It's Not Too Late

I recently had the honor of visiting Lingyuan, a city in the Hunan countryside, with my friends, June and Rock. The visit was billed as the opportunity to visit Meishan Dragon Palace, a cave near June’s hometown, but my favorite part of the trip was far less exciting for everyone else.

Hundreds of years ago June’s ancestors began work on a family compound that still stands today. The large, traditional home was build so that there would be adequate room for the entire, extended family to live comfortably together. June’s family must have been wealthy when the home was built, as it is very intricate and ornate. Each door is adorned with a carved relief depicting some aspect of daily life. Carvings were used to decorate other parts of the home as well. Needless to say, the home is beautiful.



Time, however, has definitely taken a toll on the home. During the Cultural Revolution, Mao’s government demanded that the heads be removed from all the reliefs and so nearly every door has been defaced. Additionally, many of the other carvings have been exposed to the elements for sometime and show considerable wear.

Years ago, the Chinese government purchased the home from June’s family to protect and restore it. The family hadn’t actually lived in the home for some time, so they were happy to sell it. Unfortunately, the government hasn’t actually done any of the promised restorations. A 300 year old, traditional bed is simply sitting in a moldy, dusty room, more than likely on its way to ruin. Other aspects of the home and quickly falling into disrepair and likely won’t last much longer.

Like many other historical relics, the Chinese have fallen far behind on their upkeep. During the Cultural Revolution, many beautiful and time-honored Chinese buildings and temples were lost forever. Therefore, the Chinese can’t afford to lose any more of these pieces of history. If the government doesn’t quickly step up and take action, we could have nothing left for future generations to enjoy. As I don’t see government and popular opinion changing anytime soon, this is a real fear. But it's not too late, a change could still happen.

Be Prepared

I used to joke that I allot over an hour for a 25 minutes commute because I can’t ever been sure that a spaceship won’t land on the bridge I take the get to school. While this is an exaggeration, it isn’t far from the truth. In China, I need to be prepared for absolutely anything to happen.

There are two main reasons for this need. The first is that I can’t read or understand Chinese. A few weeks ago I noticed a piece of paper taped to a wall near my apartment. The other people living in the community all took a quick look at the paper before moving on with their day. All I knew was that obviously it contained some information that I should probably know about. The following Saturday, I woke up and went about my business. I put a load of laundry in my washer and was about to brush my teeth when I realized that my water was off. I called two of my friends who live in the apartment complex. The both confirmed that they too, had no water. From my best guess, the water was turned off from 10:00am-8:00pm. Perhaps the water had been halted for repairs (though I didn’t see any), but in all likelihood, had I been able to read the posted sign a few days before, I would have been aware of the fact that my water supply was going to be cut off for ten hours the following Saturday. Unfortunately, I could not. Luckily this was all not a big problem. It just meant that I had soapy clothes sitting in a washer all day and that I smelled.

The second cause for my cluelessness is that for some reason, Chinese people don’t share information as readily as I might like them to. I have a liaison, named Amy, whose job it is to help me with my life in China and tell me what’s going on at school. It’s not that Amy’s malicious or mean, in fact I really like her a lot and I know that she does the best that she can to help me, but she often doesn’t clue me into to changes to the school schedule or activities going on at school until the last possible minute or at all. A few weeks ago I showed up to school in time to be ready for my 1:45 class. Everything was going normally until at exactly 1:36 Amy told me that the entire afternoon schedule would be pushed back 30 minutes for the rest of the school year. Rather than having 10 minutes until my class began, I had 40. (Better that I was too early than too late, I guess).

10 minutes warning was actually not all that bad. Just yesterday I asked Amy if there was anything I should know about this week. She said that nothing at all special was going on this week. Only a short while later I found out that in fact there was something special going on that very afternoon. My students let me know that they would be competing in a basketball tournament starting during the 8th period. 2 hours since I asked, 1 thing it might have been nice to tell Ashley. This morning I woke up to find out that today is the anniversary of Sichuan earthquake the killed hundreds of students last year. At 2:28pm there was to be a moment of silence to remember all those who lost their lives. 22 hours since I asked, 2 things it might have been nice to tell Ashley. We’re at about 36 hours since I spoke to Amy about this week’s schedule. We’ll have to wait and see how many more things will end up surprising me.

