Month: July 2017

Week 4

If I had to use one word to describe my fourth week in Paris, it would be immersive. I met a Parisienne girl this year while studying abroad in Angers who has been in the city for the week visiting family. We have been able to spend a lot of time together and she has shown me her favorite parts of the city. The reason I used the word immersive earlier, though, is because she speaks only a little bit of broken english. Therefore, we communicate solely in French. This means that I have spent most days of the week completely immersed in the language and culture. While it has been hard, and I have had my fair share of frustrations, I have noticed that my oral skills have already improved a lot. What is great about speaking normally in French (as opposed to in a classroom setting), is that you are forced to think on your feet. If you are unable to formulate a response quickly enough, the conversation will simply fall apart. I have noticed that all of the attention I am giving my French has really benefited my skill level.

Here is a picture of my friend as we sat in her home’s incredible yard:

My classes at the Alliance Française have of course also continued to help my overall level of French. I have finally developed a good working relationship with my Professor and I feel comfortable asking any question that pops into my head, no matter how basic or easy the response may be. She is also very quick to critique my errors, which I truly apreciate (especially given that most people will not do that, as it is considered rude). Sadly, though, this is my last week with this Professor. Next week, I will continue on to a level C1 class (the second highest on the CEFRL). While I am really excited to finally be in C1 (it has been on my radar ever since August when I arrived in Angers at an A2 level), I will be sad to leave the Professor that I enjoy so much. However, given the reputation of my school as one of the best in France, I am sure it will be great.

 

 

Learning Through Immersion

For the last month I’ve had the amazing opportunity of studying in Hakodate, Japan and although it has been among the most challenging experiences I have ever had, it has been extremely rewarding. Getting off the plane in Narita, I was full of excitement despite just disembarking from a 8 hour plane ride, that is until I had my first conversation. Though I understood that my Japanese was far from good, I was shocked to find that I couldn’t even ask simple questions, like where is the luggage carousel. That being said, making it through customs on my own was pretty terrifying ,but to my luck, with the little Japanese I could use and the english speaking information guides, I was able to make it through.

Though those few days in Tokyo went relatively well, I was fully aware that unlike Tokyo, Hakodate would be a lot more difficult to navigate through due to its smaller english speaking presence. On top of that, I knew that if I had any hope of making any real relationships with my host family, I would need to improve my Japanese drastically. Unfortunately, my first encounter with my host family, although endearing, was extremely awkward. As much as I wanted to speak to them and get to know them, I simply couldn’t and instead resigned myself to being silent. Thankfully however, my host family had been extremely understanding and welcoming which led to me taking more chances with my speaking skills. Soon after, I found that being in such an immersive environment caused me to learn on the go, teaching me to use the context of the situation to figure out what was being said. As a result, after a month of constant conversation, with the help of new grammar and vocabulary from class, I feel as if I can actually hold meaningful conversations about myself and interesting topics such as the differences between Japan and America.

Though even now, I feel as if I’m far from fluency, I hope by the end of my time here, I will be able to hold more intellectually stimulating conversations.

 

Love for Japan (based on mere observations)

Growing up in China, I struggled with what attitude I should hold whenever Japan is mentioned. To many Chinese people, Japan is a constant reminder of humiliation and sorrow due to its encroachment on China’s land and lives in contemporary history. Today, it remains as an immense threat, a neighbor that is unfriendly, yet well-respected internationally. My dad is a fan of Japanese literature and takes an unconventional stance on Japan, and thus the contradictory and opposing comments on Japan confused yet mesmerized me.

I started taking Japanese my second year of college, with no definite purpose in mind. Part of it has to do with that confusion. Hearing about Japan would never render me a holistic picture of it, and even if nobody might ever know Japan fully, I hoped to discover it on my own

Thus learning the language serves the goal. I could only observe Japan from a distance if I have no background in Japanese, but with a proficiency in Japanese, I could not only get to know the English speakers I encounter on the trip, but also people from all different social economic backgrounds. As someone who believes that “the place nurtures its own people,” I could not wait to find out what Japanese are like, and how Japan shapes them into different people from, let’s say, Chinese people and Americans.

The moment I arrived in Japan, I fell in love with it. From just looking around, I could tell that this is a place characterized by order and neatness. All the service providers greeted me with sincere smiles, and used the polite expressions to show respect. The bus I took to the hotel was clean with dustless windows, and despite carrying a full car of people, it was absolutely quiet.

