A Bunch of Random Confusion

Time in China is confusing. Not only is it 12 or 13 or 15 or 16 hours different from all of you, depending on the time of year, I've also lived an entire day you've barely even started. And not only does China have its own new year, its universities also like to play around with the days of the week.
Whenever there is a school holiday, some of the days are made up on the weekend before or after. Since Monday and Tuesday were declared a holiday for New Years (declared what, a week ago?), today, Saturday, became Tuesday. Can you understand why the finals schedules got so confused? Saturday was Tuesday, Monday will be held on Thursday, but only on Guang Ling campus because they also have Wednesday off. On the central campus they have classes on Wednesday and don’t have to make up Monday. And in Guang Ling, they make up Wednesday but not Monday, and presumably Thursday is just lost in the shuffle. The time for my finals has changed back and forth at least half a dozen times in the past week as everyone tries to figure out what is going on.
So anyway, today was technically Tuesday. This morning when I got up in the 6:30am darkness I was a bit perturbed about losing out on my Saturday. The students were obviously not entirely thrilled about the idea either, as it took them longer than usual to stir from their dorms. I kept looking out the window (the dormitories are about 50 feet away) to make sure that I wasn’t the only one up on this rainy, miserable morning. But no, students are used to the shuffle and were diligently walking to their classrooms at 7:30am. I passed several kids who were dawdling along on their way to school. They always have classes on Saturday, although they get done at noon instead of the weekday 5pm. I like watching the neighborhood kids wander slowly behind my apartment on their way to the primary (elementary) school next door. They jump to grab tree branches and throw rocks in Stinky River and stop to examine trash on the ground, savoring their last few minutes of freedom. It reminds me that they're still kids.
On the bus I sat next to a talkative teacher who kept asking questions about Tom and Jerry. "Why does Tom (or was it Jerry) go flat when he is surprised or angry?" The problem is, I don’t analyze cartoons. They don’t make sense. They aren’t supposed to. Why does Wylie Coyote never die? Because if he did, Road Runner would get bored.
She also expressed concern because sometimes I wear skirts. “I am worried about foreign teachers like you because there is no heat in the classrooms.” Should I be disturbed that Everyone notices what I wear?
She also thought I was Corrine. A foreigner is a foreigner, no matter what color the eyes or hair or skin.
Okay, another random tangent. A couple of weeks ago when I walked into my freshmen class I had my hair tucked underneath my coat. I noticed that half of the class was kind of staring at me perplexedly and whispering, but I ignored it as I got out my stuff for class. While I was looking over the lesson plan I absentmindedly pulled my hair out from inside my coat and the whole side of the room erupted into giggles and loud whispering. I looked up and realized that they thought I had chopped all my hair off. How can 20 something students be staring at you and all thinking the same thing? Why are 20 something students staring at my hair? I just kept laughing every time I thought of it. What if I died my hair black or shaved it all off. They would flip out.
Oh yeah, so back to people noticing every little thing I do. I guess it’s kind of like being a celebrity, in a weird annoying way. Once I was having a conversation with a student, and in the middle of talking about something mildly serious, she suddenly says, “You have beautiful eyes.” What? How is that related to anything? Another student asked me about some random comment I had made in class months ago. How do they remember these things?
Okay, I’m so far gone on tangents that I have no idea where I was going with this. I was on the bus to Guang Ling campus. I gave interviews to my freshmen this morning. I decided they are really cute. I see them all the time in this vast classroom of 45 students where they are sitting quietly in their desk in the back, but it’s different to see them one-on-one two feet from you. They become more real. They each have individual lives and stories and problems and goals. You get the feeling that they are standing in front of you like a third grader who just really wants you to like them. And they’re so nervous.
And I was so tired. I kept zoning out when they were talking and thinking, “I guess I have to count that as correct ‘cause I have no idea what they just said.” I looked at my watch and it was only 8:15 and I still had 3 and ½ hours of this left and I was already out of coffee.
Anyway, I finished with that and stood on the muddy road waiting for the bus. Along with the hordes of students who were making a mass exodus to their homes for the three or four day break. We had to wait for several buses to pass by until there was one that had enough room to cram us in.
I was so tired and I was going to take a nap this afternoon but then I got distracted by mopping and now it’s almost time for our New Years party. It’s almost New Years. Or at least here. The first one. I’m so confused. Time is so relative. Let’s be honest; the only thing consistent about time is the ball dropping, right? That’s the real new years. The time zone stuff is all just too confusing.
I have no idea what all of this is about. I just started writing, I don’t even remember why, and the rest is just a sampling from my jumbled mental state. If I ever write a book, and if I ever include some of this stuff in it, this blog will definitely be edited out. Woah, speaking of which, did you know that “blog” is not in the Microsoft Word dictionary? It needs to get up with the times. Happy New Years, whenever you have it. Wishing you (and me) greater mental stability in the one to come.

China-style Christmas

(warning, this is practically book-length).

For all of you that were wondering (and really, even if you weren’t wondering), I had a great Christmas. My students and friends really helped to make it special. They were so excited to learn more about Christmas. They knew that it was important to me so they brought cards and presents and Christmas wishes. Once a student said, “We have a language barrier and our cultures our different. We don’t always understand each other, but we have warm hearts.” In these past few weeks I have definitely experienced the warmth of their hearts.

On Christmas Eve I had one of my classes over for a Christmas party. I was busy refilling food and drinks while they made snowflakes and Christmas cards. They started playing some card games (the girls and guys even playing together!). I’m not sure what they were playing, but they were laughing and yelling and really getting into it! I was exhausted, but I liked watching them have so much fun.

The Christmas Eve service that I was kind of dreading I actually ended up really enjoying! Something about being around so many people is exhilarating, and I have never seen so many people in Yangzhou as I did on Christmas Eve! Christmas is starting to become popular in China, but it is mostly celebrated on Christmas Eve, by going out to dinner or partying in town.

Several students went with me to the service, and we left about an hour earlier. When we got to the bus stop outside the campus gate, there were already about 20 people waiting. Normally there are about 2. Two buses passed by without stopping because they were too full to take on any more passengers. Not America full, but China full, meaning it would be physically impossible to squeeze one more person through the door. Finally the third bus stopped. There were still about two feet of space in front of the door, so it let us on. About a dozen people crowded into that space. It was definitely the most crowded bus I’ve ever been on, including the ones I took in Beijing.

We got off at the stop near downtown and walked the rest of the way. Everyone who lives in the Yangzhou area must have been downtown. I’m a terrible judge of numbers, but there must have been thousands. We passed the Pizza Hut and the 100 foot line outside. The buildings were lit up and purple, green, and blue spot lights swung across the sky. Shops competed with one another to see who could blare their music the loudest.

Guards were waiting at the door of the church to ward off anyone who did not have tickets. The building was already packed past capacity. We were ushered to an empty pew at the very front to the side of the stage. We had a great view of everyone in the audience and of the twelve foot Christmas tree by the stage. And we could see about half of the performance.

The performance was definitely Chinese. Since that doesn’t mean a whole lot to you, it’s hard to describe. The choir sang Christmas songs. Young women danced traditional dances and old women performed traditional drum routines. Men performed skits and recited poetry. Cute children danced and sang. A group played classical Chinese instruments. I’m not sure what they all were, but my favorite was the guqin (zithers) because they sounded similar to harp.

Altogether there were 16 performances. It was certainly not peaceful or candlelit. Throughout the whole performance, there were people talking, walking in front of the stage, and loudly blowing their noses. Babies were crying. Children were running around, playing with the Christmas tree, and playing with the impromptu stage curtain. But they were enjoying it. I couldn’t understand the skits, but I smiled when everyone laughed because I loved to see their happiness.
At the end, the choir sang the Hallelujah Chorus in Chinese. If you've ever heard the Hallelujah Chorus performed, it sounded nothing like that. It was joyful cacophony. I think about half of the notes were off, but it was still incredible. Sung in Chinese, sung in China, the song had new meaning. I had tears in my eyes. It would have been a perfect ending, but then Santa Clause came out and sang Silent Night in English. It was random. That’s how things work in China.

Afterwards we decided to walk home. The buses were still running, even though they normally stop at 6:30pm, but they were still packed. It was only about 45 minutes back to campus. The night was surprisingly warm and still filled with lights and people. As we got outside of the center of town the night became quieter and cooler. It was beautiful.

On Christmas morning I celebrated with the rest of the team. We opened stockings and had brunch (with homemade cinnamon rolls and gingerbread) in my apartment. Then we opened presents in Christina’s apartment. We got presents for each other. The Brennans had gotten several things when they were in Beijing (Dr. Pepper and Starbucks coffee!), the rest of us found things in Yangzhou (hats, gloves, pink bunny ears…), and a package from my family arrived just in time on Christmas day!

That evening we went out to dinner with some brothers and sisters we meet with here. They are special people. We still have the same language and culture barriers, but our common bond brings us close. We went to a restaurant near campus and ordered all our favorite dishes. Then we came back to play games and eat desert. Certain games can be challenging because of the language barriers, but we laughed a lot and everyone had a good time.

