Homecoming

In a humid Chinese factory bigger than 10 football fields, I looked out across the sea of black-haired heads bent studiously over the work bench. Fingers furiously sticking pieces of Nike ticks and bits of material onto a sneaker destined for faraway places. It was there I had an epiphany.


400 years ago, my ancestor(s) mustered up enough courage to sail away from home, seeking a land of gold, never to return. 400 years later, with only a Chinese name on my birth certificate and 6* Chinese characters as my worldly possession and claim to return to my ancestors' motherland, I arrived home. 


What a glorious feeling. What a strange feeling. I suppose the mix feelings is only natural if you have been away for four centuries.


* The 6 characters are one, two, three and my own name written in Chinese which translates roughly (and poetically humourous) as "think of the smiling flower when drinking soup".