I spent last week in Minnesota because of work. It was in the middle of January. I was going to sit through fifteen hours each way only two weeks after returning to Shanghai. Jet lag was going to be hell. I would miss my family. And yet, given the chance to go I said yes.

When you spend your days in an environment where you understand everything around you, it’s easy to forget how nice that is.
 
So there I was, giggly to check in at the airport with an agent who understood English. I cherished the chance to rent a car with an agent who explained all the contract points and offered me a complimentary upgrade. I turned on the radio and pre-programmed my favorite stations on. I signed in at the hotel and when the internet didn’t work, figured out with the manager that the connection was bad and changed rooms. I asked for directions, recommendations even suggestions when I went shopping for a new coat. People were eager to assist and I was happy to take it all in.
 
I didn’t get any of the superficial niceness that Minnesotans are sometimes said to dish around. Thinking back, maybe it was that I was so thrilled to talk to anyone who would listen that my enthusiasm rubbed off on them too. I didn’t need to play charades to explain myself.

It was really, really nice.