A week into China, and yes –it is hard.
I’m in Nanjing now, after five nights in Shanghai. I arrived here by accident. I meant to go to Nanchang. When you’re booking train tickets in a language you don’t read, “accident” becomes part of the itinerary. The small victory is that I at least booked my hotel in the same city I accidentally chose.
Progress.
Eating has become a visual exercise. I choose restaurants where the menu has photos. Lots of photos. Pointing has become my most fluent language. Occasionally there’s a moment of suspense –a pause after I point– where I wonder if I’ve ordered dinner or an organ.
So far, it’s mostly been dinner. Getting around the city feels less like navigation and more like controlled wandering. I get lost, then drop a pin on the Chinese map app, stare at it like it owes me answers, and follow the blinking blue dot back toward something familiar –usually my hotel, sometimes just dignity. The phone’s GPS is never on point too –that helps me get twice the steps required each day.
What surprises me most is the people. They look at me and assume I speak the language. Which makes sense –I look like I belong. And so I get stopped. On sidewalks. In train stations. In malls. People asking for directions, help, confirmation.
And every time, I fumble.
I smile, bow slightly, gesture helplessly, and try to explain –with hands, eyebrows, and apology– that I can’t help. The irony isn’t lost on me: I look like a local who is completely lost.
There’s something humbling about that.
In other countries, not knowing the language is expected. Here, it feels exposed. Like I’m failing an unspoken test. But it’s also strangely freeing. I’m not pretending anymore. I’m not performing competence. I’m learning to exist without fluency –linguistic or cultural.
This week has been slower. Messier. Less confident.
And yet, I’m still here.
Still boarding trains. Still finding meals. Still making it back to my hotel at night.
Still laughing at my mistakes instead of letting them shrink me. Maybe that’s the lesson of this place so far. I don’t need to arrive fully formed. I don’t need to sound like I belong to stay.
I just need to keep moving even if sometimes it s in the wrong direction.
Especially if it is.
