Impressions from the Middle Kingdom

(Due to popular - ahem - demand here now the English version)
How unsual it is to speak German or English again, to see so many Westerners, to eat Pasta or Pizza, to sit on the toilet. China is still in my system even though I'm thousands of kilometers and seven timezones away. The wonders of modern technology: just now I was in Beijing, now back to Europe, Munich, London. I see familiar features in peoples faces, I hear familiar languages, I can read the menu again. And somehow I wish it was not so.
All the remains are the memories, the floods of impressions, endless photographs and some of Beijing's dust on my shoes. I don't want to wash it off. I don't want to miss the noise and comotion of this vibrant city. Still I know that nothing can stop the fading of the countless impressions.
The cars with their crazy drivers, the swarms of cyclists, many even crazier than the car drivers. The countless eateries, stalls and restaurants that give off almost as many different smells. The colourful markets. The people, the way the talk, discuss, bargain, advertise, dance in the park or practice calligraphy or taiji. The girls with their elegantly curved, faithfully deep brown eyes, silky skin and jet-black hair. The kindness, generosity and curiosity with which people meet a simple stranger like me. The language so mind-boggling, different, difficult, melodic and fascinating at the same time. All of it so much that you can't help but want to learn it. Even if it is just so that you know what you just ordered.
There's so much more that already begins to fade. The torrent is boundless.
If I lost something on my trip to China it is my heart - almost in every respect.
How can I call a street lively if it doesn't cause the same kind of noise as a market in Nanjing? Never again will food be spicy if it does not have the same infernal effect as the dishes from the Sichuan province. Never again can I call a city big if it takes less than an hour to get from one side to the other (using a train!). And never again will I call anything utterly mad (for lack of a better word) if it does not surpass the "godknowshowmany channel spectral Dolby Surround fountain" of Nanjing!
Memories may fade and intermingle. Old impressions will be replaced by new ones. But how could I ever forget China! I will return. I must.