Before Christmas I was stressed and just wanting it to be over. After Christmas (namely, at 6am Monday morning), I was wishing it had lasted longer. I talked to my family on my Christmas but it wasn’t Christmas for them yet. Then I talked to them for just a minute on their Christmas before I rushed to catch the bus to go give my finals. Weird. It will also be weird at New Years. I’ll be in 2006 for a whole day before the rest of you get there. And yet, for the rest of China, it won’t be the New Year until January 28th.

While you may be feeling the after-Christmas blues, for me the best is yet to come. I’ve just got two more weeks of finals and then I’m headed off to Thailand! Warmth, sunshine, sandals. No long underwear, no gloves, no wool socks. The thought almost makes me delirious. Of course, before then I have to give (and grade) about 200 final interviews, record my final grades (and explain why several students failed), finish my Wheaton work (about 7 assignments to go…), clean the chaos that is now my house, and eat the 10 kg of oranges that the English department just delivered. We counted...51 oranges to divide between Corrine and I. I'm going to have so much vitamin C that germs will flee from me. :)

Loving to sacrifice

The Christmas season has been fun, but to be honest, I’ve kind of been dreading Christmas, a bit resentful because it won’t be as comfortable as I want. Because I will have to sit through a 3-hour, freezing cold Christmas service that I won’t understand. Because I won’t be with my family and can’t celebrate the way I want. Because by the time you are settling down to Christmas dinner, I’ll be heading off to give final exams. In my mind, Christmas means happiness—having fun and doing all the traditions and eating food and opening presents. Christmas even means stress and busyness and crowded shopping malls.
But nowhere in my schema, in the file drawer labeled “Christmas” do I find the idea of sacrifice, of suffering. That’s what Christmas is: a love so great that it demands suffering and sacrifice. A Father who loved his Son so much that he sacrificed him. I don’t understand that kind of love. Even when I think of unselfish love it is something that protects and cares for and gives to and enjoys the one you love. But submitting them to helplessness, poverty, isolation, taunting, suffering, and horrible death? How is this love? Yet the Son, the object of this painful love, asked “that the love You have for me may be in them.” Approaching the hour of his greatest suffering, in the midst of his agony, he understood this love. Christmas is not soft lights or warm fuzzies; it is a love so great we can’t even comprehend it, a love that sacrifices to the last.

O Father, help, lest our poor love refuse
For our beloved the life that they would choose,
And in our fear of loss for them, or pain,
Forget eternal gain.

Teach us to pray; O Though who didst not spare
Thine Own Beloved, lead us on in prayer;
Purge from the earthly, give us love Divine,
Father, like Thine, like Thine.
(Amy Carmichael)


I can break off from anyone,
except the presence within.

Anyone can bring gifts.
Give me someone who takes away.
(Rumi)

Frustration

“Tolerate ambiguity.” It was a skill they told us we would have to develop when we first came to China. I learned that on the first day of class when the classroom location had been changed but I wasn’t told about it. I remember it when we are invited in the middle of the afternoon to a banquet that night. I guess it’s been a while since my patience has been tested, though, because today when I received the e-mail about New Year’s holiday I was, shall we say, highly frustrated.

We found out today that there will be a school holiday January 1-3rd to celebrate the New Year. Tuesday classes are moved to Saturday and Monday’s classes are cancelled. Which would be great, except that it’s final exams! It is the last week of class, and I have already scheduled 90 students for final interviews on those two days. Now I will have to figure out how to contact the students and reschedule before the end of the week so that I will still have time to calculate and turn in grades (although I don’t yet know who I will turn them in to). I think I will go pull my hair out first.

In other notes, today is the first day of winter. And I was just wondering, what the heck has the rest of this been? Summertime? Who planned these seasons anyway?

Cold

Some people say that this is the coldest part of China. It’s not really, of course, but what they mean is that we are just south of the Yangtze River. Anywhere north of the Yangtze they have heat. Anywhere further south of us is naturally warmer. So this area is the furthest north you can go without the benefit of heat.

This morning I took a little digital thermometer to class, just out of curiosity. It was 46°F. I thought I could see my breath when we were singing Christmas Carols. Brrr. It's much better to be teaching though, because you are standing and moving around. The other day when I sat in on Christina's class, my hands and feet were numb after fifteen minutes. It’s not really so cold outside – low 40’s in the day and 20’s at night; it’s just not any warmer inside.

Admittedly, I am a wimp when it comes to cold. I hate cold. I wear two layers of long underwear under several other layers and I’m still cold. My blanket, hot water bottle, smart wool socks, and hot chocolate are my best friends. But really I can’t complain. I have heat in my apartment. It doesn’t keep it as warm as you are probably used to (I still wear at least 3 layers inside), but it’s significantly warmer than outside.

My poor students, however, have no heat in their dormitories or the cafeteria or the classrooms or anywhere they go. They leave on their coats and gloves and scarves all day and carry around thermoses of hot water to drink and to wrap their hands around for warmth. There is also no hot water in the dorms. They have to walk to a separate shower house which does have hot water, and they fill thermoses of hot water for drinking. They hand wash their clothes in the frigid water and hang them outside in the cold to dry. So you can imagine, they don’t shower or wash their clothes quite as often during the winter. I guess they are pretty used to it, although they certainly don't enjoy it. I sure don’t envy them.

Shopping in China: the good, the bad, and the really, really ugly

Today I went shopping. A word about shopping. I’ve never been a big fan of shopping, even in America. In China, there are the same annoying crowds around Christmas time…and every other day of the year. (Generally you can find a place to park your bike, though!) As soon as you walk into a store, eager sales associates crowd around pointing out objects and asking questions and saying things that you don’t understand. It’s hard to make up your mind with a crowd of people looking over your shoulder. I’m indecisive anyway. Then there’s the bargaining. Some people relish it. I just want to buy the thing and not have to argue about it for five minutes. Those are things I don’t like about shopping in China. It’s stressful.

Besides all that, it’s depressing to shop in a country where everything is too small. You think trying on clothes in America is depressing. In China it tends to end up the same way. I find out the end of the sleeves are halfway up my freakishly long arms and the wristband is cutting off circulation and the XL might fit if breathing was unnecessary.

But today I went shopping for boots. A word about boots. In the wintertime, everyone wears boots. Everyone. (Girls, anyway. I don’t pay as much attention to guy shoes. I’ll have to check up on that and let you know.) I’ve seen boots with buckles and diamonds and unidentifiable dangly things. I’ve seen leather and fur and leopard print and fuzzy purple boots. I think that it’s part of the teacher code to wear black, pointy-toed boots. I decided that if I wore a pair of boots (and a hat and five more layers) maybe I would get less scandalous looks and maybe my feet wouldn’t freeze.

So today I went shopping for boots at a big shoe store downtown. The whole store was filled with boots. It’s hard to make up your mind with hundreds of boots to choose from. I’m indecisive anyway. I was going to go for the knee-high pointy-toed boots, because if you’re going to buy boots, you might as well go all out. Even though there were dozens of different kinds of knee-high pointy-toed boots, I couldn’t find one that liked. I guess I’m picky. And I don’t like unidentifiable dangly things.

I finally narrowed in on a few possibilities. The store clerk was really nice, considering I couldn’t figure out anything she was saying. I asked for a 38 (whatever size that is) and she brought a 37. They were too small, of course. I kept asking about a 38. She kept shaking her head and saying something. I thought she didn’t understand. I’ve been in China long enough I should have known that I’m usually the one who doesn’t understand. She was probably trying to help me save face even though my feet were too big for their shoes. Sigh. I finally found a pair – a relatively flat, ankle high pair with warm fuzzy stuff inside. And they fit! Sweet.

Now the good thing about shopping in China: They were only 44¥. That’s $5.50.

Definately December

Yes, it is definitely December now. Last night I lay awake listening to the wind tear at the banners across the street. I heard the walls and windows crack with cold. I could see the shadows of the wimpy little trees whipping in the wind.

One good thing about the winter in China is that it doesn’t drive people inside. Nobody rushes to their heated cars or warm houses because they don’t have them. Cold as it is, my neighbors are still sitting outside in their courtyard and their windows are open. When the temperature inside is as cold as outside, you might as well be in the sun. The mom sat (for hours) knitting on a red sweater while her son squatted nearby watching.

So I decided to brave the cold and bike to the supermarket. I put on my long underwear, SmartWool socks, big boots, coat, scarf, hat, and mittens. The air was biting and the streets formed long wind tunnels. The wind was fighting against me, pushing me back the whole way. Sometimes I felt like it would have been faster to get off and walk, but it sure was a good leg workout. It took a good deal longer than normal to get there. By the time I reached the bike parking lot, I was sweating like it was summer time, but my legs and feet were still cold.

Since it’s the beginning of December, I’m already diving into the Christmas season. I love Christmas! Christmas music is amazingly cheering, as are the little smiling snowmen on my desk. Yesterday one of my students came over and helped me decorate. I have a little tree that one of the past teachers left and even ornaments to go on it. The one disappointment was that the lights I got at the supermarket turned out to be flashing! Not okay. I’m going to have to fix that.

Faith was excited to help. It was the first time she had decorated a Christmas tree. I showed her pictures of our family Christmas tree in the past, and she exclaimed over the presents and the massive numbers of ornaments, our family specialty. I was glad to have someone else to be excited with – decorating alone is no fun.

