In Their Eyes

Any girl who grew up in the 1990's should easily recognize this game:

I remember eagerly hoping for the most anticipated moment when my older sister(s) would (finally!) allow me to intrude on any given sleepover and be the fourth player in the game.  For me, the youngest of three girls, that was the ultimate acceptance into a world of secrets and giggles I was usually left to experience only in my imagination.  I vividly remember one of the questions that asked which celebrity the player most resembles, thereby introducing the ever-so-popular notion of celebrity dopplegangers to me.  Once, when that question came to me, I remember anxiously waiting to hear who the other girls would compare me to.  My knowledge of pop culture then, much like now, was so...progressive that I did not know any of the people they mentioned.  Considering the internet (ie google image) wasn't really a thing yet, I lost the rare opportunity to learn how others see me.  That opportunity has since been redeemed, for better or worse, on more than one occasion just this past week.

I was recently invited to give a guest lecture at a neighboring university.  The organizer of the event asked me to send in a picture for the posters he wanted to set up around campus, but I was unable to do so in time due to connectivity issues.  "No problem!" I was assured - he'd taken the matter into his own hands and searched the internet for a picture that he believed looked like me.  Apparently this is how he saw me:

Perhaps his search was "hospital staff ID photo"?

Of course, it didn't bother me much that the photo was a little, well...off, considering that the title/topic of my presentation was slightly off as well.  I was slotted to discuss "The American Revolution: Birth of a Nation" even though the introduction was set up as:

Revolution for the South, perhaps.  I daresay no new nation was born.

I was able to clear up the presentation misunderstanding pretty quickly, but interestingly enough, none of the 150 attendees even seemed to notice that I was not the person in the picture.  I am occasionally told that all of us foreigners look alike, after all.

The night after my guest presentation, I ran into a former student of mine and she excitedly told me about a movie she recently watched.  She asked if I'd ever seen "She's the Man."  It's one of my go-to, feel-good movies, so I thought we'd have a great conversation about the quotable lines and whatnot.  She, however, had other points of discussion in mind, like insisting that I resemble Amanda Bynes.  I don't think there could have been any better comedic timing, considering the strange happenings of the day before.  I told her I didn't see it, but thought it was very kind of her to think so.  She went so far as to send me this picture after she got home:

"What do you think? Don't you think she look[s] like you?"

I'm not really sure what was going through either of their minds when they decided these photos suited me, but I am so glad for the reminder that my identity is not wrapped up in how other people see me or my appearance.  Getting a good laugh hasn't been so bad, either.

Well, that escalated quickly.

A Following

I felt like this message was following me (much like the mysterious "she" is always doing with the "tide of fashion") because I found it in a couple of my different classrooms throughout the week.

This one's for you, Grandma

My grandmother has always been one of my favorite people.  I could easily go on about how the best meals I've eaten have been cooked by her, the best clothes I've worn have been made by her, and the best life lessons I've learned have been taught by her (in addition to my amazing parents, of course!).  However, in order to avoid sounding too cliche or trite, I'll try to save publicly expressing my feelings about my amazing grandma for another post - one that will hopefully do more to communicate all the reasons she's so incredible.

But seriously.  Look at her.  She's totally incredible.

One special memory I share with her, though, is how she gets "homesick."  To her homesick is never about a place - it's about people.  For example, she tells the story of her first time moving away from home as a young, teenaged woman and how she felt so homesick for her Mother and Dad.  Later, when her children left for college or career, she was homesick for them although, technically, they were the ones away from home.  So, I knew exactly what she meant the first time I called from China and she said she was homesick for me - I had the same feeling.  Since then, Grandma's affectionately reminded me that when I'm homesick for her, I can picture where she's at, but she has no idea what my place looks like.  I (ashamedly) kept putting off taking pictures of the apartment (after all the changes/improvements that have been made - originals of the apt from last year can be found here) because I feel like there's always still so much more I want to do.

Well, I finally realized that there will always be projects and it's not really fair to keep my poor grandma in the dark because of that.  Especially considering that today is her 92nd birthday.  (Happy Birthday!)  So, this post of me cheesily acting out daily life in pictures is for her - I figure she, of all people, has already seen me at my cheesiest.

