I'm Not Dead Yet

Ok, so connections here have still been, well, a bit sketchy. At best. That's made communication with the outside world, shall we say, difficult.  (We shall.)  This is the first time I've had uninterrupted access on one of my personal devices in months.  I'm actually in another city now, waiting to catch a flight to India. So, who knows what my technological ability will be there, but I'll try to post some of the excitement that's happened recently (as well as what's bound to happen soon) when I'm back to the states in a couple of weeks or so.

Chalkboard Tuesday

"Mourn...lament...we are in the classroom" = connection??

What do Thanksgiving, the past 3 weeks and Shanghai have in common?

They all happened when I didn't have a good connection and therefore couldn't make an update.  Sad day.  Actually, I only have a decent connection now because I'm bumming off a friend.  A very kind, generous, and more technologically endowed friend.  So, none of my pics are on this computer.  Word on the street is my connection should be restored sometime this week.  I'm not holding my breath.  Anyhow, all that to say: Yes, I'm still alive.  Things are going well.  I hope to post more when things are properly restored.

Chalkboard Tuesday

Ah, if only all my college students would come to know the importance of learning.

Chalkboard Tuesday

Really complicated version of tic tac toe?

MidTerms, Glorious MidTerms

Giving and grading exams can be a lot of work.  The school requires the final exam for my lecture courses to have 5 sections, so I thought I'd give my students a taste of what that will look like on their midterms.

I walked into one class and this was on the blackboard:

Indeed.

Considering I have about 500 or so students, it's really in my the students' (It's all about the students.  Really.) best interest to design a test that won't take an infinite amount of time to grade...so short, simple answers it is!  Some of my favorites are below.

As opposed to all those immoral born Americans.

Oh, yes.  The good ol' days of feudalism.

My favorite vacation spot, hands down.

Sounds legit.

King Henry VIII's Religious Reformation - "To bring people to be perfect and build a warmly country."  Divorcing that pesky wife in favor of his mistress was just a bonus.

Think the Brits know?

Confucius, a strong pillar of Western culture.

Feeding people to lions, using them as torches...epitome of human rights, no?

Times were rough for Confucianists in post-colonial America.

I don't care if he's dead, he's the only acceptable candidate!

No, wait...there's one more!

My hand got away from me before I even realized while grading this one.

Appreciate your honesty.

Great news, Mom!

Those Romans were so forward thinking.

Maybe according to Thomas Hobbes.  (A little Enlightenment philosophy humor...anyone? Anyone??)

No, and it's not the state penitentiary either.

Yes, his desire to render himself useless simply could not be quenched.

I also had several answers to that last question stating that King Henry VIII wished to "devoice" his wife.  Call me a sucker, but I gave them credit - whether they intended to write "divorce," were referring to sending the first wife to a nunnery, or were referring to cutting off the second wife's head, it was certainly all an effective means of devoicing the women into a nice, quiet submission.

Chalkboard Tuesday

Your guess is as good as mine.

Chalkboard Tuesday

Huh.  Turns out math is just as "easy" for me to understand in Chinese as it is in English.

On the Mend

Well, it was a pretty rough 24 hours, but now (in the following 24 hours) I've been successfully able to keep down a full glass of gatorade, a piece of toast and glass of ginger tea.  So, I'm calling it - I'm going to go ahead and say I'm on the road to recovery.  It only took me about an hour and a half to eat the piece of toast!

All the same, thank goodness!  Although I know the docs here are quick to give out IV drips for just about anything that ails you, I was certainly not anxious to be poked with a needle of unknown origin.  One paragraph in particular from Peter Hessler's River Town comes to mind when I think of local hospital needles.  (It's a great book that I recommend for anyone interested in what life can be like for foreign teachers in China - though written fifteen years ago, his university's in the same municipality as ours.)

Anyhow, I'm off to try and conquer more toast.

