When I lived in China I wrote home a lot-- over 50 letters in 2 years. Most of them were several pages--some many pages--in length. Almost no one had access to the internet then; e-mail was generally unheard-of. I wrote with black ink. I used a gold-nibbed Parker fountian pen that I treasured. I wrote in a very small hand to conserve paper, and I wrote on this white, tissue-thin Chinese stationery printed with red lines that never lost its exotic appeal to me. Below are a few snippets arranged according to the length of my sojourn at the time of writing.
 

Just Arrived The Dorm        There are a variety of nationalities on our floor. Japanese, Russians, French, Australians, Americans... It seems no matter what happens the French get blamed for it. The Bus        The bus into town was completely crammed. We had to push our way on. At one stop there was just no more room. There was humanity packed up to the doors. The driver just stopped, opened the doors, closed them and drove off. Everyone on the bus laughed. Two Months Mid-Autumn Festival        Families get together, look at the full, round moon (a symbol of wholeness, unity) and eat moon cakes... I understand they have been used in the past to play a sort of hockey in the hallway here. Rules        As for climbing the gate and into our window, that is...a necessity for the occasional night out. The night bell [doesn't work] and the door and gate keepers wouldn't get up if we set off dynamite, anyway. Three Months Being Foreign        It is difficult to take being snickered at by a group of teenagers, or a sales clerk, with dignity and grace. It is hard to know that you are probably thought of as ignorant by a peasant whose world view doesn't extend more than a few miles from his home, and whose education goes through the 8th grade if he's lucky...I tell you this, I'll never in my life disdain or make fun of a foreigner who is struggling to communicate or assimilate. I have a new affection for the foreigner who talks funny. I might still think it's funny, but my heart is changed. Mark Twain said, "Travel is the worst enemy of prejudice." Mao's Tomb        We...entered the bier room. His sarcophagus is made of panes of clear crystal. You enter from His feet, so the first thing you see on the raised platform are His nostrils...I'm not sure about the embalming process, but he would fit in fine in any wax museum. The whole thing was hasty, tense, and sort of embarrassing. There is little [true] reverence involved anymore, that's for sure. Out back there are dozens of vendor stalls selling all manner of junk and trinkets. Six Months Property Rights        [Village of Yangshuo, Guangxi Province] I don't know if you've heard of the "Hard Rock Cafe" chain but there are no less than two of them (complete with stolen logo) here in Yangshuo, and we saw another one in a village on the way here...When we ran across the second one I said, "There are two of them here." A man on the porch said in broken English, "Not two, this the original." There are also two "Holiday Inns" in town. I think they would be none too pleased if they saw what was being presented under their name. Ten Months Culture Shock        I had to battle a week or so of anger and depression aimed at the culture in general. I just felt so hostile and aggressive, especially when I was out and about in the city...I was thinking to myself, "Nobody better touch me or say a word to me, I'll give 'em oral surgery right here."         Such torturously long semesters! We're just not used to the prolonged punishment and we're feeling burned out or dried out or freezer burned or something. Eleven Months A Fellow Traveler        There were parts of Eastern Xinjiang that looked exactly like Mariner II photos of Mars...Sitting out under the grape arbors at the hotel in Turpan, one spaced-out young fellow American sitting nearby commented,  "Wow...this is Mars...this is Venus..." etc. I just thought he had had a little too much of the "big hemp" (Chinese term) that they had been passing around, but I later realized that he must have just come in on the train. One Year        It's as if we have been climbing a hill for a year and we went "over the hump" that afternoon. 1 Yr. 1 Mo. Chinese Students        The students had military training for the first three weeks of school...I watched a platoon, mostly of girls. They would march toward their drill instructor with stern looks on their faces, then about-face and march the other way wearing smirks. When they would mark time, some of the students in the interior and rear of the formation would just stand in place and swing their arms properly. A Banquet        There was much toasting (the vice-president sat at our table)...the French students sang a French song, the Australians sang "Waltzing Matilda" and a drinking song, the Dutch students sang something, I played the sax, our teacher played...a kind of Chinese fiddle, there were a number of Chinese pop songs with tape accompaniment, poetry in French, Italian, English and Spanish, and then the two sweet, middle-aged Russian teachers timidly got up and sang a Russian song...There was wild applause. 1 Yr. 3 Mos. Our Apartment        After ten maintenance visits by a team of no fewer than two at a time (you just have to live here to believe it) our heaters are going now. 1 Yr. 6 Mos. Fireworks        It's the eve of the lunar new year...continuous fireworks. ...bought one hundred thousand firecrackers and strung them together up and down along in front of our building. He lit the string at both ends and they blasted away for ten minutes. ...Basically an eighth-stick of dynamite. They hang up whole strings of them and light them. 1 Yr. 7 Mos. Adjustment        Before I came to "Second Foreign" I couldn't even say "hui shuo zhongwen de yang guizi" ("foreign devil who speaks Chinese"), now I are one.         Life is easier then ever here. 1 Yr. 8 Mos. McDonald's        On opening day I stopped in for a Big Mac and a Coke. Absolute pandemonium on both sides of the counter! There was a manger with a bullhorn in front of the counter yelling things back to the workers, who were reaching over and under one another and running into each another. There are twenty-nine cash registers, and each one had two attendants behind to take your order, and one in front to welcome you. The place was thronging with people just going in one door, looking around to see what it was all about, and going out the other...You couldn't hear yourself think, so I yelled at the top of my voice, "I'LL HAVE A BIG MAC." The attendant froze and just stared at me. I guess she was nervous. I repeated myself. She just stared at me, terror-stricken. Her fellow attendant yelled in her ear, "BIG MAC, BIG MAC," and pushed the appropriate button. The same thing happened when I asked for a large Coke. Poor girl. Catatonia McDonaldus. The second floor was not so crowded and I saw half the foreigners I know in Beijing up there...There was also a Chinese Ronald McDonald running around harassing people...the food was exactly to specification...hilarious and nauseating at the same time. You can't see the golden arches from Tian'anmen Square, but...within a darn close distance. 1 Yr. 9 Mos. Going Home        Freeways, supermarkets, houses and lawns, .7 automobiles per capita--it all seems like a vague dream from where we are, even after only two years.         ...we are quite satisfied with the level we have reached...regrets right before leaving e.g. "I wish we had gotten to know so-and-so better; I wish we had learned about..." 1 Yr. 10 Mos.        We're feeling better about coming home the closer it gets.