A Friend I Met on a United SFO–PVG Flight

On a United Airlines flight from San Francisco SFO to Shanghai Pudong PVG, the plane had started its descent and the cabin announcements kept reminding everyone to fasten their seatbelts. Outside was night; inside, people were already lit up with the excitement of “finally going home.” It was on this flight that I met a friend.

Author: Koutian Wu; GitHub: ktwu01

She was from Shanghai, and had self-funded a cultural exchange program in the US for a few months, staying with a host family near Washington, DC. For her it was the first time living somewhere like that for an extended period: an unfamiliar neighborhood, an unfamiliar family, an unfamiliar sense of safety. She mentioned that the DC area isn’t always as easy as tourists imagine; and the state she stayed in also had many immigrant families.

Before she left, she’d probably pictured what a cultural exchange should look like: someone taking her to see local museums, markets, or schools; some weekend activities; dinner-table chat about each other’s cities, movies, and upbringings. She didn’t just want to “check off” America; she also hoped to improve her spoken English and genuinely talk more with locals. At the very least, it wouldn’t just be trading one place for another to pass time alone.

That didn’t happen. Beyond the everyday interaction, her hosts made no special arrangements for entertainment or cultural exchange; many afternoons and evenings she could only stay at the host family’s home watching movies, scrolling her phone, and waiting out the day. For a young person from Shanghai, the contrast was specific: what she knew was dense crowds, restaurants and malls you could step into anytime, and the sense that there was always one more thing to do; in front of her was a life with few people, few choices, and quiet enough to feel almost still. She half-joked that America is a lot like the countryside.

The most absurd part was that she teased her time there as “doing jail time in America.” Of course, not literally deprived of freedom; it was just that the gap between expectations and reality was so wide, being in a strange place with few outlets, time stretched long and the months were often filled with nothing much to do. The metaphor sounds exaggerated, but it’s also honest. Her spoken English did get better, because she still talked with locals quite a bit; it’s just that the improvement didn’t erase the boredom.

I can relate. In 2023 I spent time in Boulder, Colorado. There are mountains, wonderful sunshine, and nature scenery many people dream about; but if you’re used to the sounds, meetings, and choices that constantly happen in a city, it can feel like a small village hemmed in by mountains. You want to go out but have nowhere in particular to go, you want to talk to someone but don’t know who to turn to, and the days suddenly narrow. That “like being in jail” feeling doesn’t come from a door being locked; it comes from the radius of your life suddenly shrinking.

She had considered staying overseas. But she missed home a lot. When we talked about her parents, she’d naturally ask “have they ever visited you in America,” and would remark on the tight bond between only children and their parents. Living abroad didn’t automatically push her toward a “stay” narrative; for her, going home wasn’t a retreat, it was acknowledging what she really cared about.

She’s back in China now, planning to become a kindergarten teacher. She studied education originally and communicates well in English, but she didn’t treat her overseas experience as a reason she must stay abroad. She said she doesn’t want the kind of work that requires constantly dealing with foreign clients; she’d rather put what she learned to use with children. When she asked me to guess her profession, she left a riddle: everyone, at some point in growing up, encounters a person who does this job. The answer was teacher.

That gives her story on the plane another layer of meaning. She went to America not to build a glamorous résumé, but to try out what the outside world is actually like. After trying it, she found she didn’t necessarily like that life, but she became more certain about what she wanted to do next. That kind of answer is precious too.

From “coming back from jail time” to finally becoming a teacher, she still talks about it lightly, even with some amusement. Once the plane landed at Pudong, the experience finally got a slightly comedic ending. Maybe a less-than-ideal exchange isn’t necessarily a bad thing: at least it helped her see more clearly what kind of life she wants, which city she wants to stay in, and what kind of grown-up she wants to become.