Last week, the glorious week of Thanksgiving, my students spent the first five minutes of each class (and not just mine) preparing for a singing competition that was to be held on the Friday after Thanksgiving. All day everyday the students were walking around singing their class's songs. As there are 16 different classes, there were also 16 different songs. Each song had a very patriotic appeal to it, that is to say that each sounded especially communist in nature. Upon asking several of the classes the origin of the songs I learned that many of the songs were in fact from the 1940's and 1950's and talked about the strength, might and power of the new Chinese regime. Some of the songs were even soldier marching songs (I immediately imagined a bunch of Chinese soldiers marching to a Chinese version of the MICKEY MOUSE marine march at the end of Full Metal Jacket). As the week continued my fascination and appreciation of the students ability to sing so well increased and I grew excited about watching the singing competition when the time came.
On Friday, after my last class, I moseyed my way towards the front entrance of the school. This just happened to be the location of the singing competition because it is first very beautiful and, second, the only place large enough to seat 1000 students. As the competition was in the front it meant that to get there I had to walk through the front doors of the school, which also happened to be center stage. The MC for the event, one of the teachers, began rattling off in Chinese, but in the midst of his talking I could distinctly make out one word very clearly, Wilson. Upon saying this word, my last name, the students roared. I felt special for a brief moment and then wondered what they wanted. It turned out that my intrusion gave the MC a chance to fill a judging seat that had apparently been open. Keeping my relations with my teachers and classes at a high point, I met this request with a welcoming smile and was quite a good judge.
My criteria for judging was three fold. First was the content of the songs being sung (1-10 scale). As I don't speak a lick of decent Chinese, my basis for judgment relied on whether or not Chairman Mao's name could be clearly heard in the song. Since most of the songs were old soldier marching songs, most of the classes got a 10. Second was a the appearance of the students (1-10 scale). On this I was more harsh. Some of the classes went out of their way to have matching dress that was separate from the normal school uniform, they got a perfect 10. Others got points for their formation and some lost points for students out of school uniform. Third was the sound and collaboration of the song (1-30 scale). Since I am not a good singer myself, I was quite generous on this matter, but to be honest there is nothing better sounding than a group of patriotic students proudly singing the songs of their country.
After 16 very long and incomprehensible songs the judging cards were picked up and the scores were tallied. While the marks were being counted the teachers got together and sang a song to fill the time - equally patriotic in nature. However, the time was not completely filled and the MC got back up and began speaking again. And again, in the middle of his chatter, I heard the word Wilson. I just assumed that he was thanking me for being a judge and spending my afternoon there with the students - I was wrong. No, in perfect Chenglish, he quickly informed me that it was my turn to sing a song. Flushed with overpowering embarrassment I ducked my head and shook my hands to declare my discomfort, but the MC was overly insistent; so much so that he started, and I couldn't believe this, the 'Wilson' chant. All of the students began chanting "Wilson, Wilson, Wilson, Wilson;" it was the sound of fate echoing in my ears.
I stood up, not being able to disappoint my students who clearly wanted me to lose all the face I ever gained at their school, and took the microphone. As I turned around I could see before me a painful sight. Not only were my 1000 students sitting there grinning with anticipations, and not only were all 50 (or so) of my fellow teachers also waiting for me to fall on my face, but by some miracle of Satan the street on the other side of the gate had been filled with random Chinese citizens and construction workers from who knows where. There were easily over 2000 people in front of me and I have never sung to an audience, ever, and that is for a reason; I sing terribly. Standing there, I shuffled through my music library thinking of any song that would sit me down fast. Hindsight tells me that "You are my sunshine" or "Three Little Birds" would have been a good choice... but hindsight failed me that day. No, in the midst of the patriotic appeal the students had ushered onto me I also had a song in mind, the only song I could think of, and the only song which I know all of the words to by heart - The Star Spangled Banner.
It didn't take long to figure out why people clap for the singers of this song as sports games, it is a ridiculously hard song to sing. I knew that ahead of time, but my clouded mind didn't let me understand this fact. As I stood there hitting all of the low notes and dreading the high ones, I could hear my heart beating so loudly that the thud was coming through the microphone and out of the speaker... my own personal metronome. I could see in my mind an image of Francis Scott Key rolling in his grave and shivering with hatred of my voice. But, God bless those students, they clapped for me and made me feel like I did something amazing. I knew the truth, of course, but they were just happy that I did something. Throughout the week several students have greeted me by mimicking my face as I hit the high notes with high notes of their own, and one student walked up to me and said, "Wilson, I think, maybe, your sing is no good," - that student will fail this semester.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I have not forgotten you!!!