All the students who have come over are fascinated by the cool little nativity scene my mom sent me. I try to explain the story but it’s so foreign to them. How do you really explain all the history and significance. When you talk about “the Virgin Mary” in the West, a hundred images and connotations come to mind. But they don’t have that automatic reference. I keep asking for wisdom to know how to explain it all.

Last night I invited some students over and we watched The Polar Express. They all crowded onto the couch, and we ate hot chocolate and popcorn. They were thrilled by Santa Clause and the elves and the little Christmas bell. It’s going to be really fun to share Christmas with my students!

Being Thankful...A Little Bit Late

You know, I have to admit, I haven’t been being very thankful. It’s been a rough several weeks with cultural adjustment, teaching, team, self – pretty much everything. I’ve done a lot of thinking about all the things I’m not thankful for and all the parts of my life I don’t like right now. It’s so easy to think of those things.

Today I was teaching my students about Thanksgiving, telling them why we celebrate it and encouraging them to think of different things or people they were thankful for. I told them that sometimes when everything in life seems bad, it is good to remember all the things for which we can be thankful. Occasionally when I teach I actually listen to what I’m saying, and today I was convicted. Even though I keep talking about giving thanks, I haven’t been doing it at all. So tonight I decided to sit down and make a list. Sometimes expressing thanks can sound so cliché and cheesy, like a hallmark card, but I decided to share a few things with you anyway.
I’m really thankful for…

*Friends who keep in touch even though I’m far away and who listen to me even though I gripe a lot.
*Chinese friends who have accepted me even though I’m a clueless foreigner.
*Students who love me and make me feel good about myself.
*Students who don’t love me and keep me humble.
*Books in English
* Parents who love me enough to let me go.
*Letters, packages, and e-mails that are always really encouraging!
*Being able to have three sisters and tons of fun memories.
*Skype! Being able to talk to family and friends for free.
*Being healthy enough to come to China.
*Hot water and a heater.
*My time at Asbury.
*Experienced teammates who can answer all my questions.
*Faith not based on feelings.
*Being raised to realize that it's okay to be different (cause in China I sure am).
*Teachers and professors who have been great teachers even when I haven't been a great student.
*Coffee.
*Those who have gone before and can offer strength and hope and encouragement.
*Grandparents who support me.
*Friendships with other teachers who are experiencing the same joys and frustrations and triumphs and difficulties.
*The ability to laugh at things I don’t understand.
*Everlasting love not dependent on my brains or strength or skill or goodness or lack-thereof.

What Have You Got To Be Thankful For?

So after all my long journeying (it seems long), I am back in home-sweet-home Yangzhou. It was really great to get away for a bit, although traveling in unfamiliar places seems to bring all the cultural and language barriers back to the forefront. There are different kinds of stresses involved in traveling in China. To name a few…
1) Very little privacy on a sleeper full of Chinese people wanting to stare at you.
2) Interesting accommodations: the hotels were nice (including the BRIGHT orange towels), but the trains were a little less comfortable, thanks to the glaring lights and blaring music.
3) And I have to mention the squatties. They have a grab bar in front so you don’t lose your balance on the moving train. Much appreciated. The last thing you would want to do is in any way touch the floor, which gets pretty gross by the end of 21 hours. The squatty is basically a hole out the bottom of the train – you can actually look down and see the tracks underneath. Word of advice: Never walk on train tracks in China.
4) Lots of time on trains and buses: Loud, crowded, and filled with smoke. How do more people not die of lung cancer?
5) Lots of confusion: because nothing goes according to plans. And (most of us) can’t read street signs and bus schedules. And even if you can, it might not help. So you walk. A lot. And ride buses. For a long time.

We were in Xian for less than 36 hours, but we were able to see the world-famous Terra Cotta warriors. There’s a bunch of them. It tends to be a bit of a let-down to see something really famous because of course you can never get as close as the world-famous photographs. My favorite part was taking pictures, and I put a few of them up on flickr.

On Thanksgiving Day, we visited the “Temple of Thanksgiving.” We didn’t realize beforehand that was what it was called in English, but I must say it was quite fitting. There was a 7-story tower you could climb and look out over Xian. We also got to see the old city wall several times as we careened through in city buses. Overall, the traffic in Xian was amazingly orderly (they even stopped at red lights!), but we did have the worst bus driver I’ve yet experienced. Yikes. We also saw the Bell Tower when we were wandering around the city looking for a bus. Plus we experienced a whole lot of the Xian train station.

Our train to Xian was 13 hours but the train back was 21 hours. That’s just how it works. This one stopped really often and gave us a little scenic tour of the countryside. So our Thanksgiving dinner was cheese and crackers on a 21 hour train ride from Xian. I must admit, I was a bit envious thinking of all of you back in America.

On Friday we came in from Xian and spent the weekend with other teachers in the region. There were about 30 teachers overall. Much as I love my teammates, I had been looking forward to time with other foreigners. It was kind of overwhelming at first, though! Once I got over the initial shock of so many foreigners, I had a really good time. I knew some of the people from training and met some fun others. We ate together (including a western-style Thanksgiving meal), played games, and had some good fellowship time. It was good to hear about the struggles and encouragements and lessons of others. It was good to laugh a lot and be sarcastic and joke about the idiosyncrasies of living in China. I came back with some good memories and quotes and private jokes that wouldn’t be nearly as funny if I tried to tell you about them.

I can’t say it was the best Thanksgiving ever or the easiest. Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, and it was interesting being in a country where it doesn’t exist. Of course, my students were excited to learn about Thanksgiving and I was able to get together with other teachers to celebrate, but it didn’t exist in the sense that I’ve always known it. I guess because of all the traveling and the holidays I was reminded of the difficulties of living in China. While Yangzhou is starting to feel familiar, other places are still very foreign. So in a way it was hard. But I was finally able to get past my ingratitude and selfish expectations and remember the point of the holiday. If I could sum up what I’ve been learning this week, I keep being reminded: “It’s not about me.” It was a time of confronting my own selfish desires and refocusing my attention on the greatness of the Father. Through his grace we are able to “give thanks in all circumstances,” not grudgingly and not in spite of circumstances, but because of his goodness.

“Praise the L, O my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name
Praise the L, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits”
Psalm 103

Random, Quite Random

If you know me very well, you probably know that I can be kind of random. So here’s a bunch of random, completely unrelated thoughts and observations...

- Should I be disturbed that I am starting to feel at home in a country in which I don’t even know how to say the colors?

- Sometimes old Chinese men wear big, dark glasses and when they stare at you they look just like the Godfather. Scary, I know.

- A group of my students got 2nd place at a school-wide English short-play competition. I feel like a proud parent.

- Yesterday Christina and I made this amazing pre-Thanksgiving dinner. Admittedly, it was good. And it was southern: BBQ chicken, sweet potatoes, peas, angel biscuits, pumpkin pie, and sweet tea. The biscuits were a little weird (no shortening in China), but the sweet potatoes were almost as good as when my aunt Kay makes them.

- The best part of Thanksgiving is after the meal and the hour of washing dishes when you settle back with coffee and another piece of pumpkin pie. I’ll miss that.

- I think living in China has made me more confident. For one thing, when almost every person who walks by you gives you the stare-down, you have to learn to just stare back.

- I think I’m more self-conscious and less self-conscious at the same time. I realize that people are watching me every where I go. I also realize that I can do pretty much whatever I want and it gets chalked off to being a crazy foreigner.

- Tip of the day: Bubble-wrap works great for sealing holes in walls.

- Whereas I think, “it would be sweet to have a dryer,” my students are awed and amazed that I have a washing machine. They wish they didn’t have to wash clothes by hand.

- I think that when I go back to America I’ll be really confused about being in a country where you can drink water from the sink and flush toilet paper and wear shoes inside.

- I’m going to Xian (think terra-cotta warriors) this week, and I’m not sure who is more excited: me, or my students when I told them about it!

When You Walk

This verse was brought to me this morning as an encouragement.

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name;
You are mine.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;
The flames will not set you ablaze.”
(Isaiah 43:1-2)

It struck me that in each of the verses it does not say “if” but “when.” When you pass through the waters—because you will. Life is hard. If we count on that and expect it, the rivers and flames will not surprise us. But we don’t have to fear it. In the midst of the fire, if we take a moment to forget about the flames we see all around us, we will notice that we aren’t getting burned.

A Word about Strength

Excerpts from an Amy Carmichael poem I was reading today which challenged me to ask not for an easier life but for a stronger self.

From [thought] that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher,
From silken self, O Captain, free
Thy soldier who would follow Thee.

Give me love that leads the way
Faith that nothing can dismay,
The hope no disappointments tire,
The passion that will burn like fire...

Adjusting

One of my teammate’s mom is visiting. This is the first time she’s been to China, and it’s interesting to try to look back and see things from her perspective. It seems like ages ago that I was walking on the streets for the first time, marveling at all the crazy things to see. Was it really only 3 and ½ months ago?

While I’m still constantly adjusting and adapting and learning to deal with a new culture, I am amazed to think about the things I already have gotten used to. For example, the incessant noises of China have grown quieter in my ears. I don’t notice the bus driver honking every 15 seconds to warn a taxi or motorist or bicycle or pedestrian or dog he is coming through. The little carts still drive behind my house several times a day with their banging pots, squeaking announcements, or shrill tunes, but it doesn’t generally register in my conscious mind. I rarely want to scream at students who are yelling outside my window early in the morning. I don’t mind the loudspeaker announcements too much unless I am trying to play music (the loudspeaker always wins).

