Confidence

I like to think of myself as a confident person. But I am coming to realize that there are more kinds of confidence than one can shake a stick at... case in point:

As I have written about already, I spent 3 months living in China this past year. While a confident, independant person home in Canada, in China I became a confused, bumbling infant. When I first arrived, I had to have one of my Chinese friends with me to translate at all times. Just walking down the street, I would feel pangs of fear. "What if I get lost? What happens if someone tries to attack me? What if I get into trouble?" It was my first major trip to an extremely foreign country, and I was out of my element. It was like reverting back to childhood. Someone had to order food for me, point me in the direction of washrooms, walk with me to go buy some fruit or use the internet.

Finally, I started to regain my confidence. I began to feel comfortable in my settings, began to learn enough Chinese that I thought I could pass on my own in the city. I learned some choice phrases that I thought would help me out: "Ni che se ba (go to hell), man zou (take it easy), wo yao nyo nai (I want milk), pian zi (liar), da sha dan (big foolish egg), wo ai ni (I love you)" Only the essentials.

And finally, one day I was on my own. My roomate had headed back to the apartment, and I decided I wanted to go and use the internet. I literally strutted down the walkway, chest puffed out like a peacock, picking my way over the cracked concrete, scattered sunflower casings, and vomit stains (I had watched a drunken man vomit there the night before). I could see people passing me on bikes, wearing puffy mao-esque jackets, turning their heads to stare at the tall redhead walking alone through a back street in Northern China. Boy, did I feel confident. I began to think of my friends back home in Canada, slaving away at university. They had never done anything like this in their lives. I thought of my arrival in China, my low confidence and reliance on others. I thought of how privelidged I was to get this chance, and I felt so proud of myself for adjusting to life in a new country and culture.

As all these thoughts raced through my head, I spotted the internet cafe, and headed towards it. I could see through the shop's glass front, covered in a layer of dust and smoke, into the mass of people inside sending emails, instant messaging and playing games. I began to walk up the crooked, uneven stairs. And then I was falling, I had tripped and landed flat on my stomach in the middle of the busy afternoon, in front of a glass-fronted store.

Looking around, hoping no one saw, I picked myself up and tried to salvage what was left of my dignity. Head down, face flaming red, I hurried into the cafe, where no doubt the whole store had watched me fall.

Over-confidence? Yup, I'm prone to that too.