazing. Shanghai breezes on a sunny day. The smiles and surprise from people as we explored the small villages. The nights in Ningbo. The joking conversations and the serious conversations as we watched the beauty of HuaShan Mountain develop in front of us. Man, life is beautiful. 

Have you ever looked at yourself and realized the pieces from other people culminates into you? Here's what I mean. From birth, we are influenced. Everyday we interact in any form with another human, we are influenced. Each person interprets these influences differently which is makes humans unique individuals. So it's like a stew for people. We walk down the halls of life's supermarket and say, "Ooo this guy introduced me to polka dancing (realistic example, I know) and now I'm going to add that to my person." A little bit of sugar, a little bit of spice. And a stew is made. Sometimes those influences come from the most random places as well. I think about this often because, due to the seasonal lifestyle, I've had numerous people who I've spent a few months with, they add an entirely new perspective on things, and then they're gone. Some I stay in contact with, some I don't. Some I wish I stayed in contact with, while some I'm glad are gone. And frankly, that's just life. 

I'm sitting on my last leg of this journey home. Los Angeles to Denver. Before I left everyone told me I'd come back a different person. In someways, I don't think so. But in other ways, of course I am. Because I made connections with people. Some connections were with all my heart and some were just short term fun. But the connection is there nonetheless. So the influences were made and I am now a different person. But the main ideas haven't changed. I've learned a little more about patience, love, heartbreak, strength, courage, prayer, and the ability to empathize with people no matter what. Because in the end you have something in common: you're both humans. So I've learned a lot. I pray I've become stronger. My heart has extended to the corners of the earth and I'm so thankful for the opportunities and family I now have in my heart.

I was worried my last day in Shanghai about being home and feeling my heart be torn in two. The response I received from my dad was perfection. "Yes I do know. A torn heart is common for people who are truly alive because they recognize that there is more than one happiness and often both cannot be had at the same time. So they begin to learn how to choose, enjoy the current moment, glory in the past ones and anticipate the coming ones without dwelling - too much - on what will be missed." But my heart does not need to be torn. I'll come back. I'll see my family in Switzerland again. I'll see my family in Spain again. I'll see my family in China again. I'll carry the memories and influences on my heart and use them to become a stronger and yet more lovig person. This is not the end. As always, someday... No. Not someday, tomorrow, the adventure continues. 

The Reason for Silly String

"People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel." - Maya Angelou 

*** 

Endings are a strange event. This isn't "THE END" post. That'll come yet. But I believe this is the "end of China" post. I know I've said this, but I mean it. I had kind of forgotten an end would actually happen to this escape from reality. Nonetheless, I had a going away dinner last night. 

Johann and I spent Saturday ... Goodness I don't remember. We did something. Oh! I baked mostly. Johann and Dave made a trip into Liaou for some fruit and veggies. Then we had a spectacular steak dinner at Brian's. The night ended watching Wall-e. I had never seen it. Adorable. I can't believe I've missed out for years. 

Sunday. Packing day. I'm making my strong brother carry the souvenirs. It's working out well. But before all this, Dave and I made a big breakfast for everyone. I was sous chef, which also meant I was in charge of music. I went for the ultimate Pandora station. "80's Throwback/90's Comeback." Thanks to the SEAG crew last year for introducing me to this. It is probably needless to say it was a dance party while making breakfast. Then packing. 

Apparently packing really took it out of me because I took a couple hour long nap. I woke up to a barrage of messages from Brian. "Come downstairs." "Wake up!" "Wakey wakey" I looked around. Everyone had left. Sure enough, in the  middle of the street outside the apartment, base camp had been set up. Ed, Eddie, Brian, and Ryan, (read those names four time fast) and our family were sprawled over the street. Some in chairs, some just on the ground. I brought some more chairs down. And for the next few hours, that's where we stayed. 

Some more people came and went. Ed eventually ordered 12 pounds of crawfish that were delivered in plastic bags. We ate them all in the middle of the street. Brian brought Silly String for every reason anyone ever used Silly String. ... There isn't one except for pure fun. Epic battles followed. Brian also brought over his mouse costume head. For the same reason as Silly String wars. Music played the whole time. Some songs we ... Well, Ryan danced along with. Some songs were sung along with. Some were just played in the background. The sun sunk lower and lower in the sky until finally the smiling faces were lit by streetlights. 

Once darkness overtook, people started going to bed. These people actually have jobs on Monday. I know! I've heard about such things. I dragged Brian to the Yumway. I knew it was my last night with him. So we sat and talked for a few hours. We met Jared there. Jared and I bonded over his music choice of country. Brian was quickly subjected to our singing. Finally, I decided to call it a night early since we had an early train to catch in the morning.

