I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams

So it’s 7:30pm on Christmas Eve here in Qufu, and up until this moment, it really has not felt like Christmas here. Throughout the past 3 days or so, I kept expressing my disbelief that in 3 days, 2 days, tomorrow, it would be Christmas. I was also a bit upset by this. I wanted it to feel like Christmas—snowy, pine scented, and shimmering—and yet now, just hours before the actually day, now that I feel that it really is Christmas time, I wish it didn’t.

I have made it through 4 months, Thanksgiving, and my birthday without really wishing that I was home instead of here. I even made it to 4 and half hours before Christmas, and then I got a package for my parents. I new this package was on the way; I regularly check to see if it had come. When it finally came, tonight at 7pm, I was so happy for 5 minutes opening it. It was the perfect package filled with gifts no one but someone living in China would really want or appreciate—pancake mix, maple syrup, taco seasoning, a pinecone—but it was perfect. And then everything thing was opened, the excitement was gone but the gratitude remained, and I began to miss home, miss my family, miss Christmas time in my house. I think that not feeling like it was Thanksgiving, my birthday and then Christmas really protected me from feeling as if I was missing out. I know the feeling will subside; I’ll have a wonderful Christmas here in Qufu and many more wonderful Christmases back home in the future.

So Happy Holidays to all, have a wonderful New Year, hug your family extra tight for those who aren’t able to be home.

Teaching and Travel

Today is my last real “teaching” day of the semester, and it couldn’t have come fast enough. It seems that being a teacher in front of the classroom has not changed the attitude that regularly took hold of me as a student at this time of year. I need a break. In some ways I need the break simply in order to get out of Qufu. I love it here, I really do, but having not left Qufu for 3 months I am going a little stir crazy. I also need the break to get excited about teaching again. I need to relax, regroup and then instill my teaching with some energy once again.

As you may tell, I am eager to get out of Qufu, and I have already begun planning what I will do for my 2 months of vacation—it has not been an easy process. Travel in China, and the process of arranging travel in China, is like nothing I have ever experienced before. In America, even in Europe, it is easy to arrange round trip tickets and to buy tickets for multiple destinations on a trip. Not so in China. You purchase train and bus tickets usually just a day or two before you wish to travel, and you can only buy one way tickets. You can also only buy tickets in the city of your departure. So I will go to Shanghai, then Zhuhai, then Guangzhou, then Macau, then Guangzhou, and then Hainan. But at this point, if I hope to travel only by train and bus, I can only purchase my ticket from Qufu to Shanghai. You really have no choice but to “fly by the seat of your pants” and hope that tickets will match hotel reservations (if you have been bold enough to book them).

At this point it seem that I will be traveling for about 7 weeks straight, and I’m sure my vacation will not be that relaxing, but I am excited to see more of China. The first week of January I will take a 23 hour train north to Harbin. This Russian-influenced city is home to a spectacular snow and ice festival each winter. I will admit, however, that I am a little worried about the cold. My weather widget tells me that this Sunday’s low is -19F. Yes, you read correctly, I did not mistake an F for a C. -19 Fahrenheit. Wish me luck.

Another day, another competition

It has been quite some time since I last wrote about my experiences in china, and really not much has happened. As has been mentioned before, we have settled into our routines here. My days follow roughly the same pattern—wake up, put water on to boil while I wash up, drink coffee, eat breakfast, teach class, go online, pretend to grade, lunch, nap, Chinese lesson or free talk with students, pretend to grade, watch tv or a movie online, dinner, read, grade, go for a run, shower, watch tv or a movie, sleep. There is very little variation to these habits. I should also mention that frequently thrown into the pattern is “judge.” As a foreign teacher, I am asked to judge competitions on a near weekly basis. China is obsessed with competitions, an obsession that I am sure was not helped by this summers Olympic games. They use competitions to assess almost every single skill. Singing, acting, basketball playing, dancing, speaking, movie “voice-overing”.

Two weeks ago I began my morning sitting in the back of a police ca

r and ended it by getting 600 yuan. A day that should have been filled with new and exciting experiences, really felt not too different. Granted I was judging a police officers speaking competition but still. Very little about China shocks me anymore. That it should be different and “shocking” has become almost expected. Of course they wo

uld drive me to the competition in a police car. Of course the police car would be a Mercedes. Of course it would have black leather interior. Of course a plastic pink comb would be sitting on the black leather back seat of the Mercedes cop car. Of course – I would expect nothing else than to be “shocked” by the strangeness of the experience.

