Journal entry from December 2016
At times, it’s hard to believe that a full month has passed. I have learned so much through this remarkable change of life. I know that Shanghai is part futuristic metropolis, part remnant of the Old World. I know that the people are mostly warm, passionate, curious. I know that a handful are resentful and bitter at change and the influx of expats. Some are curious about my chocolate skin, wide nose, almond eyes, my long, black, faux-goddess locks. The hair gets stares for sure, the occasional thumbs up from lil’ ol’ lady shopkeepers. Some might instantly dismiss me because I am a dark-skinned black woman for one reason or another. Little do they know that I am so content with the very notion of being here, finding my place here, gladly embracing their culture. Little do they know that I gladly wake up daily to educate their own. Little do they know that I wake up to and run home to just that: home.
In a taxi bobbing and weaving through Shanghai morning rush hour, on the way to work as an English language arts teacher, hair of long black faux dreadlocks with deep-spiral curled ends, wearing a dark rose satin bomber jacket and Uniqlo black skinny jeans, listening to Solange with my twin flame waiting for me at home. This is how I ended 2016. Everything is a far cry from the overweight, ceaselessly unhappy, couch locked dreamer that I began the year as.