After almost 10 months in China, these things hardly bother me anymore. I’ve gotten completely used to having little to no warning. If I ever get asked in an interview if I’m a flexible person, I’ll just have to answer that I’ve had a year of full time flexibility training and wouldn’t have a problem working around a spaceship in the office.

A Traditional Wedding

A few years ago I watched a show on HGTV about a western couple who paired up with an Indian-American couple to plan a traditional Indian wedding. The Indian-American couple had recently got married themselves, so they were able to walk the American couple through the wedding process. They helped them pick out saris, get the bride’s hands hennaed, and plan the procession. At the time I thought the idea was kind of cool, but something that I would never do.

This past weekend I attended a traditional Chinese wedding in Zhuzhou. A friend of a friend’s cousin was getting married and some how the invitation got passed down the line to me. I had close to no idea what I was getting myself into when I went to Shen Long Park on Saturday morning at 8:00 am to meet Katie, our Chinese friend.

In typical Chinese fashion, we all waited along side the road for the wedding procession to appear. The group was made up of a band of traditional Chinese instruments, the groom on a horse, and a group of men carrying a sedan chair. Everyone was dressed in red and yellow clothing. After taking a number of pictures, we joined the procession and walked to the bride’s house to pick her up. No Chinese event is complete without fireworks, so a number were set off. At this point the groom entered the bride’s house to meet her for the “first time”. (Although this was a traditional wedding ceremony, courtship and engagement, were not. Apparently the couple had been dating for several years.) The groom led the bride out of the house with a red rope and she got into her sedan chair. We then processed with the bride and groom to the groom’s family’s house.

Once we got to the second home, the bride and groom went into the house, while the guests waited in front. There was a drum show and then a dragon dancing show for the guests to enjoy while the couple and a few close family members changed their clothes and took a rest in the house.

At some point after this, Katie told us that the wedding was over. It was incredibly interesting to watching this ancient ceremony take place. There was no exchanging of rings or wedding vows. The act of picking up the bride at her house and transporting her to her new home served the same purpose that the ring and I dos do in western weddings.

Years ago, when I watched that show on HGTV, I thought that I would never want to have a traditional wedding from another culture that my husband and I don’t belong to. I thought about all the western couple was giving up; the white dress, the church ceremony, the white cake. After going to this Chinese wedding, the idea seems a lot more interesting. I guess I’ve just started to think about all the cool things you gain; in site into another culture, an amazing story, the ability to open your guest’s eyes to something new. It could be something I want to look into when it’s my turn to get married. I just need to find a husband first.

Describe Your Hero

This week my students and I are talking about heroes and superheroes. The lesson idea was created by my friend, David, and he's been so kind as to let me borrow it. The students really love talking about their favorite action figures like Kung Fu Panda, Pikachu, and Kobe Bryant. At the end of the lesson I ask the students to write 5 sentences about their favorite hero or superhero. While I'm sure to have more funny ones as the week progresses, I thought I'd get the ball rolling with this one. The following is the work of a student from class 11.

My favorite hero is Deng Deng Juan. She is my classmate. She is 12 years old. She has a fat face. She is a good student.

What Is Rude?

If I walked up to you, tapped your stomach, and said, “you’re a little fatter than you were,” I’m sure you’d think I was rude and I would have to agree. When a Chinese person does and says the exact same thing, they do not consider themselves rude. In the Chinese culture, excessive bluntness is not considered impolite in any way, so things that I consider offensive are said to me and my friends almost daily. It’s moments like these that I remember that what is and isn’t considered rude has changes not only from time period to time period, but from culture to culture as well. And it’s not that one is more right than the other, they’re just different.

I’m not going to lie; there are times that this specific aspect of Chinese custom really gets on my nerves. Most days, however, the “rude” things people say are just make me laugh. Here is a quick list of such comments from the past week:

1. Your nail polish is strange and ugly.
2. Do you think you are a little fat?
3. The class you teach is a joke.
4. Spoken English is broken English.
5. The pork is very hard.
6. He said that he thinks you are fat.

Drink Hot Water

Certainly no matter where you are around the world, people will have suggestions to offer on how to cure a cold. In the US, I believe the most common pieces of advice would be drink more, take some type of cold medication, and get as much rest as you can. As many things are different than that of my home country, it’s not surprising that the Chinese have very ‘unusual’ suggestions on how to cure the common cold. The following list is a collection of suggestions which were either given to me or people I know.

