I have been thinking a lot about decision making. The years immediately following undergraduate education have the potential to be a no-man's-land in a battle between embracing youth (and it's potential) and pursuing direction. This transitional space is rife with landmines and barbed wire that are otherwise referred to as "major life decisions." Some dodge the battlefield--blindly realizing that this, in and of itself, is a decision in regards to how to handle one's own life (i.e. procrastination and denial). I know others who look to maneuver around obstacles; and I know others who will do whatever it takes to steadfastly embrace youthful pursuits or to devotedly labor at the "next step."
Bear, motorcycle, high wire, laurel, streamers. This happens
As a friend asks me for my thoughts on applying to the Peace Corps and another asks me for my opinion about teaching in a struggling community, I relay the questions that I have had to ask myself in regards to both of these pursuits that have been passions at some point in my recent past.
As a friend asks me for my thoughts on moving in with his significant other and another friend asks me for my opinion about committing to a year abroad with her significant other, I obviously reflect on my decisions in regards to my former relationship with both those features.
And as I ask my friends for their thoughts on what their next steps will be or for their opinions about what they have learned from their own experiences in whatever they have done in the past year, I find myself questioning how I make decisions and how I regard decisions I have made in the past year-or-so--which is a rather appropriate act for this resolution-making time of the year.
In lieu of the recent slew of necessary questioning and searching I have conducted, I have spent some [also necessary] time contemplating the Chinese "maybe." Anyone who has held a conversation with a non-Native-English-speaking-Chinese-person knows that their individual uses of the word "maybe" are confounding, seemingly incorrect, and easily mocked. Here are some examples:
Me: There is no-one supervising that classroom and a boy just bit another boy. Chinese Colleague: Yes. Maybe they are disobedient.
***
Chinese Colleague: Maybe you should come to the flag ceremony at 6 a.m.
***
Chinese Colleague: Maybe the school van will be there at 4:30 p.m. to retrieve you and your friends. Me: Wait. But they are supposed to be. Chinese Colleague: Yes. Maybe they will be. Me: But they are contractually obligated to be there. Chinese Colleague: Maybe they are obligated by contract. Yes. Me: But...Um...Maybe.
I would be the first to profess how foolish it is to begin a journey or even to begin most tasks with set expectations of how the journey and/or task will unfold and/or culminate. Without a certain amount of flexibility to the whims and uncontrollable forces of the world (especially in China), failure is a constant potential; disappointment, a guaranteed outcome. I know this.
Unfortunately, I am bearing witness, these days, to how knowing something and experiencing it may be stark differences that leave one questioning one's own ilk. As detailed to many of you at various points, I am enduring some trying times. Whether I am at school and facing indifferent students or abusive colleagues, or whether I am at home and elsewhere attempting to distract myself as methods of licking my recently opened wounds. There is no need to detail these trials any further, but my kind readership should be aware that I experience insecurity and stress no matter where I go and nearly no matter what I do. The stress in my life is inescapable because of how profound it is. I wish I could, as I say to myself, "Take it one thing and/or day at a time."
In the wake of my National Day vacation to emei shan (Mt. Emei, the holiest of Taoist mountains and located two hours southwest of Chengdu, China) and Leshan (home of the world's tallest seated buddha with toenails bigger than me) I am left reflecting on the balance of life. This seems appropriate and obvious (perhaps appropriately obvious) given the spiritually Buddhist sights I visited. Emei shan rejuvenated me with how it challenged me, with its beauty, with its spiritual essence that enveloped each of its hiking pilgrims much like the low-lying clouds that wrapped and permeated the mountain's sloping and sub-tropical forest; I returned lightened and having come to terms with pressing questions in my life--more on these questions later--only to encounter a burdening pain.
That is waterfall fresh laundry
I know I would fail in describing the climb up the mountain; I know as much because of how complexly beautiful Emei is. Since I feel like this excuse is more a cop-out disguising laziness, I will not use this lame reasoning to withhold details of my experience on Emei. Instead, I will ask for your understanding given my struggle to find words while my thoughts are so helplessly scattered in the face of some personal and heavy-hearted trials.
A few stray descriptions and reflections will, I hope, suffice.
Battling thousands of Chinese people for a seat on a bus from Chengdu to Emei redefines "holiday travel." Imagine going to O'Hare airport on the busiest travel days surrounding Thanksgiving or Christmas; now, imagine that your airline has issued you a ticket to a destination but has not specified the time of your flight, the number of your flight, or your seat on the flight. The airline just sells tickets to passengers, thus allowing them to do whatever they feel is necessary to make sure that they get to their destinations in a timely manner.
I waited five hours with other sardines in Chengdu's bus station; it took me four hours to move twenty feet. I was elated that I did not have to use the restroom at any time during this experience. I was not elated that many Chinese people firmly believe that body odor is a "western problem."
I have returned to Ann Arbor, Michigan. I am living with my girlfriend, Caitlin, and enjoying time with good friends--who work at places like this. I am currently writing international community health courses for International Medical Relief (the organization with which I teamed to go to Haiti and Ethiopia). Soon, I will compile briefing packets for upcoming I.M.R. missions. This is paying the bills, but I am looking for some more work to fill my hours, to pad my bank account, and to instill myself with a sense of purpose when I can so easily spend my daylight hours wasting away with Netflix instant and "Lost" marathons.
I recently returned from a week in Colorado with my parents and Caitlin (C). We were blessed with fortunately sunny and warm weather, even when we took two days in Keystone--where we received a half-off discount on lift tickets because of an executive chef we met at a sleigh-ride dinner in a valley ranch once used for gold mining and lettuce farming. Speaking of food, the week was filled with childhood classic eateries as well as recent additions to the Zwiebel Family Favorites:
-Fish tacos at Wahoo's
-Pad thai at Saigon Terrace
-Garden burger sliders, carrot-ginger-cumin soup, and chorizo omelette at Root Down
-Pad see yew at Wild Ginger
-Colorado style mountain pizza pie at Beau Joe's in Idaho Springs
-Chicken shwarma at Saj
-Chicken curry wrap and tea infused ice cream at Dushanbe Tea House
-Butterscotch fudge ripple, heath bar based, dulce de leche, espresso-based-chocolate-covered-espresso-bean, etc ice creams from Likk's
-Scallion pancakes at Jade Garden
A visit to the Denver Art Museum here, a tour of my childhood hot-spots there. Though C got a little ill towards the end of the trip--as per usual--we both had a wonderful time with my parents. No drama. Except when we played Cranium. Lots of laughter there (e.g. my dad shouting chest hair for a sensosketch of corsage or me trying to hum "Sexual Healing" to C). Good drama. Oh! And the drama of watching my 8th grade musical--in which I played Henry Higgins of "My Fair Lady." Man. I sure do maintain a painful tone deafness throughout my years.
Now that I have returned to Lady Ann, I am resettling and discovering my perceptions of the city have shifted. I am, obviously, no longer focusing on the "college town" side of the city; instead, I am taking in the city as a conduit to pursuing my passions and living a sustainable, happy lifestyle. So far, so good.
For the future, I am awaiting a reply from Princeton in Asia (my first choice) about the coming fall's fellowship prospect. I should know by Tuesday. I have been accepted to the American Jewish World Service Fellowship in India, which I am very excited about. Also, I have been accepted to teach English in Shenzhen courtesy of the Chinese Bureau of Education. There may be some tough decisions ahead, but the good news is that I will be on an enriching program abroad this fall.
