China, Part Three: The China I Had Not Imagined

A Journey Through China in Three Parts

At the end of August 2026, I departed for China, beginning a journey that would challenge many of my assumptions about a country I thought I knew.

I have organized my experiences, observations, and reflections into three essays:

Part One: The Country I Thought I Knew
Understanding a Civilization Beyond 1949

Part Two: The China I Discovered
From Imperial Beijing to the Mountains of Huangshan

Part Three: The China I Had Not Imagined
Modern China and the Perspective I Brought Home

Together, these three essays explore China's extraordinary history, the places and people I encountered, and the contemporary country that challenged my expectations.

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Modern China and the Perspective I Brought Home

Shanghai: The Future I Had Not Imagined

My final destination in China was Shanghai.

By the time I arrived, I had traveled through imperial cities, Tibetan monasteries, tea gardens, mountain landscapes, and traditional villages.

I had encountered centuries of history, diverse cultural traditions, and extraordinary natural beauty.

Shanghai introduced another dimension of China.

Its scale, architecture, infrastructure, and urban development were astonishing.

Standing along the Bund, I could see the historical buildings that reflected Shanghai's development as an international commercial center during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Across the Huangpu River rose the skyline of Pudong.

The Oriental Pearl Tower, Shanghai Tower, and surrounding skyscrapers created a striking image of contemporary urban development.

The contrast was extraordinary.

On one side of the river stood buildings associated with an earlier period of foreign influence, international trade, and colonial power.

On the other stood one of the world's most recognizable modern skylines.

The transformation represented by Pudong is especially remarkable.

Much of its development occurred over the past several decades, following China's economic reforms and the decision to develop the district as a major financial and commercial center.

But my fascination extended beyond the skyline. I was impressed by the transportation systems, the infrastructure, the organization of public spaces, the architecture, and the visible integration of technology into everyday life.

Shanghai felt extraordinarily advanced.

At one point, I found myself thinking that if someone had parachuted me into the city without telling me where I was, I would have assumed I had arrived in one of the most developed and technologically advanced countries on the planet. It revealed the distance between the image of China I had carried for decades and the reality I was experiencing.

I had grown up associating China with a communist political system that represented oppression and restriction.

I was now standing in a city whose visible development challenged many of my assumptions about what contemporary China looked like.

Of course, impressive infrastructure and technological achievement do not answer every question about political freedom, individual rights, social conditions, or the experiences of people living throughout the country.

A visitor's observations are necessarily limited but what I was seeing deserved to be understood on its own terms.

The more I observed, the more I wanted to learn.

What Impressed Me Most

Looking back on my journey, I realize that some of my strongest impressions came from ordinary details rather than famous landmarks.

Everywhere I traveled, I had a strong impression of a country where people approached their work with seriousness, discipline, and purpose.

There was something solid about the atmosphere. I noticed it in the organization of public spaces, the efficiency of transportation, the attention to maintenance, and the way people appeared to carry out their responsibilities.

The country seemed to be moving with extraordinary determination.

I could feel an energy that extended beyond its buildings, infrastructure, and technology.

It was the energy of people working, building, improving, and moving forward.

Of course, a few weeks of travel cannot reveal the working lives of an entire population, but the consistency of what I observed across different cities made a lasting impression on me.

What fascinated me was the sense that progress was visible everywhere, in both the extraordinary achievements and the ordinary details of everyday life.

I was intrigued by the scale and quality of infrastructure.

China's extensive high-speed railway network, modern airports, highways, and urban transportation systems reflect decades of investment and development.

I was impressed by the organization of many public spaces and the attention given to landscaping and urban greenery.

Another striking observation was the number of electric vehicles on the roads.

Electric cars seemed to be everywhere.

In China, vehicles with new-energy powertrains, including fully electric and certain plug-in hybrid models, generally carry green license plates, making them easy to distinguish from conventional vehicles, which commonly have blue plates.

Once I began noticing the difference, I became fascinated by how frequently green plates appeared.

Many of the DiDi cars I traveled in were modern electric vehicles, comfortable, quiet, and equipped with sophisticated technology.

I was equally impressed by the cleanliness of the cities I visited. Streets, sidewalks, public spaces, and transportation facilities appeared remarkably well maintained.

The air quality surprised me.

I had arrived with an image of Chinese cities associated with pollution. To my surprise, throughout much of my journey, the air felt exceptionally clean and pleasant.

This was one of the many experiences that challenged my expectations.

I noticed recycling facilities, environmental initiatives, and efforts to incorporate nature into modern cities.

I was intrigued by the coexistence of traditional practices and contemporary technology.

Tea houses and modern skyscrapers, ancient temples and sophisticated transportation networks, traditional villages and rapidly expanding cities.

I became increasingly interested in the relationship between China's historical identity and its contemporary transformation.

In several places, I encountered signs of renewed curiosity about cultural heritage, including among younger generations.

Traditional clothing, historical architecture, tea culture, calligraphy, and other cultural practices appeared to be finding new audiences.