And some situations that don’t baffle me as much. I’m not afraid to make left turns on my bicycle because I’ve finally figured out the left-turn arrow. It used to look like chaos and free-for-all, and now I realize that it is – you just have to claim your right of way and dodge the buses. I’ve learned that if a vested lady is guarding the bicycle parking lot, you pay her 2 mao. I know where to make copies and can communicate just enough that I’m not afraid of it any more. I almost don’t notice the stares and gasps and pointing as much. Almost.

When I was sitting in my bedroom today, I realized my apartment felt like home. It is as comfortable and familiar as my accommodations in the US (only it’s bigger and colder). I feel settled. When I travel, I think I will experience the discomfort of leaving and the warmth of returning home.

The neighbors still shoot off fireworks every few days that sound like war has broken out inside my apartment. That still gives me a headache. Some days I still come to class and find out none of the students have the copies that were supposed to be made for them, and I have to quickly change half my lesson. I still get annoyed. I still get grossed out at seeing people blowing their noses onto the ground. And I still have no clue what the cute old lady is trying to say to me, but thinking back, it’s amazing how far I’ve come!

Who is an American?

By guest writer, Christina Kelso. Christina is my teammate who has been in China for 5 years. She teaches sophmore and junior students a class about Western history and culture. She also graduated from Asbury College. :)

Who is an American?
This is a question that my students and I tried to answer last week in class. As the students are sophomore and junior English majors, I felt they would have picked up some basics on how to tackle this question but the more I delved into it, the more I kept coming against a brick wall.

I started by asking my students to discuss a sub-question for a couple of minutes with a partner: How would you describe an American? (appearance, characteristics, values, beliefs) Now I realize that this is not an easy question to answer concretely or maybe even at all—and that was exactly my purpose in this exercise. When the time was up, I asked my students to tell me what they discussed. What about appearance? Most students replied that Americans had blonde hair and blue eyes. The ironic part is that they say this as they are looking at me with my dark brown hair and brown eyes. In their defense many of them do not consider me to be truly American because my mother is Chinese. Yet am I not still American? I mention this to them and they laugh, then correct themselves and say that Americans have all colors. Someone usually also points out that Americans are all tall. Again I ask them if I’m tall (I’m not quite 5’4”). They again laugh and correct the statement to say American boys are tall. I ask if Tom Cruise is American and if he is tall? Again, laughter.

I feel I’m making my point that you can’t pinpoint exactly what Americans look like, so we move on to the other categories. For characteristics and values, they seem to be a little closer in things that would describe many Americans—independent, active, open-minded, and valuing privacy, individualism, and money. In beliefs, they said most Americans are Christians. Which lead to a discussion between “believing in the existence of” and “believing in.”

These students have had at least 3 different American foreign teachers in the college experience. So after we have discussed how to answer the question and how hard it is to answer, I ask them if their 3 teachers were similar. Most of them say, “No, very different.” I remarked that to answer the question, “Who is an American?” is impossible because Americans have come from all over the world for many different reasons and have mixed together to form what is called the United States of America.

To end this section, I put up a PowerPoint slide with pictures of different Americans and tell the students there is one person pictured who is not American and ask them to choose who it is, keeping in mind all the things we had just talked about. Most of the students automatically pick out the Japanese-American man, the Chinese-American lady, the Mexican-American girl, the Eskimo woman, and the African-American boy. After again reminding them of what we talked about, I ask the students to choose their top 3 guesses—they usually chose the Japanese-American, the Chinese-American and the Mexican-American. I tell them that they were all wrong. These three all are American, in fact the Japanese man’s family have been in America longer than any of my family line—apart from some very, very, very distant relatives who fought in the Civil War. I point out the girl who is not American. She has blonde hair and blue eyes (she’s from Norway). All the students start exclaiming that it was impossible, it was a trick because there was no way they would know that.
I smiled and say, “Exactly.”

Happy Singles Day

I am excited to announce that today is Singles Day in China! That’s right, not Singles Awareness Day (aka Valentines), but a day celebrating all those singles out there. I knew this country was smart! I don’t know much about it except it has to do with all the 1’s in 11/11. In honor of this blessed day, Christina (the other single of the team) and I compiled a list entitled “The Advantages of Being Single.” I have to say, the married couples were able to add a number of ideas as well. J

1. You can choose your own curtain designs.
2. In fact, you can decorate your whole apartment however you want.
3. You only have half the grocery bags.
4. And you don’t have to buy diapers.
5. You can sprawl out over the whole bed.
6. You get to hog your own covers.
7. You can watch all the girly movies you want.
8. Making and eating real meals are not necessary.
9. You can eat the whole carton of ice cream.
10. There’s just a lot less sharing in general.
11. You can live at your own pace.
12. For example, no one is waiting at the door while you finish your conversation.
13. And you don’t have to wait around at the ping-pong outfitter or sports-shoe store.
14. You don’t have to shave in the winter.
15. You can spend your $ however you want.
16. There’s no in-laws.
17. You can have alone time practically whenever you want.
18. No one complains that you haven’t washed the dishes.
19. You don’t have to let someone know before you go out or rush to be back by a certain time.
20. You never have to “check with your husband.”

Granted, they’re all kind of selfish reasons, but we enjoy them. J It’s not always fun being alone in a foreign land, but today we would like to celebrate our singleness. America needs a holiday like this.

(Christina and I are happy and carefree. The couples are sad and wish they could celebrate too. :)

Play Competition

Six of my junior girls have been working on a short English play for a school-wide competition. They have come over to my apartment several times in the past month or so to practice and get help with pronunciation and grammar. One of the girls wrote the play.

It is about a girl who has a heart disease and is sad because she is not able to do all the things she wants. One night, an angel and a demon come to her in a dream. The demon convinces her to sell her soul for one night of health and freedom. She is happy for her wish to finally come true, but she realizes that morning will bring her death. She mourns the choice she has made because she realizes she could have lived a full life, even with the illness. The playwright wrote partly from personal experience – she has had three heart surgeries and feels the limitations of her body.

This afternoon the play competition was held on our campus. 26 different campuses of Yangzhou University were participating in the competition. The girls spent the afternoon at my apartment practicing and preparing. I was a bit concerned when I went to watch them perform because they said there were about 40 groups performing. The contest started at 4pm and would probably last for about five hours. I really didn’t want to sit through five hours of plays. Fortunately, my students’ performance was only about an hour into the contest.

It was interesting to see the other performances before theirs. Many of them involved dancing to or singing “popular” American music, which was pretty funny. Even though the plays were in English, the themes were decidedly Chinese. In one play students were visited by a video game character who made them realize the importance of focusing on studies. I think almost every play mentioned the CET-4, the standardized English test that all the students have to pass. Most at least touched on the importance of dedication to family and obedience to parents.

One play talked about a girl whose family were poor farmers working very hard to pay for her college education. She felt out of place among her peers because she was the only one without a mobile phone, so she wrote her family saying she really needed a computer for school. When they sent money she went and bought a mobile phone so she could fit in, but then she found out that her father had worked so hard he was very ill. She rushed home very guilty and repentant, and her family was shocked at her frivolous purchase they had worked so hard for.

I thought the play was interesting, but then I realized that one of the judges and several observers were wiping tears from their eyes. To me it was interesting, but I guess to other people it was real life. I realized that even though they were speaking the language I can understand, I was as far as ever from really understanding Chinese life.

Trying to Explain

Sometimes it’s difficult to explain the things that are hard about living in China. I feel separated by people not so much by distance or time but by experiences. I can describe what happens to me – the funny stories, the sad thoughts, the interesting and intriguing parts of life – but it never seems quite adequate. It’s like sitting down to draw a picture of the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen and ending up with a smiley-faced stick figure.

I hear the muffled voices of students as they walk past my apartment, and sometimes I think that I understand what they are saying. It seems like I should understand—if I could just hear them a little more clearly—it seems like they are speaking English. But of course they aren’t, and even if I could hear I wouldn’t understand.

My life here falls into routine and seems quite normal to me. But sometimes all of a sudden I realize I am in China. What am I doing in China? How did I get here and whose life am I living? Six months ago I was still a college student; how can life change so completely so quickly?

My students are constantly asking questions about America and what it is like. It seems like I’m always talking about America, but only in the general sense. Whenever I actually think about America – not just the country and culture but my America – it is always a startlingly clear picture that catches me off guard. I remember that right about now there would be Canadian geese flying over. I can picture standing outside in the dusky fall evening and looking through the brown and yellow leaves and hearing their noise. I can tell students about Canadian geese, but they can’t understand that Canadian geese remind me of everything I love about autumn.

If you’ve never been in a place where 1.3 billion people look the same and you look different, how can you understand what it’s like to see another foreigner? Occasionally I do see another foreigner, and I stare at them as much as the Chinese. It doesn’t much matter where they are from: Germany or Australia or Ghana. In China there are only two kinds of people: Chinese and foreigners. It’s hard to understand what that’s like when even in Snellville, Georgia, you can walk into a store and see Caucasians from every racial background, Hispanics, African-Americans, Indians, Asian-Americans, Africans, and Middle-Easterners. Everyone had different colored hair and different clothes and even different languages. In a country where 1.3 billion people have black hair (okay, a few dye their hair, but mostly), even medium brown hair stands out.

