December 19, 2011
I awoke this morning at 5:45 because I was accompanying Kelli to the bus stop. Kelli’s mom works for an airline so she gets free standby tickets and therefore would be traveling solo to the United States. Kaylee, Kelli, and I climbed into a van the school provided for us and it drove us downtown to the bus stop. With the translation barrier, we weren’t sure if the driver knew Kaylee and I weren’t going on the bus with Kelli, so when we got out to say goodbye we stayed by the van and gave quick farewells—it was over too soon to make us weepy. I will miss that girl.
When Kaylee and I returned to the school, I went back to sleep for about an hour; I was awoken by Robin, who gave me a blueberry muffin for breakfast.
At 11, I went down for lunch, my last meal in China. It was disappointing, though I can’t remember what we had. At 11:35, I descended the stairs to the second floor, where the younger students eat. I waited for my students to finish their classes and come to lunch. I think most of them thought I was gone by then, so they were more than usually excited to see me. They crowded around me, hugging any part of my body that they could reach over the other students (ever been hugged by fifteen-plus kids at once? I have on multiple occasions).
Their Chinese teacher pulled them away from me and directed them to go get their food. I waited for them to go through the cafeteria line and then find their seats until I approached them. Again, they all shouted my name and a few ran up to me, while the others simply reached out to me from their tables. I went around and hugged all of them, one by one, and chatted with them. I love hanging out with my students outside of the classroom, when I don’t have to enforce rules and proper behavior. At times like these, they can just be their adorable selves and I can play with them as much as I want.
As a farewell gift, Lily gave me a used eraser and Kyle gave me a green marker, both of which I’m sure were simply the contents of their pockets and the only things they could offer me. However, I cherish those gifts because they were given with love.
I talked to the kids about their classes, their friends, and whether they liked cafeteria food. Most of them didn’t like the food. As I chatted with the kids at one table, another set would usher me over to their table. I took pictures and gave and received more hugs and kisses.
Tiana was especially sad to see me go, and kept on coming up for more hugs; she has become very cuddly over the last couple of weeks, as compared to when she never touched me. This is what happened to Flynn, who also gave me multiple hugs that day.
As I prepared to leave, Jack, my dear little Jack, approached me and leapt into my arms; he wrapped his arms around my neck and held on tight. “I don’t want you to go home,” he said, in perfect English. “I don’t want you to go to Meiguo, Teacher.”
Up to that moment, I hadn’t cried during a farewell (not because I wasn’t sad, I just…didn’t), but now, embracing that small, sweet, endearing little boy who had won my heart, I couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“I know, Jack,” I said softly. “I don’t want to go, either.” I pulled away to look at his face; his eyes mirrored his mouth: they betrayed utter sadness. “You could come with me ton Meiguo!”
Jack furiously shook his head. “No, I don’t want to go to Meiguo; I want Zhongguo. I want you to be in Zhongguo.”
Once again, I pulled him close. I set him down on the ground and looked him in the eye. “Jack, when you’re older, when you’re a big boy, I will come back to Zhongguo and see you; we will have fun together. Okay?”
Jack nodded enthusiastically, pleased with this proposal. “Okay, Teacher Jillian.”
“I love you, Jack.”
“I love you, too.”
I took his small hand, and together we descended the stairs and exited the building. Out in the sunshine, I hugged him one last time and snapped one last picture of us, and said my final goodbyes.
“Goodbye, Teacher Jillian,” Jack said, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Goodbye, Jack,” I replied. He ran off to join his fellow students outside their dorm building; I waved at him as I walked away.
It’s fair to say that I broke down only seconds later.
Whenever someone asks me my favorite part of my China experience, or what made my experience, my response is immediate: my students. They were and are what made it all worthwhile. When I leave China, I will leave 36 pieces of my heart here. I pray for them daily, and hope that one day I will see them again.