1. Drink hot water.
2. Drink hot water with honey in it.
3. Drink hot water with medicine in it.
4. Drink hot water with lemon in it.
5. Drink hot water with salt in it.
6. Drink hot water with tea.
7. Don’t drink hot water.*
8. Don’t drink tea.
9. Drink room temperature water.* (You would have to microwave water to get it to “room temperature,” as the weather here is so cold that room temperature water is actually rather cold.)
10. Drink cold drinks.
11. Don’t drink cold drinks.*
12. Drink juice.
13. Only drink water.
14. Eat meat.
15. Don’t eat meat.
16. Eat spicy foods as long as your stomach feels ok.
17. Don’t eat spicy foods, regardless of how your stomach feels.
18. Take a rest.
19. Eat oranges, but not too many because they give you acne.
20. Eat some vegetables, but not too much eggplant because it makes you skin darker.
21. Make sure to keep the doors of your classroom open to protect against the flu.
22. Go to the hospital where they will most assuredly give you an IV.

* The stared suggestions were offered to one of my students, who was so sick that she was crying in my class. Rather than send her home or let her rest in her office, the nurse (the medical professional employed by the school to assist over 3,000 students) told her these things.

Clearly old wives tales persist in China. It is amazing the number of contradictory suggestions I received this week, most of them dealing with the temperature of my beverages and what should be in them. Several people encouraged me to visit any type of medical professional. And one other person suggested a mystery medication that is put in tea. The rest would just have me drinking some type of fix all drink, though what exactly that is varies. This all leads me to believe that world wide study on the topic of the common cold would be incredibly interesting.

A Friend Who Knows How We Feel!

Being a foreigner in China poses a unique set of problems that not many can relate to. As I mentioned in this post back in early December, Mickey Mouse is one of the few that can. You can, therefore, imagine my surprise when my friends and I came across him and his girl, Minnie, while walking around Zhuzhou this morning. As we are both often photographed, we decided to get a quick shot together!

Careful When Using the Crosswalk

During the past several months Zhuzhou City has been on a campaign to curb (pun intended) jay walkers. There are elderly crossing-guards posted on every corner poised to give you a 20 RMB (about $3.00) ticket for crossing the street where you shouldn't. I've been complaining about how ridiculous I thought this was because the crusade is not coupled with the requirement that drivers in turn respect the crosswalk (or follow any traffic laws at all it seems). Today that fateful day arrived; the day I was proven correct. On my way to school today I heard the sound of screeching tires come to a stop and saw everyone on the bus stand up to look at a women on the ground in front of a taxi in the middle of a crosswalk. I'm glad to see these new laws are protecting the citizens of Zhuzhou. Oh, China!

Gong Xi Fa Cai - Hong Bao Na Lai!

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!

2009, the Year of the Bull!

Legend tells of a legendary warrior…

About one day before it was too late I found out that I was required to give final exams to my students. Not just final any exam mind you, oral final exams, which means I had to speak to all 720 of my students one-on-one. I decided the most efficient and painless way to do this was to bring the students out into the hall nine at a time and have them fill in the following prompt: “Hello, Teacher Ashley. My English name is _____. My birthday is _____. I like to eat _____.”

You may be wondering why I would bring them out nine at a time. This was done for several reasons. 1. There is less dead time taken up by switching when the class is broken up into only six groups. 2. There are 9 students seated in each row. 3. Chinese students are “all up in each other’s business,” as some might say, so they have no problem testing in front of their peers. It’s normal for others to know how you did. Their grades for each class are posted up on the wall, listed by name, so it’s no secret which students are doing poorly. Well, it’s a secret to me, as I can’t read their names, but that’s a different story.

My final exam testing plan worked beautifully. I was able to test up to 64 students in less than 40 minutes and the students did very well. While I was testing students in the hall, I had to figure out a way to entertain the other 50 of them. Before Christmas I decided to show them a few Christmas specials, like How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, and The Snowman. After Christmas, however, I needed to find something else, so I turned to 功夫熊猫, which most of you know as Kung Fu Panda.

I’d never seen the film before showing it to the class, but I knew that they would love it. I finished the exams quicker than I had originally anticipated, so I ended up watching a majority of the movie close to 10 times. The movie’s really pretty good. It should tell you something that I haven’t gouged my eyes out yet; I watched it every day for the past 6 days, plus several additional days last week.