This particular speech contest was a bit more of a to-do. It was a contest for all of Shandong province and a contest of government employees so a bit more ceremony existed. It was also not in a classroom but a rather plush hotel in Jining. The hotel was perhaps the nicest one I had been in a few years. I even got my own hotel room, complete with cushy bed, down pillows and duvet, and HBO, for naptime after lunch. 

The competition itself was and English speech competition for the immigration bureau of Shandong. The participants' speech could be on any topic they wished for a length of up to 8 minutes. Most speeches had similar themes: duty, respect, responsibility, Olympics, service, etc. What I found most interesting was how many speeches gave examples of experiences in which the police officers had to put aside family for their job. Women in their mid 20s spoke about sobbing as they left their sick baby in the hospital to go to the office to expedite a visa for a foreign businessman. This was one of the few things about the day that actually did shock me. These women were not leaving to bust a drug lord or rescue a child from a kidnapper; they were leaving to issue a form. Further, this act was one that they deemed honorable and noteworthy enough to include in a speech, but then this type of act speech to the society in which they live and the government under which they live. And so, upon thinking about the speeches some more, I am no longer shock. I am in China—of course this would be the subject of a speech.

The competition also included some skits. This one was about Swedish athletes who were in Qingdao for the sailing competitions for the Olymics. Their visas were expiring the next day but they wanted to visit Beijing. 

Bachelors' Day!

Today, November 11th, is Veterans Day back home. A day to honor those who fought to protect our country. Here in China, today is bachelors' day. I'm not exactly sure what that means other than the fact that it is a day to celebrate the single men and women of China. From a quick search of the internet I've found that it is an unofficially holiday that was started by single high school and college students a few years ago. The day, 11/11, has become quite the vogue around college campuses and though I'm not sure what exactly people do to celebrate--students are much more chaste here--I did discover that in some cities 30-something singles gather at "marriage fairs." I love that China has a day, official or not, celebrating almost everyone. Earlier I was honored on teacher's day, and now, today, I can celebrate my singledom. Take that Valentine's day. 

Their very first foreigner

On Sunday Lucy and I went to a town near by--about 30 minutes drive from Qufu--to teach children between the ages of 5 and 12. We really didn't know anything more than that when we were picked up at 7am. During the ride there I was tired and not really looking forward to spending my Sunday in a classroom teaching. We arrived in the center of town and split up; Lucy would go to 3 schools and I would go to another 4 all in surrounding villages. Once I walked into the school my feelings about the day radically changed. The children were all so incredibly energetic and enthusiastic. I think Lucy described it best when she said she felt like Santa. Because we were the first foreigners that they had even met they were shy and hesitant in deciding what to make of me at first. Was I real? And then, moments later, once they decided that I was not someone--or something--to be afraid of they swarmed. For 3 hours I moved from class to class, school to school. The children had been taking English for anywhere from 2 months to 4 years so their levels varied. After introducing myself to each class, I would answer their questions--all the basic phrases they had learned: what is your favorite color; what is your favorite food; do you like oranges; what is your favorite sport? Then they would sing me a song or chant a song or two. I would then teach them a song and play a game with them. For most classes I taught them "Head, Shoulders, Knees & Toes" and they all learned very quickly. After singing the song and doing the motions together a few times, I would point to a part on my body and they would have to say it correctly or I would say a part of my body and they would have to point to it. Though some were a moment or two behind the others, most learned quickly--we'll see if they retain any of it.


After 3 hours of teaching Lucy and I met up again and taught a large group of very young children ring around the rosie. Holding hands with one little girl in a pink puffy jacket, I really noticed just how curious, enthusiastic, yet shy many of them were. She wouldn't really look me in the eye when I asked her questions, yet she clung to my hand, not wanted to let me go. We signed dozens of "autographs" in their textbooks in a frenzy of pushing and shoving and then said good bye. Following teaching, we were treated to a feast for lunch. Six or so dishes of food came out and we ate quickly, hungry and worn out by the long day. Having stuffed ourselves we forced ourselves to make room as another 5 dishes appeared. We did our best not to appear rude in refusing to eat more. We arrived back at our apartments at about 1:30 in the afternoon, exhausted from the morning but grateful for the experience.

