An American panda

China Daily website is inviting foreigner readers to share your China Story! and here are some points that we hope will help contributors:

"I'm lonely," I told a friend, "so that's why I want to go to a place that has a billion people." That place, of course, was China, and my target city was Nanning, the capital of Guangxi, tucked between the more noteworthy provinces of Yunnan to its west, and Guangdong to the east, a stone's throw—on the map at least—from the Vietnamese border.

My comment, delivered in the spring of 2007, was made half in jest. But there was indeed a nugget of truth when it was uttered, for I was lonely and had been single for many years, since 1988 actually, when my wife died tragically from cancer. Back then I had just hit the ripe old age of 30, a single father with three small children.

The author poses with his wife in an undated photo. [Photo provided to chinadaily.com.cn]

Many years later, my parenting chores all but complete, I came to the sad realization that my life had become stagnant and repetitive. Though I was proud to have been working at Yale—Yale, no doubt one of the world's most prestigious universities—and though I was not displeased with my job, I had gotten to the point where it was no longer satisfying. My life was slowing ebbing from me in drips and drabs. I was running in place, each day exactly like the one before it, and the future—month after tedious month—foreshadowed the same.

Yes, 22 years at Yale was enough. I needed a change. So on the cusp of 50, spurred on by a broken engagement, and encouraged by my now adult children, I decided to follow a dream that had been percolating for months.

On and off I had been communicating with friends on the Internet. Friends I had never met. Friends from far away. Friends from China! In time an idea had been presented to me, a scheme so preposterous that I hardly gave it a thought when it was first voiced. But like many great ideas that do not immediately take hold, this one just needed time too. Gradually, what had originally seemed so unlikely soon began to make sense. Like a seed planted in the ground, it took root. When it sprouted toward the light of day, I welcomed it with open arms. What was this crazy notion? I could move to China and teach English!

"Move to China?" A friend asked, voice raised, eyes flashed open. "Is this a mid-life crisis?"

"No," I responded, shaking my head. "It's a mid-life opportunity."

And that it was. With my children's blessings, I quit my job, sold my house and moved to Nanning, China. Why Nanning? It could only be fate. My Internet friends from China just happened to reside in Nanning. They reached out to me. Like a puppy in a pet store, I was the lucky one chosen. So after getting all my affairs in order, I took wing and headed East.

I realized, once I resigned my position at Yale, that I was edging out on the proverbial limb. I was 49, certainly middle-aged. When I touched down in China I soon learned I wasn't like the other expatriates in town. I wasn't a recent college graduate looking to add some exotic experiences onto a résumé before settling into marital domesticity. And I wasn't a retiree who could pursue a new adventure, bankrolled by a hefty retirement nest egg. No, I was, again, somewhere in the middle, a man straddling diverse hilltops. Once I made that step—a huge step—there was likely no turning back. At my age, I'd doubtless secure another American job. If moving to China proved to me a mistake, it would be a mistake to haunt me for the rest of my days.

But mistake it was not to be!

I arrived in May, 2007. Latitudinally, Guangxi is located further south than I was accustomed to. Nanning's oppressive heat slapped me seconds after I arrived. In response, I wore shorts, sandals, and to protect my balding pate against the scorching sun, I took to wearing a bandanna. Adorned like a pirate, I stood out even amongst the expats that I met in time.

The Chinese spring term was nearing its end, so I had an entire summer to discover Nanning and secure a teaching job. But the job would come later. Better first to become acquainted with my surroundings. I was originally stationed in the center of the city. By Chinese standards Nanning is not large, but for this transplanted Connecticut boy, the hustle and bustle of the urban throng was intensive. The people! Only New York and Los Angeles had larger populations in the States. I scratched my head in awe. Nanning has more people than Chicago!

Left to my own devices during the day, I decided to learn about the city by taking local transit. Chao Yang Lu, my original address, is located in the heart of Nanning; one might say it dominates the city center where much of the shopping takes place. It's modern, well-populated, and countless buses, taxis and motorbikes verge in and out of traffic via these routes. These buses intrigued me. Yes, these crowded vehicles so popular with the Nanning denizens. What better way to learn about the locals? Sure, I could take a taxi, but that would require conversing with a driver. Yikes! I was not yet ready for that. Besides, a taxi required a destination. I had no destination; I was just exploring.

So, armed with my digital camera, I snapped a picture of my bus's route in case I needed to convey my whereabouts later, hopped aboard and rode that baby to wherever it was headed. When a place looked interesting, I stepped off, perused the area, and then crossed the street and took the same bus back the other way. Simple as that. I loved those early days in Nanning when everyday was an exploration and my knowledge, perceptions and insights grew in leaps and bounds.

I was fortunate to secure my first teaching assignment at the city's medical school. I taught English to adult professionals whose goals were to travel abroad. The class consisted of heart surgeons, lawyers, and college professors and they were all hoping to do what I was doing—live abroad! Imagine that. I suddenly realized how fortunate I was. I was special—the American from Yale with his trademark bandanna.

The feeling of being special, of being unique, was not lost on me. Other foreigners no doubt experienced the same sensations. It was common (and in my case quite welcomed!) to be eyed by inquisitive minds. Patrons routinely pointed me out in parks or along city streets. Countless strangers said "hello." That they could not follow up their greetings with other English words were unimportant. They spoke and were proud of speaking. This encouraged me. Those with greater vocabularies often asked if we could take a picture together. I always obliged.

Yes, China was indeed opening up, and learning to speak English was becoming a valued prerequisite for many a native. Besides just being "special", I was becoming important too. I felt like a panda in an American zoo. Back home, China's national symbol was often a zoo's most popular attraction. Now the situation was reversed. In Nanning I've become a walking, talking, American Panda. Not quite a Rock Star, but certainly a curiosity. And to be frank, I loved the attention! It sure beat the anonymity I was accustomed in Connecticut.

My job at the medical university lasted one year. The program was disbanded. But I made enough of an impression to be recommended for a job at the Guangxi International Business Vocational College, where I continue to teach to this day. Of course I would be remiss if I failed to mention the most important development that occurred for me in Nanning.

After more than 22 years of widowhood, I met, fell and love with and married a local woman, Chen Qiu Feng. With sweet disposition and innate kindness, she filled a void that had been empty for far too long. We've been together four years and I couldn't be happier.

When I first moved to China I arrived with the understanding that I would probably stay here half a decade. That would be enough. But things have changed. I'm rapidly approaching that 5 year mark, and I can honestly see myself staying here for the rest of my days. Sure I visit America to see family and friends, but China is my home now.

I had an odd sensation a few months back. I was recalling my first crop of students who began their college years when I commenced teaching. They've now graduated and moved on. Like me, they have careers. New lives. I associate our times together with pleasant memories of bygone days. I'm already reminiscing about China! Yes I have passed the threshold whereby I consider my stay temporary. I have put down roots in Nanning. This is my home. It would be too unsettling to leave now.

In my 4 plus years in China, I have a single regret. I've yet to have a visitor from America. No one has been willing to make the trip, but like an ever-optimistic tour guide I still hold out hope. A New Year will be upon us soon, so don't be afraid to grab that dragon by the tail. Chase your dream and come taste the magic which is Nanning, China.

The author is an American from Connecticut, and he has been living in Nanning since May, 2007. He currently works at the Guangxi International Business Vocational College.

The opinions expressed do not represent the views of the China Daily website.

[Please click here to read more My China stories. You are welcome to share your China stories with China Daily website readers. The authors will be paid 200 yuan ($30). Please send your story to mychinastory@chinadaily.com.cn.]