In many ways the movie, which is set in China, gives a pretty good representation of what it’s like to live in China. The country is populated by talking animals, everyone worships the Furious 5, and ducks have pandas as children. Just kidding. In all honesty though, apart from the obvious things, the movie is rather realistic. Noodle shops are popular, children love kung fu, children of shop owners are often expected to carry on the family business, and the mountains really are that beautiful. Disney obviously did a great deal of in country research before making this film. I was actually surprised how “China” it is. I think I might be in the perfect position to enjoy this film. No only do I speak fluent English and understand American humor, but I have a greater understanding of the Chinese culture and lifestyle than the average person. So if you’re in the mood for a good animated movie about China, Kung Fu Panda is my recommendation of the moment. I’ll have to watch Mulan again to see how she stacks up to my Life in China Test...

You're Too Old

Since many of you like to see me make a fool of myself, I thought I’d thought I’d post the video of my portion of the skit I was in with the Junior 1 teachers.

Background: The man in the orange shirt has a special cell phone that allows him to “order” women. He ordered several other girls, which he turned away for various reasons. He then orders an English speaking girl (me) and is just meeting her for the first time.

Translation:
Man: Excuse me, excuse me … [something actually I don’t understand].
Me: I don’t speak Chinese.
Man: What? You don’t speak Chinese?
Me: Umm, I don’t understand you. I don’t speak Chinese.
Man: Oh, she doesn’t speak Chinese. Go home. I don’t want a girl that I can’t talk to. Go. Go.
Me: You’re too old. I don’t want you. I’m leaving.

Continuation: The man chases me off the stage shouting, “What?! You do speak Chinese? Come back! Come back!” He eventually gets over me and ends the skit with another girl.

Hope you enjoyed watching me act like an idiot in front of my colleagues... again.

The Exception

To every rule there is an exception. Naturally, Inability-to-plan-itis is not immune to this phenomenon. In this case, the exception is what any Chinese English-speaker would call “performances.” As someone who is fluent in Chinglish, I would translate “performance” as “a variety show” in standard English. The Chinese have no problem planning their beloved performances far in advance and as long as they hold a particular performance in high regard, it will go off without a hitch. (Note: In Chinglish, a performance is made up of many small performances. Please don’t be confused.)

Variety show is, in my opinion, the best way to describe these performances. There is always a few host and hostess that introduce the extremely varied acts. At first I thought that signing, dancing, and putting on skits were acceptable acts for a Chinese performance. I later learned, however, that a fashion show and “an interesting conversation with a very handsome man” are fabulous ideas for performances as well. The Chinese also love a performance where one student sits behind a chair and talks, while a second student sits on the chair and acts out what the other students is saying. This is by far the most confusing type of performance to a westerner. I haven’t met one who understands why that is funny.

The day Amy and the other school officials picked Kelly, Ryan, and I up in Changsha, Kelly and I were told that we should prepare a performance for the New Year’s Eve party. Although we were ignorant at the time, this announcement should have clued us in to how important performances are in Zhuzhou. The school is unable to tell us more than a few hours in advance that school is cancelled for the day, but they know months in advance that a performance will be held on December 31st, and that Kelly and I will star in it. Oh, Inability-to-plan-itis!

A few days before Christmas, my friend Bridget invited me to a performance at Nanfang Middle School, where she is one of the foreign teachers. This was only my first real taste of Chinese performances and should have been my second warning as to what I had been signed up for on New Year’s Eve.

When we arrived at Nanfang’s Christmas performance security guards were stationed at the doors of the gymnasium to keep the older students out and to let all the little primary school students who were caked in makeup in. This was a serious matter. The place was packed with the primary and junior school students, more than I could imagine. As a foreigner, I was given a place of honor at the front and a lovely wallet as a Christmas gift, even though I have no connection with the school. For the next three hours I was treated to a string of acts put on by the students of the school. A rock band with 12 guitars, skits in Chinese and English, a fashion show, and dance groups ranging from exercise routines, break dancing, children’s dancing, and dancing far to sexy for any American high school filled out the program. It was a fun evening and it should have tipped me off as to what to expect at the Jing Yan’s New Year’s Eve performances.