The conditions of each school varied dramatically. Some were a large complex with larger, clean classrooms while others really nothing more than a single room in a rapidly aging building. From what I could gather, the each school was part of the larger single organization that had brought us there. Most seemed to have to do with educating the children of coal miners as the town is supported largely by coal mining. The children were all adorable though--I have to say Chinese children really are the cutest. Some were dressed in school track suites while others, mostly the girls, wore tweed jackets and knee high boots, making them appear almost as miniature adults. In the spring, when my Juniors go to their hometowns to do student teaching for a 5 weeks, I hope to be able to go back to the schools more regularly and really interact with the children.

Election Day

I went to bed last night in China with polls opening across the country in America. In some ways I am disappointed not to be in the US or even awake during election day. November 4th is bound to be a historic day and I am not there to experience it. But as disappointed as I am, sleeping through the anxiety has its benefits as well. I slept last night like a child on Christmas Eve. I also slept like a high school student the night before the SATs, dreaming that I walked into the test with no pencil and no clothes on, or in this case that something horribly wrong would happen when election results began to come in. When I finally got out of bed and readied myself for class, the first polls were just closing. Now I am sitting in my living room, computer on my lap, NPR WAMC streaming, and refreshing nytimes.com and cnn.com every other minute or so. It is strange to be so far away from America on such a monumental day. I can only imagine how different the atmosphere in America is from here in China. Here, everyone is going about their day as usual. They are not just indifferent, but oblivious to what is happening in the US. 

Looking back, I remember the only other presidential election that I have voted in--the 2004 election. It was my freshman year of college, and I was in a overwhelmingly liberal environment. I remember sitting in the common room watching the news until about 3 in the morning, desperately hoping that something would happen to change the direction that the results were going. In the defeat there was a sense of community though. I think that is what I feel I am missing out on most today--and what I will be missing most tomorrow. As results come in, it appears that tomorrow will be a day that marks the first step in a new direction; yet, I will, for the most part, experience it alone. 

birds & old men

This morning one of the other American teachers here, Lisa, and I woke up early on a Sunday morning to go on a bit of an adventure. In past years Lisa had discovered that early in the morning old men would gather in a park in Qufu. The group gathers to talk--about what I do not know--but seems to use the excuse of "airing" their birds. Each man will carry his little pet bird(s) in beautiful old cages on the back of a bike or cart. 

So out we went at 7am to the park about a 15 minute bike ride away from my apartment. We wandered about taking pictures and endeavoring to interact; Lisa better than me--smiles and nods seem still seem to be my strongest method of communication. Across a small waterway or mote of sorts, the rest of the park was filled with men and women doing their morning exercises. Most have past their mid-forties, but each seems to have an incredible about of

 energy. As we walked our bikes through the w

inding paths, old women shuffled by, our presence giving them fresh gossip. We stopped for a bit to look at a plaza where couples ballroom-danced to music that blared from two speakers beneath a willow-like tree. 

As I walked through the park, I couldn't help but notice the vast difference between a Sunday morning in China, more specifically Qufu, and New York City. In New York, Sunday morning before 10 is my favorite time. The city is quiet, still sleeping in, and so becomes my own. To match the quiet, a haze blankets the city as light reflects off the morning air.

 If you head to 

Central Park you will see people running and biking, 

but almost everyone is young.  The setting, the haze, light, cool air, all match New York City, but the atmosphere is completely different. The exercising crowd is older, the day has already begun, hours ago in fact, and exercise is not so much a chore to keep up appearances but an yet another opportunity to socialize. 

autobiographies

So for the past three weeks or so I have been really awful at keeping my blog updated. Perhaps it is because I have truly settled into my life here. I have my routines down, I am no longer really making new friends but developing the friendship I have, and classes have become somewhat predictable. Nothing much exciting has happened for me in Qufu since I returned from Shanghai; yet, I still notice differences in culture each day. I will have to make more of an effort to get my observations down each day.

