Lissette Lorenz

While visiting China, I found a lot of unexpected reminders of home. For example, I walked into a stationery shop in Taigu and found correction tape in the shape of a Miami Heat basketball team jersey, and a cafe I breakfasted at in Beijing was showing Miami Heat highlights. (According to the Taigu fellows, their male students love following the NBA. One of Veronica’s students claims to pray to Kobe Bryant because Kobe gives him the strength to be a good student.) Pitbull (“Mr. 305” after the Miami area code) played in shopping malls. I went to a salsa club in Beijing where nearly all of the dancers were Chinese, and I have never been spun and twirled so many times in my life after dancing with one (slightly drunk) older Chinese gentleman.

My favorite reminder of home occurred in Taigu. I got invited to attend a Shansi teacher meeting with the English department of Shanxi Agricultural University. I had no idea as I climbed the stairs with Amelea, joined the other Taigu fellows at the big round table, and looked over at the dozen or so English teachers, that I would be bonding over my hometown with a Taigu native.

First, the head of the English department had everyone break up into small groups and chat. I was originally paired with Veronica and several other English teachers. We talked about the differences between the students I taught at Obirin and the students at Shanxi Agricultural University, what American sororities and fraternities were like, and changes to the Chinese college entrance exam, among other things. Throughout our conversation, I could overhear snippets of another conversation coming from Charlotte’s group. “When I was in Miami…” I kept hearing. So naturally when the department chair suggested we switch groups, I shimmied on over to Charlotte’s group and sat next to the Chinese man who I had overheard earlier.

“Hi, I couldn’t help but hear earlier that you were in Miami. I’m Lissette. I’m a Shansi fellow in Tokyo, and I’m just visiting Taigu. I came over to talk to you because Miami is my hometown.”

The teacher’s English name was Jack, and it turns out that he had spent the last two years teaching Mandarin at Miami-Dade College, Kendall Campus. And the conversation just took off from there. I told him that my mother got her Associate’s degree from Miami-Dade College in the early ’90s. He told me he first fell in love with salsa music at the Dolphin Mall, where a free live band was playing. I know that mall well, and smiled fondly at the memories of the place, as well as the memories of all the family parties full of salsa dancing. We agreed that we liked old Cuban salsa best. He said his favorite food in Miami was the yuca root, and told me a funny story about buying raw yuca from Publix. (He shopped at Publix! There’s a Publix supermarket at the end of my street back home.) He loved yuca but didn’t know how to prepare it, so he asked his Dominican next-door neighbor to give him a hand. (I’m half Domican!) We talked about Calle Ocho in Little Havana, about South Beach, and about the best way to make patacones, or fried green plantains, which are my favorite.

After listening to Jack’s experiences in Miami, I couldn’t help but draw some parallels between his two years teaching there and my two years in Asia. It was as if we had traded places, and he had done a Shansi fellowship in my hometown just as I was leaving it to go on my own Shansi adventure abroad.

What a small world, I thought. I had traveled thousands of miles to get to this staff meeting in Taigu, and there I was, laughing about yuca and patacones with a teacher from rural China.

Home is always closer than you think.