And then too, sometimes it’s hard to explain how much little moments mean. When your apartment is crowded with students who are laughing and talking and being themselves because they are comfortable around you. When a student says, “We may have language barriers, but we have warm hearts.” When a student doesn’t ask, “Do you like China? Do you like sports?” but instead asks, “Do you feel a generation gap between you and your parents? Do you feel lonely sometimes?” You realize that for a moment they are not seeing you as a foreigner or an American or an English machine but just as a person.

Today in class we were talking about apologies and forgiveness. I told my students the story about the son who left his father and brought shame upon his family by wasting all his inheritance. When I told about how the father was able to forgive his son because he loved him so much, several of the students had tears in their eyes. And I thought, wow. I’m really glad to be here.

"A duck in my backpack"

Okay, here is my story from today. Last night one of my students called and said she wanted to bring some food over for us to eat lunch together today. She said she would bring some famous food from her hometown. Today she was very excited in class and said that she and a couple of friends (other students of mine) would meet me after class.

After class I met them in the hall. “I have brought a duck!” She said, patting her bag, “I have a duck in my backpack!” As I stare at her in amazement, my thoughts start flying.

A duck. She has a duck in her backpack. I should start a list of sentences I never expect to hear. She has had a duck in her backpack for 4 hours of class! I’ve seen big slabs of meat sitting out on the side of the road, left in the open air all day, and my first thought is, “Oh God, don’t let us die!” I try to picture the duck that she is cradling in her backpack. Does it still have the head and feet? Will we have to pluck the feathers off? Who knows.

We rode the bus back to the main campus and she talked about duck all the way. Picture the scene in Forest Gump related to shrimp. No, not quite that much, but it was still funny. When we stopped at a restaurant to get rice, she pulled out the duck to show me. “See, it is sealed so no air gets in. It can keep for eight hours.” Okay, I feel better about that. Plus, I find out the duck is already cooked. We just have to bring it back to the apartment to chop it up. We pull out the cleaver and my students set to work. In the end several plates are piled with duck meat (and duck bones and neck and head – but no feet or feathers!) The meat was really good, and I don’t think I’ll die. I also don’t think I’ll forget her standing in the door of the classroom saying, “I have a duck! I have a duck in my backpack!”

Partying American Style

I just had the most amazing Halloween party! I dressed up like a crazy woman (that wouldn’t require much of an outfit, you might say). True, but this was even crazier than normal. I’m not quite sure what I was (inspired by a masquerade), but it was something scary.

I invited my freshmen class from this campus. They loved the outfit. When I answered the door they gasped and laughed and clasped their hearts, then watched with anticipation for the next group to knock at the door. The best was when I answered the door and one girl actually screamed! Definitely worth it. They probably would have thought it was worth it just to come and see their crazy English teacher looking like a madwoman (I don’t think they’ll ever look at me the same in class…), but I wanted them to be able to dress up in some way too. I had supplies for them to make their own masks, which they all dove into with enthusiasm, laughing at each other and taking pictures. Many of the students wear glasses, so they were trying to figure out how to put their glasses on over the masks, which looked pretty hilarious.

I had a lot of candy (China candy – not my favorite, but the students devoured it) and cookies and apple and orange Tang. After the students had eaten and made their masks and I explained about the history of Halloween and how it is celebrated in America (starring pictures of Allison as Little Bo Peep and Molly as Fiona), we had a mummifying contest.

I bought a big package of TP and gave several rolls to each group. Each group chose a member to mummify and then tried to cover them as quickly and effectively as possible. Then I made them get together for a picture, which required some hopping (if their legs were bandaged) or being led (if their face was swathed) across the room.

The other teachers were having Halloween parties too. The whole building was bursting with laughter and screaming and squealing. I think the students had a good time. All the students had to get a picture with me on their camera phones. I’m never going to live this down. Then I got Matt to come across the hall and take a group picture. When he came in, all the girls squealed because they hadn’t yet seen a foreign guy. I explained that he had a wife, and then he took our picture. When the students piled out, my floor was covered with TP, candy wrappers, spilled drinks, and scraps of paper. Definitely the scene of a good time.

Leafy-Green Soup

I would just like to say that I had probably the healthiest meal EVER tonight. I went with some friends to the cafeteria for dinner and had vegetable soup. There were no carrots or corn or alphabet shapes, however. On the second floor of the cafeteria you decide what you want and they cook it for you. There were four different kinds of dark green, leafy vegetables and they grabbed a handful of each, boiled them for about 30 seconds, then added some watery broth. I'm telling you - health nuts would have freaked out! And the crazy thing was, it was really good. Much better than the first floor rice-porridge I was barely able to choke down last week. I'll have to try it again soon.

Interesting Links

Hey guys, if you are interested in learning some different things about China or getting some new perspectives, I would recommend that you check out these blogs.

Joanne is my heroine. In fact, I'm thinking about starting a fan club. :) She has been in China with my organization for a bunch of years and works in Beijing. At training she taught us about Chinese culture and history, and it was fascinating. Her blog is fascinating too, and I think you would enjoy it: www.outside-in.typepad.com.

Andy is my teammate, the husband of Katrina and dad of Logan. He also has a blog with some interesting stories and pictures: http://spaces.msn.com/members/ebugle.

Sometimes I get bored of hearing myself talk (or reading my writing), so surely you do too. :)

Thoughts on Life

“Most of life is so dull that there is nothing to be said about it, and the books and talk that would describe it as interesting are obliged to exaggerate, in the hope of justifying their own existence…there are periods in the most thrilling day during which nothing happens, and though we continue to exclaim, ‘I do enjoy myself,’ or, ‘I am horrified,’ we are insincere.”

I am still young enough to think that every moment of life should be full of interest or excitement or difficulty. I still believe the books and movies that condense all of life into a few hours of constant action where every moment holds significant meaning. I wonder at the emptiness of some moments, when mopping the floor or grading papers seems so mundane. Even the very things that I am here for – teaching, getting to know students, and all that – are sometimes boring. Even the most exciting adventures are made up of ordinary moments.

Maybe you think that life is different for me because I am in China. I am across the world in a fascinating, exotic place. Maybe you think that because I am doing something that seems meaningful or adventuresome or exciting that I live in constant awareness of life’s significance. Maybe you even think sometimes, “I wish I were doing something like that instead of whatever mundane thing I am doing right now. Life would be so much more interesting.” I often think that about other people, but now that I am doing something exciting and adventurous, I realize it’s just not true.

What seems more real than the great adventure I am living is the frustration at not being able to find the butter. I can think about my distant, ethereal “love” for the Chinese people in a warm-fuzzy, glazed eye sort of way until I see the man picking his nose right in front of me. Gross. Standing between me and the brilliant, meaningful, thought provoking class times I imagine are hours of lesson planning, grading student work, and trying to figure out how to make copies. Sometimes I eat delicious Chinese food and other times I scrounge around in my kitchen and all I come up with is a PBJ.

Life is more like a 9 hour long documentary than a 15 minute travelogue. It’s hard to not be frustrated with myself that I do not “feel the excitement” of living in China. But really, this is what most of life is like. No soundtrack. No two hour time frame. No stunning scenery in the background. No stunt-men jumping off of waterfalls. Just life, moving slowly, moving quickly, where most of the meaning is found in the invisible realms.

[The quote is from A Passage to India by E.M. Forster. It’s a depressing book about the British in India. If there is anything I don’t want my cultural relations to look like, it is probably the British in India.]

Truth and Happiness

Every week at the beginning of my junior class, we start out by discussing a quote. I kind of love quotes, so I have fun with this activity. Today I presented them with two quotes:
“Where ignorance is bliss/’Tis folly to be wise.”
and
“The truth will set you free.”
I asked them what they thought about the two quotes, if they agreed with one more than the other. Most of the students said it is better not to know. Sometimes knowledge can hurt you or another person. Sometimes knowing can bring suffering. It’s better to be happy. One student said, “but sometimes you can’t escape from the truth.” Another said it is better to know the truth because it allows us to change.

It reminded me of something I heard a Duke psychologist say at a Veritas Forum at UK last year, and I shared it with the students. He said that in current society, we are inclined to think that happiness should be our normal state of being. We should always be happy, and if we are unhappy, we should try to get back to happiness as soon as possible. But we aren’t supposed to always be happy. Sometimes we should look around at the things going on in the world, and we should be disturbed by them. We might try to find a “quick fix” for unhappiness – medication, addiction, pleasure – when really we need to change something in our lives or in the world. Unhappiness motivates us to make positive change.

Anyway, it made for interesting conversation. I don’t know if it made the students think, but I know I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Sometimes you can't escape from the truth...hmm.