Dear Thanksgiving,
On this sweet November, like many November's before you, others are trying to look past the blessing you provide. It seems so common now to think of other holidays as we get closer and closer to your special day that even in the stores the decorations which focus on you are pushed aside to make way for the holiday season that comes after - as if you were already forgotten. Worry not, my friend, I have not forgotten you. I remember the many Thanksgivings before where you filled my belly with delicious foods, both hot and cold, and provided me with many post meal naps. And, lest I forget, I remember the many Dallas Cowboy football games from years before. Some have been sweet, and others, like the year when a freakish snow covered the Texan landscape and Leon Lett fumbled the ball for the loss, were wretched. Nevertheless, I am not looking past your rich givings to prepare for any other holidays that may surround you, for it is your turn and I will not let some other holiday cut in line as if the holiday order was some Chinese grocery line. No, I will defend you.
This past weekend, Finn and I traveled a great distance, and over many landsc
apes, to seek out the bird of all holiday birds. Our final destination was Wuhan, where we were able to purchase a turkey from Metro. Not just any turkey, mind you, but THE turkey that will grace the center of the family table. Just like T.O. will do on this Thanksgiving, I received the turkey with open arms and brought it back all the way to Shiyan for the touchdown. At present, the turkey is resting in our good friend Barry's freezer, awaiting its oily bath and the many "ooh's" and "ahh's" of its preciously cooked bounty.
This thanksgiving, like many before, I have much to be thankful for. First of which is my thanks for the family that I will be spending this holiday with. Be it Halloween, Thanksgiving, or Christmas (note the order), my family both here in China and back home will always be in my heart and I will be grateful for my time spent with each of them. This is the second year that I will be unable to spend my Thanksgiving with my family back home, I am mindful of what they mean to me and am gratefully blessed to know they each support me in what I am doing here in China and go out of their way to encourage me. I miss them dearly, but like all sacrifices made in the name of the kingdom, He has a way of giving back and has done so with my family here in Shiyan. John, with is amazing cooking ability and encouraging thoughts on matters of the kingdom, honors me with his company and wisdom... and food. And with every great man is their incredible woman, and I am equally thankful for John's wonderful wife Megan, whose laughter and smile brighten my day upon every meeting and whose encouragement lifts up the other women of Shiyan. I am thankful for Luke and Kat, a couple whose humor is much like mine and whose giving nature resides not in the worry of money but in the concerns of their heart. I am thankful, also, for Finn, who has been with me to laugh and joke every step of the way, who as held me up in tough times, has encouraged me when it was needed, whose heart is not limited by the restraints of time but by the physical limitations of exhaustion. I am thankful for Brad, who constantly covers this family and city in pr/yers; it is no coincidence to me that with a warrior like Brad that it is so easy to see the work He is doing in Shiyan. Across town I am thankful for my friends Barry and James, who lift up my spirit upon every meeting and whose heart for the effort here works overtime. Each day is the best day of their lives and they show it by their smiles, their encouragement, and the influence in our family here. I am thankful for Angelyn, whose giving heart never stops, whose love for the women family members is endless, who challenges me in my walk upon every meeting and whose sarcasm always fills me with happiness. Last, and certainly not least, I am thankful for Jessica. She has been so much to me in they way getting me here to China, in who I am, and in who I want to become.
Equally, I am so thankful for the Chinese here in the city who have also gone out of their way to make me feel at home. For the Chinese family members, I am encouraged so much with the distance they cover daily in their walk(s) with Him and the bravery they display in their development. Also, I am thankful for my teacher friends here at my school, who continually want to spend time with me, teach me to speak Chinese, treat me to dinners, play games with me, and just offer their limited free time to me when they could be spending it elsewhere.
Thanksgiving, I am thankful for you because you provide for a time to sit back and give thought to all the blessings I have received, and you create in me an appreciation for the people that surround me and the people who have given so much of themselves to make me the person I am today.
