Now showing: Chinese on Ice!

Sometimes it takes mutual vunerability to realize just how similar we are. In this case, it is an ancient lake that had frozen over in the desert winter of northern China.

It was a beautiful Saturday. Ali, persuading me to refrain from curling up in a ball away from the sun, decided that we should go down to the lake, which was now frozen solid. The lake is the center of the old campus, which, once-upon-a-dynasty, belonged to a very lucky (or maybe not-so-lucky in the end) prince. The lake is surrounded by vibrantly colored buildings, pagodas, and bells, providing the scenery of Chinese dreams.

In America, most people would hesitate from leaping onto a frozen body of water, perhaps opting for a skating rink instead. But here in China, everyone—from babies to professors, was sliding around unsteadily across the slippery surface. As Ali and I gingerly made our way onto the ice, half-expecting it to collapse and send us feet-first into a watery abyss, a sort of childish wonder overtook us. Here we were—walking on water, amidst skaters, sledders, and dancers. It was a fair of sorts, in which earthly troubles lapsed in loo of fresh air and fun.

The world's most adorable child paddles his way across the lake.

Xigua tian bu tian?

We were soon drawn into a game of ice-ball, joining a few Beida students as they kicked a small chunk of ice back and forth. It was difficult, and we missed it frequently, sometimes wiping out in the process (Ali…cough cough), but we had a blast hopelessly inching towards the ball as it zoomed past us.

Hockey?

Super athletic.

I realized I was grinning widely: here we were—not Chinese students and American students, and not even students—but simply kids—playing a game on a carefree day. All shyness faded as I let my joy surface, no longer afraid to approach anyone. On this icy plane, we were all vunerable—there was no home team. For the first time since coming to China, I didn’t feel like an outsider who was expected to act a certain way and be treated such in return. I was just another person trying to have fun while not falling down. As we took turns tugging one another over the surface, we forgot about our identities—sometimes 

it's so good to just play.

Ignore my stupid laughing. 

From then on, I knew that China would never be boring. Around every corner is a hidden gem, waiting to be seized and shared. One only needs to take those few steps outside his door to see what is waiting just around the bend.