Burn

2AMERICAN ODYSSEY

In January 1991, when I first set foot on American soil, I thought I'd arrived on another planet. That's because, as I deplaned at Washington, DC's Dulles International Airport and shuffled through the terminal, I spotted signs directing travelers to two different queues: “United States Citizens” and “Aliens.” Even in my sleep‐deprived state, I knew what the word “alien” meant. An alien is a creature from another planet—a “little green man,” or one of the otherworldly critters I'd seen in Star Wars and other science fiction dramas I'd enjoyed while immersed in Western popular culture at China's version of Hogwarts. Now, as a young woman embarking on a new life in a new land, there were extraterrestrial beings waiting to receive me. Wow, I remember thinking to myself, you really can find absolutely anything in America.

As crowds of people from all over the globe swirled around me in the terminal, I considered the signs again. I wasn't a US citizen, so by process of elimination, I steered myself in the other direction. I picked up my suitcase, inhaled deeply, and prepared myself emotionally to meet the aliens. As I did so, I reflected on how harrowing the journey to America had been.

America Bound

When I resigned my post in Dalian in October 1989, the Chinese economy was in recession. Upon returning to Beijing, I began scouring job listings so I could make a living. In my spare time, I negotiated the intimidating Chinese bureaucracy, trying to secure a passport—an ...