Every morning when I wake up, I look at the trees outside my window and try to guess what kind of weather the day will hold.

Our bathroom may be a little small, but it gets the job done!

Of course I need to include a picture of making my bed so that my parents and grandma can all see that their years of hard work paid off.

When I spend a little time reading and reflecting before beginning my day, things just seem to go a little smoother.

Depending on the weather, I might grab a jacket, scarf, or umbrella before heading off to class.

I try to use creative methods to help my students better understand whatever topic is at hand.

After my morning classes, I might grab lunch with some friends or colleagues. 

If I have free time after lunch, I might go for a walk or practice my Chinese.

On Tuesday nights, I cook for the other foreign teachers and whatever friends happen to join us for dinner.

Our table's a little small for everyone to gather around, but we call it cozy and make it happen.

If my evening's free of paperwork or meetings, I might work on a special project, like knitting squares for a blanket.

Before I know it, it's time to give thanks for all the blessings in my life and crawl back into bed.

Do you ever feel homesick for anyone, either because you've moved away or they have?  At the risk of sounding like the blog version of Delilah, leave a comment if there's someone you'd like to share about.

Ant Killers

Ok, so after my marginally depressing post yesterday, I thought it'd be a good idea to reflect on things that keep me sane - a list of ant killers, if you will.  Here goes!

~The milk tea stand just outside the front gate of our campus with its limitless variety of flavor choices
~The awesome friends who run the milk tea stand and not only share their watermelon, but let me test my hand at things like lemon cake
~Looking at a sign in Chinese and realizing I understand it (!)
~The amazing group of people I get to share life with
~Receiving any kind of communication from friends in other places - encouraging notes, ridiculous articles, mundane details of life anywhere else (it's easy to forget when your day-to-day looks so different), phone calls (even in the middle of the night because math is hard and the time difference wasn't factored in)
~Sending and receiving text messages in Chinese - like a boss!
~Funnel cakes
~Setting aside time to reflect and study
~A weekly coffee shop trip
~Students who take the time to ask insightful questions or offer an encouraging word
~Knowing that I'll be able to catch up with those I've been missing in just a couple short months
~Blinglish shirts

And a great, big one*
~Going to meet with the Vice Dean about a couple of cheating students only to find out they've already thrown themselves at his mercy and been dealt with accordingly.

*I couldn't bring myself to call it an "elephant killer" - they're just such noble creatures.  Obviously I am biased against ants.

I Could Use a Little Sunshine

I once heard someone say that it's not the (symbolic) elephants that cause overseas workers to leave the field and return home, but the ants.  An elephant, as massive as it can be, usually seems temporary - it comes, does its thing/gets dealt with, and moves on.  A constant stream of ants, on the other hand?  Not so much.  Quite the persistent little buggers!  On a less symbolic note, I've always considered elephants much cuter than ants anyhow.

This week I've found myself trying to sort out my own ants vs. elephants.  After all, one's better equipped to handle a situation if the nature of it is understood first, no?  True to the analogy, I've come up with quite a few more ants on my list than elephants - things that independently shouldn't be such a big deal, but have acquired a knack for wearing me down nonetheless.

Ants:
~Lack of consistent internet connection
     ~Lack of communication with family/friends/support network in the states
~Finally having a good enough connection, only to hear of tough times for loved ones
     ~Feeling guilty about being so far away while they have hard times
~Dreary, dreary weather (It almost seems wrong having this on my list because of the higher than usual allotment of vitamin D for the area this year, not to mention the ways I came better prepared to counteract the dreariness, but motherofpearl if the sunshine doesn't make a huge difference!)
~Unsolicited advice on everything including what to eat and how to dress for the weather ("It's so changeable!" "Yeah? Well, I'm an adult!")
~Learning not to take the constant stream of cultural differences personally
~Language study (It took me quite a while to (grudgingly) categorize this as an ant instead of an elephant - this language is hard, y'all.)
~ Loud noises - anytime, anywhere (Sometimes this one sounds like elephants...)

