Cleaning off the Camera

A busy semester means a neglected camera. While I snap photos along the way, they sit on the SD card waiting and longing for the day to be written about and shared with the world. As with every foray into an accumulation of photographs, I am reminded of moments captured yet forgotten in my mind. A great example is the above photo. The two month project to replace the road next to our apartment (again) has long been over, yet this photo reminded me of that Saturday morning we so wanted to sleep late yet were brutally awoken by the cackles and obnoxiously loud chattering of these women. Construction noise is a thorn in our sides and this picture reminds me of that fact, yet it also reminds me how their giggles to help pass the time make me chuckle as well.

Thus, with the end of the semester comes freedom and time to clean off the camera. Here is the stash on display and the stories.

Early October, a group of exchange students (from Ghana and Pakistan) walked onto our campus and became an instant sensation. The students, teachers, and surrounding villagers were mesmerized by these people from such exotic places and we reveled in the fact that the paparazzi-esque attention was diverted from us for a time.

The bonus to this international invasion was that we finally had proof for our students that Chinese are not the best at learning English. We have grown tired of pretentious attitudes that their ability to learn English is superior to surrounding countries. Thus, a group of fluent English speakers who have studied and mastered the language in less time than Chinese has been splendid. It is uncountable the times I have carried on a conversation with these guys with students nearby, only for their mouths to stay agape at trying to follow our conversation.

Ultimately, we have loved having a little diversity to our campus as their energy is infectious and lively. It has been delightful to learn about their respective countries and cultures, even having a night of Pakistani food (which is amazing!) Multiple invitations have been proffered for us to visit, and with our love of travel, I could see it happening.

Football consumed the semester for Zach. Whoever was in charge of the intramural tournament was an idiot at scheduling, so the event that would normally be a six week venture turned into four months. Beyond the scheduling madness, it was a great season for the boys and girls teams. They went farther in the tournament than ever before and became the one to beat rather than the easy-to-decimate team. Foreign language teams made a name for themselves this year.

In early November, a 3am toilet run turned into a thirty minute moon-gazing venture. I knew that if I could see the world so clearly without my glasses, it had to be a stunning view with glasses. It was and, for once, I was glad my bladder had woken me up before the alarm.

Attending a behavioral science conference has been added to the category of never-thought-I-would-do-that. Thanks to our friendship with the chairs, we spent a couple of hours one October morning immersing ourselves into a foreign field that involved tons of science jargon long forgotten. Instead of deciphering Chinglish, we were struggling to remember the vocabulary of Biology 101. Thanks to some quick dictionary searching, it was fascinating, yet saddening to hear repeatedly how far behind research is in regards to mental health.

Trading the traditional zen garden for a Japanese maple in a container surrounded by bluegrass, my husband has spent many meditative moments preening his little piece of heaven. Numerous times, I have turned down the hallway to find him halfway out the window mowing his grass, talking to it, and plucking dead leaves (though it did have a Whomping Willow moment earlier in the semester when in one day it lost all its leaves.)

The deer park near our university bedecked itself for the holidays. While it was not the traditional display of Santas, Christmas tress, and bells, it was actually well done for Chinese standards. We were pleasantly surprised and enjoyed strolling the grounds for over an hour.

Our resident first floor feline, Kitty, has appointed herself as our ferocious door god. Traditionally, along with red couplets outlining the door frame of Chinese homes, two posters of door gods will adorn the actual door. This is a favorite decoration of ours, so we find it fitting that we have acquired an actual door god who ensures that all who pass into our hutong have been screened in some capacity before she runs into the night. She is a skittish door god.  

The Story of the Semester

This evening, Zach and I sat down for dinner. I took one bite of my spaghetti, Zach pushed play on the computer to start an episode of NCIS: New Orleans, and a knock on our door reverberated through our apartment. In walked two junior students cradling their new kitten. Our oohs, aahs and kitty snuggles was interrupted by another knock. Our Ghanaian friend, Denicia, who wanted to see what we were into for the evening. Five minutes later, our across-the-hall neighbor stuck her head in the door to see if we would come over and join an impromptu surprise birthday party for her husband. We agreed to join the rowdy rendition of "Happy Birthday" to wake him from his slumber.

An hour and a half and two warm-up-my-spaghetti-in-the-microwave sessions later, Zach and I stood in the kitchen bewildered by what we thought would be a calm, sequestered evening at home turned into an open house that involved three nationalities and one very cute feline. As Zach put the lid on our leftover (and very cold) spaghetti, he said, "This seems to be the story of our semester."

Tempus Fugit.

Time flies.

I fear this is my semester litany.

October began with us being smooshed in the backseat of a knock-off Honda en route to Guangzhou and Guizhou and ended with a flamingo - Jedi duo celebrating the annual Trick or Treat Extravaganza. We did not break stride running into November which was filled with oodles of football games, hours in in the pool, conversations, dinners, explorations, spazzing about Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, celebrations, pie tasting, classes, Thanksgiving, singing along with Moana, and grading.

