I'm 32 and have spent almost a decade living overseas. Now, I'm contemplating life in China versus moving back to the US.

During my high school years, I discovered my knack for picking up foreign languages.

My father had business dealings in China, and his closest friend was Chinese, creating an early association with the nation.

At age 15, I participated in a six-month full-immersion program sponsored by the US government, staying with a host family in China. This was the golden period of US-China relations in 2009.

At 19, I chose to major in Chinese language and economics at the University of Colorado, Boulder.

I spent a year at Peking University in Beijing for my junior year. After half a year, I began working as a translator.

During this time, I sat in on meetings with company leaders. One directed me in purchasing tea and arranging its shipment to Geneva.

Choosing the Tea Path

I opted to pause my studies temporarily and relocate to Guangzhou, known for having the largest tea market worldwide.

Back then, China was akin to the frontier land — nothing was clear-cut, and so much was open to negotiation. There was a sense of boundless possibility if you were bold.

In the market, I engaged in bargaining and deals. It was thrilling. I would spot a tea manufacturer's address on packages, visit the location, and converse with factory owners.

While waiting in a factory, someone introduced me to a tea expert at South China Agricultural University. He invited me to return after graduation to learn about tea under his guidance, promising I'd be the first American to graduate in tea studies.

He offered me a rare opportunity for distinction in a specialty. After consulting my parents, I decided to pursue a tea-focused career post my bachelor's degree.

In 2015, Wu Mountain Tea was born. Two years later, I began a master's in tea science, eventually earning a Ph.D., all from China.

What I'll Miss About China

I've developed deeper connections here. My closest friends and exercise companions are Chinese, as are my colleagues in the lab.

One friend is from Wushan, the Guangzhou area I reside in, meaning 'five mountains.' He’s my 'sixth mountain.'

Interactions with professors occur several times weekly here. Unlike in the US, these relationships are more personal, featuring joint dinners and real-time research discussions.

I'll definitely miss the rapid trains that connect major cities efficiently. Traveling is frequent for me.

The journey from Guangzhou to Shanghai spans about 1,500 kilometers (or 930 miles) and takes seven hours. It’s straightforward: simply scan my passport 20 minutes before departure, and I zip away at 250 kilometers per hour. In the US, such trips are far more complex.

I adore shrimp dumplings, known as xiajiao. At my college dining hall, I can enjoy roast duck for just 6 yuan (about 85 cents), surpassing any duck dish in New York’s Chinatown.

The Call to Return Home

A major difficulty here is being conspicuously different, as strangers often stare. It feels alienating, aggravating as it may be.

Where I’m from in New York, making eye contact like that incites confrontation. Here, maintaining composure when faced with such reactions is essential. A low-brimmed hat has been my companion outdoors for three years.

Despite this, I recognize my unique role. My YouTube channel, with over 50,000 followers, is dedicated to tea. While staying in China remains an option if my business thrives, I plan to head back to the US for now.

Hailing from Syracuse, the snowiest US city, I used to ski 120 days annually. Ski racing was second nature to me.

There's nothing resembling my snowy hometown in Guangzhou. For a decade, I've been absent from my most cherished environment. Aiming to move to Salt Lake City soon, I want to be nearer to mountains and family.