Zàijiàn, 2011

I thought it was appropriate that the final sunset of 2011 would be spectacular, befitting the end of an incredible year. As I hung my laundry to dry, I couldn't help but smile and contemplate how 2012 is shaping up to be a doozy, filled with much travel and teaching.

2011 Recollections

It was the year of fluctuating adjectives, a premium Skype membership, global travel, an enduring tan and the year I realized I do not like writing the number four (which makes me feel complete as I have detested writing the letter E for years.) As custom, here is my photographic recollections for another crazy year.

January: I slunk into the new year, disheartened and weary. In reflection, this picture says so much to me months later. We were poised for a new path, yet the one we were walking was amazing. It was a month to continue making memories with friends and family (which have sustained us in so many ways this past year).

February: It was mayhem. Within a month, we sold a household, said (tearful) farewells and jetted across the Pacific Ocean for a new adventure. Yet, even months later, this night remains one of my favorite--surrounded by friends and holding my favorite (now) three-year-old.

  
March: We began our life in China. It was a rocky start with employment, but we were mesmerized and thrilled about (finally) living overseas.

April: I love this picture! We stretched our exploratory boundaries beyond Beijing and pulled a few "I am a foreigner and cannot read that sign" moments. 

May: I vividly remember taking this picture on a really rough day. We were disheartened and discouraged in so many ways, yet kept hoping.

June: Football cures all ailments, but we quickly realized that even football isn't immune from Chinese corruption. We still cheered when we could and learned all the bad Chinese words in the process.

 July: I think July was my favorite month in Beijing. I had the opportunity to teach swimming lessons, which continued into August. The Dillers came to visit. We were in the throes of hosting couchsurfers. Zach and I made the executive decision that for our mental, spiritual and physical health we had to leave Teachall and Beijing. Promises did not come to fruition and big city living was not our cup of tea. By the end of the month we had multiple job offers and we were excited.

August: To a friend, this is a picture of us on a river. To me, this picture represents so much more. Granted we were in the middle of the Li River, somewhere between Guilin and Yangshuo, but we were so happy. The weight and frustrations of Beijing had lifted, we had secured new employment and we were on a new journey. The week long trek to our new city was spectacular, with the added bonus of visiting dear friends in Nanning.

September: Zhanjiang was every thing we had envisioned our time in China would be. We shirked the concrete jungle for lush farmland and palm trees. Giddy is the apt adjective for this month.

October: We love our students and the energy of living on a college campus. The highlight of October was exposing the students to Halloween. Months later, they still talk about trick or treating.

November: The more we learn of the China, the weirder and more complex it becomes. November was a hodge podge of activities and emotions.

December: We end the year in a great place, both figuratively and literally. Reflections upon a year can be either good or bad, but I think always necessary. Looking through pictures of the year, trying to choose the best ones, I was enamored and humbled by what 2011 held for me and for us. Knowing what I felt at the beginning of the year, it was good to review the journey. It wasn't always easy, but it was so good. I am blessed.

Wednesdays

Every Wednesday we join our fellow teachers at the "western" restaurant (which means it has a chinglish menu, nothing more) outside the school gate. We snapped this photo last Wednesday since it was the week prior to Christmas and we could finally utilize the Christmas background which stays up year round.

The scene looked completely different today because Zach, Rob, Yvonne and I were battling the 24 hour plague and Shaun had a mild case of Chinarhea. We were not so lively, but we had to say farewell to Rob and Yvonne for they depart tomorrow to begin their holiday.

Christmas Mishaps and Marvels

My jog to the front gate vegetable stand was brief, for as I topped the stairs to the sidewalk I ran into Shaun. His startled reaction quickly dissipated, allowing for a brisk, "Good morning, can you help me?" Extracting my earbuds, I asked what he needed.

"Yesterday, Adam and I went to Xiashan to get things for Secret Santa and lunch. We forgot the food part. Do you know anything I could make quickly for dessert? I looked up fast desserts and read something about a banana and brown sugar."

I was chuckling from the beginning, but upon hearing brown sugar and banana I lost the battle. Steering Shaun towards the front gate, we walked together plotting. We settled on mini apple crumbles with Shaun coming over to "help" at 10:40am, with Adam coming at eleven to make a potato dish. 

Timelines are fabulous in theory and work well in ideal conditions, but China is not an ideal situation for time adherence. Shaun showed up at eleven (after a random decree from Gillian to go buy her eggs) and Adam appeared at 11:45am, fumbling with a huge sack of potatoes. The soup wasn't finished, the first batch of pies was still baking, the potatoes were not going to be on the menu and I still had not showered. Christmas lunch was supposed to be served at noon. We laughed, mustered our forces and delayed lunch until noon-thirty.
 