December began and I found myself turning the calendar on day three because denial of time passing is great within me. I type this post gazing at our Christmas tree, surrounded by brown exam bags, completely flummoxed at the fact that two months whizzed by without a single essay to capture the adventure. Tales now stuffed into the archives of my mentally written blog posts, eclipsed by grades, an ever growing to-do list, and the anticipation of the annual winter travel extravaganza.

Two weeks.

In two weeks we trade routine for unpredictable.

Between now and then, it is the semester ending heap of paperwork and tedious marking.

Yet, tonight, I sit and marvel at the story of the semester. It has been so good. So, so good. Every interruption. Every late night meal. Every unexpected twist and turn of living in this crazy country. We are so blessed and this semester has been a beautiful reminder that this life we live is such a treat. 

Reminded

In May, it was the first time we had put forth the option as viable. As we sat in a borrowed apartment, on furniture that was not ours, surrounded by boxes and bags filled with our clothes and life knick knacks, we had the discussion neither of us wanted, yet needed. Was our time in China done? 

The school year was the perfect storm of nastiness. The majority of students were the worst we had ever had - cocky, unteachable, and lacking ambition as well as personality. The new batch of foreign teachers were toxic - bad attitudes, hateful, and sleazy. Their anger was spewed to any and all, even demeaning Zach and I in their classrooms to students. What respect we had garnered with Chinese staff and students quickly dissipated and we were lumped in with "those foreigners." One brutal typhoon began the hutong drama that would last nine months. 

It was a hard discussion, but we kept repeating that we did not want to finish in such a wretched way. Each year had held challenges and we had persevered. If given the opportunity, could year six be the redemption? 

We signed the contracts in June. 

We crossed the border in July. 

We needed to leave China. It was the first time we knew that we had to leave rather than we just wanted to leave. We were so weary. 

America was everything we needed to recover. Our community rallied; our calendars were full, laughter abounded, adventures were had on water and land, comfort food was eaten in abundance, and a Christmas surprise made us weep just two times. Little by little, the hovering dark cloud dissolved as we were repeatedly reminded of how much we are loved. This summer, our family and friends rescued us; because of them, we were able to board the return flight to China. 

So, why has the blog remained silent? 

I could not settle. I could not focus. I hated sitting in front of the computer longer than five minutes. I write best at night, but I have all 8am classes which curtails my night owl ritual. I continue to process and grapple with the intense emotions of the summer. It took me two weeks to even look through the pictures on my camera. I even outlined a summer ABCs blog post, yet it sits dormant. Yet, the biggest reason is that our wish came true by the end of week one. The beginning of year six showed us why we love this life and I have been reveling in the joy of such a reminder. 

Our students rock.

The new foreign teachers are personable, talkative, and enjoy living in China. 

We returned to a clean and mold-free hutong.  

The pool boss actually clapped when I showed up to swim the first time. 

Week two, Zach began coaching the girl's football team. 

Week three, we took a quick trip to Hong Kong to meet up with dear American friends and celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival. 

Week five, eleven Pakistani and four Ghanaian exchange students took our campus by storm. 

Week six, we went to Guizhou. 

Peppered among the big moments have been lunches, dinners, workouts, conversations, introductions, birthday parties, and reunions. We are busy. We are thriving once again. As Madeline L'Engle once wrote, "Maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light." 

I am grateful to be reminded of joy after such turmoil. I love our life.

Photo Journal: There and Back

Tucked within one of my favorite books, The Phantom Tollbooth, is a statement that has resonated with me long after finishing the book:

The most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what's in between, and they took great pleasure in doing just that.

The annual summer trek to and from America never looks the same. Though similarities exist, each has its own stories and sights. This time, I decided to capture snapshots along the in between, for it is always an intriguing journey.

No bus trip to Guangzhou is complete until we see at least one truck filled with pigs.

Thanks to traffic, this was the view out of the bus window for at least an hour. Mentally, I challenged myself to recall as many Mother Goose stories as possible.

Standstill traffic allows for leg stretching and gawking.

We know it is time to disembark when the bus stops in the strangest niche of road. This journey, it was in the median of an eight lane highway.

New route for us - fast train from Guangzhou to Hong Kong. It was bliss!

MTR ride to the Happiest Place on Earth.

The view from Bus A21 in transit to the airport.

Bamboo scaffolding, a mesmerizing configuration.

Welcome artwork is the best, as well as the shower I took after snapping this photo.

The return journey began as the sun peeked above the Cascades and tears clouded our sight.

Hello, Japan. Mid-descent, we realized that it had been over a decade since either one of us had touched down in this beautiful country.

Best thirty minutes ever spent in transit - hot shower and an item checked off the bucket list.

