Name Everything Around You

Bowl, plate, chopsticks, spoon — the table is set and the foreign guest has no idea where to start.

New apartment, video call with best friend — time to show off every piece of furniture one by one.

Check-in complete. Bags unpacked. And then — no toothbrush. Time to visit the front desk.

Pat your pockets. Phone? Check. Wallet? Check. Keys? Oh no — they are still on the table.

A student opens the kitchen cabinet for the first time. Wok, knife, cutting board — now what?

The roommate alarm goes off at five AM. Every. Single. Day. This is war.

First day at work. No stapler, no tape, no idea where the printer is. The intern survival guide begins.

No bag at the supermarket. Arms full of groceries. The walk home just got very interesting.

Phone at 1%. Charger found. But wait — the plug does not fit the outlet. Welcome to China.

Scraped knee, tears flowing. Mom opens the first-aid box — band-aid, antiseptic, and a kiss to make it better.

First time in the Beijing subway. Card out. Gate closed. The line behind him growing longer.

It is his turn to clean. The broom is in his hand. But somehow he is still on his phone.

Birthday presents everywhere. But the toddler ignores them all — and plays with the cardboard box instead.

The balcony plant is drooping. Water! Sunlight! Soil! A rescue mission begins at the flower pot.

Someone brought a guitar. Someone found a mic. By midnight, they had a band nobody planned.

The bookshelf will not budge. Three friends show up, and suddenly everything fits through the door.

Pick your gear! But by the time he reaches the front, all that is left is a jump rope.

At the scenic spot, everyone fights for the best angle. Camera or phone? Filter or no filter?

Back to school shopping. She needs a pencil and an eraser. She wants everything in the store.

Vegetables weighed, price set — but no cash. The vendor points to a QR code and grins.

The chair wobbles. Dad grabs a hammer. Twenty minutes later, the chair has three legs.

Art class begins. She squeezes the paint tube a little too hard — and the white paper is no longer white.

Grandpa checks the wall clock. His grandson checks his phone. Same question, different century.

Sunscreen, sunglasses, umbrella, portable fan — going outside in Chinese summer is a full equipment check.

The bottle cap will not budge. She twists and pulls and finally asks the cashier — who opens it in one second.

New cat, empty apartment. The pet shop list grows longer with every aisle.

She looks around the room and realizes — she can name every single thing in Chinese. When did that happen?

The bag is gone. The bus is gone. But at the lost-and-found counter, a miracle is waiting.

She shakes the piggy bank. Coins pour out. Thirty minutes of counting later — one hundred yuan!