Milk Tea in January

The foreign campus remains modern yet torn with bamboo scaffolding hugging the sides of the buildings. The updated European Street is consumed with richness. The European influence sets the tone of the white washed columns of German Square. The French Quarters' yellow and rust-colored angularity graces the student dorms. As I walk further in past these splendid structures, I find the newest of all; the Spanish housing. With reddish-brown thatched roofs and the inviting courtyard, the incoming freshmen feel warm and accepted. Exploring these yards and meters, I happen upon quaint shops carrying random items for any bargain hunter to acquire. Browsing through unique pieces of jewelry, while a clock statue of Statler and Waldorf catches my eye, I am keenly aware of the disarray of these un-categorized items. Much to the typical western thinker's dismay, I find myself wonderfully and utterly exhilarated by the miscellany and lack of conformity. My next venture is for comforting refreshment; the renowned bubble milk tea. Briskly striding to my frequented tea-beat, the crisp biting winter air reminds me of my chilled state. I step up to the window, in broken Chinese, and ask for a hot vanilla milk tea. The tea lady prepares my beverage as I anxiously await my comforting addiction. My stroll to inspire my eager young scholars is all the more pleasant despite the cold dank chill of this January day.

(This short story was inspired by a descriptive writing assignment given to my advanced students at school. It is my description of my favorite moments in China while I worked on the campus of SIAS International University in Xinzheng, Henan.)