"It's the Black Lung, Pop"

Laundry dried, but not put away.  Bed warmer left on all day.  Schedule cleared.  Constant streaming of absurd 90's sitcoms on Netflix.  Inauguration of the cozy Christmas socks my sister sent last year.  Toilet and toilet-side bucket disinfected more times in 24 hours than in the normal course of the entire year.  There can be only one reasonable explanation for all of this - illness.

Ok, so it's not the black lung.  It's more likely some kind of violent stomach bug.  Seriously though, if this thing were a convicted felon, the warden would totally place him in solitary for the duration of his sentence.  Hopefully my immune system's already on that.  For now, I'm fighting just to swallow a little liquid every couple of hours.  Honestly, I am a bit concerned about becoming too dehydrated because our town's not exactly known for its stellar medical care or facilities.

Frankly, the only thing I'd know how to explain to a doctor here would be that I don't feel comfortable (to put it mildly), I have pain (yep, just in general), that I have NOT caught a cold, and that my "cough" has...stuff.  A lot of stuff.  (You're welcome.)  Yet another reason I need to buckle down on my language studies, eh.

This summer I did my best to prepare by basically packing a corner Walgreens worth of goods from the states, but even the pretty, pink Pepto tablets refuse to stay where Procter & Gamble intended.  In the last two hours, I have successfully ingested about 1 oz of gatorade (thanks for that foresight, Dad!) and 1 ginger chew (pilfered from my dear roommate).  Strangely enough, the thing I've missed the most is having a bathtub that I could curl up next to and cool my forehead against while laying on the tiled floor.  Well, that and feeling normal, though the two hardly go hand in hand.

All that to say, if any of you are reading this and would like to ask for a little healthfulness and protection from our Father, it would not go unappreciated!  Likewise, I hope you are healthy and happy to the fullest.

Mr. Ed

One of the best things about my job is getting to have amazing, if not entirely puzzling, conversations with both my students and the locals on a regular basis.  One of our friends, Edward, has now won the prestige of an entire post dedicated to him due to his own unpredictable witticisms.  On two separate occasions he has made me laugh so long and hard that tears were literally streaming down my face as I attempted to hold my splitting sides together.

A little background, Edward is perhaps the nicest, most keqi (a Chinese word indicating an excess of politeness...frankly, almost too much) guy I think I've ever met.  And I'm from the South, y'all.  He is considerate to a fault, incredibly diplomatic in approaching perceived problems, and prides himself on being a fashionable dresser.  Overall, a pretty put-together guy.  As such, I think it's fair to say we've all grown accustomed to a certain standard of speech, etiquette, etc, etc from him.  So, you can imagine my surprise when he and a couple of students were visiting our apartment one evening and he cut off the conversation to say, "Ok, but let's get serious guys.  How about we take off our shirts and tell you about the real reason we're here?"  Uh, I'm sorry, WHAT?

Needless to say, my jaw completely dropped as I looked around to the other faces present as if to confirm what I'd just heard.  The only thought I was capable of was "WHAT is HAPPENING?!?"  It turns out that Arianne totally understood he was making a Friends reference and found it brilliant.  The shock of it all took a little longer for me get over and was only exacerbated when Edward was ruffled by what he deemed a total overreaction from those of us still cackling.  He tried to calmly repeat himself, but what came out instead was a rather flustered "Ok, seriously guys.  Let's just take off your shirts and tell you why we're here."  I'm sorry, that will not be happening, good sir.  Definitely one of my all time favorite moments here.

Last night, some friends were over and the topic of the recent sports meet came up.  Edward had participated in the long jump and triple jump, winning second in the latter.  He was explaining that the school's prizes were pretty weak (20RMB for 1st place (about $3USD), 16RMB for 2nd, and so on) compared to his high school meets.  He fondly recalled the high school prizes as such:

"Oh yes, first prize was a p-n."
"A what?"
"Well, not a pen...you cook with it...a pan."
"...for...a high school boy??"
"Yes."
"Oh. Ok.  What was second prize?"
"A mattress."
"I'm sorry...a...mattress, is it?  A pan and a mattress??"
"Yes.  They were very good quality."