The afternoon was splendid, complete with a grand spread of westernized food. Secret Santa was a riot, as we are quite the jovial and prankful bunch. Zach received a T-shirt with the Chinese characters, pinyin and pictures of his favorite food dishes at one of the best campus restaurants; complete with a "Yippi-Ki-Yay!" and the explanation that the word had been googled for spelling verification. 

Rob's bag contained the hodge podge--beer, risque underwear and a Mao hat. Shaun received everything green in color. Adam received a hideous and hysterical golden piggy bank, which was named Wang by the group. Yvonne was fascinated by our tales of White Elephant, so since Zach had drawn her name, we supplemented her gift with a photo album we had found on our shelf  that was inscribed to a teacher who was here years ago.

Stomachs sated, gifts exchanged and conversation having covered everything from holiday travel planning to how Shaun planned on making dessert with brown sugar and bananas, we bid adieu to each other and another Christmas as darkness descended--everyone had Skype dates.

Thrill of Hope

It was a grumpy Christmas Eve morning. I had not slept well, Zach was hell-bent on a McDonald's breakfast and we had no water. Morning water outages have become an annoying norm lately and this was a morning that I was not laughing it off as "Oh China." I needed a shower, not for stench but for sanity. Zach threw on clothes, gave me a hug and said he would meet me in town after realizing that my mood was foul and not being swayed by his usual teasing.

Standing in the middle of our living room, grumbling that I couldn't even complete basic chores such as laundry, I spotted the two bottles I had filled with water to use as weights. Fifteen minutes later, armed with a bucket of warm water and a cup, I took a 'shower'--African style. Three liters of water and a precious memory of a shower years ago in the bush of Kenya, soothed my beastly self.

I ran into Zach on the Xiashan flea market street, puttering along with Roger (who had started his Saturday morning in McDonald's as well.) It was a pleasant surprise to chat with him for while, before parting ways. Our morning rambles took us to a couple of outdoor shops (as we are trying to secure backpacking packs for our seven weeks of upcoming travel) and the typical Walmart run. However, an unexpected sidetrack was taken into the Catholic Church. Though we have checked a couple of times, it has never been open, but for Christmas Eve its gate stood ajar for all to enter.

It has been ten months since we last stepped into an actual church building; approximately five months since we have been among fellow believers. On the other side of the world, apart from Christmas comforts, looking at a nativity scene displayed on fake turf grass with weird miniature horses was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. I got teary-eyed. It was overwhelming. I had to walk outside.

Throughout the season, I have been periodically announcing to Zach my all time favorite Christmas carol lyrics. This year, "a thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices" from O Holy Night has been very poignant. China is an amazing country with amazing people, but at times I find myself lulling into the 'there's nothing wrong here' mentality. Today reminded me that China is not all right. It is corrupt. It does not fight for freedom. It does not value people. It does not allow religion. It is a country terrified of revolt, because its creation was through revolts. Standing in front of the church, among fellow believers, it was a comfort to recall and remember once again that a Savior was born--a thrill of hope, my weary soul rejoiced.

Love, From Portland

The weeks leading into Christmas have been extra special with an influx of packages and no post office hassles. Our latest round came complete with Kaden art, tea and Rod-made journals. It wouldn't be considered much by many, but these packages are beautiful reminders that we have an amazing family supporting us.

We Four Foreigners

We four foreigners have been spending many evenings together whether eating homemade noodles at the Muslim place, slurping fruit drinks at our favorite juice bar or playing football at the school stadium. Our time with Adam (far left) is coming to an end, as he will be jetting back to England after jaunts through Yunnan and Laos.

Remembrance

Every so often my mom will 'text' (aka email me) snapshots of her day, family shenanigans, or farm events such as corn growing or Dad driving his John Deere. They are always unexpected, random and notorious for making me smile. A couple of days ago I had three 'texts': one was the family Christmas tree, the second was actual words declaring how much she had spent at the grocery, and the third was a picture of my grandfather's headstone.

When my Pappaw died twenty years ago there wasn't a military graveyard in Kentucky, so he was buried on a mountainside in Pikeville. Life moves on; Mammaw moved away after a while and our visits to the mountains ceased. A few years ago I remember mom mentioning that Ft. Knox was creating a military cemetery and she wanted to move Pappaw for several reasons. It was a rigorous process which seemed to take a long time, including extensive paperwork and some emotional conversations from involved parties. Mom remained steadfast and finally succeeded in her quest. 

