As those of you who know me personally may know, I was a bit apprehensive about this trip as it approached. After all, I basically left everyone I knew and moved across the world to work a job I’ve never done before. After a grueling thirteen-hour flight over the north pole; my layover in Beijing didn’t help at all. I have never liked that polluted city or its gargantuan airport; as we flew into it we passed over the sprawling desert to the west that threatens to envelop the city, and I couldn’t help thinking that I hope it does. Then, with no transition, I was dumped into a Chinese-language environment, and discovered that my skills had atrophied somewhat. Furthermore, I was tired and frustrated, and as soon as I got into the Air China domestic flights terminal, everyone was staring at me, too. (It might have been because I hadn’t showered in 24 hours or so, but I’m guessing it had more to do with my skin color).

Sitting on the Air China flight to Harbin, I was pacified somewhat by the site of the sun setting slowly over the Songhua river. Harbin itself is huge, but the surrounding countryside is remarkably pastoral, and strikingly beautiful even through the greasy window of an Air China 767.

After arriving in the city, I began to look for signs of home. I have lived here before, for a season last year, and I needed something–anything–that could tie this time to that one and thus reconnect me to what otherwise would seem a rather intimidating metropolis. Harbin is large, and very few of its inhabitants speak English. My Chinese skills give me a leg up on many of my co-workers, but I’m still not good enough to feel comfortable doing everything.

I finally found my sign this morning. After a frustrating initial experience with my apartment (which is nice, but has a leaky washing machine and a temperamental hot water heater), I was wandering the local area with a Chinese staff worker who was showing me around. As we walked down the street toward the RT Mart, a large Wal-Mart-esque market with most household items and a decent grocery store, I spotted a middle-aged man walking toward us wearing a t-shirt with gigantic English lettering, which read: “Rock my world, baby!”

OK. I know this place. I can handle this.