Lost in refresh in China.

I remember it distinctly, I was nabbing another stolen french fry in ketchup as Wes casually broke the news to Briana and I. It was a text from his mom, that news, that his mom had learned how to cross the seas with a message, had seemed just as alerting. "Obama got Osama Bin Laden. He's dead." With the sting of those words came updates from her day, I went golfing with so-and-so.

"What?" I asked, slightly shocked, but I continued to chew just as attentively on my stolen fry. It was 2 in the afternoon, Beijing time, and I was sitting in a McDonald's in Shanghai's Old Town. A joke, I thought for sure.

Though, what kind of weird joke would that be? Right...

Sitting in as "American" of an establishment as you can get--McDonald's arches are actually the most recognized symbol to children around the world--thank Fast Food Nation for that fun fact. Compounded to the fact that many foreigners extract American food to purely be Mcfood, well, you get the idea, I should have felt the comfort of my homeland with ol' Ronald.

But as I listened, and moments later the reality of the event sunk in, "Osama Bin Laden is dead," I felt even more detached from home, or rather AMERICA. A text and some fries don't translate to being on the home-front of jubilation.

12 hours later, I waited impatiently as the hostel's Internet slowly refreshed to the same. Check your Internet connection, try again later. No, I couldn't even check my favorite form of breaking news, The New York Times, for what by now was hardly even new news.

Around the city of Shanghai, I could hear guards whisper in Chinese, grabbing my attention only when an accented English name would surface, Obahhma... ;alskdfj a;klsdjf .....Osahhma Ben Laden.

Everyone worldwide knew, but the news was just a side-note to the day, and perhaps only reminded when a foreign face brushed by.

Two days later, I read about the American reaction. Was it too much? Commentators asked. "Hey, hey, GOOOODbye."

I felt a pang of jealousy. What would the world think of that? Perhaps too much, also. I was jealous; I wanted to experience the momentous moment, a chance to feel part of history, to feel at home.

Nope, instead, I was stealing a McDonald's fry and living in the People's Republic. An experience to feel as foreign as possible, sometimes even at McDonalds. Not even here do we speak the same language.

My reality, living abroad is like that internet connection, try again later. This (or any other) reality probably won't hit "home" until I've reached there, just like the way a skype screen is detached from a real kiss goodbye.