Sincerely,
Trent
On this sweet November, like many November's before you, others are trying to look past the blessing you provide. It seems so common now to think of other holidays as we get closer and closer to your special day that even in the stores the decorations which focus on you are pushed aside to make way for the holiday season that comes after - as if you were already forgotten. Worry not, my friend, I have not forgotten you. I remember the many Thanksgivings before where you filled my belly with delicious foods, both hot and cold, and provided me with many post meal naps. And, lest I forget, I remember the many Dallas Cowboy football games from years before. Some have been sweet, and others, like the year when a freakish snow covered the Texan landscape and Leon Lett fumbled the ball for the loss, were wretched. Nevertheless, I am not looking past your rich givings to prepare for any other holidays that may surround you, for it is your turn and I will not let some other holiday cut in line as if the holiday order was some Chinese grocery line. No, I will defend you.
This past weekend, Finn and I traveled a great distance, and over many landsc
apes, to seek out the bird of all holiday birds. Our final destination was Wuhan, where we were able to purchase a turkey from Metro. Not just any turkey, mind you, but THE turkey that will grace the center of the family table. Just like T.O. will do on this Thanksgiving, I received the turkey with open arms and brought it back all the way to Shiyan for the touchdown. At present, the turkey is resting in our good friend Barry's freezer, awaiting its oily bath and the many "ooh's" and "ahh's" of its preciously cooked bounty.This thanksgiving, like many before, I have much to be thankful for. First of which is my thanks for the family that I will be spending this holiday with. Be it Halloween, Thanksgiving, or Christmas (note the order), my family both here in China and back home will always be in my heart and I will be grateful for my time spent with each of them. This is the second year that I will be unable to spend my Thanksgiving with my family back home, I am mindful of what they mean to me and am gratefully blessed to know they each support me in what I am doing here in China and go out of their way to encourage me. I miss them dearly, but like all sacrifices made in the name of the kingdom, He has a way of giving back and has done so with my family here in Shiyan. John, with is amazing cooking ability and encouraging thoughts on matters of the kingdom, honors me with his company and wisdom... and food. And with every great man is their incredible woman, and I am equally thankful for John's wonderful wife Megan, whose laughter and smile brighten my day upon every meeting and whose encouragement lifts up the other women of Shiyan. I am thankful for Luke and Kat, a couple whose humor is much like mine and whose giving nature resides not in the worry of money but in the concerns of their heart. I am thankful, also, for Finn, who has been with me to laugh and joke every step of the way, who as held me up in tough times, has encouraged me when it was needed, whose heart is not limited by the restraints of time but by the physical limitations of exhaustion. I am thankful for Brad, who constantly covers this family and city in pr/yers; it is no coincidence to me that with a warrior like Brad that it is so easy to see the work He is doing in Shiyan. Across town I am thankful for my friends Barry and James, who lift up my spirit upon every meeting and whose heart for the effort here works overtime. Each day is the best day of their lives and they show it by their smiles, their encouragement, and the influence in our family here. I am thankful for Angelyn, whose giving heart never stops, whose love for the women family members is endless, who challenges me in my walk upon every meeting and whose sarcasm always fills me with happiness. Last, and certainly not least, I am thankful for Jessica. She has been so much to me in they way getting me here to China, in who I am, and in who I want to become.
Equally, I am so thankful for the Chinese here in the city who have also gone out of their way to make me feel at home. For the Chinese family members, I am encouraged so much with the distance they cover daily in their walk(s) with Him and the bravery they display in their development. Also, I am thankful for my teacher friends here at my school, who continually want to spend time with me, teach me to speak Chinese, treat me to dinners, play games with me, and just offer their limited free time to me when they could be spending it elsewhere.
Thanksgiving, I am thankful for you because you provide for a time to sit back and give thought to all the blessings I have received, and you create in me an appreciation for the people that surround me and the people who have given so much of themselves to make me the person I am today.
Sincerely,
Trent
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Kung Fu Petrol Station
First let me begin by apologizing for not writing in two weeks. I know, I know, I am terrible at keeping you posted. I cannot promise that it will not happen again, but I can promise that China is awesome and the work here is fantastic. But this story is less about the work and more about how you should not take the girlfriend of a Chinese man who owns a minivan
Two weeks ago, in city far far away (from the US), Finn and I was asked to partake in a commercial. Being a star in Chinese commercials is a common request for foreign English teachers because in Shiyan there just isn't a lot of diversity to pull actors from. The commercial was to be for a a petrol company called.... well, it was written in Chinese so I can't really elaborate on the name. What I can elaborate on, however, is the experience.