I returned to my dorm room just in time to throw all my last bits of luggage together and head down to the Administration Building, where a charter bus waited to take the Americans to the Weihai airport. Earlier that morning, the High School students came to our floor to take our suitcases down the five flights of stairs. I don’t think they anticipated the “weightiness” of their offer: each of the 18 Americans had two fifty-pound suitcases. When the students arrived, they all let out common Chinese exclamations: “Wah!” or “Aiya!” It was actually quite humorous, but we Americans were all very grateful for their help.
All of our suitcases were lined up and ready to be packed on the bus. The Koreans came to say goodbye, leaving most of the teachers in tears. Scott, Adam, and another Chinese man stored our suitcases underneath the bus and everyone climbed on. As we pulled away, all of us shouted, “Xi jian, DaGuangHua!”
The ride to the airport was quite uneventful; I stayed awake to see my last glimpses of Weihai, but then slept the rest of the hour drive.
Things went quickly at the airport, and, much to my regret, I was unable to say a proper goodbye to Kelly, the Chinese coordinator. However, she ushered us along because she didn’t want us to make her cry. She’s such a sweet, crazy lady; I will miss her. Good thing I have the school address, her email address, and her Skype information. I want to keep in touch.
Security and everything else went smoothly, much to my surprise. If all of my adventures in the airports on the way to China are a sign of my type of luck, I should have broken/ripped something or set off an alarm by now.
The flight from Weihai to Seoul was fine; I had an aisle seat. In the Incheon/Seoul airport, I saw several Caucasians and Indians, which totally weirded me out because I’m so accustomed to seeing strictly Asians—besides my American colleagues, but for some reason it wasn’t weird to see them but it was weird to see any other White person, or anyone who wasn’t Asian, for that matter. White children were especially strange to see, all racism aside, because they had blond hair and gigantic eyes! I’m sure it sounds strange, but after being surrounded exclusively by Asian children, my mentality altered: Asian children were the norm; they didn’t appear to me to look Asian, they looked just how kids were supposed to look: small, cute, and perfect. It’s hard to explain, but after seeing White kids I had to remind myself that not all children are Asian; white kids looked different, just how Asians used to look ‘different’ to me when I lived in the States.
That’s an interesting concept, to say the least.
At the airport, once again everything went smoothly. I had a sore throat so I was dying for water, but I found a drinking fountain.
This was where we said goodbye to Robin, Scott, and Kailey, as they were flying into LA instead of Las Vegas. It was especially hard to say goodbye to the Baileys—they are such an entertaining, cute, awesome couple; they were definitely some of my favorite people in my group.
My seat on the plane from Seoul to Las Vegas (a ten-plus hour flight) was an aisle seat, much to my joy. Last time I was stranded between two Koreans in the middle seat of the middle aisle on a Boeing 747; I had to sleep awkwardly and wake up the little old woman to my right every time I needed the lavatory.
This time, I was free to leave whenever the seatbelt sign was off without disturbing anyone; on my row was Kristin and Krisan, which was another blessing because it gave us a final chance to talk.
Nevertheless, despite all these fortunes, I still had a killer sore throat, and since the security officers right outside the plane (not outside security, oddly enough) confiscated my two water bottles, I became extremely dehydrated and uncomfortable. I asked the nice Korean flight attendants for water a couple of times, but each time they brought me a small glass of water (hardly a full gulp worth) and I felt bad for bothering them so much, so I survived on throat lozenges.
I was so uncomfortable, due to a dry, painful throat and the awkward positions one must sleep in on a plane, I slept for maybe ten minutes throughout the entire flight. Instead, I watched several movies, including Captain America, The Help, and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, reminisced on my life in China and considered the unknown in my future (which is in practically every aspect of it).
Once, thankfully when the cab lights were dimmed, I even had a silent cry. I missed my students and my life in China already.
Despite all of my personal discomfort during the flight, I really do like Korean Air: they feed you well (even on 45 minute flights, like from Weihai to Seoul), the service is quick and the attendants are very kind, and you get free movies and music on your own TV. Plus, the attendants have the most stylish uniforms, with white satin blouses, aquamarine pencil skirts, aquamarine ascots, and aquamarine bows in their shining black hair. I would totally wear their uniforms on a regular basis.
