Alex

First of all, this text will contain a lot of contradictions, I'm aware of it. But everything is true. Both the facts that I sometimes get lost, that I get of the buses a station too early or a station too late, that I once accidentally (obviously, I'm not perverted) ordered a plate of sliced tomatoes with a heap of sugar on top of it, and the fact that I, in the end of the day, am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and the situation. (Maybe if I wasn't so layed back, always thinking "Every problem have a sollution, why worry about it?", maybe then I wouldn't screw things up all the time. I would also be constantly stressed and worried.)

Well, of all the stupid things I've done so far in China...

I lost my cellphone bill the first thing I did when I got to China.

Before I left Beijing (the first time) I believed that my Visa card had been demagnitized and walked around for two weeks beliving this. Until I got to Shanghai, ran out of money, couldn't find a bank which would help me, couldn't pay my room bill, and in desperation tried to take out money at the ATM. No problem at all (and that was the worst part).

When I went from Beijing to Wuhan (the first time), I only kept my ticket as a memento, as a keepsake. I would easily have thrown it away, but I wanted to glue it into my diary. I'm a tad sentimental sometimes, I know. When I got of the train it turned out that I had to show my ticket once again before exiting the station. Phew.

I once jumped off the bus after asking California if this was the right stop, and he answered that it wasn't. He then told me that he would appreciate if I could warn him before getting off the bus next time.

I threw away my receipt for my deposit at the hostel in Wuhan and couldn't get my deposit back.

I would have thrown away many other scraps of papers that I later needed, if California hadn't stopped me time and again. He saved the life of many other deposit reciepts. One would believe that when I'd done the mistake once, I wouldn't do it again, but no no.

("Marc, can I throw away this?"

"No Alex, that's the deposit for the room key."

"Marc, can I throw away this?"

"Yes Alex, that's just the reciept from the internet café.")

I got myself a new cellphone number when I got to Beijing. It turned out that I couldn't use it on my old cell. Two days before I left Beijing (the last time) I bought a new cellphone, and used my new number for two days. When I arrived to Wuhan I realized that I have to buy a Wuhanese cellphone number in order to not torture my cellphone bills and my wallet.

I aslo forgot the charger for my new cellphone in Beijing.

Not to mention the complete mess I left behind in Sweden, all the things my poor mother have had to take care of (much appreciated mamma). Everything from me not having enough time to move out all my things from the flat before I left, to forgetting to sign my application for study support (and later, sending the signed copy back to Sweden way way too late), to filling in and signing the wrong papers for a insurance (but this wasn't actually my fault).

Not to mention every other occasion when I've spilled food or drinks on myself, stumbled, fumbled, screwed up, made a complete ass of myself, etc. etc.

...yesterday I did the most stupid thing. It's the most stupid thing because.... because... it was so obvious. I tried to move into my new dorm room. I was very proud of myself for finding the right place at all. I mean, in a unknown city, barely knowing the language, to find the right street, then find the right building in the vast campus area, then find the right floor, then find the right office, I think I have the right to be satisfied with myself on this point. But. (There's always a but.) I was there, ready to sign in, ready to be handed a dorm room.

I didn't bring my admission notice.

(What?! I didn't bring my admission notice?! What?! I mean... oh man... how could I not bring the admission notice??) So the teacher gently told me that he couldn't sign me in. Of course he couldn't. Since, you know, I hadn't brought my admission notice.

The teacher, Li laoshi, teacher Li, a young man with a pretty face (I first though he was a student), asked me:

"Why did you check in at a hostel?"

"What?"

"Next time, I hope you come directly to us. For your safety." ( For my what??)

"My safety..?" (Is there perhaps a reasonable explanation?)

"Yes."

"Eh...." (Speachless, stunned.) "Eh.... but.... I've been around..." (I've been around? What is that supposed to explain? That doesn't sound anything but cocky, geez girl!)

Okay mister, do I look like I need a freaking babysitter??

If I had been someone else, following Alex's adventures through China, there would have been many many occasions when I would have thought: "How have this... this ditz, this moron been able to manage to get around China without 24 hours supersvision?". But. I. Have. Managed. Sure, I did not make the best first impression when I arrived to the university , but what does he think?

I am 21 years old. I have packed up my stuff, left my home, travelled to the other side of the planet, dragged my ass around China alone for more than five weeks, and the first thing I hear when I get to my university is that I shouldn't have checked in to a hostel because it isn't safe for me. Come on, give me some creds here!

The issue here is cultural differences. Chinese youths are kids even when they are old enough to be grown-ups according to western standards. They move away from their parents later, they get taken care of and obey their parents' rules for a longer time. I have been aware of this for a long time. But I did not expect them to include me in this cathegory too.

In Sweden I am 21 years old and I am an adult. I'm a young adult, true, an immature adult, true. But in the eyes of law an society I am an adult with the responsibilities of an adult. Well, I'm new in the adult-business, so I often do need some guideance, need some help, need my mamma to come rescue me. But I have paid my own bills, bought my own groceries and made my own important phonecalls for almost a year and a half now. I am not the responsibility of any one else but myself. I am not a problem that any adult have to take care of and solve. I am my own headache. I am proud of being my own headache. (And what a headache it is sometimes!)

In Sweden that is. In China I am 21 years old and I am a kid. A helpless kid who needs to be taken care of, because I can not take care of myself. I am a treassure, too precious and too delicate to stay at a hostel. It is not safe for me. Li laoshi was only concerned about me, he was only being kind. But god damn if that is the way I will be treated for the rest of the year.

Today I went back to the school and had a new encounter with Li laoshi. He is a very nice person. I tried hard to memorize all the things he told me, but I know I'll have forgotten half of it tomorrow morning. Maybe if the conversation hadn't been kept in Chinese I would have had a chance. It is too early for me to move into my student room. They gave me a room at the universitys guesthouse, at the campus. 20 yuan a night for a bed in a two beds room with a bathroom, it even has an A.C, and it's just a little bit broken (can't change to any other degrees than 25 C, not a big issue). The bed is soft, the room clean, neat and quiet. When I got there earlier today there was noone else there. That my friends, is pure luxury to me. I'll get my real room the ninth of September, one day before school starts.

I'll be homeless for another 10 days, but at least I'm getting closer to the spot on which I'll make myself a home eventually. And have I ever told you how wonderful Wuhan is? No? I'll tell you, some other time. I have a dinner date and a big ass backpack to drag over to my new residence.

Until next time, take care, write me a line so I know you're all still alive.



Alex

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