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About 8 weeks ago, I would have thought that my final blog post would begin something like this:

"I'm finally home. I can finally speak English again. It's so nice to eat normal food. I don't know what I was thinking, but I know I'm never going back to China."

The first few weeks of my trip were rough. I felt lost for a number of reasons. And all I could think of was coming home.

And now I am home. And it feels great to have conversations without struggling to communicate. It's comforting to walk into a restaurant and know everything they have on the menu, and then recognize all the food you order. I missed my family. It's great that I finally get to spend a week and half with them before heading up to school. It's been nice talking to friends (especially counselors I worked with at a tennis camp the past few summers) and catching up.

But amazingly, I miss living in China. And I absolutely want to go back. Not right now, but sometime in the future. Maybe for another summer, or maybe for longer. I don't really know.

Why? I guess part of it has to do with the language. When I signed the language pledge 9 or 10 weeks ago, I thought it was the end of the world. Every day I told people "我想说英文" - "I want to speak English." It really was miserable, walking around all day not being able to say anything intelligent to anyone else. I thought ending the language pledge would be the greatest moment of my life. But by the final few weeks (as I mentioned in past blog posts), Chinese started to come much more naturally. Not that my Chinese is great, but I began to feel comfortable talking to anyone. At the same time, I wanted it to keep on getting better. And I knew that the moment the language pledge ended, my opportunities for speaking Chinese were going to decrease too. It would have sounded crazy two months ago, but I kept on speaking Chinese (not all of the time, just some of the time) even after the pledge ended. Mostly to teachers (even though their English was pretty good). And even to friends. So the big ending to the pledge wasn't that exciting at all.

An example of why I like being able to speak some Chinese. On my flight back, a Chinese man placed his carry-on luggage in the wrong overhead compartment. An American woman then came and found she had no space for her luggage. Knowing what had happened, I explained to the Chinese guy in Chinese that the American wanted the person to move their luggage from her spot. Problem solved. It later turned out that the Chinese guy spoke very fluent English, so I really wasn't that important. But it would have been the same if he hadn't. The point is, I've never been able to speak two languages well (a little Hebrew, and very little French, but both really terrible), and I've found it exciting and almost powerful to be able to communicate in both. So I want to keep learning Chinese. And even though I'll continue this year at Yale, it won't be the same.

Without getting too political, I guess another reason why I want to go back has to do with the directions China and the United States are each moving. American criticism of China is endless. There's certainly the impression here that the Chinese government controls every aspect of Chinese life, and that there is no personal freedom. Well, while it seems like every day our own government takes over another aspect of our society (banks, cars, health care...), it seems like China's moving in the other direction. Enough of that for now.

I know a lot of my friends from the trip might not say Chinese people are the friendliest people in the world, but in general, I felt I was treated incredibly kindly and respectfully. I think a story at the airport best illustrates this. Filled with textbooks, flashcards, and random things I had bought in China over the past two months, my suitcases couldn't hold one last bag I had bought as a present for my family that morning (tea, tea biscuits, and Chinese moon cake). So I had to carry it. Unfortunately, as I was checking in my luggage, I put that bag on the ground and forgot to pick it back up before I took the shuttle to our gate. As I passed through security, it hit me that I was missing a bag. I quickly went over to some desk and explained my situation (in Chinese). They gave me a phone number, the person I spoke to gave me another phone number, and finally the next person I spoke to said no bag. Having already passed through security and with very little time before boarding, I realized the situation was hopeless. So I headed towards the plane. At gate E31, I figured I would give it one more try and speak to the people at the check-in desk. Before I could finish my first sentence (in Chinese again), I looked down at the desk - and there was my bag. "这个是我的!" - "This one's mine!" And I got it back. So I guess the woman at the luggage check-in noticed I had lost my bag, figured out where I was going, and got someone to bring it there for me. Probably one of the kindest things a stranger has ever done for me.

And it wasn't just that. It was my host family calling every week organizing weekend plans to take us around Beijing. And it was all of our teachers, who were some of the nicest, friendliest people I've ever met. Or the guys playing basketball who asked me to play with them the second I got there (it took over a year to get asked to play in a game in Riverside Park). And while the occasional shop owner or waiter got frustrated with out lack of Chinese as we bought things or ordered food, most were thrilled we could speak some Chinese. And many told us our Chinese was great and then asked us questions about ourselves and what we were doing in China. Yes, the stares and the occasional "外国人" were difficult getting used to. But once I got over some of the initial challenges, I realized some of my (and others') initial perceptions were wrong.

I still don't know why I am learning Chinese. I still don't really know what I would do in China if I had the opportunity to go back. The more I think about it, the more I realize it's impossible to have one's future follow a mapped out plan.

But even if absolutely nothing comes of it, my summer was a good experience. It made me realize that sometimes the things you are used to aren't necessarily the best. They just seem the best because you are used to them. It's going to take some time before I figure out what those last two sentences mean to me, but I guess I have time.

Thanks to anyone who followed me as I rambled on about my summer. I hope it wasn't too boring. Who knows, I might even write another post one day if it seems relevant. For now, here are the final pictures from China. Two more albums: "Goodbye China" and "Host Father's Pictures."

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