After chuckling over the Christmas tree and the outrageous grocery bill, this picture made me pause. Cemeteries have continually struck a chord of reverence for me (except when I hunted Easter eggs in the one beside my hometown church); military cemeteries always hush my boisterous spirit and I find myself staggered by what I see. Whoever designed the no-frills, stark marble military headstones was a genius, for in its simplicity it poignantly showcases the cost of freedom.

Living in a country where I can't publicly announce why I celebrate Christmas, this picture was a powerful reminder of liberties we so often take for granted. Like the thousands around him, Pappaw's headstone gives the briefest snapshot of a beautiful life. He was a great man, who was proud to serve his country and spent many hours telling me so. I am glad my mom worked so hard so he could be honored alongside his fellow servicemen this holiday.

'Tis the Grading Season

As the semester draws to a close, we are in the throes of paperwork and grading. Paperwork is tedious; paperwork is even more tedious when in a foreign language. So far, I have filled out 3,000 of these little boxes with numbers and I am not done yet. I knew I disliked writing the letter E; I now know that I detest writing the number four.

Merry Christmas from the Bankers

Our second package did not force us to weave a web of obscenities that still linger over Zhanjiang, though our appearance at the post office did incite some grimaces from the workers. The murmurs that we would not be allowed to pick up our package for some unknown reason (think along the lines of workers don't actually work in this country) quietly dissipated on their lips. We stood, not saying a word and walked away with a great surprise!

Zach's parents had sent us love from America. It was such fun to pull out our treats; to delight in the simplicity of deodorant and cinnamon. We laughed with our neighbors how exciting basic necessities are on the other side of the world.

Ten Years Ago

My initial entry into China was alongside one hundred other students from around the United States. Only a handful of us had been beyond our nation's borders and I was not included on that meager list. We had left a day in limbo on our transcontinental journey, landing in Hong Kong in late evening. Jet lag laced with anticipation was collectively felt as we herded our way to the waiting bus. I vividly recall our American host turning to the bus driver, speaking fluent Chinese and how my jaw dropped.

The next fifteen days were a fascinating honeymoon with such an alien country. New sights. New smells. New looks. New food. New words. I departed China on New Year's Eve, with a completely different world perspective.

Ten years later, I am reminded that during the last trip debriefing our main host asked people to stand if they hoped to return one day. I did not stand.

Ten years later, I chuckle at that naive image of myself and can say that hindsight is truly comical at times. That trip was revolutionary, beyond anything I could have imagined that day sitting on hard plastic chairs in a conference room far above the hustle of Nathan Road. Within three months I agreed to trek the globe once again; followed by many more agains. Today, I sit in my apartment in China.

I have long surpassed the honeymoon phase of the sleeping dragon. I grapple with her corruption. I shake my fists at her inconsistent logic. I still cannot understand how a country can have so many different languages that are classified as one. Yet, I am beyond thankful for what she has taught me about myself and culture, as well as the opportunities she has provided. Unsure as to what the future will bring, I can only hope that in another ten years I can reflect with such thanksgiving and awe of an amazing journey, wherever I may sit. However, I do know that China will always be a constant thread in my moments of reminiscing.

Sunny with a Chance of Whines

The temperatures have decreased slightly, with daytime highs in the upper 60s or 70s and lows in the 40s. Granted it is cooler than our normal 97 degrees with 126% humidity, but we are not freezing. However, if you took one look at our students it would appear as though we are living in the Arctic tundra.

Since the classrooms tend to hold the chill of the morning, one class requested that we go outside (because they know I love to take them outside and have done so often this semester.) However their plan backfired because I made them sit in the sun and work. After forty five minutes they were whining about the heat, but refused to take off their coats. The concept of taking off layers is unknown to them.

The Chinese are never happy about the weather. Never.

Bad Karma

There are times while traveling in third world countries when your entire being suddenly becomes uber-aware of the squalor, the chaos, the contradictions and the decrepitness of your surroundings; times when you become possessed with longing for things like bus timetables, price tags and only slightly suspect hamburgers. These mini-frenzies can be brought on by anything from finding feathers in your soup to gagging on the mingled aromas of shit and squid in a rotting alleyway. More often than not, victims will find themselves standing in a pile of old bananas, furiously wondering why they didn't go to EuroDisney as their travel agent advised.

But those very same moments that lead to irrational cravings for Health and Safety Boards and dancing mice can also occur in the contrary. The drunken, lecherous samlor driver becomes a champion of the downtrodden, the hole in the ground restaurant a fantastic aid to your digestive system. All is seedy romance and the gritty 'reality' you came here for in the first place, and you wouldn't trade it for all the Goofy souvenirs in Le Kingdom Magique.

