Not too long after my first child was born, my mother told me that when I was very young I suddenly announced to her one day I would go to China when I grew up. It must have struck her as odd, because she remembered it. after all those years. But at the time I don’t think she gave it much thought. After all, as a kid I always talked about what I wanted to be when I grew up. In addition, the Cultural Revolution was ravaging China at the time. Nobody was going to China back then. But looking back I think it explains a lot about the path I was going to take in life and the person I was to become.
Caged Tiger
I was never content with the safe, secure world that my parents worked so hard to build for our family. They grew up in a Depression. My father fought in the 2nd Infantry in World War II. Considering what they experienced it makes perfect sense they would want to make their lives and the lives of their children as stable and unchanging as possible. But there is a price to pay for not facing change. For me it was only a matter of time before I started to feel like I was in a cage, and I needed to find a way out.
Going for a Walk
When I was only five or six years old, I walked halfway across town, crossing a busy intersection to visit the neighbors who had lived next door to us and recently moved. The whole time my mother thought I was taking a nap in my room. Now that I have my own children, I realize what a harrowing experience that must have been to find me gone. But I had to go. And despite the punishment I received, I enjoyed my little adventure.
Going for a Ride
Once I was old enough to ride a bike, I began to roam around my hometown.
There were no play dates in those days. The only time we had to be somewhere was dinnertime. We played baseball, built tree forts, and spent our allowances- all without adult supervision. I always tried to go farther than I was supposed to go. I always wanted to try things that I was told not to try. I thought I knew better, but eventually it got me into trouble. Before I entered middle school I ended up in a hospital from alcohol poisoning. There were other problems I caused for my parents, but I think that was the worst.
Going for a Swim
I remember lying in the hospital and thinking I had to change my ways. I joined the Boy Scouts. I focused on camping and learning how to survive in the outdoors. I focused on the scouting ideals. But there were also rules, and I still pushed at them whenever they got in the way. I remember sneaking off at camp one day to swim in a lake that we were told was off limits. We swam there several times before we were caught. Later we found out that the lake had been condemned due to agricultural pollution. All the runoff from a nearby cow farm ended up in the lake.
Kid Dyno-mite!
But sometimes breaking rules or conventions can have good results. I loved playing basketball as a kid. One year I was transferred to a new school. I didn’t like some of the kids at the new school, and they made it know they didn’t like me either. So I continued to play for my old school’s team. Of course, I dreaded the day when both teams met on the basketball court, but I went through with it. In the end I learned a lot that year about friendship and loyalty. I would not have learned those lessons if I had not made the decision to play for my old school as I did. Besides I played for my new school the following year, and we won the league championship.
New Horizons
By the time high school rolled around, my parents were probably getting used to me taking a less conventional route than my siblings. I think that’s why my decision to go away for high school did not surprise them. I attended a boarding school run by an order of missionaries. It was strict compared to what an average teen-ager had to endure. But it gave me my first taste of where I would be going in my life. I was surrounded by people from different backgrounds and cultures. I had teachers who lived and worked in Africa, New Guinea, and Taiwan. I took my first languages courses- Latin and German. And I realized how much I enjoyed learning languages.
Missing Link
After high school I floundered around a bit. I spent some time in Iowa, but eventually ended up at St. Louis University. I lived in an old, cockroach-infested hotel on Grand Avenue that had been converted into a student dormitory. I worked in the store there, meeting students from all over the world. I got to know many of them. I heard their stories, listened to their accents. And I realized that I envied them. They all had something I didn’t, the opportunity to go to another country and speak in another language. But that was all soon to change.
Big in Japan
After my first year, I saw a poster in the student affairs building that caught my attention. The university was looking for three students to go to Japan for an exchange program. I went in to the office, and sat down with the counselor. Fifteen minutes later I signed up. By August I was on a flight to Narita airport near Tokyo, then by shinkansen (bullet train) to Nagoya. I spent a year studying Japanese in Nagoya, struggling to keep up with teachers who seemed more interested in finishing the textbook than in their students learning Japanese. I also struggled with a culture that demanded me to give up more of myself than I wanted to give up.
The Whole Picture
I believe my first year in Japan transformed me like no other year in my life. I went from being a very picky eater to eating whatever was put on the plate in front of me. I went from always thinking about what I wanted to say first to trying to listen to what others were saying or showing me. I went from speaking a few words of Japanese to carrying on conversations, reading signs, and writing letters. I remember returning to St. Louis after my first year in Japan and sitting down with a Japanese student I knew in St. Louis before I went to Japan. She started talking to me in Japanese, and I guess I saw her as a whole person for the first time. It was like I was only able to see half of her when we spoke in English.
Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself
I finished my degree and decided to go back to Japan to teach. But the second time did not have as happy an ending. After three months in Japan I started to feel anxious about my situation and my life. It didn’t make sense. I was back in Japan. I had a good job. I had this wonderful opportunity to improve my Japanese, which I really wanted to do. Everything was right on the outside, but something was definitely wrong on the inside. The anxiety became worse. I lingered on it, and it grew into depression. When it reached that point, I was no use to anyone. I packed my bags and returned to the U.S.
