Here I am in Kimpo, South Korea, a few weeks after that fated day, the day when I last saw Beijing. I’m still dazed and confused, utterly blindsided by what just happened to me these past few months. Indeed, what just happened?
I woke up at 7 that morning, but went to sleep at 3. Last day celebration extravaganza at Wudaokou, Beijing’s foreigner/bar district. Wasn’t too tired that morning. It was more of a wispy “dude, I can’t believe I’m leaving this place, this place I’ve called home for the last 4 months” kind of feeling. I packed up my stuff. Ended up buying so many souvenirs that I had to buy a second luggage case. For some reason my judgment lapsed during that purchased and I convinced myself that 300 RMB wasn’t bad for a luggage case. I completely failed to factor in the Chinese’s continual dedication to craftsmanship and quality (insert sarcasm). But hey, you get what you pay for.
My friends all gathered to my dorm room door at around 10:30 in the morning. They wanted to catch lunch with me before I headed off, as I was the first to leave out of our group. With some degree of poetic irony, I chose the shoujuabing stand. As Gob Bluth once said: Return from whence you came. I slapped Nick on the back and asked him if he remembered our first time there and the buttload of troubles we had just trying or order something, anything. We didn’t know the menu, any of the Chinese characters on the menu, or what we were supposed to say. So I resourcefully said “I want the same” after the guy in front of us ordered. It turned out to be the first of many times I ate a delicious shoujuabing, but that day was to be my last. With a much greater degree of fluency, I ordered the works, something I’ve been too stingy (or maybe scared?) to try before. One crispy flour pancake wrapping around cheese, egg, lettuce, a variety of sauces, and not one but two pieces of bacon. It was to die for and the most fitting of last meals.
So we all grabbed our meals and a drink and sat outside the tables just outside the Red Umbrella convenience store, thusly named for the red umbrellas it puts out during the summer. I’ve yet to see these umbrellas and probably never will. We chatted, reminisced about our adventures in China and our plans for the summer. Then I said my goodbye. Many of my friends planned on staying for the summer in order to better solidify their Chinese, so they urged me to stay as well. Perhaps if I didn’t already have plans this summer, I would’ve obliged. But alas, I have Korea and an internship waiting for me in the States.
So is this goodbye? This may be copying a little too directly from Will Fienberg’s IES Beijing commencement ceremony speech, but whatever. Zaijian translates to “goodbye”, but more literally, it means “See you again”. In that sense, maybe I will see this country again: a place where explosive growth is happening, a place of extremely deep and profound culture, a place that boasts one of the most difficult languages to learn… A place I’ve once called home. I’ll see you again someday. As for my friends, I’ll see you guys again someday too. Till then, zaijian.
Location: Kimpo, South Korea
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