I’ve lived in China for two-and-a-half years now and been self-employed for one-and-a-half.

Mine is quite an independent lifestyle that plenty of friends back home envy.

I don’t yearn for things many Americans do, like a more exciting life or more financial freedom.

But I do have my worries, which I’d like to share because although more and more articles are appearing to the theme of “Go East, Young Man” – which catalogue the movement to China of young, driven businesspeople - they fall short of explaining our hopes, which are plenty unsatisfied, and fears, which are a-plenty.

These articles, like the recent one in Esquire called “The New American,” are full of unintentional hyperbole, calling Shanghai Blade Runner-esque, for instance. Somewhere there’s that new but not new enough suggestion that China is the new Wild West. And there’s the rather predictable account of a protagonist who had the balls to move to China and seek treasure in a jungle, and good for him!

Perhaps that’s enough for readers of Esquire, grateful in between meals at Wendy’s to catch a glimpse of these new Americans like monkeys in a jungle.

But we young Westerners here on mainland ground know that we’re complex creatures. Very little of our hopes have to do with wanting more adventure. And our fears aren’t about getting pummeled in a backroom bar by Chinese mafia.

I hope, for example, that I’ll have some lasting impact on Chinese society. I fear that my hope is fading the longer that I’m here.

I hope that I’ll make a lot of money. I fear that fighting tooth and nail, I will, and one day will wake up and realize that none of it mattered as much as seemingly small and insignificant acts. Like when I bought a goat meat sandwich for a crazy old lady sitting dirty on the street. She accepted and lifted her hand in the air to pay two RMB, only to break into a three-year-old’s missing-teeth smile when I refused the money.

I hope that I become totally fluent in Chinese. I fear that I will, and shortly thereafter, I’ll leave China.

I hope that I’ll have my own family soon. I fear that I will, and having been born in China, they’ll have to leave their homeland.

I hope that I won’t always have to live in a skyscraper. I fear that I won’t, but instead of retiring to that remote country home of all of our dreams, I’ll end up in the suburbs somewhere if not here. It’s hard to escape that part of America, no matter where you live on the globe.

I hope I’ll be able to spend more time with my parents in their golden years, assisting them when they need it. I fear that their golden years have already begun, and could end any day now.

I hope there still are more interesting things in life to experience than living in China. I fear that there are, and that I won’t experience them because I’m stuck balancing the books here.

I hope I’ll actually like most Chinese food someday. I fear I won’t.

I hope someday I’ll wake up and move to back to Delaware where I’m from. I fear I will, but will always be homesick no matter where I live for ever more.

I hope tomorrow I’ll try to give back more than I give today. I’m afraid I may, but today I’m not giving very much. I’m definitely getting a whole lot more living and working in China, and the older I get, that’s starting to scare me.

    Channel: Local Wisdom     |