The more I get to see about Japan, the more appreciation I have for it. The first night my friends and I explored the city of Kanazawa, we spotted neither trash nor trash can on the street. Later, we learned that in order to realize the goal of optimizing recycling, in Japan, people either throw the trash at the categorized trash cans convenient stores, or keep it at their own home, and throw it out later, normally at the day that collects a specific kind of trash.

The self-discipline that Japanese people have simply impressed me. At least I experienced difficulties with this recycling system at first, and have naturally grown respect for those who fastidiously follow it. But trashing is not the only thing that demonstrates the self-discipline and attentiveness of Japanese people, there are more to name. Japan is somewhere where restaurants can be quiet enough for studying, where people can walk on the street at 2 am in the morning without fear of robbery or crimes, and where people dress nicely in shirts and dresses. Most importantly, this is a place where I never feel ashamed of my unsatisfying Japanese, because all people do is to praise my Japanese skills and encourage me to work harder. 

With all these observations, I have to say that Japan humbles me and makes me more aware of the strengths that others have. Often times, countries like USA and China pop up in my mind when I was asked to name countries of great national merits, but what exactly is national merit? At least in Japan, I constantly marvel at the neatness and order, and wish these are not characters exclusively found in Japan. 

(exploring Kanazawa with friends)

Adventures in Germany

I’m beginning my second week of classes and really falling in love with Bavaria. I can tell that even after only one week of class here at the CDC, my German skills are improving greatly. Speaking the language for several hours each day has helped me gain new vocabulary and given me an immense deal of practice.

Everyday I’m done with class at 1 o’clock, so I’ve been spending my afternoons exploring Munich and the surrounding areas. One highlight from the past week was visiting the town of Freising, which is about 30 minutes outside of Munich. I was able to tour the beautiful cathedral there, which sits on top of a hill overlooking the town. I’m really beginning to love the design styles present in the churches of Bavaria, which are much brighter and light filled than the gothic styles of most major European churches. I found out while reading a pamphlet in the Freising cathedral that Pope Benedict XVI was ordained a priest there in 1951 and taught at the local seminary for a number of years. The offices of the Munich archdiocese were attached to the cathedral, so I  was able to go inside and see the private chapel the pope formerly used when he was Joseph Ratzinger, the archbishop of Munich.

Last saturday, I took a bus to Nuremberg for the day. The city was beautiful and offered a nice change from the faster paced atmosphere in Munich. The city was an important center for the Nazi movement, so I was able to visit many sites relating to national socialism and World War II. I spent a significant amount of time at the Nazi Documentation Center, which focuses on the growth of the Nazi movement, with a particular emphasis on Nazi activities in Nuremberg. The museum is built into Congress Hall, a building intended to serve as a Nazi party legislative meeting place, but left unfinished by Hitler. In a symbolic gesture, a metal beam cuts through the building, displaying the death of National Socialism. I also visited the courtroom where the Nuremberg trials were conducted, which is actually still an active court room today. To bring my visit to these sites full circle, I visited Dachau concentration camp the next day. It’s an eerie place that just has a strange air about it. It’s hard to describe, but it’s almost as if the land itself remembers the atrocities committed there.

Celebrating Independence Day here in Munich was fairly uneventful. Since there are very few Americans at the CDC there were no big events going on. However, it was interesting to see reactions from other students when I told them it was our national holiday. Many students come from countries with no comparable level of nationalism to the United States, so some, while not surprised about the concept of a national holiday, and were surprised about people actually wanting to celebrate it. To have a bit of an American celebration, I went with Nathan O’Halloran, SJ, and Daniel Rashid to one of the local restaurants and we had a beer, toasting the good old U.S.A.

Bosnian Bridges

I was in Bosnia for the first time in 2015, and saw many of the same bridges then as I have this summer. But while I didn’t pay much attention to them them then, I have been struck this time by how critical bridges are to the history of the country. In the heart Sarajevo, in one of the most well-trafficked areas, lies the Third most famous bridge in Bosnia, the Latin Bridge. According to some accounts, it was on this bridge in 1914 that Archduke Ferdinand, his wife, and their unborn child were assassinated, setting in motion the First World War. In reality, this is an inaccurate account of events. They were actually shot about a block away near a bakery. But the myth persists, and for that reasons tour group after tour group spend the day walking over it.

Perhaps the second most famous bridge crosses the river Darina. As the subject of author Ivo Andrić’s Nobel Prize winning novel, this bridge attracts authors, tourists, and artists of every kind. If you have never had the opportunity to read ‘The Bridge on the Drina,’ I highly recommend it. I should warn you that it is not an easy read. The book is written from the perspective of the bridge, and thoroughly documents the long history of the region. It’s primary focus is on the atrocities that all who have ruled the region have committed, and it recounts these in an effort to enlighten the reader about the origins of mistrust that plague the 3 major ethnic groups to this day. It is a compelling piece of literature, but one that is heavy and difficult to read. I don’t recommend it for people under the age of 12.

The most famous bridge in Bosnia is found in Mostar, and it is simultaneously recognized as a symbol of war and peace. Originally ruled by the Ottoman Empire, the town has also fallen under the Rule of the Roman Empire and the Kingdom of Serbia. As of the early 1990’s its population was largely divided between Catholic Croats and Muslim Bosniaks, though violence committed there was also perpetrated by Serb forces. The topography of the region contributes to its beauty, but it also ensured that it was a site of intense fighting during the war. The city straddles a river, and is bordered on either side by large mountains. The two sides of the town are connected by a bridge originally constructed by the Ottomans., Popular myth holds that Bosniaks live on one side of the river while Catholic inhabit the other. While that is certainly not the case now, the town was ethnically divided during the war. At the height of the violence both Croat and Bosniak forces placed snipers on opposing hillsides so that they could shoot down into the valley at the other sides civilians. In 1993 Croat artillery forces destroyed the original bridge which had stood for over 400 years.

In 2004 the bridge was rebuilt. Though magnificent, its beauty is not what attracts many to the site. What is remarkable about the bridge today is the way that it was financed. In an effort to make amends for what the Croatian President referred to as “Croatia’s shame,” the government of Croatia partially financed the bridges construction. Other donors included the World Bank, the European Union, and Turkey. Today it is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and an embodiment of peace.

Land of Fire and Ice

Yesterday evening I arrived in Iceland.

I’d landed on Iceland a few times before over the years, stopping only for several hours at the Keflavík airport on my way to visit family in Sweden. I’d seen the landscape from my tiny airplane window, and I remember thinking of the place as dry, flat, and rocky– an ever-so-slightly greener kind of moonscape.

View on bus ride from the airport to Reykjavík, Iceland’s capital city whose name means “Bay of Smoke.”

I’ve also read a lot about Iceland. As a student of Medieval Literature, and of Northern European Medieval Literature more particularly, I’ve read many of what are known as the “Sagas of Icelanders.” These texts are largely concerned with the settlement period of Iceland until its conversion to Christianity, telling much about the lives, deaths, and culture of the early settlers. From these old stories I’ve gained a sense of how many places in Iceland received their names many centuries ago, and I’ve imagined what the places must have looked like when the great saga heroes like Grettir the Strong and Egill Skallagrímsson inhabited them.

Unfortunately, I have not yet read a contemporary novel in Icelandic (hopefully this language program will enable me to do so!). However, I still wanted to get a sense of Iceland through modern literature before departure. The week before I embarked, I took some time to read Jules Verne’s 19th century novel A Journey to the Center of the Earth. Verne’s narrator (Harry) describes a bleak and uninviting landscape which can be traversed only with some discomfort. The novel casts Iceland’s grand Snæfellsjökul-  a volcano I plan to visit later this month-  as the point of entry to the earth’s core.  [Fun fact: Another Icelandic volcano, named Hekla, was referred to as the “Gateway to Hell” by some medieval authors and early modern mapmakers.]  I wonder- what will my experience of Iceland’s volcanoes entail?

All this is simply to say that my literary experiences of Iceland, as well as my very limited actual experience of the place, did not prepare me for what I found upon arrival, especially the greenery and trees. My bus ride from Keflavík to Reykjavík revealed a landscape which, though generously sprinkled with rocks, also yielded fields of beautiful purple flowers. When I arrived in Reykjavík itself, I found that the joke I’d first heard a few years ago (Q: “How do you find your way when lost in an Icelandic forest?” A: “Stand up”) was simply not true of the city. Admittedly, to call Reykjavík a highly forested place would be misleading, but it is a charming place not only blessed with gorgeous views of grand mountains and broad expanses of water but with lovely green trees.  I knew Iceland would be a strikingly beautiful place, but I did not expect this particular kind of beauty.