The petrol company politely went out of their way to pick up Finn and I to transport us to the location, a gas station, where we would borrow a car and drive up and ask for the station agent to fill up the car with gas. At the station we were surrounded by more people than there needed to be to make sure all was well. A lot of suit wearing 'higher ups' were around and it was pleasant to get to know everyone there. So, as time drew near to begin shooting the commercial Finn and I were directed to head towards the car which was placed over by the entrance of the station, next to the street. While we were walking and preparing our little acting hearts for film greatness we suddenly heard the ear piercing screech of the breaks of minivan coming to a drastic halt not 3 meters in front of us. The sudden stop was only magnified, however, by the couple who was walking in front of the minivan and jumped out of the way just in time to not get run over.
Thus introduces our three new characters: Jackie Van (the driver of the minivan), Jogger the Boyfriend, and Nancy the Neck (the girl).
Jogger and Nancy were each wearing matching sports uniforms, red if I remember, called couple outfits. These are outfits that couples wear in China that say 'boy' and 'girl' on the respective wearer (yes, sometimes it is ambiguous), so they were quite obvious to the eye as they walked in front of this van. However, the couple was not walking in a place where the should have needed to jump out of the way with such life saving agility. Rather, Jackie Van went out of his way from the road and was aiming to run over the couple.
After the grinding halt, Jackie Van emerged from his van and, with the door hanging open because he was too mad to see it closed, began what can only be described as the most intense kung-fu stare down to ever occur in real life (as opposed to the movies). It reminded me of the time in The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly at the end where the camera just switches between the three actors eyes. Jackie Van and the Jogger the Boyfriend both had eyes like Angel Eyes and Blondie with squinted stares that could pierce the soul. Finn and I looked like Chuco, with eyes wide open and dumbfounded at what was happening. Suddenly, Jackie Van breaks his stare to begin the most random display of back water, redneck, un-choreographed kung-fu on Jogger the Boyfriend.
Jogger, taking the highroad, took a defensive posture and made no real effort to respond to Jackie Van's aggressive assault. Trying to get away, Jogger turned to get around the van and away from Jackie only to be greeted by a flying drop kick from Jackie Van. That's right readers, I said that I saw an actually flying drop kick used in real life...in China. Jogger went down and Nancy began yelling and trying to get between Jackie and Jogger. She partially succeeded and was able to get Jackie back into the van. Once Jackie was inside the van, Nancy moved towards Jogger to help him up and away from the scene.
HOWEVER!!!!!!! The sings of alleged closure was negated by the screeching of the van tires and the rally car maneuvering of Jackie Van, who whipped the van around in a donut fashion and hit Nancy and Jogger, knocking them both down. Everyone was shocked and stood still. After all, its not everyday someone sees a flying drop kick used in real life. And it certainly is not common to see someone get hit by a minivan. Jackie Van jumped back out and resumed his assault, but this time on Nancy, grabbing her by the neck and shouting in loud Chinese (as opposed to the normal speaking voice of the Chinese which is already louder than normal western conversational speaking). Nevertheless, it was the ultra volume of his voice that alerted us that this was not going to end soon. Jackie Van dropped the girl and then turned around to grab a rock the size of a woman's shoe box that was laying in a rubble pile near the entrance. After picking his weapon he whipped his head around and gave Jogger a look of intent. Everything went silent and then he began progressing towards Jogger.
At this point I had grown tired of Jackie's antics, and already angered by the fact that he was harassing the girl and none of the commercial people were doing anything I, stupidly, began advancing with intent of my own. What came over me I will never know. As the story goes, or is told to me from a second view point, I was holding an umbrella through it all and purposefully threw it down before I began advancing towards Jackie Van. What was I going to do to Jackie Van, who was holding a rock and who had already displayed the ability to successfully complete a flying drop kick, with no weapon of my own? The answer is that I don't know. I just started moving. I didn't come to China to get into brawls, but I also didn't come to China to watch people get pummeled by rocks. Well, when I began my advance so did the rest of the crowd of commercial hosts. I would like the think that they were equally distraught by the display of violence, but I sometimes wonder if they were just worried that their foreigner was about to pummeled himself.
Power in numbers prevailed as always and the fight was over. Nancy forced Jackie back into the van and, getting inside with him, was slapped and taken away in the van. Jogger the Boyfriend began chasing the van, but was seen later jogging back towards the direction of the gas station without Nancy. The trio was never seen again and Finn and I have not been able to forget this wild China experience.
