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.

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.

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.

You might live in China if...(2nd Edition!)

~you honestly find yourself thinking, "What an enjoyable ride!" because your taxi only has an overacted movie playing on the dash, the latest ballads coming from the radio, and one incessantly ringing cell phone simultaneously vying for your ears' attention.

~on a trip to the nearby(ish) city of 30 million people, with the intent of seeking out western food, you still only see a total of maybe 10 other wai guo ren.

~while on a bus or sharing a cab, the driver excitedly tells every other passenger he picks up/drops off the life story he's already pulled from you.  (She's American! She's a teacher!  She's lived here two years!)

~you find yourself teaching your weekday classes on a weekend to "make up" for the holiday in the coming week.

~finding a seat on the subway and riding it for an hour feels like a mini vacation.

~you feel perfectly safe, as a single woman, walking up to a group of sketchy looking fellas late at night to ask if any of them drive to your city.  In fact, you know this is probably the best way home as well as the safest and most organized after the trains stop running.

~you realize that the long hours of studying Chinese characters have finally paid off because you recognize every single one in a phrase...but you still have no idea what it's actually trying to communicate.

~you no longer think twice when a driver boldly barrels up the wrong side of the street and have utmost confidence that either he or the oncoming truck will avert the seemingly inevitable impact.

~you still curse the stairs of death after an added year of "acclimating" to them.

~sometimes dinner just doesn't taste right because there isn't enough numbing pepper in it.

~deciding between taking advantage of the rare sunshine outside or the rare internet connection inside feels like an overwhelming choice, and almost a moral dilemma.

~your day off is decidedly more busy with students popping over or organizing projects than your regular working schedule.

~you feel like you could live here a million years and still not understand some everyday occurrences. 

In my Daily Life

In my experience, language learners tend to absorb the patterns and pronunciations they find themselves surrounded by - perhaps explaining why my Texas drawl grows noticeably thicker each time I talk to my Grandma on the phone or take a visit to the panhandle.  Living here has proved no different, in some regards.  We all had a good laugh when a student said "As the going says, ..." but now I have to deliberately consider the accurate way to say the phrase Each. And. Every. Time.

Another example lies in the nation just north of my  home country (no, I'm not talking about Oklahoma).  After a student's mispronunciation, Arianne got in the habit of playfully calling the country by the name "Canadia."  Now I can't even begin to count how many times I've been in the middle of a lecture and have had to stop myself mid sentence to ensure proper pronunciation of the word.  Shameful.

However, perhaps my favorite linguistic adjustment is one that belongs primarily to Arianne.  The phrase that most grated on her nerves after moving here was "in my daily life."  She vehemently declared that we do not use such a phrase and adamantly advocated for her students to eliminate it from their vocabulary.  She was able to successfully fight off the urge to utter those words aloud for quite some time, up until they became an inseparable part of, well, her daily life.

So, I thought I'd use this post as a celebration of things that have become a part of my daily life.

Character practice and repetition.  (For those that can read Chinese - please don't judge me!)

Far from our normal daily weather, our campus really is quite lovely in the sunshine.

It's entirely common (and I'd say even expected, judging by those that brought their own stools) to encounter a costumed and choreographed dance routine while on a stroll through town.

The groups even provide their own music and sound system.

Passersby come and go at will to look on whatever may be happening, while you can see that the older generation of men still commonly dress in the style of clothing that was characteristic of New China. 

Food cart outside the train - contains goodies like instant noodles and spicy tofu.

Precious little boy trying to figure out why this aunty looks so different.

On the back of a motorcycle taxi, just cruising up the sidewalk.

Typical train station - everyone going every which way, all at once.

View from my favorite tea stand....wait...those aren't usually there!

Expecting the unexpected -
a man and his bulls just going for a walk outside our university.

Part of the beauty of living in another culture, for me, means not only finding the differences compared to how I grew up, but finding the ones worth appreciating.

My Knight in Shining Armor

A few of us took a trip into the city this weekend and it went pretty well.  So well that the school was kind enough to arrange a van and driver for us (Mr. Li - my favorite!), instead of leaving us to our own resources to find a way there and back.  So well that we were able to enjoy some chips and guacamole (a total rarity in our parts) before meeting some friends visiting from out of town.  And so well that I finally saw  a shuai ge (handsome guy) that I'm always hearing CQ is so full of...and he was literally in shining armor.

Unfortunately, he did seem a bit too stoic for my taste, though.

Perhaps the tallest, beardliest man I've seen here.

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.

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.

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.

Have you married?

Culturally, it's such an innocent question, typically accompanied by fits of giggles and small, shy glances.  Yet, somehow, it's both harder to hear and to answer here.  It always manages to create some sort of overstimulated emotional reaction inside me.  Whether it's barely noticeable in an absolute-smallest-of-twinges-felt-in-the-innermost-part-of-my-gut sort of way or whether I'm caught completely unprepared to the point an instant rush of adrenaline quickens in my veins while I feel awkwardly put on the spot...either way, it's really rather unpleasant.

