The Wilderness

It always seemed a bit cruel to me that the Israelites had to wander around in the wilderness for 40 years. What a miserable waste of time. Was this some kind of a punishment for something they had done? Maybe because they didn’t have enough faith or they complained too much so God got mad and left them in the desert. I’ve heard it told that way. It would be justified after all; justified, but still cruel.

I just thought of it in a different way, though. The Israelites had been slaves for hundreds of years, and perhaps they just weren’t yet ready for the promise land. People rarely get over the slavery-mindset overnight. If they entered the promise land still thinking of themselves as slaves, still acting like slaves, how could they ever live freely?

Sure, the Israelites did a lot of things wrong in the desert. They grumbled and felt bad for themselves. They built idols. They refused to trust. It can’t have been fun, battling the scorching sun by day and shivering through the cold nights. Rarely finding relief of water or shade. Wondering why they had left Egypt if this was all they had to look forward to. Almost giving up hope of a different kind of life. But I don’t think those forty years were useless punishment. I think it was a time of preparation.

Through all the trials they were strengthened. They entered the desert as a group of fleeing slaves and left as a nation of people. Everything that was not pure was weeded out and only what was good remained. They were strong enough to trust in a Leader that would conquer everyone who stood between them and the promise land. They were ready to set up their own country and to enjoy the benefits of the land.

I guess we all find ourselves in the wilderness at times. Maybe we find ourselves there over and over again, and wonder what in the world we are doing wrong. Maybe we feel like we are lost and just wandering uselessly, looking for direction. Maybe we feel empty and forsaken and hopeless. We’ve left Egypt behind, but what good did that do? We hear about the promise land and wonder why we can’t get there.

Everyone goes through different kinds of wilderness. Right now my wilderness is depression. I keep wondering what I’ve done wrong to get here - and to have to stay here for so long. It’s hard not to think of depression as a character flaw. People who are depressed tend to think it is somehow their fault. People who aren’t depressed tend to give all kind of well-intentioned advice—think positive thoughts, get enough sleep, don’t sleep too much, spend time with other people, exercise, eat the right food. All of these things may be good, but they also imply that if you were just doing all the right things, you’d stop being depressed. That seems kind of cruel, like depression is your just punishment for not doing the right things.

Maybe it’s not what I’m doing wrong. Maybe it’s just that I’m not ready. It sure isn’t fun (miserable is more the word I would think of), but I have to remember it’s not just wasted time. I have to ask questions before I can find truth. I have to recognize my brokenness before I can find healing. I have to give up slavery before I can realize I am free. If I can remember that this heat is only refinement by the sunlight, that in the darkness of night I am slowly being transformed into a new person—maybe then my forty years won’t seem so long. I can remember the promise land, not as a shattered dream but as a hope yet unseen. This desert is just part of the journey.

Loneliness

I realized that my nearest friend is 3 and ½ hours away. The others are hundreds or thousands and thousands of miles away. Most of them I will see once a year. With my teacher friends I am lucky – I see them twice a year. Imagine not having any friends in the same town or even the same state as you.

I have my team, it’s true. They can be friends, but they are more like family. When you live with people all the time, sometimes you get tired of seeing the same six faces. I mean, I always like to see Logan, but you can’t really talk to him. Imagine not seeing anyone outside your family.

Of course I am beginning to find Chinese friends. It is such a slow process. Becoming friends, real friends, with a person takes time anyway, and it seems to take twice as long when you misunderstand half of what the other is trying to say. Those moments of connection, of feeling like you’re on the same ground, are very few. I miss being able to laugh and talk without considering every word. I miss not having to explain what cereal is, why I like candles in my house, and the wonder of being able to drive a car. I miss people who know me, or at least understand a little bit of where I’m coming from.

I have students that I like seeing and spending time with. They want to be friends. Mostly our times are question and answer fire-back, trying to understand the oddities of each other’s culture and ideas. The other day one of my students came over to ask for advice about a situation. We had a real back-and-forth conversation for about half an hour, and that was enjoyable. I was happy that she trusted me and would want to come to me. But with my students, I am always still their teacher. There is always a distance, with them looking up to me, regardless of the fact that I’m barely older than they.

Anyway, I spend probably ¾ of my life alone (and standing up in front of a classroom is hardly “hanging out” with others). I can’t talk to my co-workers beyond two minute “Hi, how are you” interactions on the stairs. I can stay in my apartment and be alone by myself, or I can go out and be alone with hundreds of other people (many of whom are staring and pointing at me). I like having my own apartment, but I get tired of talking to myself or to my dying plant Leo.