Two weeks ago, in city far far away (from the US), Finn and I was asked to partake in a commercial. Being a star in Chinese commercials is a common request for foreign English teachers because in Shiyan there just isn't a lot of diversity to pull actors from. The commercial was to be for a a petrol company called.... well, it was written in Chinese so I can't really elaborate on the name. What I can elaborate on, however, is the experience.
The petrol company politely went out of their way to pick up Finn and I to transport us to the location, a gas station, where we would borrow a car and drive up and ask for the station agent to fill up the car with gas. At the station we were surrounded by more people than there needed to be to make sure all was well. A lot of suit wearing 'higher ups' were around and it was pleasant to get to know everyone there. So, as time drew near to begin shooting the commercial Finn and I were directed to head towards the car which was placed over by the entrance of the station, next to the street. While we were walking and preparing our little acting hearts for film greatness we suddenly heard the ear piercing screech of the breaks of minivan coming to a drastic halt not 3 meters in front of us. The sudden stop was only magnified, however, by the couple who was walking in front of the minivan and jumped out of the way just in time to not get run over.
Thus introduces our three new characters: Jackie Van (the driver of the minivan), Jogger the Boyfriend, and Nancy the Neck (the girl).
Jogger and Nancy were each wearing matching sports uniforms, red if I remember, called couple outfits. These are outfits that couples wear in China that say 'boy' and 'girl' on the respective wearer (yes, sometimes it is ambiguous), so they were quite obvious to the eye as they walked in front of this van. However, the couple was not walking in a place where the should have needed to jump out of the way with such life saving agility. Rather, Jackie Van went out of his way from the road and was aiming to run over the couple.
After the grinding halt, Jackie Van emerged from his van and, with the door hanging open because he was too mad to see it closed, began what can only be described as the most intense kung-fu stare down to ever occur in real life (as opposed to the movies). It reminded me of the time in The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly at the end where the camera just switches between the three actors eyes. Jackie Van and the Jogger the Boyfriend both had eyes like Angel Eyes and Blondie with squinted stares that could pierce the soul. Finn and I looked like Chuco, with eyes wide open and dumbfounded at what was happening. Suddenly, Jackie Van breaks his stare to begin the most random display of back water, redneck, un-choreographed kung-fu on Jogger the Boyfriend.
Jogger, taking the highroad, took a defensive posture and made no real effort to respond to Jackie Van's aggressive assault. Trying to get away, Jogger turned to get around the van and away from Jackie only to be greeted by a flying drop kick from Jackie Van. That's right readers, I said that I saw an actually flying drop kick used in real life...in China. Jogger went down and Nancy began yelling and trying to get between Jackie and Jogger. She partially succeeded and was able to get Jackie back into the van. Once Jackie was inside the van, Nancy moved towards Jogger to help him up and away from the scene.
HOWEVER!!!!!!! The sings of alleged closure was negated by the screeching of the van tires and the rally car maneuvering of Jackie Van, who whipped the van around in a donut fashion and hit Nancy and Jogger, knocking them both down. Everyone was shocked and stood still. After all, its not everyday someone sees a flying drop kick used in real life. And it certainly is not common to see someone get hit by a minivan. Jackie Van jumped back out and resumed his assault, but this time on Nancy, grabbing her by the neck and shouting in loud Chinese (as opposed to the normal speaking voice of the Chinese which is already louder than normal western conversational speaking). Nevertheless, it was the ultra volume of his voice that alerted us that this was not going to end soon. Jackie Van dropped the girl and then turned around to grab a rock the size of a woman's shoe box that was laying in a rubble pile near the entrance. After picking his weapon he whipped his head around and gave Jogger a look of intent. Everything went silent and then he began progressing towards Jogger.
At this point I had grown tired of Jackie's antics, and already angered by the fact that he was harassing the girl and none of the commercial people were doing anything I, stupidly, began advancing with intent of my own. What came over me I will never know. As the story goes, or is told to me from a second view point, I was holding an umbrella through it all and purposefully threw it down before I began advancing towards Jackie Van. What was I going to do to Jackie Van, who was holding a rock and who had already displayed the ability to successfully complete a flying drop kick, with no weapon of my own? The answer is that I don't know. I just started moving. I didn't come to China to get into brawls, but I also didn't come to China to watch people get pummeled by rocks. Well, when I began my advance so did the rest of the crowd of commercial hosts. I would like the think that they were equally distraught by the display of violence, but I sometimes wonder if they were just worried that their foreigner was about to pummeled himself.