By the time we reached Las Vegas, I was more than ready to get the heck off that plane. I hated that we were in Las Vegas with one more flight in a few hours: I just wanted to be done with flying. However, it was a much needed relief to be on the ground and moving around. One of the first things I did was fill up at the water fountain—that was heaven.
I said goodbye to Kaylee and Marie here, as they were continuing to Calgary, Canada. I will miss those two. I hope I can see them again.
I thought seeing a few White people in Korea was weird—imagine my shock to see white people everywhere. Loads and loads of Caucasians. Everywhere I looked. I’m sure I stared at them like the Chinese used to stare at me; again, I was shocked when they weren’t staring back. No one seemed to notice me—I don’t mean that in a narcissist way, I’m simply accustomed to being a minority and having everyone stare at me like I’m some sort of alien. In Las Vegas, I was just another haggard-looking traveler.
I used the restroom, and after I was done wiping I searched for a waste basket, only to remember that, in America, toilet paper can be flushed down the toilet. Doing so felt wrong, though, like I was being rebellious. That is definitely something I will have to get re-used to.
I cleaned myself up in the restroom until I looked at least half-alive. Walking past all the shops and restaurants, I inhaled the mixture of smells: pizza, French fries, glazed donuts, coffee, cinnamon rolls, beer…. It was all too much; I almost literally choked on it. The air was so thick it was like inhaling the smog in LA or Shanghai; also, it all smelled so sweet that it repulsed me—after living four months without sugar, the sugary sweetness of American sweets is way too much for me to take. It actually didn’t smell very good. It was good, but it was too good. It will probably take me a while to accustom to the decadence of American food.
Since I hadn’t slept since 8AM the day before, I was practically sleep-walking. As the chairs in the terminal all had permanent armrests (how stupid is that?) I placed my pillow on the floor beside the chairs and slept right there on the ground. The ground was carpeted with a thin carpet that didn’t add any cushion, but after sleeping on a board for four months, it was just enough to put me into a deep slumber.
My friends, who sat above me chatting, awoke me when it was time to board the plane to Salt Lake City. I was finally a bit rested and could brave yet another flight; also, I had the anticipation of seeing my best friend, Maren Mathewson, who would pick me up at the airport. Maren is the girl who went home from China a few weeks ago due to a toothache. She and I were to hang out for a day before I flew to Colorado on the 21st. (This entry is marked December 19 because, with the time difference, I left at 4PM on the 19th of December in China and arrived in the US at 1PM on the 19th of December.)
I sat by the window; it was wonderful to be able to look out and see the mountains below us as we approached Utah. I desperately missed real mountains.
Maren was waiting for me at the bottom of the escalators at baggage claim. The whole scene was reminiscent of the first time I ever saw her, when she picked me up for ILP training back in August. This time, I recognized her face and embraced her. She was definitely a sight for sore eyes; I didn’t really realize how much I missed her until I saw her face again.
I hugged and said goodbye to all my other ILP friends; I wondered if I would see any of them again. It was especially hard to say goodbye to Krisan, Kristin, and Kate.
Maren helped me get my suitcases into her car, a Kia Soul, and then we headed to her house in South Jordan. We chatted incessantly, catching up on each other’s lives. I missed her.
Because I had depleted my concealer supply, I asked, rather ashamedly, if we could stop by Wal-Mart so I could buy some. So yes, my first stop after returning to the United States was Wal-Mart. I’m not proud, though it is nice to have makeup again.
Arriving at Maren’s house, I greeted her family. Her mom asked me what I wanted to eat and I said, “Salad.” I’ve been craving a good, big, leafy salad since I left for China; all I had in China was skinny, bitter herbs. Maren served me a big plate of spinach, shredded provolone cheese (another delicacy, after not having cheese while in China), and Thousand Island dressing. Oh my goodness, it was delicious.
After I ate, Maren helped me settle into the living room downstairs; I would be sleeping on the couch, which was so soft it seemed to consume my body when I lied down. I wasn’t sure how I would sleep on it. I collapsed on the couch. I was unconscious almost immediately.
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