This past week I have been reading and grading "Autobiographies" from my junior sections. Though many of them are the same, and the same cliched language is use throughout, it has been fascinating to get a look into the life of a typical Chinese student. How they spend their childhood and adolescence is so remarkably different from not only how I spent my own but also how the majority of Americans spend theirs. For my students scores and ranks among their class have been a part of their life since the age of 7 or so. Their schooling is not so much a means to develop an independent and creative individual but someone who will continue to past tests so as to make it to college. The pressure to advance in education here is so strong that often it seems as if children really miss out on a childhood. Nearly all of my students have included vignettes of a playful youth who had to push her innocence aside as a result of a bad test score. So many of my students regard their time in middle and senior high school as the worst time in their life. 

It is strange for me to look back my own experience as a teenager and remember anything other than inspiring teachers, supportive friends, and parents who encouraged me to believe that the possibilities for my future were endless. I am not so naive as to believe that my experiences are the same as every other American--I know that I have been blessed in my family, friends and education--but to look at teenage years as so life altering is something very different from the culture that I have grown up in. 

It is strange, too, how many of the autobiographies I have read that have included losing a parent by illness or accident. Having only read through a third of my students' papers, or about thirty autobiographies, at least five have experience the painful loss of a loved one. Again, this is a characteristic of their lives that I find very different from Americans'. 

Their stories are not with out inspiration though. Many write beautiful descriptions of their love for their parents and their gratitude for all that they have given up in order to provide them an education. For many of my students, they are the first of their family to study in college or even graduate from high school. They recognized the opportunities that education will afford them and their motivation is inspiring. Though only about 40 percent of students graduating will be able to find jobs in the fields and at the levels they have studied, they are all hopeful for a prosperous and fulfilling future. 

I think what has been most rewarding about reading these autobiographies is not simply hearing their stories but seeing the work and effort my students put into them and the enjoyment they have taken from writing. When I told my students that they would be writing autobiographies, or at least parts of an autobiography, many responded with a look of doubt on their faces, saying, "But we haven't done anything. Our lives are not important." I told them that people write autobiographies, not because they are important but because there are people, places and events that are important to them. In that way, their stories have value. I like to think that in assigning them each to write an autobiography, I have helped them see themselves and their lives as meaningful because they have happened. Perhaps I have, in some small part, moved them out of the "group" for a moment and allowed them to see themselves as worthy of a story. 

Picture!

So I'm off to Shanghai today! But before I go I wanted to let everyone know that I quickly got over my homesickness by going to a welcoming performance for the freshman. It was a great talent show-where some people had significantly more talent than others. Anyway, here are a bunch of pictures from my time here so far.


Right outside a dvd store we went to in Jining... a bit sketchy but then again this is China.

Some pictures from my trip to Qingdao. It was a really beautiful city. The old city really has a wonderful European feel to it as a result of the German occupation in the early 20th century. 

View from my room in the hostel. 

Bird cages on the sidewalk hanging on from trees. 

These clams were still alive and squirting, waiting to be sold at one of many little local shops. 

more pictures of Qingdoa! A square in from of an old german church where lots of wedding photos are taken either for advertisements or for personal use (we couldn't really tell). A building that once must have been very beautiful; old man selling shellfish down by the water; views of the city and water from "bathing beach" No. 2. 

  
            

    

 

Pictures for the International Beer Festival at Qingdao International Beer City (the main location for the festival. It was a very strange combination of a family carnival and one big drinking party. We kept thinking how strange it was to have so many children running around and how there was no one there to check IDs - an event like this would never take place in America. The festival was a lot of fun - lots of different German beers each with its own "beer garden" and performers (Traditional musicians, acrobats, and wannabe pop stars). Everyone was incredibly welcoming and wanted to drink with the waiguoren.

