Foreign in your own life

Can I just share that it continues to take my breath away for a second each time I see the China flag waving in the sky?

I'm not sure how long the feelings of "foreign" last. A couple months? A year? If we decided to stay here for typical length expat assignment (three years) would I always feel this way?
On the way to the train station I wanted to post an Instagram picture-- and even though I don't have wifi I created a post. We were crossing (one of) the huge bridges over the Yangtze and it was beautiful and horribly smoggy and so surreal to think I'm just here, a speck in the middle of this vast place. We, my entire little tribe, is in China. What the heck?!?

There is something cool about experiencing things for the first time in your life at the exact same moment your child is. There is no superiority, no "been there, done that," no mama knows best belief system when you are about to get on a high speed "bullet" train in the middle of central China with your kids for the first time (Not that this stops them from peppering you with questions!) You can also find the experience terrifying, but I like that I have done several things for the first time here with my babies in tow. I'm glad that the kids are living in the raw moment with all my first timer reactions and emotions. I don't think that happened ever in the United States.

Traveling 190 mph felt strangely familiar and surprisingly smooth. The entire experience of the train was really positive. Mr. song took us straight to the check in desk. The terminal was huge, clean, and cool. We are the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chips, and fruit I brought. Trains arrived with perfect timing.

We opted to do this trip first class because the trip was over 5 hours and Josh's ticket would be covered. Tucker was free but that left him technically seatless so he was passed off between the three of us.

Finally we saw a wealth of green fields of corn and grains, orchards, and terrace farming. Multiple crops were in one acre. Groups of roaming animals were seen. Passing through villages and large metropolises you could see some shocking living accommodations. After I spied laundry drying on the rocks of a riverbank, I was reminded that my drip dry clothes line system in my air conditioned Wuhan apartment was a first world problem and I just better shut up about it.

I so very much wish I could read Chinese. Whether it be a sign in the terminal or a billboard on the outer wall of a tiny village, I wonder what information I'm missing.

We've reached the terminal at Beijing West. A new life experience awaits and this life can not be mine. It still feels so foreign.