Power in numbers prevailed as always and the fight was over. Nancy forced Jackie back into the van and, getting inside with him, was slapped and taken away in the van. Jogger the Boyfriend began chasing the van, but was seen later jogging back towards the direction of the gas station without Nancy. The trio was never seen again and Finn and I have not been able to forget this wild China experience.
Monday, October 6, 2008
You might be in China...
... if the McDonald's arches are setting atop a green tiled pagoda.
...if four guys are trying to put an eight foot sofa through the door of a bus.
... if after you buy a cell phone in the China Mobile store you can't walk out through the same doorway because a little girl is peeing in the doorway.
...if four guys are trying to put an eight foot sofa through the door of a bus.
... if after you buy a cell phone in the China Mobile store you can't walk out through the same doorway because a little girl is peeing in the doorway.
Qingdao
The sleeper bus was unlike anything I have ever experienced and I thought we would die numerous times. The punch line to the trip was that there is no such thing as a sleeper bus because the amount of times the bus honks its horn at people he tries to pass, who then cut off the bus causing him to slam on the brakes and rock the bus forward with a screeching halt, is... well, I lost was I was trying to say but I love China. 13 hours later we arrived in Qingdao.
Qingdao meant no plans, and that was basically how I interpreted it the entire time I was there. Beijing was packed with so many big things and every effort to try to everything we could. Qingdao, however, was much more relaxed. The city of Qingdao is on the coast and was host to sailing sports of the 2008 Olympics. Also, the city itself was once a port to Germany and the architecture throughout the town resembles its Bavarian influence.
On the first day Jessica and I got separated from the group and spent our time on one of the beaches and walking through the street vendors. Eventually we met up with the rest of the group, to which we added another people. We found a place to eat and made our way to the Lennon Bar, a bar built in tribute to the Beatles. To those whoever find their way to Qingdao, this was the best find by far. The atmosphere was great and far enough out of the way that it is basically a secret. There was a live band playing a bunch of classic rock and roll covers, some of which were Beatles music. The Singer/bassist and guitarist were middle aged Philippino guys and the drummer was from China. It didn’t matter, though; it was the best live band I have ever heard. The evening ended with Jessica and me trying to find a dancing bar. China, in true form, made the effort an experience worth remembering. The first two clubs were not actually dance bars, which was actually confusing since the music was all techno and the rave lights were flooding the places with seizure inducing intensity. The third place looked promising at first. Aptly named Club Z, which caught our attention and made us think, ‘hmm, that must be a club,’ the place was an accident waiting to happen. Our approach should have told us everything. Despite the lights being on, there was no music coming from the place and doors were closed. So, not willing to let the night rest without a dance I opened the door to investigate to find that, in summation, Club Z was in fact a hen house – we left. Fourth and finally was ‘The Feeling Club.’ This club got its name from its literal meaning, we got our dance, got groped by more Chinese people than I ever could have imagined, and my phone was stolen from my back pocket. All in all, a successful night on the town in old Qingdao.
Day two in Qingdao was Jess, Finn and I relaxing by the Olympic village, meeting the Mickey Mouse English Speaking School of Hubei Province, eating at Pizza Hut, and drinking some Starbucks. Completely enthralled with the Lenin Bar, we finished the night with the whole group listening to the same band as the night before. The next day, and last full day, the whole crew made our way to some island just outside of Qingdao where we found an amazing beach. We spent the day there swimming in the Yellow Sea and sleeping in the sunlight. It was incredible and relaxing.
The trip ended with a 22 hour train ride home, a bag full of smelly clothes and gifts, and 11 tired foreign English teachers.
Beijing
Our trip to Beijing started out like any trip taken so far that is in China, with much haste to arrive and nothing to do for a long time; the old ‘hurry up and wait.’ The Friday that we left I had so much to do before I could actually get on the train that it was a miracle that I even went to Beijing. Teaching class aside, I had to go to the police station to pick up my residence permit, making a citizen (of sorts) in China, as well as my passport. Equally, I did not have my train ticket as it was bought and entrusted to my good friends. Finally, after as successful pickup of the ol’ passport, my last class was supposed to end at 4pm, and the train station that I would have to go to for the 5pm departure was clear across town, easily a 30-40 minute bus ride with no delays... but I live in China, ergo delays. Needless to say, I made it to the train station in about 15 minutes due to the great help of my Chinese friend Mr. Liao and the train left 30 minutes after it was scheduled and there was nothing to worry about all along.
