Last fall I was going through my Word documents when I found something that looked like part journal entry part life commentary. It was about when I first arrived in Beijing last summer.
It began: “When I first arrived in Beijing I felt this sense of dread driving down the freeway to Beijing University’s campus. As I passed the new avant-garde Bird’s Nest Olympic Stadium and bridges decorated with the Olympic mascots declaring, “One World, One Dream,” I felt the terror grow more and more.”
Reading that, I was puzzled, because I remembered being elated and wide awake with excitement when I stepped off the plane into the warm night blanket of Beijing’s atmosphere. I remembered trying to chat with the cab driver in Chinese as we flew down the freeway, and my jaw-dropping awe at my first glimpse of the Bird’s Nest. Why had I written this?
As I read further, I realized that I hadn’t. The writing sample went on to describe life at Penn, and I realized that my friend must have written this when she borrowed my computer to write a sample essay for a library position. She hadn’t brought her computer to Beijing, so we would go to Joy Luck Cafe together on dry Beijing nights to use the internet on my laptop. Once I realized my friend had written this, I started marveling at how two people could have the exact same event in their lives, but have two very distinct experiences. I could have placed myself in that exact scenario – the freeway, the Bird’s Nest, the banners, everything – but replaced the overwhelming emotion with excitement.
This time, it’s fear. As the date approaches, I’m growing more and more scared to go to Asia, Vietnam especially. I’m feeling okay about the logistics of meeting up with my tour group and obeying the laws, but less certain about why I’m doing it. There are only 24 students in my China program, and I’m worried that I’m going to be lonely. Logically, I can guess that I won’t be. Before I left for Beijing last summer, I had imagined myself sitting at home studying every night, friendless. This obviously was not the case.. in fact, I could have afforded to spend more time studying Chinese and less time studying China (i.e. going out, sightseeing, socializing.) Nevertheless, the fear is there.
My friend’s essay ends, “I decided I had a penchant for doing things I am not sure I can handle, and I contemplated how much time I needed to pass before I could gracefully make my exit from China.”
That’s how I’m feeling right now about this whole study abroad thing. Why did I think I could handle planning all of this on my own? At what point did I cross the line in realizing what I can handle myself? When Yiou cancelled the first time? The second time?
I have not been feeling well emotionally lately and I think it’s stress. One second I’m excited, the next I am petrified and cursing myself for taking another bite too big to chew. I always wanted a life of adventure but now I can see the merit in settling down.
