JISHOU, HUNAN — Today marks the first anniversary of my arriving here, exhausted and bleary-eyed after a long trek from Hong Kong to the Chinese interior. I’ve been reflecting on the past year for several days now.
Before I get started on those reflections, I want to say that I don’t regret coming here at all. In many ways, my leap across the ocean is the best thing to have happened to me in several years. I am happier, more relaxed, less hefty, and more sure of myself than I was before. As I have said before, I am one lucky fellow.
Many Chinese who meet me for the first time are surprised that a man my age would decide to leave his children behind and live far from his hometown. They fear I am lonely and unhappy. It’s a cultural misapprehension, though, stemming from the difference in our cultures.
In China, people can retire at 50. They also tend to stay in one place, usually their hometown, for most of their lives. Children are expected either to live with their parents, or at least be a stone’s throw away from them. So, for Chinese unfamiliar with American customs, I should be living somewhere on Long Island with one of my kids, taking care (as many Chinese grandparents do) of the grandchildren, playing majiang or chess, and watching TV.
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