Why am I back?

I wrote this post about 2 months ago. It may be a little old but it is a start.
I have to say it feels real good to be back in china. if you asked me this question about 2 weeks ago when i got off the plane you may have received a different answer. see, I have felt really confident and sure the last few months that I was ready to get away from the comforts I have grown up with and get back to a country that is still a mystery to me. However when I got off the plane and stood in the airport custom lines all that was going through my mind was “what in the world am i doing back here?”
Back to a place where the comfort of traveling to the store and back in your own car does not exist. In it’s place you get to travel by bus for 30 minutes to a hour one way. When you get at the store you can only buy so much because that same bus route you took to get to that store you will take again along with all the bags of groceries in your hand. along with that comes the possibility of having to stand and hold all the stuff you just bought. I will not lie to you, plastic can cut into your hands after holding it for so long.
Why am I back in a place where my bed is about the same as taking 20 pieces of plywood and stacking them on top of each other and putting a little fabric around them to keep the wood together? In this same bed my first night back here i was welcomed back by a tickling on my neck in the middle of the night from the antennas of a roach in bed with me. Look at your middle finger to get an idea of how big this roach was. R.I.P. my little friend.
Why did I come back to a place where you have to point at food you think you recognize on a picture menu just to get a plate of noodles, chicken feet, and a big chicken head looking right at you? or to walk down the street and get hit with a good smell of stinky tofu?
Why did i come back to a place where i have no idea half the time what i am doing because i have no idea what in the world anything says or what people are saying? I promise you, going to another country where you cannot communicate with people brings out the caveman in you. There is a whole lot of grunting, shaking your head, waving your hands around, and rejoicing with more grunting when they discover that you have been trying to tell them for 5 minutes that you wanted fried rice.
I can keep entertaining you with hundreds of “why in the world did i come back to this stories”, but none of these reasons matter one little bit to the one reason why i did come back. I love my neighbor.