It’s not the best job in the world, but it’s a job. It’s a job in an economy that is lacking. It’s a job that will allow me to finally settle down in one area for an extended period of time. To make new friends, fall in love with the world around me, and learn more about myself.

I got a job. I’ve been working there for just over a month and the responsibility is already overwhelming. My boss is excellent. A teamplayer of the highest caliber with all the professionalism, humility, and politeness one might expect from the Japanese. His ability to take my opinions into serious consideration despite the knowledge and experience gap that I have is astounding. I respect him.

I got a job. But funny things happen every day at work. Really ridiculous office hijinks that television comedies like The Office have parodied. I’ll blog about it sometimes, but I don’t know if you’ll enjoy it. Primarily it’s for my own enjoyment and rememberance. This is a transition.

I got a job. I left China behind 3 months ago, and as the time has passed so have I come to grips with that experience. The bitterness of those days has begun to fade, and although I will never admit to having had a good time in China, I will admit to missing the freedom and sense of adventure that I was afforded for a year. I will admit that I made some great friends and connections.

I got a job. When it comes down to it, from August 2010 to July 2011 I didn’t grow much professionally. I have felt, and still feel, that China did not push us to exceed expectations. Primarily because we lacked any set of expectations. Perhaps a stronger person than I could have succeeded at this task. Perhaps Ben Gutscher did that. Perhaps China just wasn’t my cup of tea. Wasn’t my bag. Didn’t suit my tastes. Felt too stagnant.

Live and learn. Make mistakes and grow. Struggle and fight. Go home, or go out. But do something. Always do something.

Occupy Wall Street. Participate in NoBankNovember. Develop a revolutionary MP3 player. Write a bucket list, burn the list, and write it again. Read a book. Learn an instrument. Invest in yourself. Love yourself. Love who you are. Find love and compassion outside of yourself. Love others. Smell the flowers. Do whatever makes you happy. Go and live. Stop and die. Your choice.

How many times have we heard the shrill voice of a Chinese child call out in glee (or sometime fear) “外国人!”

What started as five people from two different schools eventually narrowed to a group of three. I apologize to Ben for leaving him out of this post. Ben was great, and helped me so much during the year, but when it comes down to it we didn’t spend nearly the amount of time together that Josh, Marlie and I did.

Marlie and Josh were always up for a good time, whether it was a ridiculous walk to the Kaifeng coal-fire plant, a night of watching 10 year old Survivor episodes, sitting back and drinking beer while watching the 14 year old Superman cartoon, or just getting into some other ridiculous shenanigans.

I will miss you both incredibly much. I wish you the greatest success in your future endeavors and I hope that our paths cross again in the future. Take care, and good luck.

In my mind, there are no words to really describe Mr. Hou (pronounced ‘hoe). He has been my teaching assistant for the past year and has been a continuous source of interest. He generally arrives at my apartment unannounced, asks me to proofread a paper for a translation contest, asks me some abstract questions about philosophy, and then disappears for another month.

Mr. Hou has a good heart, and in his own way he’s managed to accomplish quite a lot for me. Although I often wish that he’d do things in a more ‘American’ way, I think I’m close enough to the end of this experience to reflect back and see that this is, in fact, just another problem I have with China.

Although I ended up teaching a lot more this semester outside of the university and I was unable to attend most of the games, I will always fondly remember the many hours spent on the field.

Many of the core group of players now thinks of Sunday frisbee as tradition. They told us last week that it had become unimaginable to sit inside and study on a nice Sunday afternoon. I will miss our little league.

Just outside of the South gate of Henan University there area  variety of small, family owned restaurants. The South gate restaurants have always been our main source of food, serving us many quick dishes of potatoes on rice, kung pao chicken (not for me), greenies and mushrooms, and many, many more. Josh and I are pictured above at one such restaurant known as ‘Troll Neighbor.’ We named Troll Neighbor such because directly next door there is a restaurant where a very large, loud, and rude Chinese man lives. We named him Trollman, and thus the restaurant next door became Troll Neighbor.

Troll Neighbor is full of spunk and always happening in a far out way. She and her husband are pictured below, along with Josh, Marlie, and myself.

Perhaps one of the most ironic things about China, is that despite its lack or interest in taking care of the environment in any way, shape, or form, there is clearly some good citizen in the city planning department that thought they should post signs about keeping the grass nice. These signs are all over the Kaifeng parks and all over the Henan University campus. They almost always result in some ridiculous Chinglish. Whenever I spot a new one it’s the highlight of my day!

Jabbas.

Following closely on the heels of ‘Students that care’ are my two reading classes. I taught these students both semesters and it was always a pleasure. Classes were never dull, and the students challenged me every bit as much as I challenged them. I feel like I learned a lot about literature as they learned.

I really appreciate these two classes.

This is an embroidered picture of Da Li Tang, given to me on behalf of my Ph.D. class today (how the hell do I get this home? It’s HUGE). This week I’ve received a notebook filled with beautiful messages from my reading class as well as a really genuine notebook filled with special pictures and memories from one of my best students. On my birthday, one of my better students gave me a book that was significant to her and expressed her feelings about the class. My point here isn’t that these students are giving me gifts… It’s that in some small way, I (and the other foreign teachers) have made a difference.

On Tuesday, Marlie and I took out to dinner a group of students who are particularly special to use. At the end, one of them broke down in tears and began apologizing for asking too many questions and for being a bad student. It seems, in many ways, that this year has been a spectacular success. I believe we’ve pushed many of our students to think and express themselves in ways that they have never thought possible. Although the change isn’t significant in terms of numbers, there are a lot of students now who are more ‘free’ (in terms of thought) than they’ve ever been before. This post is for the students who care. As the time winds down, I realize more and more that I will really, really miss them.