Setteling

It’s been almost two months since we’ve landed in China, and I only now feel like things are beginning to settle. We’ve moved into our new apartment, and most of the boxes are unpacked. Though perhaps let’s not mention the balcony with her lingering piles of plastic IKEA bins stuffed with belongings sundry and essential that we don’t really need but nevertheless can’t quite part with. And perhaps we’ll skim over the my office whose floorboards are not quite visible under the stacks of things waiting to find a place. But I can see that this apartment will begin to feel like home. Eventually.

We're working towards making the city feel like home. We’ve found a favourite breakfast spot, the most delicious sourdough bread in the city, a place for the kids to ride their scooters, a park to play in, and the best fresh cut kale at a good price. Our residency paperwork is in order; we’ve made the rounds to find doctors and dentists; andschool is all sorted out. So the major things can be ticked off the list.

We now turn to the work of home making and community building. I’m making the rounds of coffee mornings and mum and baby groups (which, kill me PLEASE, but they’re necessary.) The trouble is, the kind of person I hope to meet, you know the interesting sort with a job or a passion, with ambition and creativity, who’s jumped head-first into life in China, experiencing real life, all the girt and dirt of it with gratitude and amazement, well, that sort of person is most likely out living life, and not really sipping coffee in a sad hotel ballroom lamenting life without a minivan and collecting members for knitting club. So. Yeah. It’s tough going. 

(I think I may need a bit of an attitude adjustment?) 

Still, this period really is par for the course. It takes time to build a community, and eventually I’ll click with someone. I keep doing the round of coffee mornings, telling stories about how my kid drops the f-bomb at inappropriate times (is there an appropriate time for swears when you’re two??) just waiting until someone finally sorts with laughter and counters with an equally self-incriminating story, and then I’ll know I’ve found my people.