Diving into a New World

I swam competitively for about eight years. This meant that as long as it was swim season, basically every season except summer where I got to swim for fun, you could find me swimming endlessly in pools throughout the Capital Region. Of those numerous pools, the one that I put the most miles in was a gloomy 25 yard pool in the cavernous basement of the local state university. While most new pools have brilliant white and blue colored tiles that can give the exhausted middle-schooler just enough hope to get him or her through the next set of those tortuous 100 yard sprints, that pool was nothing but yellows and browns, with dim incandescent lights that would turn into small rainbows as your eyes got saturated by the chlorine water.

Arriving at the pool one day during the Christmas season, me and my teammates were suprised to see that the pool was even more ghastly than usual. The water had turned a soupy green that made it hard to see the bottom even at 5 feet. Our coach didn't mind though and sent us right in.

Now, it turned out that the reason the pool was the color of spinach was because the university turned the equipment off for the holiday break. Of course that meant they turned off the heat too so the water was a chilly 60 degrees. Not knowing this, I jumped feet first into the murky water. The second the tips of my toes touched its surface I knew it was a mistake but because of the law of gravity there was no going back. When my whole body plunged under the water I found myself in a strange world, struggling to breathe as my lungs rapidly contracted in reaction to the coldest water they've ever encountered. The first few days of living in a new country reminds me of that experience.

I arrived in Beijing hardly able to speak a word of Chinese though I was eager to practice and tried chatting with the driver of the 黑车 (unlicensed cab) that took me to my school. Upon arriving he proceeded to help me with my luggage, charge me 6 times the normal fare and then ask for a tip, which I gave him. At the time, I didn't know that the talkative guy who sped me to my destination, was basically getting away with murder while I smiled and said '谢谢' the whole time. Luckily though, the first person I ecountered on the mainland happened to be the worst one, and my experience got better from there, but I have had a hell of a ride.

The thing about going to a new country is that when you first arrive you have nothing. You may have clothes, a computer, a car if your rich enough, but without friends or family it's all fairly worthless. My family was on the other side of the world, literally. Slowly but surely though you meet new people, gain new friends and if your lucky enough fall in love.

Next... Is their such a thing as ex-pat guilt complex?