Michelle Tsai

We were in unfamiliar territory, and yet we were home. When I was a child, my family moved to the US from Taiwan; we arrived with suitcases and a few phone numbers, and settled down as best as we could. We moved from the East to the West, but I bet new expats in Beijing won’t have much trouble identifying with our experience.

The move was a planned one, so we had expected certain things to be quite different. Like the language. For months before the move, my parents, sister, brother and I had attended classes as a family, shouting out sentences in unison, trying to master the melodic tones of this foreign tongue. As for food, my parents were positive that what passed for cuisine in this new place couldn’t possibly match the tastes of home. Fruits and vegetables wouldn’t be as fresh; fish and meat would come in unrecognizable packages.

But so much else was also different, and the list of changes we never anticipated ballooned.

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