Interesting Facts and Trivia

Interesting China Info (from ZG Briefs, www.zgbriefs.com)
*The national quality standards regulator issued rules for the production of wood and bamboo disposable chopsticks on Monday. The standards aim to ensure product quality and save wood, said a Standardization Administration of China official at a press conference in Beijing. According to the rules, wood disposable chopsticks can only be made of birch, poplar and other widely planted trees and they encourage makers to use bamboo, which grows much faster than trees. Li Zhonghai, head of the SAC, said that as most disposable chopsticks in China are made of leftover materials from the lumber industry, it is not necessary to completely ban their production and use. China produces around 45 billion pairs of chopsticks a year, of which 60 percent are exported overseas.
- National Chopsticks Standards Issued (October 12, 2005, Xinhua)

*China's second manned spacecraft launched on October 11th and is planned to last 5 days.
*2008 Beijing Olympics are predicted to produce 1.8 million jobs in the city.
*Due to longer life expectancy (71.8 years) and the one child policy, more than 10% of China's population (1.3 billion) is over 60.

Other Random Info (from www.on-this-day.com and www.thefreedictionary.com)
On this day in history...
*Noah Webster was born.
*Marie Antoinette was beheaded.
*Ether was used for the first time.
*The Chinese "Long March" began.

Hairy Beans

I made my first Chinese food! Be excited. It is called "mao dou," literally, hairy beans. Let me tell you how it's done.

Step 1: Buy hairy beans from the lady on the street who keeps talking to you in Chinese even though you are obviously clueless.
Step 2: Boil water in your electric wok.
Step 3: Add some salt, enough to make a "semi-saturated salt solution" (the words of Christina, the science major)
Step 4: Dump in beans.
Step 5: Boil for a while, say long enough to write a postcard, eat a cookie, and call about getting more water from the water guy.
Step 6: Drain (being careful not to spill boiling water all over the floor while carrying to the sink) and eat!

I'm pretty talented, huh? Six steps, and I didn't even mess it up!
The beans are really fun to eat. You suck the hairy, salty outsides, and you eat the little peas from the inside.

Funny and Not So Funny Stories

Funny Story
Corrine and I biked over to the Hui restaurant for takeout rice lunches. We also stopped at the Taiwanese restaurant next door and got chocolate milk teas. Milk tea is my new favorite drink, especially since the restaurant is conveniently located right outside the north gate of campus. Then we biked around the corner to the park because it is a beautiful sunny day and I am craving outside time. We found a bench and were all ready to eat when I realized that my chopsticks had slipped out of the bag at some point. You may think that eating rice with chopsticks is difficult, but you should try eating rice without chopsticks. It wasn't working at all. I decided to use the straws from our milk teas in lieu of chopsticks. It looked pretty funny, scooping up rice with one fat pink straw and one skinny blue one, but it actually worked.

Not So Funny Story
So after we finished eating we went back outside the park where we had left our bikes. When I went to unlock my bike, I realized that the lock had been drilled into. The place where the key was supposed to go was now a little drilled hole still filled with metal shavings. The lock was still on the bike, but now the key wouldn't go in to unlock it. I struggled with the lock for a few minutes and then a man came up and started working on it. After about five minutes, he finally got a rock and used it to hammer the key all the way in, and then the lock opened. I was grateful for that, but still perturbed. What is it with people trying to steal my bike?!?

Bicycle Rush Hour

This evening I got caught in bicycle rush hour. This rush hour is a bit more flexible than on Atlanta highways: there’s no gridlock, just general chaos. As I was threading my way through the crowds I started laughing because I remembered a game that my sisters and I used to play on our bikes when we were little. It was called “almost but not quite,” a game in which we would ride around and almost run into each other or other obstacles but “not quite.” Little did I realize at the age of seven that I was being prepared for bike riding in China.

In the narrower roads in the middle of town they don’t bother with lane lines or necessarily riding on a certain side of the street. The sides of the road are filled food carts and parked bikes, so all the traffic crowds into the middle. The pavement is bumpy so bikes are bouncing all over the place, narrowly avoiding people, bikes, and dogs. Every so often a car or bus will plow through the middle creating even more bedlam.

I passed a school where parents were crowded around the gate on their bicycles and motorbikes waiting to pick up their children. Little groups of kids giggled and played as they walked down the street toward home. I turned down a side street that was more like a little alley or corridor. The path was stone like the traditional Chinese, one-story homes and courtyards on either side. People sat on their steps or squatted on the edge of the street, visiting, preparing dinner, reading the paper, or just sitting. Dusk was just beginning to overtake the sunlight, and now was the time to relax. I passed by the old home where Hudson Taylor used to live over 100 years ago. This is old China. There are few roads like this left, and they belong to the past.

The Grand Canal

Yesterday morning Corrine and I took a long bike ride across town to see the Grand Canal. You may not have heard of the Grand Canal, but it is the world’s longest canal. Once over 1000 miles long, it stretched from Beijing in the north to Hangzhou, just south of Shanghai. Only the southern part of the canal is still navigable. The first section of the canal was finished in 495BC, but the full length was not completed until well into the 14th century. Still, it’s a pretty old canal.

This section of the Grand Canal runs just east of Yangzhou. It’s not outside of town; the city never seems to really end. The center of town is the older, more crowded part. The buildings are small, and the streets are narrow and overhung by trees. Toward the outside of town, the buildings are taller and newer. Not newer in the sense of bright and clean, but new in a dirty, unfinished sort of way, like a new subdivision with lots of mud and not enough trees. We passed some huge, ugly buildings – blank, imposing blocks of space. The streets are wider and more open because there are no trees. The sky is bigger but is gray and hazy.

One day I plan to ride my bicycle for hours until I find the end of the city, but yesterday we just went as far as the Grand Canal. A four lane steel bridge crossed the canal. The canal reminded me of the Mississippi River at a narrower part, and it was definitely as dirty. On one side we saw empty barges being scraped down and repaired. Other barges were being loaded with coal. On the far side of the river, a line of boats rested at the edge of the water. The boats were strung with clothes and household goods; obviously they were used for homes as well as livelihood. From inside one boat we could glimpse the bare feet of a sleeping man, and on another boat, a toddler played on deck, safely wrapped in a lifejacket. The people stared up from their boats in wonder. We looked down on them from our vantage point on the bridge and felt very far away.

(See more pictures at www.flickr.com/photos/ruthiemarie)

Reflections

This week has been blissfully quiet. It is the week of National Holiday, and most of the students have gone home to exchange their summer clothes for winter wear. There are still some students on campus, but no loudspeakers, no waves of students swarming by on their way to classes or the dining hall, and much fewer motorbikes and cars.

This week with the quiet and the extra time (no classes!), I have been doing a lot of thinking. In this past month, I have been basically in the business of survival. But now that I can get around the grocery store, know how slowly I need to talk for my students to understand me, and have purchased all the basic office supplies, my mind is beginning to turn to more important things.

How do I assess my student’s learning? Am I spending too much time with the other foreigners? How can I get to know my students better? What am I supposed to be reading for that master’s degree? Should I be cooking more vegetables? And how am I going to get past my 3-word Chinese vocabulary? Shouldn’t I be more effective than this?

Some people are afraid because they wonder if life has a purpose, if they are here for a reason. Right now I am afraid because my life seems to have too much purpose. I’m not sure if it’s pride or foolish insanity, but I keep trying to put the responsibility of the world on my shoulders. Yes, I am here for a reason, but it has nothing to do with how much "effectiveness" I can work up. I just have to keep telling myself that.

The One who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.

Hot Pot

The first days of October have definitely ushered in the fall. We seemed to have skipped over the mild, pleasant days and plunged right into the cold. Today was cold and windy, with a gray rain settling over the city. It was the perfect day for my first hot-pot experience. Hot pot is a much enjoyed Chinese meal that is great for the wintertime. The team bundled into taxis and headed over to “the best hot-pot restaurant in town” (according to them-I wouldn’t know). Each person gets a little pot of soup over a flaming sterno-type can and cooks their food right in front of them. We ordered a variety of meats and vegetables, plus noodles, tofu, and manto (a sweet bread type thing). The meats are all raw strips that cook really quickly in the pot. It just occured to me that probably grabbing raw meat with wooden chopsticks and then eating with the same chopsticks is probably not all that sanitary. But you can’t think of things like that at the time. You put whatever you want into your pot to cook it, then dip it into some type of vinegar sauce before eating. Hot pot is a bit more expensive than our normal fare (it was about $5 instead of $1), but the chopstick fingers get a good workout and the whole process requires you to sit back and enjoy the time spent eating. Since the whole meal is eaten over a steaming pot of boiling soup, it provides a cozy atmosphere for a dark, rainy evening.

The first picture shows the cooking pot with some of the uncooked dishes in the background. The second picture shows the pile of duck heads that were on a cart near our table. We did not order those. But I just had to show you. :)

Or Star--come out--within--

Tonight I saw two stars,
the first I’ve seen in China.
You have to get to a place that is very dark
and you have to be looking up.

I stared and I stared at the sky,
and I thought I could see more.
They were so faint they seemed to disappear
before I could find them,

but not before I remembered
that there are stars.

I was afraid
of pain and grief, shuttered at deformity-
afraid that darkness would finally win.
Then I saw two stars.

(blog title from Emily Dickinson)

Turning from a Rose Colored World

Once I bought a pair of sunglasses with pink lenses because I thought it would be cool to have rose colored glasses. I am realizing recently that I am an optimist. I see the world the way I want it to be. I like to tell you about all the funny stories and show the beautiful pictures. I want you to think of China as a magical place. Maybe I want to think of China as beautiful and enchanted. But sometimes it’s not.