In the morning of December 31st, Kelly and I walked with the 3,000 students in our school about a half of a mile through town to a Factory 602 (inventive, I know). Once there, we entered the basketball gym where a stage had been set up for the occasion. For the next three hours, a select group of students put on a show for their peers. I have to admit that these performances were not as interesting as those as my last performance. The students were competing in some type of competition that I was never really able to figure out. For some reason the same kids appeared on stage over and over again. Additionally, the number of skits and other language-based acts were a lot larger at this performance than at Nanfang. Chinese language skits are only interesting for so long. This wasn’t even the show that Kelly and I were instructed to perform in. That one was in the afternoon!

Later that day, Kelly and I went to the Huatian Hotel, the nicest in Zhuzhou, for the teacher’s performance. The acts were more of the same type of thing. I participated in a skit with the Junior 1 teachers and well as sang a song with Kelly. We decided to sing a song that was popular in Europe in 2003 and is now popular among Chinese middle school students and in the clubs called “God is a Girl.” I’m not sure how we did. While some teachers complimented us on our singing, I don’t really think it was a hit. We’re beginners at this whole performance thing.

Whatever you call Chinese performances – boring, mildly ridiculous, overdone, silly – you can’t call them disorganized. These shows are planned at least weeks in advance and often the highlight of a particular holiday season. One has to wonder why these performances so important and how they get planned so well. Nobody plans anything else throughout the year, so how does it all get done? And if things can be organized for this one event, why can’t it be done for other things, like the school calendar? Oh China! Oh Inability-to-plan-itis!

Announcing the Discovery of "Inability-to-plan-itis" in Central China

I may have mentioned before that the Chinese are not known for their planning skills. Their trains run late. The ticket sales for the trains is a mess. They don’t have school calendars because they don’t know the schedule of school holidays and breaks until days before. They inform you of rather vital pieces of information about three seconds before it is too late. The list could go on and on, but this is nothing new. So why devote a blog post to it? Here’s why: The inability of my school’s officials to plan reached a new, surprising level today.

A few months ago the English department head told me to start planning a “performance” for Christmas time with the students in my English Corner. English Corner is a select group of students from each class who come for what is essentially an extra oral English class every week. “Come” is a term that is used loosely here as students are more than often absent from English Corner. They typically can’t come to class because they have to do things that their head teacher has deemed more important during the time that my class is scheduled. You may agree that running around the track, cleaning the school, and practicing writing are all far more important than an extra English class held by the most unimportant teacher at the school.

At any rate, I was instructed to produce four “performances” with each of my two English Corners. When I asked what type of “performances” they were looking for, my liaison replied, “Maybe the students can sing, dance, do a skit, or whatever you want. It’s up to you.” Using these loose instructions, I came up with a program for each class. My Tuesday class would sing two Christmas songs, recite a traditional Christmas poem, and present a Christmas themed acrostic and the Thursday class would do a variation on the same.

For the last two months the few students who attend class and I have been working hard to get our acts ready. We’ve drawn, colored, practiced our lines, and learned our lyrics. It was quite a challenge to get the students ready when I couldn’t really be sure who would be on hand from week to week or if a specific student would ever be present again. There were times that I felt like I was being given an impossible task, but I am really pleased with the show that my students and I are ready to put on.

Late Thursday afternoon I found out from my liaison that a rehearsal for the performance was scheduled for the next day and that the students and their parents had been informed that the show would be on the following Monday. When pressed for details, she said that our little shindig would begin at 7:00 pm in the music room. I was give four whole days notice! I should have known it was too good to be true.

Today, I arrived at school ready for the performance in the evening. During my second class of the day a student asked me if we would be practicing the Twelve Days of Christmas at English Corner on Tuesday. I said that we wouldn’t because the performance would be over. “No,” she said, “the performance will not be over. It is not today.” A little confused, I went back to my office after class to find out what was going on. My sitemate, Kelly, informed me that the performances had indeed been postponed. Apparently our liaison told her that there were no free rooms to hold our mini-Christmas pageant. Who in the world schedules a variety show that students and teachers have been working on for months without checking if there are any open rooms, you ask? Chinese middle school officials, that’s who.

When I told my friend, Caroline, the story of the ill planned pageant she knew all too well where I’m coming from. She said, “I think Chinese middle school administrators are allergic to planning ahead… This is what I think our school says sometime, ‘The foreigners want to know what's going on, but we refuse to make firm plans for anything, so let’s just tell them something and change it at the last minute’.” I think she’s right. They have no idea what's going on themselves, so they just make up details to keep us quiet.