The conversation went on to envision the flourish with which the presiding officials would have presented the champions with such illustrious gifts.  Ah, I guess money really would pale in comparison.

Thursday

Thursday morning I woke up at about 7 o'clock, grudgingly and repeatedly hitting the snooze until about 7:30.  When I was finally able to extricate myself from the warm cocoon of sheets, I dug around for my solid red t-shirt, made a quick decision overriding the choice of mildly-inappropriate-for-the-day's-tasks-but-oh-so-comfortable black yoga pants with the much-more-suitable black trousers, and shuffled out the door.

I made it to the designated meeting spot almost exactly on time and marveled at the ingenuity of the boys - they had all opted to wear a long-sleeved tee under their mandatory red t-shirts due to the chilly, November morning.  Not willing to simply resign myself to the cold, I decided to run back to my apartment and do the same.  I was then only 5 minutes late - so, still early by some cultural standards.

We formed up into the (almost) lines we were told, attempted to match our steps left-right-left! to the shouts of yi-er-yi! and practiced shouting something in Chinese, relatively unknown and untranslated.  (Little did I know how much later in life my marching band skills would come in handy.)  One of the newest foreign teachers nervously joked about hoping no pictures made it online due to fears of the US revoking his passport.  I'm pretty sure that fear slightly worsened when the only little blonde-haired, blue-eyed, two year old beauty in town started waving China's flag from atop her daddy's shoulders, much to the joy and admiration of the crowds, natch.

The weather was surprisingly clear for CQ.

As we marched onto the track surrounding the field, we were greeted with shouts, cheers, and excited waves from the overflowing stands.  When passing by the stage holding all the high officials and university leaders, we were instructed to turn our heads to the right, in their direction, as a means of salute greeting while continuing to march walk forward.  From there, we circled around to join all the other departments on the field and listened as the highest officials began the ceremonial events for which they (blissfully!) cancelled two days of class - a school-wide sports meet.

Stage hosting officials, surrounded by red lanterns/banners.

As the field was cleared, it was soon filled with hundreds performing traditional tai chi exercises to usher in the spirit of the events.  Almost all the other foreign teachers were then (for the first time) told they'd be participating in the basketball shooting competition starting...in five minutes.  I guess they'd already determined my level of sportiness from the games of ultimate frisbee in which I usually secure my team's loss.

Tai chi performers.

After the morning events, it was off to lunch, followed by a quick nap before Chinese class.  The evening was filled with the usual 2 hours of English Corner and a student followed us home to regale us with stories about her life growing up in the countryside.  All in all, a pretty typical day.

Chalkboard Tuesday

A Little Conversation

Every Thursday evening, all of us foreign teachers go to English Corner.  On our campus, English Corner is a school club run by some of the sophomore and junior English majors.  Ours is held outside, next to the lotus pond, for two hours every Thursday night.  It's designed to be an opportunity for students/faculty/random citizens in the community to swing by and practice their conversational English.  Sometimes this goes exceedingly well and we have great conversations or even develop new friendships.  Other times, it's difficult to focus on the conversations due to the distraction of whatever is most biting that night, typically a toss up between mosquitos or the cold.  It can also be an insight into what makes the minds of these young scholars tick.

Take, for instance, this conversation I had with a student during English Corner this past week:

Student: So, which one of you dyes their hair...you, or Miss Patty?
Me: Well, neither of us really dye our hair.  We've both added some highlights, which changes the color a little, I guess.  Why do you ask?
S: My roommate and I have been discussing this and we can't agree.
Me: Agree on what?
S: Well, your hair is not the same color!
Me: Um, yes. That's true.
S: So one of you must dye your hair because it's not the same color.
Me (a little confused): Mine is usually a little darker brown, maybe, but Miss Patty's is naturally blonde.
S: But, you know, all of us Chinese have the same color of hair.  And you're both American...so...?

