There are some days everything goes wrong; your VPN isn’t working, cultural adjustments and miscommunications at work, you order some food and they give you something completely different from what you said, someone literally stops and stares at you for being foreign. The life can be grating when you feel like you are living outside of the world you exist in. It’s especially hard when everything feels like a learning curve, but I’m learning that when things go wrong, it’s usually making space for other things to go right.

Most days, its great! Chinese culture is all about hospitality and most will go out of their way to make you feel welcome, particularly as a foreigner. There is the laoban (shopkeeper) that always calls you ‘mei mei’ (little sister) gives you extra xiaobing (a tasty pancake-type snack) after making a fresh batch and says “I love you” (wo ai ni); The local noodle shopkeeper knows you like extra veggies so they add them without asking, or they speak to you in simple Chinese to help you practice your language; The owner of the convenience store at the bottom of the building greets you with “hello;” being able to meet up with old friends to enjoy the new western restaurant with all you can eat tacos on Tuesdays or to have an impromptu KTV night to celebrate the end of summer classes…those are the good days, the days I feel my cup being filled. These are the days I came back here to experience.

99% of the time, I love the life I’m creating here. 99% of the time the taxi drivers and shopkeepers are more than accommodating with your broken Chinese, going so far to even say you speak the language well. 99% of the time I love the work I’m doing because I love the international environment and I love seeing students grow their language. 99% of the time, I welcome and enjoy the challenges because it beats the mundane monotony of the life I was living in America.

But 1% of the time, the days are frustrating and it’s utterly isolating. I can’t handle being one of maybe two Americans in the whole company. I can’t handle the communication adjustments at work and not being able to resolve issues directly because you can’t make someone loose face. I can’t handle the taxi drivers who don’t even try to listen to your directions because they assume you don’t speak the language. I can’t handle people speaking about me in Chinese because they think I don’t understand what they are saying. I can’t handle being stared at constantly like some white western novelty, expected to perform like a circus monkey. I struggle with the little things I used to take for granted in the States because there wasn’t a language barrier. I struggle with the adjustments of making a new routine in a new place where everything is a challenge.

I came here to be challenged, but that 1% of the time the feeling that I’m alone in a city of 13 million kicks in and I realize I’m out of control; I can’t express myself properly; I can’t do my job well because of the language and cultural barriers with my coworkers; I can’t order anything without using Google translate; and I have to ask for help to do the simplest of tasks, like getting a haircut or riding the subway. There are days I want to quit and get on a plane to go right back to my life in America where I was barely getting by and felt completely out of place. At least I could speak the language and had one less thing to worry about before leaving the house. But just because something is effortless doesn’t mean it’s meant for you, and just because something is hard doesn’t mean it’s bad. Usually it’s just the opposite; what challenges us helps us grow into who we are meant to become, and that which is easy keeps us stagnant.

The days when everything feels out of my control have become lessons in letting go, in seeing what happens, hoping for the best, and having some faith that whatever does happen is meant to be. Letting go is not something I’m good at– I like to be in control, and I like to hold on; to things, to people, to emotions, to situations I’ve outgrown…I’m an emotional hoarder and let my mind and heart get filled with junk I no longer need. Previously, this holding on would eventually lead to an emotional explosion where I word vomit whatever I’ve been holding on to for too long. I’m doing my best to communicate what and where I can appropriately, and letting go of the rest. I can’t control anything or anyone but myself and my actions. I can’t control how anyone treats me, but I can control how I treat myself. I can control what I choose to hold on to. I can control where I put my energy. I can control how I respond to what feels out of my control. I can let go trying to control everything and simply enjoy the moments as they come.

Usually, the day after the “I hate China” days make up for them, but in the moment they are debilitating, and I can’t wait to get to the seclusion of my apartment. I hunker down with whatever I managed to order, put on an TV show and forget the foibles of the day. I tell myself “this is China” and remember that nothing positive comes without being balanced by some negative. I remember that the lessons learned on the shitty days will help influence better days to come. And I let go of whatever happened or didn’t happen because in the end nothing is permanent, there is always the possibility for positive change. Especially in China.