I've decided to named this allergy "Inability-to-plan-itis" and plan on setting up a support group nearly next year called Inability-to-plan-itis Anonymous (or ITPA). I'll have to plan everything myself: left to their own devices nothing would ever be scheduled.

The latest news is that the performance will be held, “later this week or next week.” I’m not going to hold my breath.

Friends Don't Let Friends Stare and Walk

A few days ago, my dear friend, Bridget, and I were walking down the street when a woman started to stare at us. As this is nothing new, (read previous post) we thought nothing of it and would probably not remember it today. Except that unfortunately for the woman, she didn’t stop to gawk at us; she kept walking, right into a large box. She toppled headfirst into the empty box and had to be helped out by a friend. Everyone around started to laugh at her while they continued to watch Bridget and I walk away. Apparently we’re more exciting than a woman in a box.

Let that be a lesson to you. Stop walking when you begin to ogle at the next Caucasian you see. Staring and walking don't mix.

I am Mickey Mouse

Imagine you are walking down the street of your hometown and you see Mickey Mouse coming toward you. As you watch, Mickey stops at a street vendor to buy an afterschool snack. He’s just doing everyday, normal things. You don’t worry about staring at the mouse, because it’s not rude, right? He’s the one wearing a huge Mickey Mouse costume and you don’t see that every day, so you might as well get a good look while you can. If you’re with a small child you more than likely point out the large mouse to them. You’ll probably encourage your child to say hello and they’ll have one of two reactions. The child will either become rather frightened or stare with large, excited eyes at Mickey. You might ask to if your child, or you for that matter, could get a quick picture with the superstar. Or maybe you just try to snap a quick picture without asking. You can only hope that your child will remember the day they saw Mickey walking down the street. When you go home that night you might tell your family and friends about how you saw Mickey around town and show them the picture the two of you took together. How exciting!

When in China, I am Mickey Mouse. My Caucasian skin and bone structure serve as my costume. Even my huge feet parallel Mickey’s oversized feet.

From the moment I step out my door in the morning until the second I return home in the evening I am stared at. It’s not that I’m conceded; it’s just a fact of life for a foreigner living in central China. It would happen to you as well if you were here. And sitting at your computer in your American home with insulation and indoor heating, you may think you know how this feels, but unless you are a celebrity, this is almost impossible to imagine. Every single movement you make is scrutinized by the on-looking public. You can’t feel lost, confused, or upset without many other people knowing and commenting to their friends about you. To compound the matter, staring isn’t considered rude in Chinese culture. Thus Chinese people stare unabashedly, the way many Americans would if they saw Mickey Mouse shopping at the local grocery store.

I don’t mention this phenomenon to complain or fuss about it, but rather because I just thought of the Mickey Mouse analogy this morning and I think works quite well. I admit that at first it was bothersome having my every move watched, but I’m over it now. I don’t particularly like everyone watching me all the time, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I might as well not let it trouble me. For the sake of Mickey’s feeling, however, you might consider not staring if you see him at the mall. I know how he feels and he would probably appreciate the short break from stardom.

Roller-skating, Chinese Style

When I was younger one thing I really loved to do with my family and friends was to go roller-skating at the Castle Roller Rink. Not only is the façade of the building “super cool,” but also many hours of pure fun were spent inside. I always preferred to rent the skates rather than bring my own from home, because the rented ones rolled much smoother over the bright blue rink.

So when my friend Tiffany suggested that we go roller skating here in Zhuzhou as a part of her birthday celebration, I was definitely in support of the idea. Following a wonderful Italian dinner, a group of eight of my American friends headed over to the roller skating rink, which is located above an open air market. After paying 5 kuai ($0.74) for our entrance and skate rental fee, I received a pair of skates that surely would have been retired from use many years ago at the Castle. Let’s just say I did take a moment to think about how bad it would be should the wheels decide to fall off my skates at sometime during the night. This was the one time that I wish I could have brought my own skates from home. We all know that was possible, so I bravely strapped on the skates and made my way onto the rink. The floor appeared to be a smooth wooden planked surface, but as many things in China, looks can be deceiving. When I skated with the grain of the wood, it was quite smooth. Skating against the grain of the wood was a different story. This was just the first of many things that reminded me I was not at the Castle and not in the US.