The other day when I visited my student’s house, it reminded me of the housing projects I visited in Nashville. Her family is rich. Her mom travels around the world with her job. All of my students are well off. Only the top class makes it this far – the ones who are smart and have good test scores or have parents to pay their way. And yet their neighborhoods look like our ghettos.

Today I rode my bike in a different area of town. I turned down a road off the main street. It was so dusty that I had to keep rubbing my eyes. When I looked into the faces of the people who stared at me, they were hardened by life. Several factories billowed smoke. I blew my nose when I came home and the Kleenex turned black. I kept riding and the road turned to mud. I watched muscles bulge out of thin legs that strained to pull carts piled with wood or bricks or debris. Under a bridge sat a woman who stared senselessly past me, and behind a fence I saw dirty tents set up by the canal. I was scared. I just wanted it to end. I don’t want life to be like this. I want to put on my pink sunglasses and stay on the main road. With my students I have a connection. We watch TV and listen to popular music and e-mail our friends, and they have eaten at McDonalds before. We inhabit the same world. But these people…even as I was riding through, our worlds did not meet. I just looked and then I left. I turned the corner and was back on the main road, headed back to the safety of my modernizing world.

Here in Yangzhou, babies are abandoned. Old people die because they can’t get medicine. What happens to the homeless when cold weather come? I am in China, but I’m still in my own world. I can afford McDonalds. I have a whole air-conditioned apartment to myself. I graduated from college and traveled across the world. How can I ever relate to “the least of these?” I don’t even know how to respond to a beggar on the street.

One of my favorite authors, Amy Carmichael heard the question this way: “Many follow…unto the breaking of bread, but few unto the drinking of the cup of the passion; art thou willing to drink of that cup, and to drink it unto the end?... Art thou willing to turn from all that would dull thine ear to the voice of thy brother’s blood that crieth unto Me from the ground?”

Photos

I have some additional photos at www.flickr.com/photos/ruthiemarie. You can check it out if you are interested...

1-800-foreigner

I keep forgetting to take the “I’m a foreigner – please come bug me for English lessons” sign off my back. I must say, I have never before had so many guys beg me for my phone number. I’m used to people being curious, but some are a bit more forceful than others.

This weekend when I was biking through town, a middle aged man on a motorbike followed me through town. “Where are you from? What are you doing here?” I talked to him for a minute or two and then biked on. He stayed right beside me. “My daughter is in university. I want her to improve her English. What does she have to do to study in America?” How would I know? At the next intersection, he cornered me again. “How can I get in touch with you? Let me give you my phone number. Can I have your information?” Funny, but I can never remember my phone number in these kind of situations…

Yesterday at RT Mart, in the milk and yogurt aisle, I saw two young guys coming toward me with the “swoop down on the foreigner” glow in their eyes. I was too tired to make a quick get away. “Hello. Where are you from? You have beautiful eyes. What are you doing here? You teach at Yangzhou? We are students there!” They were actually okay though. Friendly, but not aggressive.

I have a hard time with the aggressive types. Like the guy who cornered me when I was coming home and begged me for a good five or ten minutes to teach him better English. Chinese culture is traditionally indirect, so technically all the “well, I’m pretty busy…I’ve got about 200 students of my own…I’d have to see…” should have clued him in. But he was insistent. “You only have 5 classes? So you have lots of free time! What do you do? Shop? Party? You could teach me English.” Okay, you caught me. Basically all I do is party. I finally got his e-mail address and told him I would e-mail him if I had free time. If I get tired of the partying.

My 6 and 1/2 acres

I’ve gotten into this whole insomnia thing. Like last night I was so tired but was wide awake until 2am. Besides thinking about how I was going to have to get up for teaching in four hours, I started thinking about how quiet it was. For a while I was waking up at 4am, and the only thing I appreciated about that was listening to the silence. In a country of 3+ billion people, there’s not a lot of silence.

The other day, all the noise started to bother me. It’s sort of like a perpetual headache lingering around and waiting to blow up to the surface. On the little road/sidewalk behind my apartment, bicycle carts drive by banging on pots or playing shrill recordings to get people’s attention. Right in front of my apartment is a campus road that is always full of bicycles and motorbikes (which have notoriously squeaky breaks) and sometimes cars or buses or trucks (which have to lay on their horns the whole way through). Besides the vehicular noise is the general noise of being in the middle of a college campus. It reminds me a little bit of living in a dorm. Students are talking and yelling and playing music from 6am to midnight. The nearby campus loudspeakers blare music and announcements every day at 6am, noon, and 5pm, for a half an hour to an hour each time. The windows and doors and walls hardly provide insulation from the sounds outside. Sometimes I can’t tell if my windows are open or closed.

I was thinking about my home in Georgia. When I showed pictures to my students, they were most amazed by all the space around our house. We have 6 and ½ acres of land all to ourselves. In China, that is unimaginable.

If I think about the area surrounding my apartment, what would be about 6 and ½ acres, there are about 6 apartment buildings (about 6 stories high, a good 50 families in each), 4 dormitories (at 6 students per room, say 800 students per dorm?), a road, a canal, a campus store, and several hundred bikes. That’s somewhere around 5000 people living in the space that my family has all to itself. Little wonder it’s noisy.

My Second Bike

They didn’t call it World War I at the time, because they didn’t think there would be a second one. When I talked about my first bike, I wasn’t really implying that there needed to be a second one. At least not so soon.

I don’t think I mentioned, but my first bike got stolen. Yes, she was in my care for less than a week and then one night disappeared from in front of the building. Bike theft is a common problem in China. Particularly (my teammate said) around this time of year when freshmen are coming in and buying lots of new bikes. So after a really long time (at least a week – it seemed long) of being bikeless, I am finally back on the road again. My new bike is a more conservative (and hopefully less stand-out-ish) dark blue. It appears to be slightly better quality (the previous chain kept falling off at inopportune times – like in the middle of a big intersection), but it was still about the same price (around $30 US). The brand name is Phineas, which I think is a good name for a brand. (Phineas was the main character in A Separate Peace, which I just finished reading). (Wow, I need to lay off the parentheses thing.)

Actually, I have decided to call my bike Tess. Firstly, because I was thinking that I enjoy having a bike almost as much as I liked having a car, and my car’s name was Tilly – similar. Secondly, it made me think of Tess of the D’Urbervilles, which isn’t related to much of anything except that I liked the book. Thirdly, and mainly, “tess” is part of “tesseract,” so it seemed appropriate for a mode of transportation. In case you haven’t read A Wrinkle in Time (tisk, tisk), tesseract is a dimension of space in which the fastest way to get from point A to point B is to bring the two points together. A tesseract is the wrinkling of time to bring the two points together.

So now Tess is resting quietly in my office/storage room. I think I will keep her inside until the main season of thievery is over. I like that I managed to bring in references to three different books, which all happened to be related to my bike. She must be a literary bicycle. Here is a picture of Tess in my messy office.

The Day After Festival

Today in class the students seemed to be feeling the affects of yesterday's celebrations. Some were quite hungover, others just looked dazed and tired. And then of course there were the mysteriously absent ones. When I came into my second class, two guys were dead asleep. When I was calling roll several of the guys behind them tried to unsucessfully to shake them awake. I didn't want to cause a scene so I just left them alone for the first hour. At break I was finally able to summon them from their unconsciousness and tell them they could either participate in class or go back to their rooms and sleep, but sleeping in class was useless. After that they were able to rouse themselves enough to at least go through the motions.

I had fun in class today, though! The students were practicing giving advice so I had them pretend they were on a TV show. I always think things are more fun when dramatized, and they all started laughing when I used my water bottle as a microphone - and made them pretend it was one too. I think most of them enjoyed being involved and getting the chance to "perform."

After class one of my students invited me to have lunch with her. So I went with her over to her aunt's house (she lives in town). It was really fun to be in a Chinese home and to get to hang out with my student and her family. They were very welcoming and fun, and the aunt made the most amazing pork-chop sort of things I've ever had. They wouldn't let me leave before they gave me - ah yes - more moon cakes. I'm trying to figure out how to incorporate moon cake prizes into my lesson tomorrow...

Celebrating Chinese Style

This is a holiday weekend in China. Today is the fall equinox, and the Chinese are celebrating their Mid Autumn Festival. The festival is similar to American Thanksgiving, in that the focus is on spending time with family and eating together. The food of the day is moon cakes, which are little tasteless pastries filled with…well, I haven’t quite figured out yet. There are all different kinds, and some are more edible than others.

On Friday night I attended my first official Chinese banquet (the picture is of the team at the banquet). I’d heard all kinds of stories about what goes on at banquets, so I had been waiting in anticipation. A Chinese banquet involves lots of toasting and Chinese delicacies. I was instructed to stand when toasted, keep your glass lower than the other person's, take any food that is offered to you (with a poker face), and become skilled at "burying" food on your plate.
I was a little bit nervous about what would happen, but it really wasn’t bad. I did get to try pig’s ear (pretty edible), duck’s feet (mostly inedible), and jellyfish (crunchy and tasteless). Everything else was relatively normal, although there were definitely more heads, eyes, scales, and bones than we would see in America. They are just very comfortable with the fact that meat comes from animals – so why not put the whole animal out there? At the end, we were each presented with a box of moon cakes. The box looks pretty cool...

