I’ve been back in Hangzhou for several days, but only now have I finally sat down to write a blog entry (I hope you have been enjoying the pictures, aka lazy blogging).
I must admit that I’m feeling a bit weird. After the rush of month-long travelling comes the quiet, mundane reality of daily life. To make matters worse, my daily life now consists of mostly nothing: I’m a lame duck ex-teacher waiting for his flight home in a week.
I should be making the most of my last days here, but instead I just feel mentally exhausted. What is wrong with me: is it the oppressive humidity? Is it the daunting task of clearing out all the junk I have accumulated in the past year? Did my last trip finally do me in for good?
Even Hangzhou seems much quieter than usual; its streets less crazy, its population less visible. My ex-employer’s campus is now an largely empty shell of its former self, devoid of the usual chaos that gives it life.
My life here is over. I have no more classes, students nor work of any kind. Almost all my friends have returned home, be it to their hometown or home country. I feel like a ghost, haunting a place I don’t belong in anymore.
Who would have thought life in a country as crazy and alive as China could go out with such a whimper? For once, among 1.3 billion people, I feel strangely alone.
Damn I feel weird.