Confessions of a girl with too many options.

As I am slowly setting up my new apartment and collecting the essentials for life; dish soap, shampoo, laundry detergent, food supplies etc, it has occurred to me that although I feel the same wave of comfort when I come home after a long day of work or out walking around town, it isn’t the same feeling of walking into my own house. I have noticed that when I am looking for groceries or supplies I am always comparing to the closest related article I can imagine in the US to evaluate whether the item is good enough.

Colored pencils, toothpaste, cooking seasonings, tape, clothing, you name it. And since I live the most western area of Shenzhen I am able to find everything I want, but today Jenna and I went down to Seaworld again to wander around, grab breakfast, and check out an imported foods store. We went to Starbucks first and as we were sitting there I saw more meigoren than I had ever seen in one area. There was one family who sat just outside the doors that caught my attention. The father walked up first carrying a little baby girl on his arm, just like my dad tells me he used to carry me, and with the other hand was holding the leash for his golden retriever. They happily walked up the courtyard and took a seat at the wooden outside tables, the dog circling three times before laying down and the little girl staring wide-eyed at whatever angle her father’s arm was turned. They looked so normal to me. The little girl’s two sisters ran up holding doughnuts from a place down the walk, and the mother followed pushing an empty stroller and distributing more doughnuts once they were all seated together. Coffee and chocolate milk were purchased and they all sat together enjoying their Sunday breakfast. From our table inside (where we were enjoying cheesecake and panini’s for breakfast) I could not have told you whether we were in the US or China from watching the scene outside.

My first thoughts were concern that these cute little blonde girls must feel so lonely and different here. I wondered if they get stared at when they are out walking to the store. I wondered if they can get the level of medical care they must have been used to. I wondered if they have to get friends and family to send adorable OshKosh B’gosh outfits so that they are just as cute as their cousins. I wondered if they made friends with other children or if they played mostly with each other. I wondered how they were able to find a golden retriever in China, and where they go to have their hair cut. In just a few seconds I judged that family to be living in a place that they were always trying to make more like home.

Then I caught myself. Why on earth would I assume that this family was anything but satisfied with their living arrangement? They have three children under the age of 5 who look happy and healthy, a dog who is well-behaved, enough money to sit together on a Sunday morning enjoying treats and from that I jump to the conclusion that something is missing from their lives.

I just wonder, when I see families and young children, what the tradeoff is when a permanent home in a new country is decided upon. When is the point that you stop feeling like you are substituting one thing for the item you are ideally hoping to have? Is this an inverted law of diminishing returns? As you learn more and discover more and add more to your daily  knowledge of the new surroundings the substitution becomes less and less pronounced until you reach a point where the secondary good or service is preferred to the original? Do those girls’ parent’s feel as though they are missing out on the customs and cultures they grew up with? Are they creating a pseudo culture within their home? Are foreigner families ever actually able to fully assimilate? Are they not only satisfied with their location, conditions, and amenities but enjoy them more than previous luxuries they have had? As I consider how long I am going to be here, and whether I could spend another year or two actually becoming a member of this neighborhood, I am not worried that I will miss my house, or friends, or things from home. I know those things are stable. Rather I am worried that I will always feel as though I am substituting instead of welcoming the differences.