Almost exactly five months ago, I flew out of China from Xiamen in Fujian province. Since then I have celebrated New Year's in Kuala Lumpur, listened to a woman in Penang talk about a frustrating experience trying to enter the US, reacted to an attack I saw in Melaka, rode a bike through the Cambodian countryside near Kampot, snacked on spiders, observed people riding motorbikes in Phnom Penh, worked while sipping on drinks at cafes in Ho Chi Minh City, soaked up the atmosphere at a temple in Taipei, considered the unexpected connections my mind made while visiting the U.S., and wondered why a woman in Seoul sat outside a mosque while holding a book written by George W. Bush. And there was much, much more.
Today, after yet another international flight I took a walk through a market.
In some ways it felt so different from the places I've been during the past five months. In some ways it felt so familiar to me. That's probably because the market is in Qingdao, Shandong province. Yes, I'm back in China (中国).
More about that soon.
Today, after yet another international flight I took a walk through a market.
In some ways it felt so different from the places I've been during the past five months. In some ways it felt so familiar to me. That's probably because the market is in Qingdao, Shandong province. Yes, I'm back in China (中国).
More about that soon.
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