I've been to China once before, on a two-week trip with my high school. I was fourteen years old and totally, completely high on life. Oh, everything was so thrilling: wandering the streets of Beijing, photographing every Chinese kid I saw, taking advantage of the lack of a drinking age. I tried to speak the language, mostly by bargaining for cheap bracelets and knick-knacks. I was involved in some awesome ninth grade love triangles, which turned my journal into half travelogue ("Today we went to Tiananmen Square! It was so interesting!") and half frenzied boy reporting ("I love X! We talked all day! Then I talked to Y! He's so cute! Z sat next to me at dinner!") My diet for the trip consisted of white rice and Sprite. I wore bell-bottom jeans with denim vests. I was convinced I knew everything about everything.
Below are some photographs from that wonderful, ridiculous, whirlwind trip. It's been almost ten years and I'm looking forward to seeing China now, through very different eyes.