Hell
I went to see doctors. They told me that there was nothing wrong with me. But I could not shake the anxiety and the deepening depression. My family and most of my friends told me there was nothing wrong with me. Everybody thought I should just get on with my life. I got a job teaching ESL (English as Second Language). It only required me to work several hours per week, so I felt I could manage it. I mentioned above that my first year in Japan was the most transformational in my life. But these first three years living with this mysterious anxiety were definitely the hardest years of my life to date. I had to sit and watch my friends and family go on with their lives in a world of sunshine, while this perpetual darkness seemed to hang over me. It took effort for me to do even the simplest things, like get out of bed or drive to the store. Looking back I honestly do not know how I got through those years.
The Key
Finally I had revelation. I was visiting a cousin in Vermont. When I described my “condition” to him, he told me he had the same condition. He said I was having panic attacks. I was cautious at first. I can’t tell you how many times I thought I found out what was wrong with me, and it turned out to be wrong. But the more I read, the more I realized I now had a name for what was hurting me. I learned how panic attacks strike without warning or reason. I learned what happens in the body when anxiety hits, what drugs could be prescribed and what side effects they had. I learned the psychological effect of panic attacks and how different people deal with them. Like peeling an onion, I stripped away the symptoms layer by layer and worked to get at the anxiety itself.
The Path
During this time I had the opportunity to start studying Chinese with a tutor. I would study all week from tapes and out of a textbook, then on Saturday night I would drive an hour to have class. In the beginning I thought it was a great way to keep my mind focused on something positive. And I was doing what I loved again- learning a new language. But after three years I realized that I wanted to take it to the next level. I began to look at studying in China. I found a language school in Xi’an, the ancient capital from where the silk road once began its journey across Asia. I began to save money and make plans to attend.
The Door
By now I thought I had put the worst of my anxiety behind me. I still experienced panic attacks, but they were far fewer and weaker. I still felt uncomfortable afterwards, but I knew I could now get on with my life. I pushed ahead with my plans just like the old days as if nothing could stop me. Then without warning I was hit by a full-force panic attack. It took me by surprise, but I stayed on my feet this time. Some friends of mine recommended a psychologist. The sudden recurrence of powerful panic attacks soon after I made my decision to go to China scared me. It put my decision to go to China in jeopardy. I did not hesitate to call and set up an appointment.
Spring Cleaning
Today I am still reaping the benefits of making that first appointment. From day one the doctor told me that my anxiety was not coming from my desire to go to China to study as many people suggested. After several visits she told me in her professional opinion I would be fine in six months. In other words, I should not alter my plans. But she also said it would get worse before it got better. She was right. It is hard to clean up someone’s “stuff” after they pass away. Memories get attached to things. It is easier just to put them in a box in an attic somewhere and forget about them. But it is vastly more difficult to clean out the emotional and mental “garbage” that one accumulates over the years. I will not go into any details here. I only want to say that there was no transformational moment for me. It was a slow recovery with the anxiety diminishing week by week.
China at Last
Before I knew it, I was on a plane to Japan, then on a boat to Shanghai. From Shanghai I took a three-day train to Xi’an, then a cab from the train station to my school, where I studied Chinese for one year. This fulfilled not only my recent plan to learn Chinese, but also my prophetic words as a child to my mother when I announced someday I will go to China. It is strange how things work out in the end. I have had several panic attacks along the way, but since I was healthier, stronger, and better informed, they never got in my way again.
Year of the Cat
To Western sensibilities China can seem dirty, smelly, and rude. At times during my first year in China, I felt this way. I frequently heard other students (non-Chinese) joke about the differences. But this time around I had the advantage of my experience living in Japan for one year. I knew about culture shock. I knew to get involved with Chinese people early and stay involved throughout. I knew that the language would come eventually with patience and practice. I should not take my frustration out on the country or the people. As a result, my first year in China was more rewarding and enjoyable than my first year in Japan. An added bonus was that Xi’an is part of a very historical area of China. The world-famous terracotta soldiers are just down the road. Almost every weekend the school would arrange for trips to local monuments, graves, temples, and cultural events. I think Xi’an is the only Chinese city that still has its city walls standing. It is also a mixing place of the Han Chinese, Muslims, and several other minority peoples.
Update
I would like to write more, but I have not taken much time to reflect on these last several years. I also think I need to give my experience some time to age. From this point I will fast forward my life to today. A lot happened since my first year in China. I met my wife. I lived in China for another year and taught English. I also lived another year in Japan. Then I moved to Michigan, found a job, and started a family. My life now is work, family, and writing, not always in that order, but most of the time.
Never Say Never
I am not sure if I will ever live overseas again, but my interest in learning languages has not waned. I once met someone who spoke six languages, and I remember thinking what an incredible feat that was. But now I realize given the right circumstances and the right person, it is really not that incredible. It is really more natural than anything else. I like to take this idea into everything I do. Several years ago, I left stories unfinished and dreamt about becoming a writer. Today I have written seven short stories and nearly finished my first novel. I want to always keep fresh in my mind the image of that child who told his mother he will go to China someday.
