The question bothers me for a different reason. Even though I’m Chinese, China is a foreign place to me. I’ve visited the country three times and only during the first trip when I was 2 years old did I not feel a sense of diaspora. Keeping in touch with my roots is important, but I’ve always struggled to do so.

Although I’ve put a sizable amount of effort into learning the language and keeping in touch with my Chinese relatives, unforeseen obstacles only widened the gap.

With the political tension between China and the U.S. during the 2012 reelection of President Barack Obama, my trust toward my country was further strained.

It became harder and harder to view the people of China as honest with media from both the U.S. and China presenting conflicting views of the Chinese government and, in time, their society. Sorting out the facts became so tedious my concern slowly dwindled.For a time, I stopped digging for answers. Then, at the end of October, something changed.

It started at noon on a Thursday. For me, Thursday means learning programming all day in the engineering building. However, on this particular day, I came across more than just computers. During my search for a seat in the crowded Sparty’s lobby, I came across a woman who allowed me to share a table. She was Chinese and, after exchanging greetings, I found out that she was also an international graduate student. It was then the timeless question echoed back into my ears.

“Are… you Chinese?”

This time, the conversation took a different turn. Instead of the awkward silence and a hasty change of subject, she began asking if I was born here and whether or not I ate traditional Chinese food at home. Before long, the conversation flowed into a cultural revelation. I recounted the numerous places I had most recently visited during the summer and she elaborated on her own experiences on some of the destinations. She even humorously commented about how she was confused by foreign interest in China’s Terracotta Warriors. To her, the stories of a giant army painted in realistic detail were more interesting than the browned statues residing in a hole in the ground.

When it was time for me to go, we both said our goodbyes and parted. After all of the turmoil that I had gone through to understand the true China, I was astonished to find that one conversation taught me more than I could have ever read. And the experience didn’t stop there.

It was another Thursday and a week had gone by since my encounter with the international student. Once again in the crowded lobby, I found a seat, this time with a different international graduate student from China. She too opened with the same question and, once again, the conversation moved from any form of awkwardness and flowed into a relaxing discussion on the differences between the two countries’ day-to-day cultures.

During many points of the conversation, she displayed her own curiosity about the norms of the U.S. It was almost comforting to know that we were on the same boat. At the end of the discussion, the woman I met last week walked into the lobby and greeted us both. I was surprised to find that both of the women were regular lunch friends and realized the connection we shared.

For many years, I looked at college as a learning experience but never thought something so mundane could trigger something so profound. I continue looking forward to meeting other international students, including those outside of my heritage. That way, I can not only strengthen my roots but also branch out toward cultures outside my own. The conversations that I had with those Chinese students taught me more than any of my Chinese classes could possibly offer.

MSU is an incredibly diverse school. If everyone took the time to meet even one international student, I’m sure the world wouldn’t be so culturally conflicted and unaware.