I was 21, fresh and in a new culture that I yearned to understand. As a teacher in a new land I anticipated change, I expected give and take and a cross-cultural understanding. Teaching was completely new to me and lets face it, what did this white Anglo-Saxon, blonde haired, blue eyed, just out of college, 20 something, female know about teaching in China? Nothing. First day, I was a strange girl in a strange land standing up in front of a class of eyes that looked at the floor and mouths that said nothing for 5 hours. I had completely tanked and talked so much that I felt exhausted. I also felt terrible that I had come all the way to a middle of nowhere village, Fuzhou China, to make a contribution and completely bombed. In the teachers meeting following the first day of class I looked at the faces of the other five individuals that had come from America and nobody said a word. Sitting in silence we all had the same home-sick face with a defeated expression.

It took every ounce of arrogance that I had to convince myself that I had what it took to go in for day two. It was in the first hour that me and forty Chinese students bonded through the game of Bingo. It was the first thing that I had ever taught in a classroom and I was thanking the powers that be that I had picked up the game in Wal-mart before I left for $3.98. It was a small accomplishment that felt like a huge achievement. Bingo has been conquered, now what? From there it opened up communication between me and my students. It was the first step of my journey to loving a culture that had looked so cold to me just the day before.

In my first week in Fuzhou, in addition to their studies, my students had learned American classics such as hangman, monopoly, poker, and I-spy. I had bonded with the individuals in front of me but not their culture or the land that I now lived in. I had a roach infested apartment during a bad flood season, periods without electricity, no air condition, no cell phone, and no vehicle. I walked miles every day and on one particular day I was in a bus during a nearing Typhoon. I discovered how truly poor it feels to be out of the eye of a main land that matters economically and how much money matters. This village is overlooked by most people for being such a broke land and the people would be seen as unkept by appearance driven individuals.

Fuzhou was the best-worst time I ever had. I walked around with a wonder glow, and I was ecstatic. The quality of my students classes were directly relevant to my happiness, and these people mattered to me. Out of a mutual obligation and commitment everyday we showed up to learn more about each other. They learned more about American universities, Live AID, and the democratic way of life. They taught me how to cook after classes. I could tell I was making a change and for the first time I was doing something on a grand scale that contributed to more than myself. It was in that week that me and forty individuals developed a mutual adoration. I shared snickers bars that I had brought from America and they showed me around. Fuzhou became this place that signified friendship. This place was familiar to me and reminded me of New York City. At first to outsiders its scary, unfamiliar, and sometimes quite cold. Upon spending time there you learn that there is a pedigree of people that are unique, loving, and unlike anywhere else.

Over time I got over all of the things that I didn't have in Fuzhou. In the beginning all I could think about is not having a hair dryer or indoor plumbing. As the days went on I saw my students forced to leave school every now and then to work so their family could have enough food. This was normal, expected, and simply the way of life. What outwardly appears to be a cold culture is both lovely and affectionate in a very non western way. Instead of hugging and smiling to show affection you do what needs to be done for one another. When one person struggles you do not speak of it but pick up the slack and provide. This is such a beautiful thing. It makes you think about all of the times that you say thank you. How many of those times do you just let your action thank someone? How much easier is it to hug a parent than to sacrifice some time for them?

A few days before my return to America I want hiking in the mountains with 15 of my students. The mountain was beautiful because everything that is consumed by the inhabitants come directly from the mountain. I drank teas from the herbs that grew and ate fish that swam in the water. The only transportation up or down is your own two feet and the only way across the water is to swim. The mountain and the way of life requires you to rely on your person to get where you need to go. There are so many of the unnecessary things in life that is omitted in Fuzhou China. In a place with little economic prosperity I found that there is much prosperity and a willingness to learn. In fact, much more prosperity than I often see with those that have everything, and have done nothing for it.

There is a rare appreciation that exists in Fuzhou which is unexplainable to anyone who has never experienced it. The best way to begin to understand the way of life there is to equate it to a loving grandmother that selflessly gives of everything that she has. People do not expect reciprocation for their efforts. The kindnesses that are exchanged between strangers are just as lovely as the kindnesses exchanged among friends. While in Fuzhou I realized that everything does not translate between cultures and I came to the certain conclusion that sometimes it just doesn't matter. There are some constants in life. People love, and respect, and are kind. I could be naive but I am convinced that across the world you can find a home just as friendly as your own if you are open to finding it. This is how me and these forty strangers became friends. It is my closest semblance of how people behave in an almost utopian society. Fuzhou is a paradise that few explore but it is a land wide open to exploration should you want to delve out of the familiar.