Dear China,

You’re so much better at goodbyes than I am but let’s try to get through this ok?

When we first met I was so intimidated by you. You were bigger than life, older than Moses, and more confusing than puberty.

But you were so welcoming.

I can’t say I felt at home right away because there was NOTHING about you that felt like home. I couldn’t even do the simplest, every day things like buy cucumbers, or watch TV, or say words.

But you were so patient.

Before we met I was pretty sure I had you pegged. In fact, I was kind of an expert where I came from. I read the books, watched the movies, saw you on the news. I came in cocky and if we’re being honest . . . I was pretty sure I could fix you.

I just made myself snort-laugh.

I was SO off about you. So were the books, and the movies, and wow . . . the news. To be fair they were all telling the truth but to try to sum you up is kind of like saying I know Mexico because I ate Taco Bell.

There was so much more.

Thank you, China. You have blasted every stereotype, filled up the pigeonhole, and proven me wrong over and over and over.

And over.

You were scenery to me back then. Not just your amazing architecture, your rich culture, your breathtaking landscapes, your mind-blowing urban sprawl, and your incredible, anicient landmarks . . . your people.

They were scenery too.

Until they spoke. And smiled. And laughed. And cried. And shared their wisdom. And showed me where to buy cucumbers. And taught me to say words. And loved on my children. And showed me what real Chinese food was.

They became my friends — some of them like family.

They taught me about you. Showed me things that you can’t learn in a book or glean from a 3 minute news story between sports and weather. I got to see you through their lenses. I got to feel their anguish when the earthquake hit. I got to feel their pride as they welcomed the world to the Olympic Games. But it wasn’t just you that they showed me.

I got to see me.

They graciously loaned me their lenses again to let me see myself from a different perspective. They showed me my culture, my history, my country, my traditions, my values, my faith, my politics, my people, my family, my friends, my bias, my bigotry, my arrogance and my pride from another angle.

And I’ll never be the same.

You have changed me China. Deeply. Profoundly. Beautifully. You have put things in me that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. You have challenged me in ways that have made me stronger. You have stretched me further than I ever imagined possible.

This has been so good. And so hard.

I still don’t get you. I don’t understand you. You confuse me more than ever. You frustrate me. Some days you make me downright angry. I don’t always agree with you and after all these years I STILL can’t say most of your words. In some strange way, I feel like I know less about you than the day we first met because through all of this I have gotten a glimpse of your vastness, your complexity, your diversity, your ugliness, and your beauty and it has proven that in a million lifetimes I could never grasp it all.

What I do know is, my life is better because of you.

And even though I have spent every second of my time with you as a total, bumbling foreigner, this is a feeling I’ve felt before — the last time I left home.

So let’s do this your way ok? “Goodbye” doesn’t cut it. “Farewell” sounds fancier but kind of feels like “good luck on that thing you’re doing . . . with the thing . . . and the stuff.” And “so long?” What does that even mean?

I like your way better because even if it never comes true it is so much closer to expressing what I am hoping with all of my heart.

再见。 Zai Jian.

“See you again.”