Looking back on this month in China, I've seen some amazing things. I've seen works of art that managed to survive trial and tribulation. I've seen structures that withstood the test of time. Scenery that could impress anyone. But that's not what made this trip amazing. Exploring Yu Gardens in the rain is only exciting when you're laughing about it with your brother and aunt. Playing pool in the upper room of the Boxing Cat is only fun when the people you're with make conversations about politics, Spanish, or March Madness wonderful. Being introduced to little towns in Southern China is only intriguing when you're with friends who are overflowing with knowledge and a caring attitude. Baked fish, rolling dice, Baiju, card games late into the night are only important because of the people you're with. Late nights in Ningbo don't compare to the conversations with a newfound lifelong friend. The Great Wall of China is amazing. But the inside jokes Dave and I now have because of watching a high school group try to climb the wall easily surpass the greatness. The Terra-cotta soldiers are unimaginable and astounding. But I'd quickly trade hours there in exchange for the hours I had talking with Ellen in the mornings over a cup of coffee. Traveling the world with your brother... Man, do I need to say more? Unbeatable. 

I've had some amazing... Fantastic... Phenomenal moments on this trip. But not one of them compares to the people I spent them with. I may forget how certain aspects of the Great Wall looked, or details about the Terra-cotta soldiers, or how cute the pandas are... Okay, not the last one! I may forget those parts, but I won't forget how I felt with the people in China. The world only matters because of the people living in it. Thank you all. You helped make this an unforgettable month. And now? The adventure continues. 

Where the Heart Is

I started getting some worried emails lately. I am alive. I just didn't keep blogging for a bit. Here's why... 

We got back from the trip and became pandas. The next couple days were filled with loads and loads laundry, little outings during the day, movie nights, and general laziness. Well between Ellen, Johann, and I. Dave went to work the morning we got back from the trip. Someone has to be responsible. I will say I worked on college and job applications. So I guess you could say productivity was semi-done by all. Kind of... 

This weekend is a holiday, much like our Labor Day, for China. So Dave had time off. Yesterday we utilized this opportunity. The four of us grabbed some bikes and headed out. The weather was perfect. The last couple days had been ungodly hot and humid, which really only encouraged the panda behavior. Johann and I tried to bike to Liaou. I nearly died on the side of the road. Okay, that's an exaggeration. But what is good writing without exaggerations? But yesterday was just cool enough for exercise to seem doable. So off we went. 

The four of us road past the turn to Liaou, onwards towards the dock for the ferry. We had decided to go to Shepan Island. Ironically, so did every person within a twenty kilometer radius. The moment Dave and I turned the corner into the ferry, we both said the same thing. "Oh yeah, it's a holiday." 

I am not trying to cause a kerfuffle. (Yes, that is a word.) But this is really the only way to describe this moment. Remember those history lessons about immigration boats coming to America? Landing in New York and being glad you could have a personal bubble again? Okay. That was this ferry ride. The return trip in the evening was worse. I'm going to combine the initial and return trip into one story. 

A tiny boat that you watched come ashore and were amazed it was afloat. Crowds and a gang of mopeds were held back by two people and a hanging piece of road. One guy touched the rope and the cluster of mopeds burst forward. Dave made it across, leaving behind the three of us. He went to the guy holding the rope. "They are my family. They need to come too." So this poor guy tried to just let us through. One man on a moped ran over Ellen's bike trying to come across as well. Ellen dragged her bike out and forged ahead as the two Chinese men started screaming at each other. I was still behind the moped and the rope. I realized I was being ignored and so I just yelled at the guy on the moped. "Hey!" He just looked at me and continued yelling at the other man as he scooted backwards an inch or two. Not really what I was going for. Finally, I picked up the bike so I could manuever past the two men, who just kept yelling at each other. We went down the ramp onto the boat. They left the ramp down for the whole trip because people and mopeds were squished on top of it. It was impossible to close the ramp. Dave yelled backwards, hoping we had all made it. The wind was horrendous in the evening causing waves to break over the side onto us. Dave and I caught the brunt of the waves because we were on the edge of the boat. Mothers gathered the children under jackets, trying to keep them warm. Men sat on the railings of the boat because there was physically no room on the floor for them. I couldn't help but laugh. What an absurd situation. Johann joined in on the laughing and said, "I hope America is nice." The other side was still China. We didn't go that far.

Shepan Island has biking routes to see the scenery. But we went to the "main tourist attractions." The first stop was The Savage Caves. In years past, men used to live in these caves and mine. Some of the tools and ladders and such are still visible. Massive caves are etched into the side of the mountain. Ponds sit outside the caves, fed by pouring waterfalls off the slick rocks above. The green trees and flowers cover where the sidewalk doesn't conquer. People crawled over every inch of the sidewalks, exploring every crevasse of the caves. What amazed me was people used to live in these caves until 2006. I don't mean they had a house casually sitting in these caves. They used the system for living that was used for the miners. It was humbling to see. 2006! Where were you living in 2006? But I then I thought about some of the living circumstances that I've seen all over China. I realized this was actually a better situation than some. Humbling. The only word for it. We explored, took pictures, and meandered for a while before deciding we had seen it all. 

We hopped on our bikes to head to the next destination. The single lane road was attempting to fit all the walking tourists, bikes, lines of cars, and street vendors. There was some level of understanding about where everyone was supposed to be on the road. But really the rule was, "I won't hit you. So don't hit me." I became very used to cars squeezing past me, close enough that my handlebars sometimes were centimeters from the mirrors. I know I said exaggeration makes writing better, but this part is nothing but truth. The first few minutes were terrifying, but it quickly became a nonchalant and overly trusting attitude among everyone on the road. 

