If I could characterize the Americans in this location I’d probably use three adjectives:
-Polite
-Portly
-Planted
They’re well mannered, and helpful. Most of them are on the large side, the effects of the American diet and limited physical exercise, and finally they are very rooted. They’ve lived here all their life, in the house their parents grew up in, two doors down from the house their grandparents lived in.
It’s that kind of city. Everyone seems to know everyone. The roads are paved, of course, but if you’re not careful, you’ll end out in the middle of nowhere. But nowhere is somewhere to someone, a piece of home and heritage. When I’m biking or running to the gym, I pass goats grazing on the hillside, sheep by a barn, and pair of savvy cows, who eye me suspiciously as I ride past them. Needless to say, the pace of life is quite slow here. Quite a contrast to the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong life.
Even my gym is drastically different. For one thing, its vert small. Less than one tenth of the size of Physical in Hong Kong. Often, I’m the only person working out there, but its the way I like it. (I’ve been in a gym with more than 300 people working out in Hong Kong).
It’s not the easiest spending time here in Pennsylvania. Though the way of life is slower, it’s not the only thing, I’ve had to adjust to. This place just has never been my home. My parents moved here, around the same time I was moving to Hong Kong. I don’t know many folks in this “neck of the country”. Moving to any place is difficult, if I’ve adjusted to Hong Kong life, than a small USA town should be easier. But just because you might speak the same language, look like the people, and even talk in the same mannerisms and ticks -- it doesn’t mean you think the same way, or even have the same objectives and outlook on life. Inside, you feel much different. Its like your a subterfuge, a hidden citizen with a different agenda.
But that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be so detached from this way of life. I’ve realized that I need Christian fellowship, and I’ve already started to reattach myself to different Christian youth and young adult groups here.
In one location, I found quite a number of pick up trucks and jeeps... the first thought in my mind was “Great, I’m going to church with a bunch of country-bumpkins.” Well, that’s just a first impression, and I know you cannot base experiences on first impressions. I have found that the people here are good people, just much different than the type of people that I’ve been around for the past two years . I end up speaking a little slower, and my southern drawl has come back in my conversations with them. Its quite interesting .
I asked just about every person at this one church (keep in mind, that these people are my age or four years younger) what their occupations were: construction, electrical, sheet-walling, or university students. I have just about nothing in common with most of them, but I’m enjoying Christian fellowship with people a little closer to my age.
My hunt for a new church has taken me to many different places. I have one church that I go to Bible study on Thursdays. One where I go to 18-28 year olds fellowship on Tuesdays. And a third, I will be going to for solid old-fashioned preaching (on sunday or sunday nights). I may end up going to an international church on Sunday mornings, or a Korean church. (I heard a rumor that there is one nearby, and truth be told, I miss seeing Asians).
Speaking about Asians, my mother said something too racist not to be funny. I found a troupe of traveling ants ransacking my bedroom the other day. I couldn’t understand why they were there, I hadn’t spilled any food in my room. So I went in to notify my mother:
“Mom, there are ants in my room.”
“Well, have you been eating in your room?”
“Yes, but they aren’t anywhere near where I had food. Besides, I cleaned everything up. They’re near my suitcases, not my desk.”
“Maybe you brought them from Hong Kong, Asian Ants... did you look at their eyes? Did they look like this?” and with that comment she took her two index fingers up to slant her eyes.
It’s one of those comments, that catches you off-guard, you try not to encourage those sort of comments, but they’re too funny not to laugh at. (And I would be remiss not to mention, but my mother isn’t a racist, but she sometimes has this off-beat sense of humor, which I’ve of course inherited).
Well, I finally found the culprit. Someone had spilled cracker crumbs outside in corner of my door and down the hall. These hypersensitive ants, must have smelt a delicious snack and went out for a munch. I never did get a good look at their eyes, but I think they were local bumpkin ants, not their Asian cousins.
Well this concludes my first few weeks here in America. I’ll of course keep you informed of any new developments that are taking place. And where ever you’ll be reading this note in the world, I hope you have a wonderful day.
- Greg Out!