These observations made me think about the speed at which countries can change.

An impression formed ten or fifteen years ago may become increasingly incomplete when a society is experiencing rapid transformation. Even observations from three or five years earlier may fail to capture important developments.

I began wondering how much of our understanding of the world is based on information that no longer reflects present realities.

That question extended far beyond China.

It concerned the way we form opinions, the sources we trust, and the willingness we have to reconsider what we believe.

The Country I Thought I Knew

When I left communist Romania decades ago, I carried with me experiences that profoundly shaped my understanding of political systems, freedom, and individual responsibility.

Those experiences remain part of who I am.

Traveling to China did not change my understanding of what I had lived through.

I was fully aware that China is governed by an authoritarian political system under the leadership of the Chinese Communist Party.

My experience growing up in communist Romania had given me a deeply personal understanding of the importance of political freedom, individual rights, and the relationship between governments and the people they govern.

I carried that awareness with me throughout my journey. At the same time, I could not ignore what I was experiencing.

The cities I visited were extraordinarily developed. Public spaces were clean and beautifully maintained. Transportation was efficient, technology was integrated into everyday life, and the infrastructure frequently exceeded my expectations.

The people I encountered appeared engaged in their work and daily activities, and the atmosphere in many places was vibrant and energetic.

From my perspective as a visitor, many aspects of everyday life appeared to offer an impressive quality of living.

I understood that these observations could not tell me everything about people's personal freedoms, economic circumstances, or private experiences.

I was increasingly aware that my understanding of China's political system and my observations of Chinese society were two different dimensions of the same country.

Both deserved to be examined seriously.

I had come to China willing to learn, and learning required me to acknowledge what I was seeing.

It changed my understanding of China.

I discovered a country with extraordinary historical depth, immense geographical diversity, remarkable cultural traditions, and levels of contemporary development that exceeded my expectations.

I encountered places where centuries of history remained visible in architecture, art, philosophy, religious practice, and everyday life.

I saw cities whose infrastructure and urban development challenged the image I had carried for decades.

And I became increasingly aware of how much I still had to learn.

I also understood that a few weeks of travel cannot reveal the full reality of a country inhabited by more than 1.4 billion people.

The experiences of people living in different regions, economic circumstances, and social environments can vary enormously.

There are important questions about governance, political rights, social conditions, and economic challenges that require serious study and consideration.

Admiring what I observed does not require overlooking those complexities.

But intellectual honesty also requires acknowledging achievements and experiences that challenge our expectations.

I traveled to China because I wanted to understand a country that had intrigued me for years.

I returned with a different perspective. The most important discovery was not simply how much China had changed.

It was how much my understanding needed to change.

For years, I had viewed China primarily through the political history that shaped my childhood.

Now I had encountered a civilization whose history stretched back thousands of years and a contemporary society whose development was far more complex than the image I had inherited.

When I returned home, I told my daughters that if they wanted to expand their vision of what the world could look like 150 years into the future, they should travel to China.

That was how extraordinary the experience had felt to me.

One of my daughters listened to my stories and eventually asked me a question that I never imagined hearing.

“Mom, can I immigrate to China?”

I laughed.

“I don't think so. They already have 1.4 billion people!”

Of course, China does have immigration pathways, but my response was spontaneous, playful, and completely unexpected.

And then I thought about the extraordinary circle life had drawn.

Decades earlier, I had left communist Romania and immigrated to the United States because I wanted to build a different life. I wanted my children to be born and raised in a country where freedom, opportunity, and individual choice were fundamental values.

America represented that possibility.

And now, decades later, one of those children was asking whether she could immigrate to China.

The very country whose political system had influenced the Romania I had wanted to leave.

I found the contrast fascinating.

Life has a remarkable way of bringing us face to face with perspectives we could never have imagined when we were younger.

I had crossed an ocean seeking a different future for my children.

And one of those children was now looking across that same ocean, imagining possibilities in a country I had once viewed through an entirely different lens.

It was a beautiful reminder of how much the world changes, how much our understanding evolves, and how differently one generation can see the possibilities that another generation could scarcely imagine.

The journey reminded me of something I have come to believe deeply. Our understanding of the world is always incomplete.

We learn through our experiences, our education, the information available to us, and the environments in which we live while the world continues to change, and so must our willingness to learn.

The more consciously aware we become, the more aware we become of how much we do not know.

I believe that genuine understanding begins when curiosity becomes stronger than certainty.

When we are willing to question our assumptions, examine unfamiliar perspectives, and discover something that changes the way we see the world.

I went to China expecting to learn about a country.

I returned having learned something about the importance of remaining open to discovery.

And I know one thing with certainty.

I want to return.

There is so much more to see, so much more to understand, and so much more to experience.

China reminded me that the world is infinitely more interesting when we approach it with curiosity.

And that learning, like life itself, is a journey that never truly ends.

Travel by Design, Not by Default.

Until the next horizon,

Coach • Traveler • Believer in Intentional Living

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