Zak Dychtwald

The opening ceremony expressed a Chinese ideal, the blurring of the individual within the whole. Such displays rarely have a protagonist or a hero. Rather, the beauty is in the harmony of all the actors; the hero is the balance of the whole. “This is our new country,” China was telling the world, “a balanced and unified nation striding in lockstep toward its future.”

I downloaded Anki, a spaced repetition system of flashcards,* then Pleco, an invaluable phone app that I still use daily, and got to work making flashcards of complete sentences

That was enough. The shop owner rushed from behind the counter and shooed Jonathan out of his store, slamming the door behind him. The shop owner’s reaction was understandable. Instead of asking for a face mask, Jonathan had just asked for a specific sexual favor

China’s is a culture of treated meals, of buying things for other people, and of having things bought for you. The buying is an expression of familiarity and affection.

“Among friends, there is no need for thank you,” Huan Huan would reprimand me as he paid for our roadside barbecue and beers. “You thank strangers for kindnesses; they are expected of friends

the silent language of the give and take of relationships in China

importance of sibling-like relationships to a generation of only children

Unlike China’s current materialistic life of addition—new phones, new cars, new houses—Buddhism is about the process of subtraction

As a country that commemorates its Century of Humiliation—the period between the First Opium War and the end of Japanese occupation (1839–1949)—and its time being referred to as “The Sick Man of Asia,” China likes to remind itself of its doubters

Sichuaneses’ webs of association are created in their stomachs