Random parade at about 4pm

I think we found Osama - he was selling kebabs at the

Lots of neon lights and lots of people - just a really fun atmosphere 

Another day

I am homesick today for the first time. Today had the potential to be good like every other day has been. But upon leaving my class this morning (we have class this weekend to make up for some of our vacation time next week), I discovered that someone had stolen my bike. I am almost a hundred percent sure that it was locked up but the lock simply goes between the spokes of the rear tire and so it can be easily carried away. Or perhaps the lock was not in completely. Either way, I am now, again, without a bike and $50 down. I want to be angry and scream but really there is nothing for me to do about it. Still it has made me homesick—for America, for my family, for New York City’s public transportation system, for my car in Connecticut. I know that bikes get stolen in the US—Matt certainly knows this—but somehow it has all just made me miss home.
I have been lucky though; I have been here over a month and it is just now that I am having my first bout of homesickness. I guess it is to be expected. I got cheese and butter yesterday. My excitement was like that of a five year old on Christmas morning. But today that excitement has gone and I really just miss the comforts of home and having my family near by. It’s not so much even missing my family as it missing the possibility that I could see them easily or even at all if I wanted to. Right now all I want to do is to take a long shower and have a good cry, to put this day behind me and move on but hot water doesn’t come on for another two hours; and so I am left to sit and reflect over the day.
I came to China excited for the many adventures I would have and despite my homesickness I still am excited. I leave for five days in Shanghai on Monday and I am hopeful that an international city of its size will satisfy my need for a taste of the west. But though I came to China in part to explore, I have found myself craving the stability and familiarity of home. Perhaps I am not the adventurer that I once thought I was.
I don’t want to leave you all thinking that I am miserable. Really, I am not even sad, just nostalgic I guess. Bikes are not that expensive. Tomorrow will be another day. Next week will be another wonderful experience, and I truly feel blessed to be able to spend this year in China.

time flies

I have been in China for 4 weeks today. It is hard to believe that almost a month has passed since I first arrived. It feels like only yesterday that I wandered off of a plane in Jinan and onto a van to Qufu. Yet, after only 28 days I feel incredibly comfortable in my life here. Today is grey and humid. My students are writing away this morning in my Postgraduate class, fanning themselves in the thick air. I am definitely ready for the fall to come.

For the past two days I have been teaching my postgraduate students how to write a paragraph and how to write instructions. The first half of the class--paragraph structure--has been very boring and quiet. I've yet to learn how to make topic, support, and concluding sentences fun.  But each time I get to instruction writing, the students seem to become a bit more lively. Perhaps it is easier to understand. Perhaps it is that they think I'm an idiot when I ask them to write instructions for how to make a cup of tea. Stupid American who only knows coffee. Teaching writing has been challenging though, especially with my postgraduates. They are all very smart people, they have taken numerous test that have allowed them to continue their studies and so it is difficult to gauge what is helpful and new to them and what is simply pedantic and condescending. I am looking forward to moving beyond some of the more "practical" writing subjects and into narrative and descriptive writing where hopefully my skills as a native English speaker--and writer--will be more overtly helpful. 

This weekend the Qufu crew and myself will leave Qufu for the second time. As Rachel recently told you we went to Jining for an afternoon last weekend. It was nice to see a larger city and something other than Qufu and Confucius. Though Jining is a bigger city, it have very little tourist appeal and so I can understand the increase in Hallos and stares. Tomorrow we leave for Qingdao, a much more economically developed city and a city with a rich history since the end of the 19th century. Germans occupied the city in 1897 until the end of World War I during which time the city underwent rapid development with the introduction of electricity and a railroad connecting it to Jinan, the province's capital.  And so because of its German heritage, Qingdao is known as "China's Switzerland". It is a strange, but apparently very beautiful mix of architectural styles. It is also home to the world famous Tsingtao beer. And it is not coincidence that we are going for the first weekend of the International Beer Festival. As much fun as Qufu has been, it has little in the way of nightlife so it will be a nice change of pace. 

When we return from Qingdao, I will have seven straight days of teaching as we have to make up classes for the time we have off during National week (Sept 29-Oct 5).  During this time the Qufu crew will head to Shanghai and meet up with Carrie and Travis. It will be a busy, but exciting few weeks and so it's time for me to get ahead on lesson plans. Wish us luck!

Settling In

I’ve been in China for over a week now and I’ve finally begun teaching. Life here is slowly starting to take shape. I’m gaining new routines each day, becoming more familiar with the neighborhood and city as a whole. I know that the shop across from my apartment sells delicious soft pretzel-like bread with a sweet glaze and sesame seed that makes a great breakfast—even better if you put some cinnamon on it. I know that “ji” (third tone) mean chicken and that if I go to a restaurant and order a dish with the word “ji” in it a may get an entire chicken hacked to pieces. And though I’m not quite used to the chicken head on my plate, I’m used to the fact that if I order a dish it may show up. Life is becoming comfortable here. I no longer feel like I’m halfway around the world; I’m simply living away from home as usual. I’m in love with the midday naps people take and evening communities of families and students that mingle outside in the mild nights here. The children are adorable and if it didn’t happen so frequently their “haaalos” might almost be endearing. I don’t think I will ever get used to seeing them do their ‘business” (number one only—hopefully) on the street, but again, like the chicken, I’m getting used to the fact this is what they do.

