As I have mentioned in my introduction post, I used to live in China. For a bit over 10 years. These words would mean nothing to those who has never been a foreigner in China. To understand what does that imply, one has to have immigrated to a different country at least once in their life. And well, just let me tell you that going from the US to Canada for a few months doesn't count. I am talking the hardcore stuff, like completely different culture, values, cuisine, and the very concept of life itself are nothing to what you're pretty much used to.
At first you get all excited, because well, it is exciting as fuck. You are all alone in a foreign land. A land, where a normal-looking guy like you is a sensation, all of a sudden. People look at you at the street. Or they rather stare, lol. They take pictures with you and of you. Yeah, as in just you in the middle of the city. An expensive-ass car pulls by in the middle of the road and some random guy you never seen in your life asks you out for a lunch with his friends. And then you sit there all awkward, because although you are a center of attention, you can only say literally 4 words in their language at the time, which would be "hello, thank you, goodbye and how much".
Sounds like fun? Well, that is how North China was back in 2006-2007, during that one academic year I have spent in a city of Mudanjiang. The name of it translates as "Peony River", but believe me, if there ever have been peony flowers growing by that river, those times are long gone. Not to mention the river was quite dirty, and I really wouldn't call it's smell "peony".
But hey, we are not here to trash others. Anything I am saying here, in this blog is either a confirmed and conformable truth, or it was truth at the moment of writing. I have literally zero interest in misrepresenting whatever I lived through.
Back to Mudanjinang. Ever since I left my parent's home for China, on August 23(26th? I'll find that stamp lol), 2006, I treated China like home, albeit temporary. I used to go for trips abroad and go back home, to China. It was so natural, I used to say "back home" meaning back in China.
Young and beardless me with Mao in 2008, shortly after I came back to China from Thailand
Next Monday something out of ordinary(in my world) is going to happen: I am going to China... For a business trip. As my home is now elsewhere.
Weird? You bet your ass it is.
One of the cool parts of the trip: I get to go to Hong Kong several times. I love Hong Kong. Part of my heart is somewhere there, on it's serpentine roads, narrow streets, giants of glass and concrete, and of course the sea. As a son of a port city, I miss the hell out of the sea.
The not so cool part: I'll have to visit Shenzhen's largest electronics market(a disgusting place filled with cigatette smoke and good for nothing, electronics garbage), and the city of Guangzhou - a place I gave 7 years of my life to. I dislike Guangzhou as well. It became incredibly crowded and uncomfortable to live in. Not to mention fucking expensive. We'll discuss that sooner or later too.
Anyways, I have sort of mixed feelings about it. Like excitement of seeing places and people I adore, and the "oh, not that shit again" kind of disarming disappointment.
Either way, the shittiness of markets in particular and Guangzhou in general will not ruin the anticipated meetings with friends I have there and the great new beginnings I am planning to forge there this time.