Farewell, Narita.

Late night arrival + cheap price = one night in the airport hotel.

Best way to spend time before a late afternoon flight to the mainland.

It has become common practice to put mainland departure gates in the farthermost basement corner. I think there are many valid reasons for this decision.

Returning to a mold-free, clean hutong was such a great treat. 

Remembering

Campus becomes hectic the first week of June when seniors return from their internships to face the final requirements before being mailed a degree. Thesis defenses are given, final farewell parties by associations and classes are thrown, mounds of paperwork are signed and stamped, and thousands of photos are taken...again. While I enjoy saying farewell to the masses and snapping a few photos, I tend to love the quiet, stolen moments I can sit and chat with those closest the most. It is with these who have moved from student to friend that remind me why I love teaching. Why I love living in a foreign country. Why I love journeying alongside people. Why I love living among college students. For in these last chats, we remember.

We remember the journey - theirs and ours.

On one evening, we talked about the flux of foreign teachers and their legacies. For these graduating seniors, we have been the consistent foreigners. We have outlasted, much to our shock as theirs. Though, as one student put it: GDOU is the Hunger Games and somehow the odds were in our favor. A fitting summation to describe the ups and downs of this place, including the coming and going of foreign teachers.

There definitely have been many who have come and gone.

It was entertaining to hear which ones they remembered and what they recalled about them. Through moments of laughter and solemnity, we relived the years by those who intersected our GDOU journey for a year or two. It was interesting to Zach and I how quickly the remembrance of teachers dissipates. Two years after leaving is about the average for a foreigner to be remembered. Even Barbara, who was a constant on campus for eighteen years, has been largely forgotten. If mentioned, the response tends to be, "Wasn't she the one who was here a long time?"

A couple of days after the conversation, I was stopped in front of my building after class by an unexpected sight.

A bouquet of flowers propped up against the concrete wall.

I stood, breathless.

Goosebumps appeared on my arms.

A solitary bouquet that was a reminder of a hard season not so long ago.

In the hustle and bustle of senior activities, one lone, anonymous student remembered a beloved teacher.

Simon.

The quirky British man who took to our campus with a hobble, a boisterous laugh, and a horrid love affair of bad coffee. His dictations were infamous, as were his coined phrases of "my girlfriend" and "every coin has two sides." His death shocked our community in so many ways.

Standing in front of my building, I could not help but end up smiling at the tangible reminder of the recent conversation. It also showed me that that while the legacy of our time here is short to the masses, to some it will remain with them for far longer. 

Photo Journal: Nightscapes

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; 

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. 

- Sarah Williams, The Old Astronomer to His Pupil

May Highlights with a Dash of June

After five years, I can say that the month of May has a definite rhythm and routine to it. If anything, it seems a bit redundant, crazy, and resembles a slalom ski route - we begin with a yelp of surprise, swerve madly attempting to attend or judge as many events as possible, and swoosh into the month of June, hands up, screaming with equal parts delight and relief that we managed to survive another round.

When I finally sit down to reflect and write, I realize that no post could encapsulate the insanity of the month, nor do I have the time because I realize that said reflection happens a week into June... because June it is not calmer. Thus, June's beginning stories get smooshed into a post such as this one.

Hello, oh highlights of May with a dash of June.

The month began with the annual Kentucky Derby hat competition with my classes. Once again, it was a hit and the creativity was spectacular.

Zach rocked the football field in his team's quest to win the championship. Alas, they got fourth when the match ended in penalty kicks. I was at the game, but cannot give a detailed description of the agonizing final moments since I was team doctor for the field vying for the championship. In the final moments, a goalie and striker decided to head butt. It resulted in a lot of torn skin, blood, and a crowd that had no concept of first aid and was more interested in taking pictures. It was a bloody mess, and in the midst of this mess is where Zach found me to rehash the final moments of his game.

Brian joined us for a weekend staycation, With him, we took our first ride in one of the white golf carts that drive erratically around campus. It was quite enjoyable.  

Competitions and performances are scheduled nearly every night during May. What we are not judging, we attend because we love supporting our students and we never know what kind of hilarity may ensue.

Towards the end of May (and the semester), this is what our classes look like and what I feel like internally.

The first day of June, I went downtown with one of my classes to watch them perform in a Children's Day performance. Unbeknownst to me, it was at a kindergarten where I know many of the teachers. My students were stunned when I was met with hugs and boisterous greetings.

On the first Saturday of June, I took part in the annual GDOU swimming competition. Two years ago, I was beaten in the 50m freestyle race by an unknown competitor. Due to my sister's wedding I was unable to compete last year. This year, I hoped for a rematch and for the result to be in my favor.

It was.

I beat her to the wall by two and a half seconds.

I went on to win the 100m freestyle race later in the day.

As always, it is one of my favorite days on campus.