The train ride was about 20 hours long so we had booked sleeper cars hoping to pass the time. In that we were successful. We arrived in Beijing at the exact time we expected and had no trouble finding our hostel. Beijing was full of adventure and excitement. People were everywhere, as you would expect from such a large city. Strangely, however, the traffic was very quiet and it almost seemed as though there was no traffic... unless you tried to cross the road.
Upon arrival and checking in we split into two groups, thus began the great Papa John’s Pizza Conspiracy of 2008. Three of us volunteered to go to the bus station in order to procure bus tickets to Qingdao later in the week. Let me stress that had we not been able to procure bus tickets to Qingdao we would have no guaranteed way of meeting our friends and equally no guaranteed way of making it back to our home. So Angelyn, Megan and I set off on our daunting adventure with the plan to get everyone’s bus tickets and to meet up later at Tiananmen for rendezvous and dinner. On our quest, in which we were lost, hungry, stranded, tired, hungry, taxied, shoved, chinesed, bussed, and, oh yes, very hungry, we eventually arrived at the station and were told to return the next day at 6am. The rumor was that no tickets were to be sold for this particular bus until that day. So, sticking to the plan like any other good traveling friend 
would do, the three of us embark to Tiananmen to rendezvous with the others to find that they are not in fact at Tiananmen, they are shopping at the Silk Market and want us, who have been ravaged by exhaustion in our kind hearted attempt to get our Qingdao tickets, to continue traveling to meet them at the Silk Market. Later, it was revealed to us three kind hearted, and weary, travelers that the other three had taken it upon themselves to eat some food and keep it a secret; and not just any food, but western food. AND, not just any Western food, Papa John’s Pizza... to which there was no sympathy from them. The shame on their names and family will live on eternally, but we, we forgave them knowing that anyone can fall into temptation, despite the full understanding that the three of us who went to the bus station (without food) would have overcome the temptation and waited for our hardworking friends had the roles been reversed.
However, the Silk Market was actually a blessing in disguise and I got a lot of gift shopping done. Thanks to the help of Jessica I was able to cover most of my gift shopping in one night, though it was quite expensive to do so. Silk Market, for those who don’t know, is an amazing place were Westerner’s, and others I am sure, go to buy clothing, jewelry, leisure items, ornaments, etc. that may or may not be real and are bargained for like a dad helping his son buy his first car.
The next morning, our first full day in Beijing, we woke and went to get those bus tickets to Qingdao and were successful. As it was early we headed over to the temple of heaven, a Buddhist temple with fantastic, though repetitive, architecture and beautiful gardens. Chinese people flood in the park for morning exercises and rituals and we American’s flood in to sit and watch. The experience was quite amazing to us since we have come to China in search of tearing down some of the walls that built this temple; not literally of course. Taking the chance, we foreigners found a secluded corner of the temple and gave had some fellowship of our own. Though our ideas of heaven were different than that of those who built the temple I couldn’t help but feel a sense of welcome in our worship. I could only think of two things, first, that the Kingdom of Heaven was near, and second was a though given by C. S. Lewis about how many different people worship many powers. I do not wish to elaborate in too many details, but the fine point he made at the end of his evaluation was that the name was not as important as the intent, and by intent I mean the separation between good and evil. In other words, to love one another and to know that for those who do good can only be doing good in the name of the father, of whom no evil can be done in his name. There is a lot of doctrinal complication, but it was a consoling thought compared to the other idea that all the prayers elicited in the Temple of Heaven were for nothing.
The rest of the day was spent trying to get to the Great Wall. Our goal was to camp on the wall overnight and, well, WE DID IT AND IT WAS AWESOME!!!!! Getting to the top was some tough work, but we all managed to make it and making it to the top engaged a sense of accomplishment in all of us (if you are thinking to yourself that a lot of people do this and it is nothing special, please remember that we were carrying camping gea
r and we did not, I repeat, DID NOT take the lift that EVERYONE else was taking. No, the six of us in our group were absolute legends in are ascent and I am pretty sure all of us were singing ‘Eye of the Tiger’ in our souls as we rested at the top.