I’ve only taught three classes so far—I will have five a week in total—and have found the students incredibly welcoming. They are so eager to please and motivated to learn that it makes teaching them easy and enjoyable. I am teaching all writing courses and though my students have goals of improving their skills most have asked me if I think writing courses can be interesting and fun. In learning English they are especially eager to learn more about Western Culture and to improve their speaking. So I will have to find ways of keeping them entertained and enthusiastic about my course—any ideas are welcome.

Life in Qufu, though different in many ways from America, is comfortable. Life is not as rugged as you may think. There are fast food restaurants, though street food is just as fast and often tastier. I can find rice cookers, electric kettles, alarm clocks, sheets, pillows, even Tupperware in many stores including a large and very clean department store downtown. Shops sell trendy clothes in buildings that, though old and rich in history on the exterior, blast pop music from modernly designed interiors. My apartment has strong AC to combat the day’s humidity and heat, and I can find all the cold drinks I want. It is an incredibly interesting time to be in Qufu. This city that has been around for thousands of years, and it's six hundred year old architecture is developing. But though its developing, it is doing so in its own way of honoring and preserving its history—hopefully this practice will continue. People text on cell phones while they wait for a chicken to be butchered in the market. There is a wonderful balance between the old and the new and in how people utilize both in their daily lives.

So I am slowly settling in. Whatever anxieties I had about the year I will spend here are fading away. Though interaction is often difficult with the very little Chinese I have, optimism about the language I will acquire and about the relationships that will grow, has taken root and I am excited to see where I will end up.

Things I've been missing

I've been in China for about four days now, and understandably I've begun to miss home a bit. But sorry friends and family who are reading things, its not you yet. I miss the little things from home that I never really thought about. Hot water. My apartment has it every day for five hours: 6am-8am and 8pm-11pm. I miss the luxury of waking up and hopping in for a nice hot shower. I also miss drinkable tap water and the ease of brushing my teeth. No rinsing with bottled or boiled water; a nice cold gulp after I've rinsed. I rinse my plates with boiled water before I use them to get rid of the tap water I've just cleaned them in. My bed here is fairly comfortable but my one pillow is just not cutting it and no where near my fluffy cocoon I'm used to. Good crusty bread. Most of the bread I've had here is a sweet, Challa like bread with a mildly stale texture. Cheese. I love it; they only have processed. I also miss eavesdropping. One of my favorite ways to pass some time waiting in line or on a bus back in the US, eavesdropping is impossible for me here. Often I can tell that people are talking about me, but I can't understand what they're saying.  So the next time you wake up at 10am in your fluffy bed and take a hot shower, brush your teeth and rinse tap water and think, "hey, i'll have cheese for breakfast" with a side of listening-to-someone-else's-conversation, think of me.

Things here are good though. My apartment is large and spacious. Though it's still pretty bare, it's beginning to feel like home. Slowly the nuisances of the water situation are becoming comfortably, a part of my daily life. Classes begin on Monday and I'm more than a little nervous to begin teaching. I'm really just now beginning to feel the weight of the responsibility I have to these students. My classes and how I prepare my students will affect further education opportunities and subsequently their ability to get a job after graduation. 

But life is good. China is continually surprising in me with humors curiosities, like the multi-cultural pair of little boys in the underwear on my fridge and many other electrical appliances here. 

8.26.08 - leaving

Three months, fifteen days, four hours and some odd minutes ago, I started a countdown on my computer. I had months to comprehend the idea that I really would, in fact, be leaving for a year in China. I've been excited from the beginning, but nervous nonetheless. Having attended boarding school in high school, I've lived away from home eight months out fo the year since I was fourteen, but my family has never been more than a hundred miles away. Will I be able to manage six thousand plus?

Six hours, thirty-five minutes, and some odd seconds remain before my plane takes off. I've said "see you in a year" to friends and family, afraid goodbye might mean much more. I'm nervous of what's to come. A type of nervousness that pushes me to step beyond what is normal and comfortable; a nervousness that makes me want to both vomit and smile at the same time. But though I've readied myself to leave, I've yet to truly say hello to the life I'll live for the next year. Tennessee Williams advised, "Make voyages! Attempt them... There is nothing else." And so my journey begins.