Homeward Bound
And here we are. My luggage tucked into a corner of the lab until we go to the airport, my water bottle steadily being emptied before security: my final few hours in Beijing.

My entire lab went out to get lunch together yesterday at a delicious Muslim restaurant a short bike ride away from campus. As I sat down and looked around the table of fourteen, something in my stomach churned. I’ve spent the past two months learning from, relying on, laughing with, and getting to know these people, and in less than twenty-four hours they’ll be out of my lives for the foreseeable permanent future.

Lab lunch!

Among the interns, there’s a group chat in GroupMe in which we’ve all been communicating throughout our internships. Several interns have already returned home and have warned the rest of us about the unexpected struggle of reverse culture shock. Another intern from China, Wyatt, texted all of us, “How am I supposed to eat dinner without chopsticks now??” And to be quite honest, I’m not entirely sure how I’ll handle this potentially extremely challenging reverse culture shock.

This is a very low quality photo from the Park from my phone.

On Wednesday night, as my last “night out” in Beijing, I hopped on the subway to go to Olympic Park just to see the Bird’s Nest one more time and to walk around a bit before I called it a night. As soon as I got out of the subway station, I could hear a cacophony of people enjoying themselves all the way up and down the park. While I walked, I got to stop and watch jump roping groups perform a routine to upbeat workout music, listen to a group of three acoustic guitarists strum unfamiliar melodies, admire a group of elderly women doing a line dance and teaching the moves to young children who had gathered around, and simply exist among it all.

With thoughts of that group chat and my worries about returning home swirling around in my head, I was then asked at lunch yesterday how my experience in China was. My mind immediately went to that night at Olympic Park. I thought about how crowded it was on a random Wednesday night. I thought about those elderly women creating joy in their own lives and the lives of others. And I thought about how I, a complete stranger there, was able to just be in it, to just walk around with my headphones in and stop and watch and listen and just exist.

I then told my lab mates that my experience has been nothing short of crazy. I’ve learned so much since I’ve been here, and not just about agriculture or food or world hunger, though certainly I’ve learned a great deal about all of those things. Equally as important as those things, though, I’ve learned how to exist in completely new and unexpected ways. Before I left, I could hardly navigate around my own hometown without my phone giving me every little direction. Since I’ve been in Beijing, though, I can navigate the entirety of the subway system by myself with almost complete confidence. I’ve learned to try everything even just a single time because just eating food I could eat at home while I’m in China is an utter waste of money and, more importantly, experience. And I’ve learned that everybody has a story, and even if I have to work extra hard at hearing it, it’s almost always worth it.

While I didn’t say all of that to my lab mates, as most of them are Chinese and wouldn’t understand a majority of it and I didn’t want to waste their time, I did get my points across. And there are a few other points I’d like to emphasize here for whoever else will follow in Dr. Borlaug’s footsteps in the future.

Firstly, commit to the people around you. You will likely never have the opportunity to meet the people who surround you at your site again. They are smart, funny, helpful, patient, and caring people who only want to see you to succeed during your time in their presence. You will only get out of a relationship with them what you put into it, whether that be complete indifference and silence or your genuine personality and attention. These are the people you will spend the next two months with, whether you treat them as little more than objects or as friends, so you might as well put in the most you can to get the most out of your time working, learning, and living with them. In the end, you’ll be much happier looking around a big lunch table knowing that you can call these people your friends and not “associates” you were stuck around for two months.

This was taken at the Confucius Temple in Shandong Province. It was a very hot day to be taking a tour of such a site, but I kept in mind that I’m likely only going to visit it once in my life, so I should make the most of it.

Secondly, play along. This internship is entirely what you make of it. If you go to the Forbidden City and all you do is complain about the heat and the number of people and the lack of American food in the surrounding area, then you’ve set the tone for your internship as one of an inflexible, joyless, and pessimistic experience. Instead, take a moment to consider the fact that this former home of emperors has been open to the public for less than a hundred years and that you are lucky enough not only to see it, but to have a native Chinese speaker with you who can teach you about it. Fight through the exhaustion of long hikes on the Great Wall. Do your best to ignore the heat of a searing Saturday at the Summer Palace. Remember how lucky you are to be one of the very few and very lucky people who get to walk the paths you’re walking and get to eat the food you’re eating. Wherever in the world you end up, put 100% of yourself into being there completely.

Finally, and most importantly, say yes. This may seem very similar to my second point, but what makes it different and the most important is that it’s the easiest to do. There were many mundane week nights that I could have gone out for a run and then eaten dinner at the same noodle bar I always go to and then roll into bed at nine and just kill time, but instead chose to say yes to a night walk with my lab mates or yes to dessert with Ava or yes to my own idea of going to Olympic Park. You never know where that “yes” will take you, what it’ll allow you to see or experience. Saying yes to things here made my internship infinitely more exciting, fun, educational, and memorable. I got to see so much more of the city and of the people around me simply because I said yes to an offer. It’s scary, and you may be tired, but the potential payoff will be well worth the late night and tired feet.

If I hadn’t said “yes” to an offer to tag along to the Pearl Market, a market full of knock offs of very expensive brands, I would have missed out on the wild experience that is bargaining with the sellers here.

So, as I finish writing this, in my final hours here in the city, I can reflect, take a deep sigh of contentment, and confidently say I did just about the most that I could. I met the people, I saw the sights, I ate the food, I commit myself to everything, and I said yes. There were many times I was tired, sad, lonely, exhausted, and sick of being here, but those moments just made me even more grateful for the times that were so amazing here.

To future interns, I say this: take care of yourself, remember how lucky you are to be here, know that you deserve this experience, and do the absolute most.

By saying yes to going to a hutong in downtown Beijing, I had the bizarre experience of finding William Faulkner’s “The Sound and the Fury” in a coffee/tea shop on a side alley. It’s the same edition as the one I read with my AP Literature class last year. Small world!

One of the things I will remember well from and miss about China is the small little things about the culture that are hidden everywhere, such as these wish ribbons tied around trees in a nearby park.
['Holly Sims']
['Travel']