We arrived at the next stop: Pirate's Cave. Um... self-explanatory, hopefully. Pirate's lived in this cave. Dave jokingly said none of the statues could have been pirates because they didn't look at all like Johnny Depp or Orlando Bloom. What was neat about this spot was the intricate carvings on the ceilings and walls. As you walked along, suddenly there would be a carving of a ship sticking out of the wall. Or a dragon peeking out of the water. Or whatever else you could think of. It was wonderful. When these were made was still up for debate. We explored the many rooms. One room really stuck out to us. We entered through a small door into a giant room of the cave. The amplification of the room made it very loud. What was amusing was the walls were set up for rock climbing. No ropes. No people watching over it. Just kids and adults climbing high enough were a fall would be more than problematic. Johann and I smiled and went for it. I practiced serious self control, I will have you all know. I figured since my arm can barely take monkey bars right now as we discovered recently, I better not climb where there was no backup. It's one thing to climb with ropes where if my arm gives out I can just come down. But a whole different story when I would still have to down climb. So I went halfway up, and then hung out and watched the people be thrilled by the concept of climbing up a wall. We explored the caves for a few hours. Finally, we struggled back through the roads and ferry ride back to the otherside. 

We stopped in Liaou for lunch around 4pm. Totally on top of the prompt lunchtime. Then we rode back to the site. The wind blew straight into our face which made us feel as though we weren't really biking that hard. When we arrived back in the apartment, I took a shower to wash off the sweat from myself and everyone else on that boat. How's that visual treating you? Mmm... Anyway. Minutes after putting on clean clothes, Brian messaged me. "My place in 15 minutes. Dress warm." Okay then. So Johann and I left, dressed warmly. Which during springtime in China means a windbreaker. 

Brian opened the door to his apartment while saying, "We are going kite flying!" He had put his whole kite collection on the couch. We debated on which kites to bring. We were fighting time and the setting sun. Complex kites were out based on the fact we wouldn't know how to put them together and that would waste time. Light up one's were a good idea for night, but we weren't sure the batteries were charged. Throw two in just in case. Two simple ones that still look cool. Off we went, balancing kites under our arms while riding bikes. 

You know the expression "happy as a kid on Christmas morning?" Well I think it should be "happy as a Becca flying kites." I've flown kites once before, as far as I can remember. Ironically, on the Chitina river in Alaska on a rafting trip. Apparently it took a China trip to do it again. Brian instructed the building of the kites. Let me put it this way... We flew one kite the whole time. But it was awesome. It soared high into the sky. Brian chuckled as he watched my face light up... well like a Becca flying kites. The waves crashed against the rocks below us on the beach. The kite caught different currents in the windy sky. We joked and talked while one person would control the kite. Perfection. 

We went to the Yumway once the sky was dark enough to justify pulling the kite back in. We sat down and to discuss dinner options for the evening. We quickly realized Johann and I weren't hungry at all due to the late lunch. So our planning session became just a sit and talk session. I guess they generally do. As we were sitting there, chatting about the stories life has handed us, Silent Night came over the speakers. China doesn't really understand the timing of Christmas I've discovered. Brian started singing melody. Johann and I immediately joined in with the harmonies that have been drilled into our memories. Three verses of angelic Silent Night in a bar in China. No, life doesn't get better. 

I've been in a weird homeless state recently. Ever since the tickets home have been purchased, I've been wondering about that. I cannot put into words how weird it is watching my friends get ready to go to Alaska and knowing, for the first time in thirteen years, I won't be going to the small town that raised me. It's weird knowing I'll be going back to Colorado for the summer and I'll feel out of place in the state that I have been in since birth. China sure isn't home. Spain is wonderful, but not home. So I've been feeling homeless. Before I left in January, everyone casually threw out the warning, "You won't come home after this. You'll come back to the house that you grew up in, but it won't be home." I had heard it, but suddenly I understand it. If home is where the heart is and you don't know where your heart is, how do you know where home is? That was the question on my mind this week. So I threw it out there for some friends. I got the best response I've ever heard from my lovely cousin Daria. "Your heart is in your chest. Be present where you are. Be happy and content with where you are physically but also mentally and spiritually. Love the life you have now and your heart will always be with you, as will home." 

I can't summarize it better and it eased all my worries. I'm starting to think home is just the moments with people who love you. I hope it's not a place, otherwise wandering souls, such as myself, will be forever homeless. No, home is exploring pirate caves with your family. Home is sipping coffee and joking with your uncle. Home is riding bikes against a crazy wind and turning to your aunt, laughing about how ridiculous the moment was. It's traveling the world with your brother. Home is flying kites with a new found, lifelong friend. Home is harmonizing Silent Night in a bar in China. Dari said she wasn't expecting me to understand her message. But I easily did. Home truly is where the heart is. And if your heart is with the people who love you, you'll be home when you're with them.