Like I'd ever color over those golden locks!

I had quite the time convincing her that not everyone who shares a nationality shares the same hair color!

Chalkboard Tuesday

I'm not sure why he has antlers.  Or an earring.

Or how it fits into the bigger picture.

Not My Home

Today I received some news that dear friends of mine will have to leave the place where they have spent about 30 years building lives - the lives of their four amazing children, the lives of those around them that they've been able to share hope with and see transformed, the lives that come from a call to leave your home culture in order to give up everything and follow the irresistible pull to someplace overseas.  This sweet couple followed that call without any thoughts of looking back.  Yet, now, a new law is causing them to quickly and unceremoniously leave the place that's been "home" for such a long time.

Having been raised where I was, with parents such as mine, it would have been nearly impossible for me to grow up and be anything shy of a flag-waving, card-carrying, full-fledged patriot, fully aware of the benefits of my American citizenship and upbringing.  I would consider one such benefit to be the relative assurance of the survival, and success even, of my beloved nation and (due to my citizenship) my being welcome there so long as our mutual survival endures.  However, as one who studied and now teaches on the rise and fall of great empires and cultures, I'd be a fool to place all my hopes and assurances in even such a winsome-looking statistic.

Living here, it's easy to be reminded that this home in particular just isn't permanent.  Although some things have certainly become my new normal by now, far too many still feel entirely foreign.  Likely many of them always will.  Between that and the current uprooting my dear friends are experiencing, I'm so grateful for the reminder that none of this is permanent.  My hope and my trust must be in something greater, in Someone more lasting than the ever changeable laws, the nations, or even time itself.  Anything less is just dust in the wind.

Gotta Get Around

Some days I relish living in a culture that is not utterly dependent on individual automobiles, but has a healthy dose of walking and public transportation.  Of course, there are days where I can't help but think, "Holy crabapples! What I wouldn't give for the convenience of just being able to drive where I need to go already.  For crying out loud!"

One such time would be when the car or bus I'm taking from my town to the city stops about halfway there, on the side of a major highway, to exchange passengers with another car or bus.

"Chinese Fire Drills" - they're for real.

Or maybe when the cars/busses are also transporting random goods that you have to awkwardly straddle while holding your own bags and such.

Wha...eggs in a bucket of sand...? I don't even know.  At least it's not a live duck with its head sticking out of a garbage bag.  This time.

Those days are coming fewer and farther in between now that I feel a bit more confident about using the subway when I venture into the city (pretty much every Saturday now).

Normally, on public transport, people here just keep to themselves.  Many take advantage of the down time and grab a quick nap while others seem to be participants in some kind of bizarre anti-staring contest - desperately avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone at all costs.  It's kinda fun to watch.

These past couple of weeks have been a little strange for me, though.  Waiting outside the station last week, some *ahem* not-exactly-registered taxi drivers were trying to earn my business and asked where I was going.  Our conversation went a little like this:

Group of Drivers: Hey! Where ya headed?
Me: I'm just waiting for a friend, thanks.
Group: OH! She speaks Chinese! Did you hear that?! Chinese! You speak Chinese?
Me: Uh, just a little.
Group: That's great! How old are you? (I always have a strange, internal monologue to remind myself that it's culturally appropriate when I get asked this question.)
Me: Oh, um, well, I'm 28.
Group: 28! So, do you have a boyfriend then? (Same internal monologue for this question, too.)
Me: Uh, no.
Group: No boyfriend! Why not?
Me: Oh, uh...too much trouble. Yeah, that's it.  They're too much trouble.

As if that entire conversation wasn't awkward enough, at that point, they started calling random men over and filling them in on my condition, listing off the stats - 28, no boyfriend, speaks Chinese, etc, etc while turning to me and exclaiming, "Isn't he handsome?! Aren't Chinese men just so handsome?"  Thank goodness my student and her mom arrived just then and I was able to make a hasty goodbye.

