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Chinese haircuts scare me.

Chalk it up as one of those irrational fears that we all have. In my case it’s getting a haircut here. Not the possibility of another earthquake, not bird flu, a haircut.

I think it has to do with the fact that they make me take off my glasses so they can wash my hair. Suddenly my world becomes a blur and it’s sensory overload as my brain tries to figure out its surroundings. I can’t tell who’s talking to me, I forget what to say, and all I can sense is that everyone is so intensely curious about the foreigner who just walked in.

This time I got lucky. It so happened that two high school girls were waiting for a friend and one of them decided that she was gonna practice her English that day. Thanks Lucy, you really helped me out back there.

So it is, another haircut in the books. We’ll see what happens next time.

Paranoid much?

Last night I had a dream that I got home from China and nobody was excited to see me. I know, harsh right? The fact is that with each passing month I grow more and more curious about life back home.

Will I be able to visit before two years is up? What will that feel like?

What will it feel like after two years, when I know I’m home for good?

So many unknowns. I’m not even halfway through my service and I’m already thinking to myself “I’m not going to get any of their jokes.” Am I going to be some sad movie character who gets unfrozen in the future and has to spend forever figuring out how things work in this new crazy time?

I know it’s only two years, but nowadays that can be like a decade. Think about it.

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