Chapter 1: Arriving in a New Land

My initial experience in China was both exhilarating and daunting. After a long taxi ride with my recruiter, we stopped at a bustling restaurant near my new apartment. Towering buildings loomed above, while the streets below were surprisingly quiet. The atmosphere was a stark contrast to the lively restaurant we had entered.

In this third piece of my series on my overseas journey, I’ll recount the challenges I faced during my first week in China, including the temptation to turn back. There was an undeniable sense of emptiness as I found myself in an unfamiliar country, surrounded by strangers who, unbeknownst to me, would soon become dear friends.

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As I glanced at the table filled with skewers, steamed vegetables, and savory pork in a rich sauce, I realized I needed to adapt to the local dining customs quickly. Struggling with chopsticks, I eventually asked for a fork, eager to take my first bite.

Once I had eaten, my recruiter escorted me to my new apartment in an old complex connected to a shopping mall. A wave of fear and loneliness washed over me, especially when my director left me alone in the studio. For the first time, I was truly on my own. Peering through the silk curtains, I was captivated by the vibrant cityscape below, a stunning sight from my twentieth-floor window.

With a fortunate noon start time, I would soon feel the effects of jet lag, regretting that I hadn’t packed melatonin. But as I descended in the elevator the next morning, I knew I needed to find breakfast.

Walking outside, I felt a mix of vulnerability and anticipation. How would I communicate with anyone when I couldn’t even speak the language?

I reminded myself that this was merely a hurdle to overcome.

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The weather was unexpectedly cool for late April. I navigated through overflowing trash cans and cracked tiles, but when I pushed open the door, I was greeted by an incredible sight. I was taken aback by the sheer number of people on bicycles and the bustling food carts lining the streets.

To my surprise, I spotted a McDonald’s. Although I didn’t come to China for fast food, the familiarity provided some comfort amid the anxiety of being alone.

However, my excitement quickly turned to dread as I realized I had no idea how to place an order. When my turn came, I nervously spoke in English, only to be met with confusion from the cashier. Mortified, I realized I could have simply pointed at the menu. With a hint of frustration, the cashier nudged the menu closer to me, and I finally made my selection.

My breakfast arrived partially correct—an egg biscuit and coffee, which I wasn’t fond of. Time dragged on as I made my way to the mall, recalling my recruiter's instructions about the training school located three floors up.

Thankfully, no one was there to witness my struggle. After about thirty minutes of gathering my courage, I finally texted my director for directions. The warm welcome I received from the principal and fellow teachers was a relief.

In a classroom, my recruiter went over the orientation details, explaining the rules and what to expect culturally.

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Our working hours were outlined: weekdays from 2 p.m. to 9 p.m. and weekends from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. I couldn’t believe I would have to work weekends, and I wasn’t thrilled about not having my own class yet. However, I resolved to give it a try.

The orientation lasted several days, filled with information that felt overwhelming, especially while grappling with jet lag. I frequently called my family, often missing home and feeling the silence of my studio. I was not naturally extroverted and wanted to save money until my first paycheck.

I watched several demo classes, taking notes. This teaching style was unlike anything I had encountered before; it was energetic and engaging, almost theatrical. The idea of teaching young children left me feeling uncertain. Had I made the right choice in pausing my career to embark on this adventure? Would I actually learn and grow?

Everyone travels abroad for a reason. For me, it was about personal growth, learning the language, and experiencing the world. Yet, nothing could truly prepare me for this transition.

The hardest moments came when I began to dwell on home.

I reassured myself, “I’ll stick it out…” but doubts crept in. “No, I really won’t…” I decided to take it one day at a time, though even that felt like a challenge.

On the third day of orientation, I prepared for my demo class, the entry point to my teaching journey. If I performed well, I could potentially fill my class with students and earn a small bonus.

With my notes in hand, I fought against the negative thoughts that threatened to pull me back home. It was nearly nine in the evening when my recruiter walked in, fresh from a class, and informed me, “You’re up tomorrow.”

The realization hit me: tomorrow would be my first demo class.