Elephants:
~Meeting with the school administration to discuss severe cases of cheating (Wish me luck!)
~Thinking cheating is an elephant and then finding out about truly heartbreaking situations that some students are involved in and feeling completely lost about how to guide them

How do you find yourself reacting when facing your own ants/elephants?  Gaining a better understanding of the problem - what can be changed/what can't be seems to help me, and remembering to count my blessings when the problems feel overwhelming.  I'd love to hear what works (or doesn't!) for y'all.

Best of Both Worlds

My students, even the ones from "tiny" villages in the countryside, can't help but express complete disbelief in the fact that my hometown has a population of roughly 14,000 (if school's in session and everyone else has come to town to visit their grandmas).  When I tell them the nearest city's about 100 km away with a population of less than 200,000, their minds practically explode before my very eyes.  Even the children of farmers cannot imagine so much empty land, much less the kids who grew up in the city of 30 million just up the river.  In their minds, there's absolutely no question that I grew up in the countryside.  Considering Mom wouldn't let us spend our lazy summer days wandering the rugged canyons located just behind the next block over (because of rumored rattlesnake dens and the occasional coyote), I'm inclined to agree.

When I first moved to the DFW area all those years ago, I remember being a little nervous about the increase of traffic and not being able to see each and every star, each and every night.  I couldn't have loved living in a place more, though.  The diversity, the opportunities, the convenience, the liveliness - I felt like I was made for the city.  Never before had I had the option of knocking out my grocery shopping at 3 in the morning if I just couldn't sleep.  After years of loving that location, it came as no surprise to me here - an hour (at least) from any major city - that I thrive in metropolitan areas, even when it's hard.  Last weekend, it was a little hard.

Arianne and I met up with a friend who recently moved to the city before I was scheduled to tutor my lone middle school student.  They decided to catch a movie while I headed off to the subway station.  Almost as soon as we parted ways, my shoe broke.  Of all the places a shoe can break and render one semi-barefoot, this was terribly far from my top choice.  I was in a crazy expensive shopping district (seemingly high end, yet just the week before we saw a parent-accompanied child pick a corner and pee in it).  I guess what I'm saying is, there are a lot of reasons why going barefoot here was just not a great option; however, I didn't think I could afford any of the shoes in the immediate vicinity.

I saw a pharmacy 20 steps away and hobbled over, trying to make the best use of my broken shoe.  I asked for anything they had that could aid the situation and was met with blank stares.  No tape or glue or adhesive of any kind - mostly just cosmetics and creams.  I found some floss, purchased it, and determined to rig the shoe back together somehow.  Success!  Until about 8 steps later.  New shoes moved from being one possible, if less desirable, option to an immediate necessity.  Thankfully, there was an H&M nearby (though "nearby" quickly becomes "a land far, far away" when hobbling through a crowded mall on a broken shoe and gathering bizarre (even moreso than usual!) glances from curious onlookers) and I scored a pair of flip flops at a price I'd never be willing to pay under more reasonable circumstances.

Donning my new shoes, I quickly made my way across the city and found out no trains would be heading back to my town at a convenient time, meaning I'd have to find a car for Arianne and I after meeting up with my student.  The meeting went (much, much) longer than anticipated and poor Ari was stranded at the train station McDonalds for quite some time, waiting for my return.  We found a car, but it was already close to 11 pm and they needed to find a couple other passengers before they were willing to make the drive back to our town.  Nothing beats standing outside an empty bus station late at night with people quizzing you in the local dialect.  We finally made it home sometime around 12:30 am or so.  Somehow, throughout all the random little frustrations, I couldn't help but find myself chuckling in wonder at the realization that I still actually enjoyed being in the city.  Despite whatever situation was faced.  (Disclaimer: It may have helped that Arianne had picked up a pizza to bring home for the next day.)

That being said, I also can't deny that a good part of me is still a country girl at heart.  On those all too rare, clear-skyed nights, my teammates jokingly call me "camp counselor" as I excitedly point out whatever stars peek down through the clouds above and enjoy breathing just a little bit deeper.  I know at times in my life I've passionately advocated for one extreme or the other (city life/country life), but I think I've finally reached a place that I just appreciate both.