Ever since we boarded the Swiss Air flight back to Paris I’ve been trying to process our experiece in China. Two drastically different cities – Beijing, the cultural and administrative epicenter and Shanghai, the showpiece, China’s financial hub and modern metropolis – both of which felt completely foreign at times and oddly familiar at others. Yet unlike my feelings of dépaysement after a mere three days in Istanbul, I wasn’t quite so moved by either city. My expectations were high before arriving – I was going to be transported, culturally jarred, I thought. After all, it was my first visit to Asia, with a capital A.
But I wasn’t. I was, however, fascinated by the people and the culturally driven characteristics that defined them. Sitting in the front seat with taxi drivers while fumbling through the handful of expressions I had memorized to explain our destination, bargaining with vendors at the fabric market, interpreting complex and pages-long restaurant menus, and navigating the metro (miraculously unscathed from all the elbow jabs) put us face to face with so many different people whose daily lives I tried to imagine.
After a few unjudicious decisions, being accosted by a couple of over-eager girls looking to practice their…