When I was with the other teachers in Thailand, we realized we had kind of forgotten how to carry on normal conversation. We just sat around waiting for someone to fire questions at us. We kept forgetting words we wanted to say.

I have gained new friends, in that I now know people all across China. I have become almost closer to some of my friends back home because of all the year has brought us through. But e-mail gets lame. I’m tired of having to schedule a phone conversation a week ahead of time. I wish that I could show up at a friend’s house. I wish I could go out to dinner or for coffee or just go to Walmart with friends! I wish I could say, “Hey, come over. I need you.”

You don't have to feel all bad for me. I did choose this. I'm just letting you know how it is.

Wuhu

This weekend about half of the team went to Wuhu (yes, pronounced like “woohoo”), a city about 3 and ½ hours away. Some of the people from our region (the three provinces close by) were getting together just to hang out. It was really good to get away for a couple of days, to go outside the realm of where your bicycle or the city bus can take you. The weekend included…
- Train ride to Wuhu Friday night. I still like trains, although shorter is definitely better in China.
- Hanging out in big, comfy arm chairs (I didn’t know they made that kind in China!)
- Meeting Charlie, the spastic cat.
- Bisquick waffles and Starbucks coffee.
- Half a dozen games of Catch Phrase.
- Climbing across a mini-mountain to get to the amusement park on the other side.
- Bumper cars, ferris wheel, a bungee catapult thing, and other spinning rides. Some people are concerned about those shopping-center amusement parks in America. Haha. The squeaking and shaking and rustiness and lack of any real safety precautions are all part of the adventure.
- Amazingly relaxing hair-wash/head massages.
- Riding on the back of a motorcycle taxi. I can’t believe we don’t have those in Yangzhou!
- Spending time with some region-mates, like Tre, my Southern friend, Tina, one of the sweetest people I know, and Sherri, one of the craziest people over six that I know.
- Watching “Nanny McFee” – which was quite enjoyable. A little bit like Mary Poppins with a twist (and seven really cute British kids).
- Sharing Tre’s foam-padded bed. Yes, this was a highlight. It was actually soft!
- Fellowship time of singing and lifting up the things happening at our various schools.
- Korean BBQ
- Stocking up on pasta and candles at the new Wuhu Walmart. It didn’t have too much special, but they just cut out the pasta supply in Yangzhou, much to our sadness.
- 3 hour really rough bus ride home, swerving over bumpy Anhui roads. I still like trains.

No Break for You!

In just a few weeks, inspectors are coming to evaluate the English department at our school. It’s a big deal – the higher the rating the more money the school gets and the better the students who will want to come. So the department has been preparing all semester. They reduced all the class sizes to 30 (rumor is, it will change back next semester). The sophomores have been loaded up with extra classes in every spare moment since they will be doing some sort of performances for the inspectors. The teachers are teaching the extra classes (not us, but the Chinese teachers) on nights and even weekends. Some classes for inspector week are even scripted and practiced beforehand. It just doesn’t make sense to me. It’s like a big show, and then everything goes back to normal.

And my freshmen just found out that they don’t get May Holiday. The week-long holiday is most similar to Spring Break, right about the middle of the semester. It’s different though, because the whole country has holiday at the same time – students, workers, everyone. Only this year, English department students (and English department teachers – once again, fortunately not the foreigners) are told they have to stay here for extra classes.

The freshmen have been talking about May Holiday for a good month. They have been looking forward to visiting their families all semester. I feel quite bad for them. Can you imagine if that happened in America? A week and a half before Spring Break a school suddenly said – sorry guys, it’s cancelled. Mutiny – that is what would ensue. It’s just baffling, how they can do that.

Trying

It's been an interesting time lately. I can't really figure out my own words to try to explain it, but I think this lifehouse song expresses it pretty well.

Could you let down your hair be transparent for a while
Just a little while
To see if you're human, after all
Honesty is hard attribute to find
When we all want to seem like
We've got it all figured out
Let me be first to say that I don't have a clue
I don't have all the answers
Ain't gonna pretend like I do

Just trying
to find my way
Trying
to find my way
The best that I know how

Well I haven't memorized all of the cute things to say
But I'm working on it
Maybe I'll master this artform someday
If I quote all the lines off the top of my head
Would you believe
That I fully understand all these things I've read

I'm just trying
to find my way
Trying
to find my way
Trying
to find my way
The best that I know how

Well, I haven't got it all figured out quite yet
But, even if it takes my whole life
To get to where I need to be
If I should fall to the bottom of the end
I'll be one step back to you and

Trying
to find my way
Trying
to find my way

Migraines

So I was thinking about migraines, and here is my conclusion. Chinese must be either immune to migraines or they must get the worst migraines ever. China kind of strikes me as a migraine breeding ground. China is probably as bad for migraines as Atlanta in springtime, with its deathly pollen counts, is for asthma.