Last night I got to go to a Chinese party for all the foreign students and teachers. It was a long two hours. Erase the images that come to mind when you think of “party.” At a typical Chinese party, guests sit rather awkwardly around the edges of the room (eating moon cakes) while some form of entertainment is provided. Last year they said it was two hours of ping-pong. This year was karaoke.
Sorry to all the karaoke-fans out there; I have to say I’m not one of you. Just the thought of standing in front of a group of people I don’t know, in a situation that is already awkward, singing a song I don’t know makes me cringe. I look dumb in enough normal life situations; I don’t feel the need to bring it upon myself. There were games (which involved forcing unwilling people to sing) and disco music, complete with a head-throbbing strobe light. Those things should be outlawed.
The highlight of the evening, though, was watching Lucy, our foreign affairs officer. I have decided that she is a Chinese Audrey Hepburn (which is about the highest compliment I could give to a person). She is beautiful and petite and graceful, and I loved watching her dance around with her 4-year old son. When she left, we figured it was okay for us to make our escape as well.

Then tonight I went to yet another party. This was a dinner party held by some previous students of my teammate Katrina. The food was good, but (as one of the students told me) the parties are “not about the food but about the atmosphere.” The atmosphere was one of excitement and celebration which included numerous toasts, pictures with the foreigners, eating moon cakes (of course), and guys showing off how much they could drink. I imagine my students were partying in similar fashion, and I’m hoping some actually show up for class in the morning.
So yes, there’s partying in China. If I had one word to describe it, right now I think I would say “exhausting.”

A look at Chinese college students

At the end of the second week of classes, I have officially met all my students. Or at least, I have looked down at them over the rows of 45 unfamiliar faces. I find it rather strange and amazing that they look at me like the “foreign expert” I am supposed to be. I, on the other hand, feel like I’m just pretending. I stand in front of a class of students who are just a few years younger than myself and think, “I have nooo idea what I’m doing.”

These first days of classes have been mainly introductions and beginning activities. I tell them about my family and some of the things I like (e.g. giraffes), and they giggle and ask if I have a boyfriend or a husband. When I tell them I have three sisters, I wait for the collective intake of breath that always follows. I guess that is a little uncommon in China!

The freshmen are particularly cute. They seem much younger than college students in the US, and in some ways they are. In Chinese society, children focus almost exclusively on school and studying, and their parents tend to do everything else for them. Most of them were not allowed to date before college, have never had jobs, and have not done much on their own. Their behavior is similar to what we might see in middle school (although perhaps without the cruel edge).

For example, the guy-girl relations are particularly amusing. The majority of my students are girls, so there is a clearly defined male section in each class. Obviously a boy and a girl would not sit next to each other! I can hardly get them to talk to each other in the speaking activities – even with a protective desk in between.

Most of the freshmen have never had a foreign teacher before, so they are both excited and nervous. A few are so painfully shy that they can hardly look at me. If I call on them, they lose all ability to speak and look like they might faint. Most of the students are just moderately shy. Then there are a few of the outgoing, “in-the-spotlight” kind who try to answer every question, spend the break time asking pronunciation questions, and casually “mention” that they are best friends with every foreigner who has set foot in Yangzhou.

And I have to say a word about the English names. Interesting – that is the word I would say. Among my favorites are Seven, Fly, Air, Opal (a boy), Leaf, Kiki, and Yoyo. How to call role without laughing… Some of the names that appear to be most popular right now are Sky, Vivien, Helen, Selena, and Vicky. I think I have at least one in every class. I felt very successful when at the end of my last class, I had persuaded everyone to take a “normal” English name... “Maybe Echo could be a nickname, and you could choose another name for class.” And she did.

RT Mart and Interesting Observations about Eggs

Today after my morning classes, we took our team weekly run to RT Mart. RT is our local "walmart type" store. It has office supplies, clothes, bicycles, dishes, groceries, and most anything else you could possibly need. Today I needed to stock up on some basic grocery items since we are no longer eating out every single meal. First I headed over to the egg line.

As a past poultry-judger (please refer to your copy of Strange and Unusual Facts about Ruthie), the whole egg selling process is rather interesting to me. Piles of brown eggs are shipped to the stores in large crates. It's beyond me how they ever make it there alive, so to speak. Instead of grabbing a carton from the freezer section, you have to stand in a long line and wait for the Egg Lady to transfer eggs into plastic bags.
Wow, I just had this brilliant cultural insight. In America, we make sure the eggs are clean inside and out and we put each egg in it's own little private, padded compartment. Even our eggs have to have personal space! Does that seem silly to anyone else? Crazy Americans. In China, if 50 people can pack in a little city bus, 15 eggs can certainly be thrown in a bag together.

Anyway, after I buy the eggs, I think I should go for some rice. How can I claim to live in China and not have any rice in my posession? The rice scooped from large bins into large plastic sacks. Rice is very cheap. I got enough to last for at least several weeks and it was about 20 cents. I feel a compulsion to buy flour because it's such a basic ingredient. But what am I going to do with flour and an electric wok? If you have any ideas, let me know.

I can find some fun things in my city. Tops on my grocery list are:
1) Cheerios! They are a little expensive (American prices) and a little different because they are made by Nestlee, but they are pretty darn good.
2) Dove chocolate. Life is good.
3) Skim milk! Amazing, right? It even tastes pretty normal.
4) Ice cream. I hear it goes out of season once cool weather hits, so I'm trying to consume my year's share right now.
I can also find bread (not amazing but fine for sandwiches), ham, cheese (it doesn't exactly taste like cheese, but that's what it says), mayonaise, ketchup, peanut butter, yogurt (drinkable and pretty sour), spaghetti, oreos, and peanut m&m's! I am surprised at how many "western" foods are around. Some of the things vary in quantity or quality, and for all the recognizable things, I see twice as many unrecognizable items. I'm still pick up packages and study the back before I remember I can't read Chinese. I'm a compulsive reader, and it's hard to get used to being illiterate.

Probably the thing I miss most is good bread. I love bread. I would happily eat all the bread that the crazy Atkins people gave up. I miss good fluffy Southern biscuits and nutty-apple muffins and corn bread and 90-minute dinner rolls. I'm kind of lost without bisquick and baking soda or yeast. If you ever want to send a care package, you could wander down that beautiful isle with all the jiffy corn bread and betty crocker muffin and bisquick biscuit mixes. They somehow missed that isle in the RT.

By the time I leave the store I feel like I'm bringing half of it with me. I tend to forget that I have to carry this stuff back with me. As we walk outside to find a taxi, a little kid taking a restroom break in front of the door, reminding me of why I don't wear shoes in the house. The taxi driver can't seem to understand us or doesn't know where he's going, so we make a few loops around the block before we can get going in the right direction. But we make it home, and only one of my eggs has collapsed under pressure. Overall, it has been a pretty good shopping experience, although it took about three hours...

Nanjing

Nanjing is the capitol of Jiangsu Province and has twice served as the capitol of China. The city is hosting the National Games in less than a month, so they have been sprucing up the city. Among other things, all the taxis had been freshly painted bright green.

Today I went to Nanjing, a large city about 1 hour bus ride away. Matt and Corrine needed to get some more ram for their computer, and I just went along for the ride. Nanjing only has about 1 million more people than Yangzhou (just handful in China), but it is one more rung up the modernization scale. Nanjing is a Starbucks city, whereas Yangzhou has only acquired KFC and McDonalds. Nanjing also has a Walmart, a sandwich shop, and Mexican food. You might as well be in America.

The journey was a bit of an adventure because we had no Chinese speakers or even veteran travelers around, but it went quite successfully. The bus was absolutely posh – it looked like 1st class on a plane with comfy seats, AC, and a television. I couldn’t help but remembering my 16 hour bus ride in Laos last summer which was, shall we say, a good deal less luxurious. I could hardly believe the two trips were on the same mode of transportation.

As we were walking to the Mexican restaurant in Nanjing, I saw seven other foreigners. It’s only been two weeks since I left Beijing, but I have already gotten used to my teammates being the only white faces I see. Seeing other genuine westnerers caught me by surprise, and I stared in typical Chinese fashion.

When I came back this evening I went for a walk in a park outside of campus (the pictures show the park during the daytime). It was only about 7pm but already dark. The sun seems to set quite early here. The park was dark and peaceful, filled with couples and families on their evening strolls. I feel pretty safe wherever I go because even if I am by myself, I am always surrounded by people. I came out the far side of the park onto a street I had not been on before. After the stillness of the paths among the lakes and weeping willows, the street was bright and noisy, although still in a night-time sort of way. The light was more yellow and the atmosphere was closer because of the surrounding darkness. Vendors stood or squatted on the sidewalks with their carts of fruit or slabs of raw meat or piles of Chinese novels. Shopkeepers stood idly at the doors of their shops watching the people outside.

I love life in China because it happens everywhere right before your eyes. Sure, you see all the parts of life you really wished people would keep to themselves. But communities feel so much more connected here. It is like the disappearing "front-porch" culture of the South. It made me think that maybe if Americans’ homes weren’t quite so big and comfortable, we would be forced to step outside and interact with society.