A Return Stateside Brings An Elusive Sense of Home
I am writing this column from Maplewood, N.J., sitting at my aunt and uncle's kitchen table, right in the heart of the cozy little neighborhood we called home for eight years before moving to Beijing almost exactly one year ago. I am directly across the street from my house, which we still own but have rented out to tenants who are themselves expats, from Denmark. It is calming and reassuring to look out the window and view the house, which looks lovely. Yet I feel surprisingly dislocated, pining for China and my life there far more than I anticipated.
I have been in the U.S. for a month now and I want to get back. I've been trying to sort out just what I'm longing for. In part, it is my house and possessions, the things you see every day which ground you and remind you who you are, but it's much deeper than that. Last week, I wanted to jump up and hug a couple I surprisingly heard speaking Chinese in a state park in Bay City, Michigan.
This is my first summer living as an expat and I largely followed the lead of others. I actually moderated the "get the hell out of Dodge" approach many have, in large part because my wife Rebecca and I really don't like lengthy familial separations, which are common among expat families. We stayed three weeks after school finished and enjoying a less harried daily life before heading back together. Still, I decided to stay on in Maplewood for an extra week with my two sons after Rebecca returned to work. (I wisely thought better of flying home solo with all three of my kids and sent three-year-old Anna home with mom.) That pushes the visit close to five weeks, and it's too long. The result of this lengthy sojourn away from my daily life is a strangely disassociated feeling.
Everywhere I go, people ask me a variation of the same simple questions: "How's China? Is it weird to be back?" Depending on my mood and to whom I'm speaking, I answer the first question with anything from a muttered "great" to a lengthy disposition (all the while resisting the urge to simply ask, "Don't you read my damn column?"). The second question is a little tougher to answer honestly.
Upon arriving here last month, the strangest thing about being back was how not strange it felt. Within a day, it seemed like we had never left, like everything that happened in the last year was just a dream. But it's gotten more complicated as the weeks have rolled by and we have made pilgrimages to our most familiar, comforting places, including Beach Haven, N.J., Ann Arbor and Bay City, Mich., and my parents' house deep in the Pennsylvania woods. Returning to each and every one of these locales and the dear friends and family who populate them is a positive and grounding experience, but the cumulative effect of a month dragging kids and bags from place to place is something different. You start to feel lost in time and space. You're not quite on vacation but you're definitely not home either.
Our first morning in Maplewood, we took a family stroll into town to get breakfast. The tree-lined streets we formerly took for granted became objects of fascination and awe. We marveled at the chirping birds and scampering squirrels and oohed and aahed at the gentle breeze and the morning light filtering through the dense overhead foliage. All of these sights are common to leafy, suburban America in the summer but rare and wondrous in Beijing and its environs.
This was not our first trip back since moving. We also visited at Christmas time, just four months after moving. We wavered on returning home so soon, before my father's illness made the decision easy. Ultimately, it was a good decision, one that somehow helped clarify for all of us that we now lived in China; sometimes you have to leave and return for a place to truly feel like home.
But it was also a strain at times to stay so close to our house. The kids wanted to go inside, they wanted to see their rooms, and they didn't like the fact that other children were living there. We considered bringing them over to see and get it out of their system before deciding against it. Only I went in, to pick up some documents. It was nice to see and the house looked great, but it was not in any way a profound or moving experience.
This time, no one has asked to visit the house and it hasn't felt weird for a minute to be staying across the street. That seems like good news. The kids have had a great time visiting grandparents, aunts and uncles, friends and cousins and frolicking at some of their favorite spots, but they have never once wavered about returning. We were walking down the Jersey shore beach when we passed someone reading New York magazine's "Best Cheap Eats" issue. A large bowl of Asian food was featured on the cover, causing five-year-old Eli to turn to me and say, "I really miss Chinese food, dad." Boy, did I understand.
We've visited with friends and families, rejoiced in my father's good health and rather amazing recovery, seen doctors and dentists and filled bags at Target, Nordstrom's and Modell's Sports with hard-to-get-in-China items. We've dined on cheesesteaks, Jersey corn, tomatoes and pizza, Michigan pasties, banana splits and other only-in-America culinary delights. We've endured a scorching heat wave and reveled in the sweet late summer weather that followed as we visited beaches, parks, state fairs, amusement parks and water slides. And now we're ready to get back to dumplings and pollution, uniforms and compound walls. We're ready to get back to our lives. We're ready to go home.