Hólavallagarður Cemetery in Reykjavík, a short walk from my lodging.
Little Mermaid statue in Hljómskálagarður park, near City Hall.
Spectacular view from Skúlagata in Reykjavík.

As I’ve only today had the first Modern Icelandic class, I can’t say that my Icelandic is so far something worth writing home about.  But Iceland certainly is worth writing home about, and I’m not surprised that it is becoming one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. I am looking forward to spending the next month or so in this fascinating place and to learning its beautiful language.

View from the lovely house where I am staying with other students from the program.

Le Vignoble de Bordeaux, Le Château de Montaigne, et La Ville de Saint-Émilien

In every French class I’ve ever taken, no matter the professor or subject, we have discussed cultural stereotypes. My classes at Tours have been no exception. The professors here often contest the stereotypes that students hold about French culture, but there is one stereotype that invariably elicits a verbal sign of agreement (“ça, c’est vrai, ça”) from the professors: the notion that the French love their food, leur nourriture, in particular their bread, their cheese, and their wine. It is in this French spirit that I voyaged last weekend to the vineyards of Bordeaux to discover a different part of France, the famous home of arguably the best wine in the world.

The trip to the vineyards was in truth a happy accident. Some friends and I were first motivated to visit the Château of Michel de Montaigne, the estate of the sixteenth-century man-of-letters who was one of the progenitors of the Enlightenment. The best book on Montaigne, to my knowledge, has fittingly been written by a Frenchman, the political philosopher Pierre Manent. In “La Vie Sans Loi” (Life Without Law), Manent has gone farther than anyone in establishing the political significance of Montaigne’s thought. As students of political philosophy, we were therefore excited to discover the place where Montaigne had been born, worked, and died. It was a pleasant surprise to discover that the Château was located in the heart of France’s wine country and that Montaigne’s estate had contributed to establishing the region’s reputation in the first place.

Le Chateau de Montaigne (reconstructed in the 19th-century)

Upon arriving at the estate, I was pleased to discover that I could carry a conversation with the charming French girls working the register, only to discover just as quickly that my confidence was misplaced. I first paid for myself. One of my friends had lost his wallet, and I then asked if I could pay for him next. One of the girls said something to the effect of: “Oui, si vous-avez assez bien de monnaie?” I heard the phrase “de monnaie,” and must have smirked a little bit when I responded, “Oui,  j’ai de monnaie,” because the girl spoke English a few moments later to clarify that she was not asking if I had enough money to pay, but if I had exact change. She was worried that my poor comprehension had left the impresion that she was rudely asking if I could afford the second ticket. We all shared a laugh, as I became the one who was left embarassed and apologizing.

This episode illustrates well the difficulty of  transferring knowledge of a language from the classroom to life.  At some point I had learned this phrase in one class or another, but this knowledge escaped me when I encountered it in the world. And yet this painful lesson also illustrates the benefits of studying a language abroad, mistakes and all, as I can promise you that I will never forget the meaning of the phrase “de monnaie” as long as I live.

The ancient tower of the Château of Montaigne.

The château itself was impressive, even if less grand than I had imagined. After departing from the estate, we journeyed to the small town of Saint Émilien to have dinner and spend the night. When deciding upon Saint Émilien, we had no idea that it was one of the most renowned small wine towns in France. This second happy accident allowed us to sample wine in an underground wine cave and learn a little bit about the strict labeling procedure that accompanies all wines in Bordeaux. Only vineyards growing certain grapes of a certain quality are allowed to label their wines with the local branding. For example, not all wines made of grapes from St. Émilien can be labeled as a vintage of St. Émilien. If you are fortunate enough to drink a bottle with the St. Émilien label, you know you’re experiencing the real deal.

The young worker who explained this procedure to us himself represented an important cultural insight. One of my friends asked him what he studied, and he said simply, “le vin.” The production of wine is a serious field of study in France. I have since learned, thanks to a professor at the institute, that this study even has a proper name: L’œnologie. The first line of the French Wikipedia page informs us that “L’œnologie est la science qui a pour objet l’étude et la connaissance du vin,” or in other words, that it is the science of the study and knowledge of wine. It encompasses everything from how to grow the best grapes, to the best methods of fermentation, to the best food with which to serve a specific vintage. The extent to which this study is a competitive and highly esteemed profession has no analogue in the United States. For while I am certain that there are serious people in California studying the production of wine, I am equally certain that no one looks upon them as cultural heroes.

My Birthday in Bosnia

My first two weeks in Sarajevo, Bosnia have been nothing short of amazing. In addition to attending classing, and making a non-trivial amount of progress with the language, I have also had a few cultural experiences that have been deeply gratifying.

Last Thursday my fellow students and I were taken to a football match by one of the in-country American Councils staff members. She took us to see a local club— Željezničar— play a Montenegrin team. The club with the most point after two games advances to the league tournament. I don’t pretend to know all that much about European football, but the match was fun from the beginning. As hundreds of fans streamed into the stadium, they all started singing, banging chairs, and yelling at the opposing team’s players. During warmups we were seated behind the goal of the opposite team, and every time their goalie failed to stop a shot, or a player missed the net they would sarcastically applaud. The first half was largely uneventful, at least to my untrained eye. And because our team successfully kept the ball at the opposite end of the field for the vast majority of the half, I couldn’t really figure out what was happening. The second half, however, was electric. The first 10 minuets our team had at least three shots on goal. In the 12th minutes a corner kick was perfectly delivered and GOAL!!!! One of our strikers had headed it past an off-kilter goalie. The score was 1-0. But never once did the fans let up. There were at least three times in the second half when a thousand coaches from the stands thought that their players weren’t being aggressive enough. Inevitably, every single time they would yell, whistle, curse, and ultimately boo their own players. In minute 88 one of the Montenegrin players went over the back of our players while attempting to head a ball. Our player immediately crumpled, and was carted off the field after having a a bandage wrapped around his head. The fans spent a full two minutes whistling at the referees for not presenting the offender with a yellow card. The the final whistle drew the match to a close a joyous round of the team song rose up from the fans. As we streamed out of the stadium a guy took out his teeth and hoisted them in the air to celebrate. On Thursday, July 6th the team will head to Montenegro to play the final game regular season game, but with a win at home they are in a good position to make it to the playoffs. The following photos were taken by a friend, and show American Councils students at the match holding the flag of the local team:

On June 30th I turned twenty-nine in Sarajevo, Bosnia. It was one of the best birthdays I have ever had. I spent the first part of the day in classes, and the wonderful staff at American Councils brought me cake! In the afternoon a friend and I met for coffee, then took a taxi to the old Olympic bobsled and luge track in Trebević. We spent a good two hours walking down the abandoned track, looking at the graffiti painted on it. The following photos were taken by me as we walked:

Touching Down in Beijing

First Experiences… (6.14.2017)

     As thoughts of excitement, apprehension, and awe fought for attention in my head, I found it very difficult to sleep on the plane ride to Beijing. When I finally landed, I felt disoriented as I made my way through customs hoping no one would try to engage me in conversation so that I could focus on making sense of my surroundings. After I exited customs I was immediately greeted by one of my best friends, who happens to be a local Beijinger. For my first two days in Beijing her family took care of me until it was time to head to Beijing University.

Having a Beijinger take you around makes for a whole different experience. Rather than following a typical tour group, I was introduced to my friend’s childhood as she exposed me to some of Beijing’shidden jems. One of my first insights into the beautiful culture of Beijing came with a visit to Taoranting park — a locally famous park. Taoranting, known as Joyful park, is an urban garden spanning roughly 146 acres. With garden design extending back as far as 3,000 years ago three prominent garden types emerged: palace gardens, temple gardens, and scholar gardens.

Built during the Qing Dynasty this park is named after its Taoran pavilion, and was a popular destination for scholars to compose different works, relax, and admire nature. Since construction, Taoranting has been maintained as a tourist site of historical significance and beauty. According to my friend, we went on a less crowded day. I, on the other hand, still observed quite a few people; moreover, I noticed that everyone there was either upbeat and full of energy or at peace. The park is literally meant for everyone from children to grandparents. We passed several different groups of dancers who would welcome anyone to join. Additionally, I saw individuals practicing tai chi, exercising, or reciting poetry. When we ascended a little mountain, we stumbled upon elderly individuals singing and playing instruments. Although everyone was following their own melody I enjoyed the dissonant chorus of music.

     We subsequently rented a small boat to go around the grand lake. As we went around a few people smiled at us and spoke to us from the shore. The entire experience was a wonderful and memorable insight into one of China’s many microcosm communities.

I also had the pleasure of meeting some of my friend’s family members. Their hospitality overwhelmed me as her family members all greeted me at the door and set down a tableful of various dishes. Her amiable grandfather, who I learned is an extremely free spirit, even took the initiative to buy me a subway card before I had arrived. Coming from a small family I have always been curious to experience a big family gathering. Although the language barrier hindered my ability to communicate, once my Chinese improves I intend to return later to thank them all properly.

Looking back, I could not have had a better start to my journey here in Beijing. If my auspicious beginning is any indication of the two months to come, I cannot wait to begin learning, witnessing, and experiencing life in Beijing.

 

Temple of Heaven (and Other Adventures)

My first week in Beijing was a whirlwind, to say the least! Between adapting to the challenging class load, figuring out how to order the food I wanted in the Peking University cafeterias (and figuring out what the food was in the first place!), and supplementing my still-developing Chinese language skills with a plethora of hand motions and head nods, I felt exhausted by the time the weekend rolled around. However, every Saturday the Notre Dame in Beijing program directors and professors plan an excursion for us – and I was not about to miss out on my first opportunity to explore this city!

China has an extraordinary, storied history that spans more than five thousand years. While people first settled in what is now Beijing nearly half a million years ago, it wasn’t until 1279 A.D. that it was first made China’s capital by Mongolian invaders. After turbulence in China and the eventual rise of the Ming Dynasty, Beijing became China’s permanent capital city in 1421 – it was at that time that the city’s grid system and many landmarks were created. Since then, the city has seen many major events – including the Boxer Rebellion, Mao Zedong’s revolution, and recently, an incredible modernization, population, and catapult to the world stage aided by the Beijing Olympics in 2008.

We got to learn more about some of this history by visiting the Beijing Capital Museum,  北京首都博物馆 (beijing shoudu bowuguan). The museum has extensive exhibits of porcelain ware, paintings, jade, bronze vessels, seals, needleworks, Buddhist statues, calligraphy, and coins from different times in China’s history – some pieces date as far back as the New Stone Age! My favorite part of the museum was the Exhibition on History. In the huge exhibit hall, the wall was lined with a timeline of major world events dating back hundreds of years (i.e. Hundred Years’ War, French Revolution, etc.), and the center of the hall across from the corresponding timeline dates were diagrams, pictures, and relics detailing life in China during that time. So, for example, I saw some traditional clothing and house wares, as well as read about what was happening in Chinese culture and economy, at the time when the American Revolutionary War was happening half a world away. It was a fantastic introduction to the history and beauty of China.

Notre Dame in Beijing program at the Beijing Capital Museum

After leaving the museum, we took the subway to 天坛 (tiantan) – The Temple of Heaven. It is one of the few surviving ancient temples in the Beijing area, originally constructed in 1420 during the Ming dynasty and maintained very well ever since. The area consists not only of the iconic Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests and surrounding temples originally used for sacrifice and prayer, but also beautifully landscaped paths and gardens. The various temples, altars, and other architecture symbolize the relationship between heaven and the people on earth, and are masterpieces of ancient Chinese culture. It was fantastic to visit this beautiful, historic oasis in the middle of the huge, bustling city.

Temple of Heaven park

In addition to these trips, I learned a couple of other things this weekend – most notably, I had my first taste of 讨价还价 (taojiahuanjia) – bargaining at Chinese markets! I’m still a little put off by the aggressive shopkeepers and back-and-forth haggling process, but with a little more practice, I’ll be ready to get some of the cool and (very realistic) knock-off items offered at the various markets in Beijing! I also learned how to maneuver through Beijing’s extensive subway system – it is surprisingly clean, cool, and easy for an English speaker to navigate.

The Chinese have a saying that essentially means “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”: 入乡随俗 (ruxiangsuisu). This will be my motto as I continue to experience this new culture and make it my second home.

再见，朋友！