The post in which I admit to being kind-of-sort-of homesick.

Two days ago I was sitting in Chinese class, reviewing characters and using half an ear to keep track of the class conversation. The professor was discussing the multiple uses of the verb “xiang” (to want, desire, miss). Noting my dreamy demeanor she immediately asked me:

“Yao Yue Han! Ni xiang jia ma?
Yao Yue Han (my name) are you homesick?

The rest of the class had answered the question with a firm “Bu xiang jia!” (No I am not!), but I couldn’t help but say “you yi diar” (just a little).

Part of this stems from listening to the Sufjan Stevens album, “Come on! Feel the Illinois!” The bland scenery, and occasionally bland people, of my home state do not often serve as the inspiration for lyrical poetry or as the cause of heart-rending yearning, but they do have an appeal when viewed from this side of the ocean. The grass is greener, and the cornfields more romantic, on the other side.

Being in China is changing a lot of my conceptions about the States. Living in Chile was a series of apologies for our government’s less than philanthropic actions in the region. What is so fascinating about being in China is that you encounter a country that can match or exceed the States in terms of fiery nationalism. Chinese people (again I engage in generalizations) are fucking crazy about their country. This can be attributed to many things; having the world's longest continuous culture, ethnic identity, a difficult and exclusive language, Communist Party propaganda, racism, a strong anti-outsider mentality, to name a few. This is best illustrated in Chinese views of Japanese. The Japanese royally fucked China in the early 20th century, but the level of animosity that exists between Chinese people and Japanese is staggering. Take the “average American’s” feelings toward the French and multiply it by a 100 and you will begin to approach the Chinese hatred of the Japanese. At this point the emotions are based on and tied to the Chinese concept of national identity. A similar intensity exists with regard to Taiwan. Taiwan just isn’t that important (or cool) but Chinese people will fight to the death to “reunite” the mainland and the island.

Seeing foreign policy from a Chinese perspective has made me a teeny-tiny bit more moderate in my view of American policy. When living in America it’s very easy to demand the US act in a purely philanthropic and utopian way, but seeing Chinese thought patterns emerge and their understanding of hegemonic power, I can see more justification for the US having a policy that says “Fuck you, we gotta watch out for number one!” Please, do not think I am abandoning my (relatively) liberal views, but I do have a greater appreciation for the decidedly American form of pragmatism that tends to govern our foreign policy (I repeat, I understand the justification for it, I still believe the implementation to be short sighted and incredibly damaging internationally).

Politics aside, I find myself missing cheese-fries with ranch, grain silos, K-Mart, and the way my dog smells after being groomed. Sitting at my computer it’s easy to pretend I’m at Loyola, which is a comfort when feeling a little blue, but I’m fundamentally happy that leaving my room will entail pushing past a group of (inevitably) noisy Koreans, over a pile of people playing Mahjong and to a restaurant where I will eat with chopsticks. The rolling plains of the Midwest have a strong appeal, but not nearly as strong as “jiaozi” (pot-sticker or pork dumpling).

(side note: I have a problem with jiaozi, I could eat 1000 of them a day. I dream of being put in a prison made of jiaozi and being forced to eat my way out)

I expect my newfound (re-discovered?) love affair with all things American to fade upon my return, but for now I sure am glad I can get NPR on iTunes and own every Joni Mitchell CD in existence.