I had nearly forgotten this little incident until I made it to the same spot this morning and was greeted by a couple familiar faces and the ever enthusiastic "Hello!"s.  Thankfully, any would be diatribes were cut short by a truck pulling up and unloading quite a few of these guys:

Men in uniform - always a showstopper.

I like to think their mission today was just for that very purpose, to spare me further awkward conversations with random people on the street.  Mission accomplished, fellas.  Mission accomplished.

CQ's Best Kept Secret

Since returning to campus last month, the couple next door has been talking about going down to the river for their evening walks.  Their description made it sound like an urban paradise, but even that still didn't convince me to take the next opportunity to run down and check it out.  Bob and Carolyn are everything I hope to one day become - contagiously adventurous, indiscriminately kind, unwaveringly optimistic, and exceedingly generous.

Their generosity often applies to descriptions as well.  Take, for example, the "spaghetti" dinner I tried to make for all the foreign teachers shortly after arriving in our town for the first time last year.  The thing that I remember most about that meal was how embarrassed I was to serve it.  Likely, a worse pot of noodles has never been cooked - before or since!  Yet, in true form, our neighbors were encouraging with claims of how delicious everything was.  Keeping that in mind, I was somewhat skeptical that this river path could be everything I hoped for, but the allure of finding a good place to run finally drew me there a couple of weeks ago.

I was shocked by what I found.  First, there's a new housing development on the walk down to the river that was an ever-so-subtle reminder of home.  Though much larger than the usual Texas apartment community, and still under construction, the warmer colors and mix of stone, brick and wood were a welcome break from the typical concrete and tile.

Pergolas and arches and shutters!

Once I got to the river, I was shocked by what I found.

Where are all the people?!

Perhaps the emptiest road I've seen here.

There are three paths: one right down by the river (where old men usually have their fishing poles set up), one midway up the hillside (the least populated and thereby my path of choice), and one up by the road.

Path directly next to the water.

Decorative roadside walkway.

Not sure what happened here...this one swallowed an axe?

View from the middle path.

Boats along the river.

A sweet father-daughter moment.

And then, just like that, after following the path back and forth a couple of miles, the magic had gone and I had returned to the hustle and bustle of the city.

Chalkboard Tuesday

The wheels on the bus...are a math problem?

My Favorite Things (Teaching Edition)

Ok.  Moving to a country/culture that is easily a 180 degree turn from your original can be quite enlightening, in any number of ways.  One thing that living here has helped bring to mind would be all the favorite things I maybe didn't even know I loved so much.  You know, you never know what you have 'til it's gone, and all that rot.

Well, it has also helped me develop new favorites.  Two such new additions have to do with teaching.  The first would be the quirky ways students express their affection, namely the bizarre pick of gifts. Whether it's a faceless wooden figurine, a golden and personally engraved bookmark of Chairman Mao, or Christmas apples, they seem to know no end of generosity.  Perhaps the strangest yet:

Thanks be to Bob for checking to see if this little fella had been properly gutted and then...um...handling it.

The second would be the journal assignments from my students.  Actually, in all fairness, this is a double-edged sword.  Ever tried to grade 5 entries apiece for 500+ students in a week?  "Oy!" is about all that can sum that up.  However, some of them are so precious, revealing, emotional, or downright sweet that it is altogether worth it.

Of course, I see my fair share of brown-nosers  - "I will always do my best to improve my spoken English!" or "Ms. Lin is a beautiful and responsible teacher."  (That's when I know they're really concerned about their grades!)  But some of them take the ambitious opportunity to teach this waiguoren about their own culture or practices.  And, even more precious, are those who truly open up and allow me a small glimpse into their lives, lives in a culture that typically shies away from expressing emotion.  To be so implicitly trusted pulls at my heart.  Every. Single. Time.