Culturally, there are only two legitimate answers to this question: a seemingly rather simple "yes" or a just as simple "no" as in "not yet."  In Mandarin, the question is nearly always asked as a quite open-ended but literal "Have you or have you not married?" as opposed to the American English version of "Are you married?" with its (glorious!) implication of current conditions.  According to (my rather limited grasp of) the nature of the language, the proper response in Mandarin should then be either "I have" or "I have not."  Pretty simple, right?  However, I haven't been able to comfortably or legitimately answer with either of those responses in years.  To say "I have" would be met with further questions as to where/who my husband is and to say "I haven't" would simply be a lie - so not my style.  The asker(s) can't possibly be aware of the many complications that riddle the truth as well as my past.

Culturally, it would be wildly inappropriate to burden those only wishing to make a little small talk with the highly personalized details of my story.  They don't need to know about the years of heartache I struggled through, scrambling after a husband who first rejected his faith, his wife and ultimately all other significant commitments.  They don't need to know how much greater the pain was even further increased by perfectly well-meaning individuals who assumed that my own faith must have been lacking, that I simply didn't value the marriage enough myself, or that surely I failed to make a sufficient effort and let it slip idly from my grasp.  They don't need to know.  And that's not what they're asking anyway.

Culturally, it's not about the culture at all.  It's about my own personal journey, my personal struggle through issues I never anticipated would be mine - lost baggage I never meant to claim, yet somehow repeatedly finds it way to me in unanticipated, little reminders like this question.  Most days I feel as though I've come far enough that it just slides right off, but somedays the constant reminder is too much and I want to blame a culture for valuing a life as so much greater if it's legally and matrimonially attached to another, blame whoever might be responsible for leaving me to deal with this kind of silly conundrum, blame myself for not just getting past it altogether already.  Somedays it's really all too much, but sometimes, somehow it becomes a sweet reminder of the infinite measure of grace and peace I've already received, a chance to remember I'm neither who, nor where, I once was and that my hope has indeed been redirected.

You might live in China if...

~The term "toilet paper" no longer exists in your vocabulary.  It has been replaced with "tissue" because you must always carry small packs in your purse and it is not uncommon to see a roll of tissue prominently displayed on a restaurant table in lieu of napkins.

~You find yourself thinking, "We need more tupperware...time to buy yogurt!"  because the small, "Greek" yogurt containers are about the most useful storage containers you've found.

~You go to a restaurant known for its better rice to buy three orders to take home (to eat with the dinner your roommate cooked) only to have the restaurant staff look at you like you have three heads and tell you that they don't have any...while they are serving big bowls of rice to each table.

~Every time you see a non-Chinese person that is not a member of your team (maybe once a month on a trip to the city), you find yourself staring unabashedly as the first thought to pop into your mind is "wai guo ren!" ("foreigner!") , followed closely with a "huh, what are they doing here?!"  All before you remember that they are likely (rightfully) thinking the same thing about you.

~You find yourself cursing the Stairs of Death on a daily basis - whether it's to class, at the supermarket, train station, a local mountain, or just getting from once place in the city to another.  Then after realizing that you have been climbing said Stairs of Death for seven months, you notice you still feel just as winded as when you started.

~You get excited when you see Roman script in public - it doesn't even have to be English.

~You no longer notice the prolonged stares as you go about your daily business in town and are quietly amused at how your Chinese friends react with shock at what a spectacle you are.

~Every time someone sees you coming and declares, "Oo-ah? Na shi wai guo ren!" (Wha..? There's a foreigner!") you confidently respond with "Shi a!" ("There is!") for the sheer purpose of personal entertainment.

~While in language class, you try to put a new spin on the age-old Chinese insult of "pig head" by changing it to "chicken head" only to be met with the gasps of your teacher who quickly declares that she is indeed not an organizer of prostitutes.  However, you still leave the class feeling accomplished having effectively learned the term for pimp.

~You are suddenly watching your step for leaky sewage and then notice that "it's only" a street vendor selling stinky tofu.

~Your spirits are suddenly lifted to extraordinary heights because you see sunshine for the first time in nearly 6 months.

~Every night when preparing for dinner, the question is "What do ya wanna eat tonight - rice or noodles?"

~Shoes that have puffy rabbit heads or shirts with giant, sparkly teddy bears (especially when worn simultaneously) no longer even draw a second glance from you.

~You are writing a blog post and use all the words that don't exactly fit together the way you'd like them to because you can't remember any words you would prefer...the vocabulary of your native language diminishes daily.

Annnd, we're back!

Ok, so no matter that it's been about two months since my last post.  There were certainly a few internet connectivity issues, final exam situations, and maybe a teensy-weensy six week holiday involved.  (I know, right?!)

Anyhow, I'm back to my home base again and desperately trying to get caught up before I start teaching again next Monday.  So, in the meantime, I'll leave you with both the hopes that this term will allow me more time to keep everyone updated and a sneak peek of this happy, little escape: