Sometimes I wake up, and for a second, I forget that I'm in Shanghai.
That I live in
China
.
The place where men on bikes come down the alleyway at 6am ringing bells to collect cardboard.
The place with notoriously uncomfortable beds.
The place where you can get McDonald's delivered to your door in eight minutes.
The place where a tiny bag of candy corn costs 7 USD.
The place of easy breezy public transportation and awesome happy hours (complimentary filet mignon sandwiches,
yes please!
).
Sometimes, I wonder,
what the heck am I doing here?
I have never before lived somewhere where, in all this newness and confusion and soul-searching and God-seeking, I am so thankful for the little things.
For the one bagel shop in the city.
For the person who points out that I dropped my metro card.
For the Chinese teacher who chats with me at lunch.
For all the places I get to visit with my best friend.
For the sunshine that isn't quite like California sunshine but still manages to make the day brighter.
Shanghai is a place of
gratefulness
.
Lately:
