A HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

It may be remarkably redundant to say but I will say it nonetheless; this year has definitely been quite a learning experience for me. To be totally honest, I can’t really remember what I did this past New Year’s Eve, only that I was completely haggard over having just moved into a new house and all the work that lay ahead of the Jude and I. I was in the midst of falling for one of those tortured artists who loved my talent but not my soul. I was in the midst of lining up a year or projects that would all eventually be short-lived and unfulfilling at best. However, I also found several creative outlets, all of which were lovely and nurturing. I also rediscovered hiking and learned to be still amongst the insanity. I grew in ways I really liked and grew closer to the people who have always populated my life for the better. I feel like it was a moment in my life to say all those things you always mean to say but never get around to. I got to spend time with my mom learning about her childhood as one adult to another revealing their personal history.

And then, one not-so-special day, Xi’An chose me. Xi’An’s history was such a better fit for a girl like me than any modernized city I had been toying with. My school chose me. The contracts I got all discussed severe penalizations for being HIV positive (aside from China’s "deportation" policy) but my school’s contract was the only one that made no mention of it. Ultimately, that was the reason I chose this contract. I absolutely hated being here when I first got here. I felt like I was drowning and I staved off (with varying degrees of success) panic attacks regularly. The last time I felt that helpless, I had to find out from NPR that a good friend of mine died in a fire on Christmas Eve and I realized I had no way to contact his boyfriend.

But, for some reason, I stuck it out. I truly, genuinely did not want to. Culture shock sucks. A lot. Slowly I came out of my culture shock, got my "Xi" legs (as it were) and the haze of suckitude lifted. As I came out of the haze, I met a number of foreigners who, had I met them earlier would have reinforced my culture shock, but having met them after the haze lifted, reinforced my embracing of the Chinese culture. I made friends with an angelic Chinese woman who has saved me on more occasions than I could possibly count. All the while, the boy who makes me feel like Molly Ringwald sitting on that glass table with the dream boy who’s remembered your birthday was watching me and doing his best to make himself visible. I have no idea why he chose me as he has no references for a girl like me but there can be no doubt that he chose me as I make him nervous and in retrospect he’s done a lot of things to be seen by me. There can also be no doubt that I have a fleet of guardian angels pulling for me. I also know that had I come here last year, I would not have met him. If I came next year, I probably would not have met him either. I’ve never been clearer that this is my sliding-door moment.

And so, while I’m not exactly where I want to be for the holidays, I’m not overwhelmingly depressed about that.

I started the day early because I had to work and Mondays are my big day. I was surprisingly nervous about seeing Z on Christmas because our date felt like a dream and I was afraid to see him in the cold light of day. Frankly, I found myself in the old clichÈ of "if it’s a dream, don’t wake me but if it’s real, don’t let me sleep." And when he finally made an appearance, it was just before the morning calisthenics period (he leads the whole school in a 20 minute period of calisthenics) and he was walking ahead of me, clearly in the working-zone.

He unlocked the office with the exterior sound system to put on the soundtrack for the calisthenics. I decided to bite the bullet and find out if my dream was a waking dream or not.

Poking my head into the room I said, "Hello."

He glanced briefly at me, not really seeing me. "Hello." The mask was up and he was elsewhere. He returned his gaze to the sound system in front of him for a brief second.

As I can never really tell the "zone" from "upset," I meant to say, "How are you?" I had a brief moment of thinking, "Shit, maybe it was just a dream."

However, all I got through was "How…" before he glanced back up at me, dropped the mask, lit up in that way that only men can when they see the girl they’re confident in liking and said "Hello."

Yeah, he makes my toes curl.

"Hi" I said, smiling and then I ducked back out of the office, leaving him to his work.

The rest of the morning, whenever he would pass by any of my classes, he’d make a note to smile and wave. As he’s watching the kids again this week during lunch, he’s not in the lunchroom, which sucks, but whatever.

When I was leaving the primary school just after lunch, I bumped into him again and he lit up again at seeing me. His eyes stayed on me and then shifted to see the movement next to me. When he saw my lunch mate, his face half slipped behind the mask and half panicked. He immediately turned back to me for a cue on whether or not it was okay for my friends to know we have a connection. I get the sense he’s not sure I’m fully on board with where he wants to go. So, I did what any woman not hemorrhaging from the ears with stupidity would do, I maintained my smile, waved and said "Hello." He really seemed to like that. Needless to say, I’ve had Van Morrison’s "Into the Mystic" and Nick Drake’s "Pink Moon" on heavy rotation since then.

As I came home glowing, I could hear my phone ringing through the door. I hurried in and it turned out to be my boss. My boss invited me out for a big banquet to be thrown in my honor to celebrate Christmas. I had been hoping to invite Z over to show him pictures from around the world for his birthday (one of our many common interests is international travel) but the reason I know Z at all to say nothing of the time I am afforded with him is my job and consequently my bosses must be kept happy. And really, who can complain that their lovely and highly grateful bosses want to throw them a lavish party?

And the party was beautiful. All of the head honchos, their assistants and I were shuttled from the school to the South side of the city to the most famous restaurant in all of Xi’An. In total, there were about twenty of us and while I am friendly with all of them and friends with most of them, I am good friends with only one of the women there. So, before dinner, she and I went for a stroll through the restaurant.