I haven’t been to the Castle in many years, but I remember that they have a large poster displaying about 10 rules near the entrance door. Although I can’t recall every one and I surely don’t remember the exact phrasing of the posted rules at the Castle, the rules below capture their general objectives.

1. No smoking while skating.
2. No skating against the flow of the other skaters.
3. If you fall down, stand up and continue to skating as soon as possible.
4. No skating in an unsafe manner.
5. No littering on the rink floor.

Let’s just suffice it to say that the Chinese skaters didn’t feel the need to follow any of the above rules. Skating with a lit cigarette was not uncommon. While about 75% of the skaters were skating in a counter-clockwise direction, 25% felt compelled to skate in the opposite direction. Following an accident (I admit it, I personally caused at least 2 of these said skating accidents), the involved parties would stay seated on the floor for up to several minutes until they decided to stand up again. Skating at high speeds, forwards or backwards, and many other skating tricks of questionable safety could be seen all over the rink. Extinguished cigarette butts, betel nuts, and empty snack wrappers littered the floor. The Castle owners would not have been happy with the situation at all.

How did I moderately safely navigate this mess of a skating rink you ask yourself? Well, here’s your answer. On every trip I’ve taken in China, a random Chinese person has come up to my party and asked us, “Can I be your guide?” The Chinese love to offer themselves out as guides. Occasionally they are professional guides. More often, however, they are locals who would like to take the opportunity to guide us around as a way to practice English. The skating rink was no different, though in this case they didn’t ask. After an introductory three laps, two Chinese college students came by and grabbed my hands. For the next hour or so, they lead me around the floor, helping me avoid many a catastrophe and teaching me the ways of the Chinese roller rink. I’m quite certain I would have fallen many more times had I not had the help of my “guides.”

Once again, I entered a situation thinking that I had some idea of what was going to happen. I thought I knew what it means to go to the skating rink. And as it happens so often in China, I’m was proven wrong. I had no idea what I was in for. The Chinese needed guide me, to help me do things their way. I’m just glad they’re willing to do so, at the skating rink and in everyday life. If the Chinese were not so willing to help a poor foreigner out, my stay in China would likely be far less enjoyable.

One Hundred and One Days

It is today, on my 101st day in China, that I have decided to take a moment to reflect of on my time abroad thus far. What have these days, that have simultaneously flown and crawled by, taught me about China? In the midst of missing home and liking it here, what have I learned about the Chinese people? Certainly the busy times of travel and the quietness of my apartment have bestowed something upon me. If anything, I have learned this:

The Chinese people are indelicate.
They spit on the street.
They push.
They catcall white women like it’s their job.
They eat very loudly.
They stare.
They are incredibly blunt.
They go to the bathroom on the street.
They are loud.
They fight in public a lot.

The Chinese people are quirky.
They wear red stilettos and blue polyester running suits at the same time.
They bring animals of all kinds on the public bus.
They have no personal space and assume I don’t either.
They snack on spicy chicken feet in a bag.
They can’t seem to plan anything.
They pair jogging pants with a suit jacket and call it fashion.
They have a very monotonous diet.
They don’t have the slightest understanding of what Playboy is.
They enjoy a good piece of stinky tofu every now and then.

The Chinese people are friendly.
They will try to move mountains for me.
They try their best to understand my unbelievably broken Chinese.
They are gracious.
They get up to give me a seat on the bus.
They are thoughtful.
They take time to drive me across town even though we just met and can barely communicate.
They are worried about my safety and wellbeing.
They say "hi" when they see me around town.
They are caring.
They try to help me as much as they can.
They are so glad to meet me.

In 101 days I’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of what it means to be Chinese and live in central China. I know China has so much left to teach me and I’m ready to learn. If my time here so far has been any indication, I’m in for another 230 days of pure madness.

Poor dogs

In addition to the 12 classes I teach weekly, I also lead two “English Corners.” These classes are made up of the best four students in each class (as chosen by their Chinese English teachers). Although there has been a room assignment problem during every single English Corner and getting things started has never been easy, these have quickly become some of my favorite class periods. I love working with a smaller number of students (32 in each class) at a higher level. The students are far more driven to learn English and a majority are very lively and participate. I’m able to have the students do more interesting activities in class and get them up out of their seats.