近乡情怯
我是坐在叔叔家厨房的餐桌旁写这篇专栏文章的，他家所在的新泽西州枫林镇是个令人惬意的小地方，在一年前举家迁往北京之前，我们曾有八年时间将这里称做家乡。叔叔的家与我自己的房子隔街相望，但这所房子现在已被租了出去，房客是来自丹麦的异乡人。隔窗遥望那所可爱的房子本是件赏心悦目的事，但我却感到有些心烦意乱，竟油然而生一股对中国的思念之情。
我回到美国已有一个月了。我想回来。我一直想搞清楚我都思念美国些什么。当然，这里是我安身立命的地方，正是那些日常司空见惯的东西时时提醒著人们不要忘记根本。但事情远非这么简单。上周，当我在密歇根州Bay City的一个国家公园看到一对说中国话的情侣时，竟忍不住想跳上去拥抱他们。
这是我移居海外后的首个夏天，我这个夏天的过法与其他旅居国外的美国人大体相同。事实上我并没有像他们许多人那样“迫不及待”地要回国，这很大程度上是因为我和妻子白佩琪(Rebecca)不希望家人长时间分离，而这种现象在客居海外的家庭中是司空见惯的。因此孩子们放假之后我们又在中国住了三周，过了一段较为轻松的日子，然后才举家返回美国。不过，白佩琪返回中国工作后我和两个儿子还要在枫林镇多住一周。（由于不想一个人带著三个孩子返回中国，我明智地让三岁的安娜和她妈妈先走了。）我因此要在美国停留近五周，真是太长了。如此长时间脱离正常生活轨道的结果是我产生了奇怪的疏离感。
无论我走到哪里，人们总会变著花样问我同一个问题：“中国怎么样？回来的感受如何？”我对第一个问题作何回答取决于我当时的心情以及问问题的人──从简单咕哝一句“很好”，到详细解说一番，不一而足（这时我真忍不住要脱口问他：“见鬼！你难道没读我写的专栏吗？”）。老实说，第二个问题要难回答些。
上月刚回到美国时，感觉最奇怪的就是一点也没有远道还乡的感觉。整整一天，我们都觉得好像从没离开过美国，好像过去一年中发生的所有事情都不过是一场梦。但随著时间一周周过去，我们一次次去Beach Haven、Ann Arbor和Bay City等熟悉的地方故地重游，到宾夕法尼亚州乡间去看望我的父母，感受也变得复杂起来。拜访亲朋故旧是件令人愉悦的事，但与之相伴的拖家带口从一个地方到另一个地方就是另外一回事了。你开始有种时空错乱的感觉。你不大像是在度假，但你也肯定不是在家里。
回到枫林镇的第一个早晨，我们举家外出吃早饭。那些我们以往习以为常的林荫路现在在我们眼中都变成了迷人和可敬的地方。欢叫的小鸟、闲适的松鼠都令我们惊喜，和煦的微风以及从浓密树叶中透过来的晨光都让我们发出赞叹。这些全是美国城郊常见的夏季景象，但在北京却是很难一见的。
这并不是我们去中国后第一次回国。去年圣诞节我们就回来过一次，当时去中国仅仅四个月。我们一度对这么快就回国感到有些犹豫，但得到我父亲生病的消息后决心就容易下了。现在看来这是个正确决定，它帮助全家人弄明白了现在我们生活在中国。有时对一个地方的归属感是要离去再返回后才能获得的。
那次回来时，家门近在咫尺却不能进的感觉著实令我们不快。孩子们都想回去看看自己的房间，其他孩子住在那些房间里的事实让他们闷闷不乐。我们最终还是忍住没带孩子们回去。只有我去故宅取了一次文件。那房子看上去保养得还不错，但我此行的心情却无论如何算不上好。
这次返乡全家没一个人要去看房子。隔街遥望故宅的感觉也不再糟糕了。这似乎是件好事。虽然孩子们爷爷、奶奶、叔叔、婶婶、亲朋好友都见了个遍，但他们返回中国的念头却从未动摇过。当我们在新泽西的海岸漫步时，看到有人捧著冠以《最佳廉价小吃》之名的那期《纽约》杂志在读。杂志封面上一大碗亚洲美食赫然在目，这引得五岁的伊利跑来跟我说：“爸爸，我真的想吃中餐了。”孩子，我知道。
此次回国我们拜访了亲朋好友，见证了我父亲令人惊奇地恢复了健康，我们还去看了医生和牙医，并到Target、Nordstrom's和Modell's Sports等连锁店去大肆采购了一番难以在中国买到的东西。我们还饱餐了许多美国特有的美食。这次回国我们既遭受了难熬的热浪，也享受了夏末的美好天气，利用这段好时光我们游览了海滩、公园，见识了州庆典、游乐园和水上乐园。现在我们又准备回到充斥著饺子、污染、制服和高楼大厦的北京了。我们这是准备回到自己的正常生活中去。我们准备回家了。
Alan Paul
