My First Apartment in China

The first city that I lived in was a small town by many standards. I walked everywhere. I walked from my campus to the city center, I toured the tourist attractions (many times), I found shopping streets, hidden restaurants and cafes, and because this was a small town in somewhat rural China, I was often stared at by the locals. It was such a small town, that my colleagues and I went to the grand opening of KFC. If you know anything about the spread of western restaurants in China, then you know that KFC is usually the first to show up as a city starts to grow. Then it’s usually McDonald’s and finally, if you’re really a thriving city, Starbucks. Based on how fast China grows, I’m sure if I were to return to that small town, it wouldn’t be recognizable. 

I have a few fairly vivid memories of my first apartment there. It had two bedrooms and one bathroom. The bedrooms were fairly large with at least a queen size bed, but it could have been a king. There was a desk and a small wardrobe to put my clothes in. The living room was smaller than western living rooms, but large enough to fit a couple of sofas. The kitchen was tiny. I think the only thing I ever made in that kitchen was coffee each morning. The bathroom was probably the most interesting part of the whole situation. It was mostly normal, except we had a strict daily schedule for hot water. We only had hot water for one hour each morning from 7 - 8 a.m. and then for another hour in the evenings, but I don’t remember the time. Needless to say, I had a pretty consistent shower routine.

My favorite part of that first apartment was the sunroom. I don’t think it was intended to be a sunroom. I think it’s just where most Chinese people would hang their laundry to dry. My first cultural taboo moment was turning that room into a sunroom for myself. It was mostly a small “porch” with windows that lined the whole wall looking out onto the courtyard below. The windows weren’t sealed very well, so it was always either hot or cold and very dusty. But I was not deterred. I moved by desk into the sunroom and that’s where I spent most of my time whenever I was home. It felt like an oasis to me. I enjoyed the natural light coming in through the windows and the ability to see and hear people outside. If I were to return to that apartment today, I’m sure it would just be an average, middle-of-the-road apartment; nothing fancy or worth writing home about. But in my mind's eye, there’s something special about that place. It was my first “home” in my new home abroad.