Because the Chinese school system focuses on the one “right” answer to every problem, there is little room for creativity and students tend to struggle when I ask them to come up with something on their own. It has become my personal goal to allow (and, in some cases, teach) the students in these smaller classes to be more creative. In order to get them talking and get their creative juices flowing, we made up stories as a group last week. I started the students off with a prompt like, “yesterday my mother moved to the moon,” and had them make up the rest of the story, one sentence at a time. They came up with some pretty interesting ideas. Surprisingly, eating hair and talking bugs was an integral part of the plot in both classes. It must be a Chinese thing.

Building off the activity from last week, I had them come up with a stories in small groups this week. The prompt was, “yesterday my mom bought me a dog,” and after 10 minutes to prepare, I had the students share their stories with the whole class. Here is one example. I left their mistakes to give you an idea of the level that the best students are working at.

I have a small dog, it’s white. Yestoday we going to naterpark [nature park], The naterpark have many animal. It’s very happy, I’m happy, too!
-written by Shuke, Ford, Anita, and Andy.

You may think it’s not much of a story, but I can’t express how pleased I was when they shared that story with the class. I’m happy when they stay on task and speak English, so I guess it doesn’t take much to thrill me. Here’s a second example.

If I have a little dog. I will playing game with it! and I will give it name. It name is “Mike Jackson hot dog.” Last, I will eating this dog. The dog is very healg [tasty].
-written by Tom Brown, Roy, Harry, Jake, and Tom.

The dog that was eaten in the last story was not a hot dog, but an actual dog. Another story featured a dog name Alice that was consumed by the student’s father. In fact, the dogs in four out of the five stories became dinner before the story was finished.

While it is common to eat dogs in China, it is uncommon to eat animals that were formerly pets. The dogs that become dinner are raised on farms for their meat and are available for purchase at the market. According to many of my Chinese friends, dog meat warms you in the winter and is enjoyed by most girls. Although I am worried about staying warm this winter, I don’t think I’m going to try that specific method.

The stories just prove that apparently I need to think more closely about the animals I choose for my story prompts, if I don’t want to the animals to dinner at the end. Actually, I’m not exactly sure what animal would be safe choice. Maybe giant pandas...

Fireworks!

I think that it is common knowledge that I love fireworks. During the week before and after the 4th of July I can be found driving vast distances to see a good fireworks show. I love the flash of color followed by the sharp sound. While I can remember covering my ears from the boom of sound as a child, I can’t remember being afraid of a quality fireworks display. Being that fireworks were invented in China during the 12th century, I expected that the Chinese would share my love of exploding pyrotechnic stars. I was, however, enormously mistaken. The Chinese don’t merely love fireworks, they are obsessed with them.
During the 12th century fireworks were used by the Chinese people to ward of evil spirits. I have to say that I’ve become a believer. How else would you explain the complete lack of evil spirits in China today? I mean, if I was an evil spirit I would definitely get out of here. The number of fireworks set off every single day is unbelievable. I’ve been in China for about 80 days and I think I can count the number of fireworks-less days I’d had since then on one hand. The Chinese use fireworks to celebrate a birth, a death, a wedding, a holiday, and the grand-opening of a new place of business. I am personally convinced that fireworks also mark the availability of oranges at the market, Tuesdays, and the successful crossing of the street by elderly women. With all these things to celebrate, hearing fireworks is not at all uncommon.
Because the Chinese have so many events to celebrate and many more fireworks to shoot off, they are unable to discriminate on the time of day that they set them off. In the US we generally prefer to view a fireworks display in the dark or, at the very least, dusk. The Chinese do not have this luxury. Darkness does not cover the land long enough. Perhaps for this reason they choose to set off fireworks at any time of day. Today, for example, I was lucky enough to hear a firework display at 6:00am, 7:30am, and 10:45am. You might be wondering how fireworks can be properly seen in the daylight. The answer is simple; they can’t. You are just able to hear loud blasts, which the first few times made me wonder if the city was under attack. In fact, while traveling I met two Israelis who said: “This morning we were awoken by fireworks. Being from Jerusalem, we thought it was gun fire and immediately ducked for cover.”
Personally, I think I’m suffering from fireworks overload and can feel my love of exploding chemicals dying within me, which saddens me greatly. I only hope I’ll be able to recover once I return to the US.