Ningbo Living

After what seemed to be more than 24 hours of traveling, I finally arrived in Ningbo.

To provide you a brief overview, Ningbo, in Mandarin, signifies serene waves. But with a population estimated at 5.6 M, there is nothing tranquil about this city. Ningbo, a coastal city located in the Zhejiang province, “is one of China's oldest cities, with a history dating back to 4800 BC. Ningbo was known as a trade city on the Silk Road at least two thousand years ago, and then as a major port in the Tang Dynasty; thereafter, the major ports for foreign trade in the Song Dynasty.” With the flux of foreigners here for business, I think it is safe to say that not much as change in this developing city.

I wish I could continue this post by describing how thrilling it was to finally arrive in Ningbo. But reaching Ningbo was far from the excitement that I get when seeing the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Instead, I could not have been more exhausted, confused, and overwhelmed. I had 6 days, from the time I ended my old job, to pack my bags, to say my good-byes, and fly to Ningbo. And now that I was finally here, I had less than 16 hours to unpack, to settle into my new apartment, and to begin my new job. I felt extremely ill and it was probably due to the fact that I was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. But I am convinced that it was only my body responding to its inability to adapt to China’s unbearable cold weather and poor heating system.

And since the bus stopped in front of the hotel, I barely had the time to rest before meeting my supervisor and colleagues. I had to find all the strength and will power within me to put a grin on my face and to give them a firm handshake, when I met them in the hotel lobby. Despite the warm welcome and the energetic management trainees’ reassuring words that everything would be okay, I was still uncomfortably cold.

My head was in the clouds, between Ningbo and New York, somewhere above the Pacific Ocean. My supervisor, who probably could not recognize me from the talkative and passionate individual that he interviewed a few months back, kept pointing to all the ordinary objects in sight, to ask whether or not I was taken back from the culture shock.

After giving me a tour of the apartment, my colleagues tried to put me at ease by repeating that I was not alone in China. They explained, that with the other management trainees, here, I would form a new family. I was not scared to be alone in China; I was rather baffled that there was not a proper heating system in my apartment. My supervisor tried to catch a glimpse at my facial expression to see how I was processing everything. And though he did not express it, he left the apartment convinced that I would board the next flight to return home. But my mother who traveled with me and who knows my perseverance knew that I had no intention of going back to New York with her. The look on her face, on the other hand, was that of an empathetic mother who wished she could have gone to work for me, the next day.

To conclude this segment, after borrowing a heater, buying a comforter, consuming some Japanese food, and drinking excessive amount of tea, I was warm and I felt like myself again. My day ended, after watching a Chinese television show, similar to American Idol, where one of the contestants, a black man, was rapping in Mandarin Chinese. My mother and I were hysterically laughing, because we were sure that this man, from his demeanor, was of Haitian origin. This was a perfect ending to the day, because after seeing this show, I was hopeful. Hopeful, I would also learn to speak Mandarin. And everything was going to be okay!!!