Ultimate University Sports Competition

For three days, the university speakers squeaked and squawked statistics, updates and cheesy musical clips to inspire greatness. No Rocky theme was heard. The stadium was decked out with department flags and banners, while the field was covered in participants, spectators and a podium that held nine winners. Friday was declared a holiday and no classes were held. It was the annual Ultimate University Sports Competition.

An observation that we have noticed in the months living here is that Chinese are excellent at badminton, ping pong and tennis because they require only short bursts of energy. Any activity requiring endurance is avoided. Plus, study always comes before physical activity. Plus, school spirit is an unknown concept. With these nuggets of information, we were weirdly fascinated as to how track and field activities were going to be handled. We were not disappointed. 

Once around the track and participants collapsed after crossing the finish line or were dragged off, limply held by their friends. The finish line induced an immediate droopiness. One of my students, seeing her later in the day after she had ran 200 meters, exclaimed that she was exhausted and would sleep a long time. 

Other funny aspects were the “high” jump of three feet, as well as the girl who instead of jumping over the hurdles kicked every one over and kept running. 

It was a great couple of days spending time with students and cheering them on towards victory. Besides, we loved having a long weekend. 

A Case of Going Postal

Upon reaching the post office to retrieve a long awaited package, our squeals of exultations were quickly silenced when one customs form made an appearance. China wanted 330 RMB for us to have our gift. Hello, corruption.  

It was a battle that sealed our fate as not-be-messed-with foreigners. 

For two hours, combat by words, English and Chinese, ensued. Google and Baidu translate was used. Two students, followed by an additional seven students were roped into the melee. At one point, fifteen people stood in the office; I didn’t get to count how many faces were peering at us through the bars from the outside. Customs officials were notified via telephone, multiple times. Every time they said “regulation”, we retorted “corruption.”

When the clock struck four o’clock and the workers demurely said we would solve the matter the next day, we grabbed the box and vehemently declared we were not leaving without the package. By four-thirty the “big” boss had been called, a mysterious being who spoke fantastic English. 

By five o’clock we walked out of the post office, package in hand. We were told they would call us when the matter was resolved. Twenty four hours later, we have yet to hear from them. However, I did have a couple students say to me today, “I heard you got really mad yesterday. I didn’t know you could get mad.”

Jumper

One week ago, as the sun peeked over the horizon, dispelling the chill of the night, one our students walked out of his dorm to find the body of a female classmate, sprawled on the courtyard. Dead.

I overhead snitches of conversation that morning and had wondered why some of my sophomore students were aimlessly walking around campus. Since I only teach postgrads on Wednesdays, I was unaware of the tragedy until I returned home for lunch. Rob told us there had been a jumper and it was an English major, but nothing more was known. We stood on our stoop, pondering and brainstorming as to who it could have been. Unfortunately, we have many students who battle depression and one had openly shared her concerns and frustrations with Zach. We feared the worst.

Text messages were sent, inquiring. Bit by bit, information was shared, for as much as the administration tries to hide and bury such matters, word does get around. It was a junior. She was well loved and had many friends. She was outgoing. No one knows why.

Sadly, this is a yearly occurrence. Last year, a student killed herself by poison on Christmas Day, the day after taking Rob’s final. The year before, there was a jumper and a murder. Each shrouded in secrecy, students told not to worry about it and the parents receive a monetary payment from the university.

Unfortunately, suicide is viewed as a means to get what you want in this society. We learned of the 1-2-3 method from our students (boys and girls) about a month ago. First, throw a fit. Second, cry really hard. Three, attempt suicide. Even last week I saw a picture in the news of a bride-to-be who had been jilted at the alter who jumped out the hotel window, only to be caught by a bystander (by the train of her dress). Though it was apparent that our jumper was dealing with more than a petty wish list, it is hard to comprehend how jumping off a building is the best solution.

Excuse Note

As I was rummaging through my bag today, I stumbled across a note I had received last week from a student who was absent. It made me chuckle as much the second time I saw it as when I first received it. Who knew after twelve weeks I would be considered a kindly teacher that was loved.

Destination Decided

We are four weeks from seven weeks of freedom. As hard as it is to believe that the completion of our first semester is so near, we do feel the need for a break and a change of scenery. In lieu of tangible presents beneath our tree, Zach and I decided to give each other the gift of travel this year. Last night, we made the decision and purchased tickets for our Spring Festival shenanigans. We will be looking for lost mummies in Egypt, scarfing pad thai in Thailand, reconnecting with a friend in Cambodia and discovering the ancestral roots of our beloved To family, as well as scarfing spring rolls. We are so excited.