(LI SHIGONG)

The two years I've spent in China have been enormously educational. I've learned that China is more diverse and complex than I ever could have imagined—in fact, the more I study it, the more I realize how little I know. I've learned not to travel domestically during Spring Festival. I've learned that I can live without YouTube. But there have been more subtle lessons as well. As I enter my third year here, I realize I've picked up some new habits, small changes in behavior that China has encouraged in me. These changes are both good and bad, but it seems like they're here to stay:

Being aggressive. This was a hard lesson to learn. My first trip in China was to Shanhaiguan, at the end of the National Day Golden Week in October. Upon arrival at the train station, we went up to the counter to see about getting tickets back to Beijing. Another customer was there, so I stood behind him and waited patiently. But when he moved away from the counter, someone else jumped in front of me. This actually happened two or three times before I finally moved fast enough. Now I'm relentless. Last dumpling in the dining hall? I'm taking it. The subway car can't possibly fit one more? Too bad, make room. Even at the zoo last weekend, I had to thrust my hand through the window at the ticket counter before the man hovering next to me could beat me to it. If you're not aggressive, people will quite literally walk all over you.

Being spontaneous. I'm a planner. I like to know when holidays are and for how long. I like to book plane and train tickets months in advance, so living in China can sometimes be challenging. But its spontaneous nature is also incredibly rewarding. Some of the best times I've had here were based on impulsive decisions. I think it's exciting when my roommate asks, "Do you want to go to Yunnan—tomorrow?" The flip side, I've learned, is to always confirm plans at least once, because last-minute organization goes hand in hand with last-minute cancellation.

Always carrying cash. Back home, I was a debit card queen. Why carry cash, I reasoned, when I only had to remember a four-digit number? But paying for things this way made it easy to lose track until I eventually checked my bank account and wondered where all my money went. Even worse, it was all too easy to whip out my credit card and worry about the cost later. Although these options are still available in China, they're not as widespread and it's usually easier to pay with cash—so I always have it. My credit card has generally been retired except for the occasional online purchase. It's such a relief to go from worrying about interest rates to receiving credit card statements with the most satisfying balance—$0.00.

Always needing to have the last word when text messaging. When I first came to China, text messaging was relatively new to me. I had only used it a handful of times and found it tedious to type out my message when I could just call. But in China, text messaging is a way of life; my inbox fills up faster than I can delete old messages. A lot of them, however, are pretty pointless. "Do you want to have dinner on Friday?" "OK, where?" "I don't know, let's decide later." "OK." "OK." "See you then!" For some reason I feel compelled to have the last word in these exchanges, even if I'm not saying anything. I've learned it's just easier that way. On several occasions, thinking the matter under discussion was settled, I've let it go, only to hear my phone beep again a few minutes later: "Did you get my text message?"

Using three words when one would suffice. This is a holdover from my teaching days. In an effort to improve my students' vocabulary and make sure they understood what I was saying, I would often follow up words with multiple synonyms. "Good writing is succinct, concise, terse," I'd tell them without a hint of irony. But I can't seem to break the habit. I even find myself using my "teacher voice" when I video chat with family and friends back home: "The weather today is humid, muggy, moist." My words are carefully chosen, my speech is slow. I also find there are certain words that I automatically pantomime no matter with whom I'm talking. In my conversations, "call," "eat," "drive" and "run" are always, always accompanied by unnecessary hand gestures. I think I am doomed to do this for the rest of my life.

The author is American and lives in Beijing