anywhere but here

[I discovered upon my latest trip home that there are in fact people who keep tabs on this blog and who are sorely disappointed that I haven't made more of an effort to keep it updated. So, dear readers, this one's for you.]

Shanghai has been a dreary shade of gray since I've returned, and as far as I can tell there have been no clouds in the sky. Clouds at least would be better than this haze, since a good storm tends to rain the dust down upon the city, thus clearing the skies for a day or two.

I'm pretty sure I have, over the past year or so, bored my friends to tears with a growing number of reasons why I dislike Shanghai. I feel obliged to be honest when they ask what my thoughts are of this city, and so they get to hear my list which consists of many more negatives than positives. My stock answer for those I think will be offended by my analysis or who are considering visiting the city and ask me how I like it is: It's a great experience, but it's just not my kind of city. An honest answer, and one that spares them a recounting of my many annoyances.

I've been lucky, blessed, spoiled, whatever you want to call it, to have traveled quite a bit in this first quarter of my life. I've visited five of the six livable continents, three of them before I turned 18. I've traveled with family, friends, classmates, acquaintances, and every now and then on my own. I've lived in North America, Asia, and North Africa. I've visited places where I could converse without difficulty and in places where hand signs and a smile were my only available means of communication. I've enjoyed every country that I've ever had the privilege of stepping foot in - all except one.

I'm not sure what it is about this country that brings out the worst side of me, one that grumbles more than rejoices, one that curses silently - if not out loud - at the slightest provocation, one that falls into a minor depression at the start of each new day.

It is true that I, ever the Texan, glean energy from the sun; from the bold colors of nature; from wide, open fields and even wider skies. Conversely, it is also true that crowds have a remarkable ability to drain my energy levels within a matter of hours. That would be an easy explanation, if only it were consistent. Unfortunately, I have walked amongst other crowds in places like Hong Kong, New York, and Rome, and I've never felt so claustrophic as I do here. I have balked at the polluted skies of Los Angeles, wished for a reprieve from drizzly London days, and felt a mixture of shock and sadness at the explosion of houses packed onto the hillsides in Mexico City. But still I have found plenty of redeeming factors in other aspects of those cities. Not so here.

I am sure some of my aversion stems from the cultural differences I've observed, mainly in terms of interpersonal communication. When people's first inclination is to frown at you instead of smile; when everybody from a salesperson to a subway attendant tersely brushes you aside; when people disrespect strangers and the environment in equal measure; when the door is always shut in your face, the line is always cut, the personal space is always invaded without apology; where do you ever expect to find the warm fuzzies?

There is more to it, I'm sure. Somebody is bound to point out the irony of it all: a Chinese-American who loves every country but China!? My brother has always thought I have something against my own 'people', my own 'race'. I take offense at that unfounded and unjust conclusion. Just because I don't scream Asian Pride, join Asian networking/dating/etc. groups, or otherwise surround myself with a predominantly Asian group of friends does not make me anti-Asian.

Others may see my situation as an expression of self-denial and low self-esteem, something along the lines of this: Living in China is like looking at herself in the mirror everywhere she goes. If she doesn't like it there, it must be because she doesn't like what she sees in that mirror. An interesting psycho-analytical evaluation, but I don't buy it either. I may have low self-esteem, but I do not associate myself with the masses here just because of our superficial similarities.

I can't say exactly what it is that makes me, with each trip back to this city, look forward more and more to moving away. It's a combination of many things that I'm still trying to sort out. I'll keep you posted on any relevations, and of course I welcome your own interpretations. For now, though, the coffee is gone, the battery's running low, and I can feel the lining of my stomach thinning with all this unhealthy negativity.