For one thing, there’s the noise. Noise seems to be an integral part of Chinese society. Partly because there are millions of people in any given small area. Partly because everything just seems to be noisy. Noise is used for advertisement. The bicycle-cart guys who pass behind our apartments a dozen times a day bang on pots, clang bells, or chant into their loudspeakers to summon people out of their homes. The more “high-tech” ones may even play a loud, shrill tune, usually something inappropriate like “Happy Birthday” or “Jingle Bells.” If you pass by a clothing store while riding through town, the music blaring into the street is often loud enough to cease any attempts at conversation. This past weekend, the campus store (which is approximately 1000 feet from our apartments) was promoting some kind of items with hours of karaoke blasting over campus.

And of course living on a university campus is loud. The students pass just beneath our windows in masses from about 6:30am-11pm. Either our walls are really thin or they yell a lot. Probably both. One guy in the dormitory directly across from our apartments has decided to yell at the top of his lungs every night at 11pm when the lights are cut off in the dormitories. He does not realize that he is the object of many a malicious thought. And then there are the loudspeaker announcements and music three times a day. I had gotten so used to it I hardly even heard it anymore. Then they installed a new loudspeaker. 6:30am - 11:30am - 5:00pm. There’s no avoiding it.

People themselves are just loud. I’m still a little confused about the stereotype of the loud American and the reserved Chinese. Chinese restaurants are some of the loudest places I’ve been. People walk by or ride around on their bicycles singing loudly to themselves. Apparently at one time cell phone connections were very bad and people had to yell to be understood. The connections are fine now, but people still yell just out of principle. Coming back from class the other day on the teacher’s bus, I was getting a migraine. The bus driver was yelling, literally yelling, into his cell phone while laying on the horn and screeching the brakes. I was not very happy at that moment.

If the noise doesn’t get you, the MSG laden food probably will. Either that or unavoidable smoking. I don’t mean to sound horribly negative. I can’t say I’m exaggerating anything I said, but most of the time it doesn’t bother me too much. Fortunately, I don’t get too bad of migraines. And who knows, maybe living in China I will help me to build up a resistance to them. Maybe I’ll develop immunity too. For the moment, I’m just really grateful for the Excedrin reinforcements from my mom.

[Case in point: this morning, when I was needlessly awake at 5am, I heard a man ride by singing loudly. Seriously, who sings at five o’clock in the morning?]

Seeking

It’s interesting how we go forth trying to save the world. Maybe it’s the arrogance of youth, an arrogance which seems to pervade the social fabric of our young nation. In one way or another, with war or peace, with words or deeds, we want to bring our knowledge and values and perspectives to the world. We’ve never quite recovered from the “manifest destiny” mindset.

I wanted to save the world. Who doesn’t? That’s what we’re trained to do from childhood – get smarter and stronger and more able so that we have something to offer. We think of service as standing over someone giving them something they need. So long as we are in the position of strength and they (whoever we want to serve) are in the position of meek acceptance, we feel successful. Interesting how we twist around the idea of service to meet the needs of our egos.

I say “we” in all of this. I know that these thoughts and ideas are in me, and I don’t think I’m smart enough to come up with them on my own. I think they are ideas I’ve acquired from 22 years of living with other people. Maybe you aren’t included in the “we.” Maybe you’ve already figured all this out. No, actually I don’t think so. I know that you’re human and you don’t have all the answers either.

I left America sure of what I believed, eager to show the rest of the world how right I was. I know the things which are important, I thought. I just need to enlighten the rest of the world.

And then I realized, am realizing, slowly, that I may not be right. I may not know the things which are important. I’m not so sure of what I believe. I need to be enlightened.

At this point, maybe you are getting nervous. You don’t like uncertainty. Too much questioning leaves you on shaky ground. You are afraid I am rejecting what is right and what is wrong. I am becoming “post-modern,” or “relativistic,” or something equally horrible. You say, “You went to China to influence others, not for them to influence you.”

Do you have so little faith in seeking? I do believe there is Truth. But I don’t believe I have a perfect grasp on it. There are parts of the truth which I can see that my Chinese friend cannot. There are parts of the truth which my Chinese friend can see that I cannot. I am both enlightened and blinded by my background, education, family, society, and culture. I don’t want to sit back in arrogant contentment, unwilling to widen my narrow perspective on the world.

If I seek, I will find Truth. Isn't that a promise? If I seek with my Chinese friends, perhaps we will find Truth together.