The restaurant is stunning and if I remembered the name (it was mentioned once, briefly, to me), I would share it. However, it is clearly the place the Chinese go, not the foreigners, so there was very little in pinyin, much less English. Hell, the men at the front entrance were not your usual bellhop-types but actual army guards.

As we went through the massive revolving front door, the first thing I was hit with was the familiarity of the air. The cold desert night is not where I grew up. I like it, it’s nice, but it’s not home. My body has grown accustom to the lack of humidity but I am distinctly aware of the lacking ocean. I miss that here. However, the air inside the building was humid. The ground was cement and pebbly like the rocky West Coast.

As I got my bearings under the shock of feeling the clean, wet air of home, I looked up and saw a massive, winding Chinese garden with weeping bamboo, a pool and ending at a forty foot waterfall. To the right running several hundred yards deep were tanks of live seafood set up in a fish market style. To the left of the entrance, walls of live bamboo obscured the massive greenhouse environment.

We took a brief stroll about the winding water garden and saw the pool with the tiny seal in it. I couldn’t help but feel sad for the friendless seal. I related a bit too much to the caged critter all alone being studied and adored by the Chinese while being bribed to do tricks for the cameras. As the seal put me at risk of being melancholy, I wandered away quickly and studied the waterfall. Just as I wandered close to the waterfall, we were led to our seating area.

Our seating area had complete privacy as it was an island wrapped in walls of bamboo. However, in a quintessentially Chinese stroke, you can clearly hear all the tables around you. (For whatever reason, the Chinese are the only people I’ve ever met who have less of a problem with sound pollution than Americans.) Within our island were two round tables that could comfortably seat ten and each had a giant, glass lazy Susan in middle. I was immediately led to the seat to the left of the head of the entire school’s system, or "Number 1" as I like to think of him. Though most of the people I am closer to sat at the other table, my immediate boss was asked to sit to my left to translate for me.

We chatted briefly and then Number 1 suggested we take a longer tour of the restaurant grounds. I got up and found my good friend to escort me about. I took her hand and we left our area holding hands (a sign of good friends). She and I went wandering and had a good time chatting. She is incredibly sweet and she told me how nervous she was that this was her first dinner with such important people at school. She told me that she really wanted to make a good impression. I made a mental note when she said that to make sure we returned I would be holding her hand or arm and appear very happy to give her a good name.

When we returned, we were arm in arm and she was returned to the kids table while I returned to the grown-ups table. I waved "hello" to her when she sat down and glanced back up at me and stage whispered "thank you" to make it all the more obvious how much I adore her. The moment I said "thank you," Number 1 informed one of the hostesses waiting on us to bring another setting for our table (two had been taken when we first sat down, so we could quite comfortably seat another person). Another place was set and much to my pleasure, my good friend was told to come join us.

And then the booze showed up.

Number 1 made a great toast (in Chinese) about how we were all there to celebrate me and my holiday. And then we drank. And then I made a toast to Number 1 about how happy I was and I thanked him (all in Chinese, thank you).

And then we ate a bit and I hit the fatty foods hard because if we were starting with drinking this hard, my liver was going to need all the extra time my stomach could afford it. While I was gorging myself on fatty foods and given the last piece of all the special dishes, I was also lavished with token gifts, praise and questions.

We talked about America and how much the Chinese like and respect America. All the men at the table who had been to America talked about how clean the environment was and how inspiring it was to be in my homeland. They then spoke of how much they like and respect that America looks to protect the globe. I explained that as Americans, by and large, come from other countries we see it as our duty to take care of places that are home.

I was then asked what my impressions of China before and after were. I explained that I cam to China because I didn’t know what to expect and wanted to find out.

Then, it was said that, "You were beautiful when you came to China but you get more and more beautiful as you stay here." Apparently, this is a common theme amongst foreign women in China and there was a lengthy discussion about our progressive beauty. I explained this phenomenon by saying, "Well, yes because we become more and more happy."

And then there was more toasting. And my friends from the kids table got up to toast me as I was the reason we were feasting and they’re my friends. Now, the thing about toasting in China is that the highest compliment you can give a person toasting you is to down your glass. So, I drank. A lot. And I realized how grateful I am for my Irish, German and French heritage as I didn’t get sloppy drunk and I didn’t have a hangover this morning.

We closed the restaurant down and as my good friend and I piled out of the restaurant, the van that took us from work pulled up. I climbed into the back of the bus and there in the back was sitting the head of the primary school. He and I have always had a bit of a flirtation as he’s clearly a pensive lad and I like to flirt with the pensive lads. After a few moments, it was clear he was happily toasted and he started speaking to me in English. He’s always been shy about his English so it was a surprise to have him all of a sudden so comfortable attempting English with me.

And as we rode in the back of the bus, I realized that the flirtation was mutual. Z’s affection has given me the confidence to see myself and the fact that some men might find me desirable. I saw it last night and in our stolen moments of broken English and Mandarin I saw how affairs begin. He’s coming upon his midlife crisis and I’m sweet and young but mature enough to be sensitive. Alas, I am no longer the mistress. I’ve been down that road and been burned badly enough to know it’s not worth the damage it would cause me alone, much less risking Z.

We got back to the compound and I then poured myself into my apartment to call my mom. It was so good to hear her voice. The shenanigans of the holidays were reaching a full-tilt and home was just as it always is at Christmas. I wished more than anything that I could have home, Z and Xi’An all together but I’m infinitely grateful that I’ve known any of them and have all of them to long for.