When I left China for a visit home and landed at the airport on Kauai, Hawaii, I was teary-eyed at being "home again". Leaving there and arriving on mainland America, I said to myself, "Ah, home". Returning to my apartment in China, I sighed and thought, "Gosh, it's good to be home."

If home is where the heart is, then I have a divided heart after eight years of living and working in China and becoming a visitor at those other places I call home, Kauai, and mainland America. I now experience culture shock wherever I go!

The Kauai airport is small and everyone is smiling and friendly. There's sweet music playing and the scent of flowers permeates the soft air. On Kauai I must remember to go very, very, slowly. When driving, it takes time to get used to people stopping and waving you on ahead of them at intersections - with a big smile. "Hawaiian time" means we get there when we get there. No hurry, no worry. You go first.

The minute I am in the airport in America I can feel the pressure of time. Everyone seems focused and in a hurry, walking briskly. Renting a car is super-easy but pulling out from the lot into the freeway traffic and going 70 mph in four lane traffic is a terrific shock after the slow meander of Kauai. Yes, most are driving safely and predictably, but at such speed!

Returning to China, the noise, confusion and hordes of people seemingly all rushing to the same spot in a pack is maddening. The drive in the taxi reminds me that there are seemingly no rules of the road and apparently everyone is out for themselves. Death can seem imminent.

Three different places, three different paces. Three different cultures. All of them feel like home - but not quite. It is the price and also the pleasure of the wanderer. Each place both delights and aggravates. There's familiarity and also the sense of not quite belonging. Each port of call has me rushing to a favorite eatery, Hammura's Saimen on Kauai, Brophy's Seafood in Santa Barbara and jaozi or mian anywhere in China.