I didn’t quite know what I was looking for when I flew to Mongolia for a term abroad. I just needed something different, far from the late-night libraries of my college town. Most different, I hoped, would be my rural homestay: two weeks in central Mongolia with a family of nomadic(游牧的) herders.

I was studying Mongolian at the time, but still, there was so much I couldn’t say or understand. As we walked in the snow behind the goats, my host mom would ask me if I was cold, then giggle (咯咯地笑) and copy a big shiver to make sure I understood. In the evenings, she showed me how to make dumplings with her fingers. My host siblings would talk with me, speaking too fast for me to understand, as we explored the rocks around our tent; I’d listen and nod.

This verbal(言语的) barrier was strangely freeing. In the crowded dining hall at home, meeting new people made me anxious. I’d stay quiet, measuring out my words, struggling for something to say that wouldn’t expose me as unfunny or boring. In Mongolia, I couldn’t perfect my words. I could only smile, and try out one of the phrases I’d mastered: “May I help?” “Where is the dog?” “Are you tired?” My host family laughed at my pronunciation, at the way I threw up my hands and eyebrows in a frequent gesture of confusion. But in their laughter, I felt safe, unembarrassed.

With my Mongolian family on the grassland, I found a feeling of ease I’d never felt before. We were so different, they and I, and not just in language. Their skin was hardened and darkened by sun; I’d been hidden under hats and sunscreen since birth. My host siblings(兄弟姐妹) grew up drawing water from frozen streams and jogging behind herds of sheep; I spent summers at tennis camp.

For me, these gaps made all the difference. Without shared social measures, I wasted no time wondering how I was measuring up. Only real things—kindness, helpfulness—mattered.

People often ask how I decide where to go, and I usually get hesitated with my response, as I don’t actually have an answer to that. For more than three years, I have been making movements with the universe, traveling from location to location at seemingly random intervals.

A friend of mine posted a Facebook status asking if anybody was interested in a job teaching English in China. So I jumped on a coming plane. Walking into my first class, I was bombed by 16 strange children who couldn’t understand a single word out of my mouth. When I walked out of my last class, six months later, I had made a personal connection with them. Some of my students could barely speak Chinese or English. But somehow, through determination and force, we connected.

Every class was not only a lesson in English, but in good fellowship, being a role model, being a parent, and being a friend. I became a father to some, an older brother to others. I was loved and adored, feared and hated. I had to learn discipline, and not only how to deal it out, but how to discipline and conduct myself as a role model. But in between the discipline, I had to make learning a fun experience. And they forgave me when I yelled or got upset. And when they threw temper or bruised their knee or missed their mommy, I forgave them, kissed their bruises better, and gave them a shoulder to cry on.

Teaching English in China is, by far, the most emotionally rewarding and fulfilling thing I’ve ever challenged myself to do. I have walked away from this job with a softened heart, knowing that I have made a difference in so many lives. I want that. I want my teachings to be reciprocal because they taught me how to unconditionally open my heart and how to be a more 1oving and patient person.

Island of Feelings

Once upon a time there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all the others, including Love.

One day it was announced to all of the feelings that the island was going to sink to the bottom of the ocean. So all the feelings prepared their boats to leave.

Love was the only one that stayed. She wanted to preserve the island paradise until the last possible moment.

When the island was almost totally under, Love decided it was time to leave.

She began looking for someone to ask for help. Just then Richness was passing by in a grand boat. Love asked, ''Richness, can I come with you on your boat? ''

Richness answered, ''I'm sorry, but there is a lot of silver and gold on my boat and there would be no room for you anywhere. ''

Then Love decided to ask Vanity for help who was passing by in a beautiful vessel. Love cried out, ''Vanity, help me please! '' ''I can't help you, '' Vanity said, ''You are all wet and will damage my beautiful boat. ''

Next, Love saw Sadness passing by. Love said, ''Sadness, please let me go with you. ''

Sadness answered, ''Love, I'm sorry, but, I just need to be alone now. ''

Then, Love saw Happiness. Love cried out, ''Happiness, please take me with you. '' But Happiness was so overjoyed that he didn't hear Love calling to him.

Love began to cry. Then, she heard a voice say, ''Come Love, I will take you with me. '' It was an elder. Love felt so blessed and overjoyed that she forgot to ask the elder his name. When they arrived on land the elder went on his way. Love realized how much she owed the elder.

Love then found Knowledge and asked, ''Who was it that helped me? '' ''It was Time.'' Knowledge answered. ''But why did Time help me when no one else would? '' Love asked.

Knowledge smiled and with deep wisdom and sincerity, answered, ''Because only Time is capable of understanding how great Love is. ''