One difference between American and Chinese youth is how widely read Americans are. My first year here, and I read more novels and literature than all the years I spend in China. There are reasons, of course, mostly because the Chinese textbook consists of stories assembled specifically for the purpse of education; they are not taken from classics (except for poems). My point is that I wish I could have read more Chinese literature. All the books I have only heard of, never perused.

I am compensating for this short-coming by taking a Modern Chinese Literature and Films class. Yes, all the novels I read are English translations. And yes, no matter how well done, they are simply not the same. But as I told my dad, this is better than not knowing at all. I just finished Family. I didn't think of how much the translation must have taken away from the original until I realized that I have shed approximately three and a half drops of tears through the whole book. I, who balled over Lurlene McDaniel, failed to lament over one of the most well-known tragedies in Chinese modern literature. Maybe one day, I will sit down to the true version, with a dictionary in one hand, and tissue in the other.

The little things in life can be hard to bear, and waking up in the middle of the night, my temper boils over. But in the light of the day, I realize that as everything else in life, this particular arrangement simply demands compromise and 忍. It's not so bad, it could be much much worse. I can only imagine if I weren't myself and have to live myself... the particularities of a single child can be deep rooted. It is true something is lost. Fortunately, I am beginning to accept the many things we must lose in exchange for the few things we gain.