Once rested we began our two hour hike to make it to the end of the wall and find a camping ground (to avoid the authorities as camping on the Great Wall is not the most legal of practices). We made it and it was great. The mountain was cold at night and the sleeping bags that Finn and I got before we came were easily the worst creations of man and I actually only got about an hour of sleep the entire night. The rest of the night I was shivering so hard that I chipped my teeth (not really, but I was pretty cold). I would keep going about how awesome the Great Wall was, but I have to drop the cliché, “you had to be there.” The next morning, after everyone who was able to sleep woke up (to the sound of Finn and me singing at four in the morning to keep ourselves warm) we got camp stowed away, goofed off for a while we ate breakfast, watched the sun rise through the Beijin
g fog/smog, and started heading back to where we would descend. I use descend as a strategic word, because the way we went down the Great Wall was sled. That’s right, they had a toboggan that took people from the top to bottom in about 4 minutes or less. Funny enough, the sled ride down cost more than to walk up the stairs to get to the wall, but it was work the money for the excitement and experience.
Once we made it back to the city of Beijing (as the Great Wall is outside of town a ways) we all unloaded at the host
el and took the greatest post-camping showers ever. Several of us used the rest of the day to go and visit the Summer Palace while two in our group slept a bit back at the hostel. The Summer Palace was great, but I think I was still on a high after the Great Wall and tired from lack of sleep so I wasn’t overly ecstatic about the Palace. Nevertheless, the gardens and buildings were beautiful and I don’t regret going.
After the Summer Palace we got back together and met with some friends who recently moved to Beijing. The rest of the group knew them couple we met better than I did (in fact I had never met them), but I was consoled to the idea that we were meeting at a Tex-Mex restaurant. I had a burrito, it was heaven. We spent the rest of the night wandering aimlessly around trying to find the Olympic Stadium. Never finding it, we returned to the hostel as very sleepy travelers and there are rumors that I intentionally poked a Chinese man in the belly as a greeting gesture. The rumors are true.
The day of the bus trip to Qingdao arrived the next morning, but the trip was not until early afternoon and made the morning accessible to leisure. John and Megan tried to find the Olympic stadium again, Finn and Angelyn went to a park near the Forbidden City, and Jessica and I went to Starbucks and spent the rest of the morning walking around Tiananmen Square. We tried to go to the place where they store Mao’s body, but it was closed for cleaning. We just assumed the forMAOldehyde was bad (insert dad dance here).
Saturday, September 20, 2008
In search of simplicty
In search of simplicity I wondered around the city on my own today. I bought some food from a street vendor everyone calls the “Crunchy Taco Man” and a Coca Cola from across the street. The food the CTM makes is perhaps the best that I have had since my stay in China, and if not the best then at least on par with other great foods here. Whatever it is that he makes has the feel of a burrito with sun chips in the middle surrounded by some type of bean sauce and bit of cilantro with a hint of spice; maybe I like it so much because of its resemblance to the Tex-Mex I miss so much.
Taking my food and drink to the Peoples Square I found an empty bench and had my lunch. The People’s Square is fascinating. Floating through the air in the distance is a large helium filled Mickey Mouse Balloon drifting in the same wind that is guiding the Chinese flag that sits in the foreground – a perfect image of how the West has found its way into China. Gallantly streaming, the Chinese flag waves proudly in the center of the People’s Park as suitable reminder of the hand that feeds and provides for such a luxury as a town square.
Everyone stares at me. Is it so strange to see a white man in China? Perhaps foreigners who visit Beijing or Hong Kong do not have the same experience as this, but to be stared at for ones differences has the effect of placing an air of reflection on ones history. However, it is not hate that drives this unstoppable reaction but an apparent uncontrollable curiosity that is evident by those who stop and say ‘hullo’ in their glorious Chinese accents.
Today’s weather warrants the ability for people to come out this afternoon and fly kites in the Square. I counted seven in the air today. One kite flew so high that it must have been nearly a mile out from its operator. While flying kites is a bit of childish thing to do in the US, here it is revered by the elderly. Of all the people flying kites the youngest looked to be no less than 60 and the proud owner of a wellspring of wrinkles from years of smoking. These old men fly these kites with such diligence, waiting for the gust of wind to come to them rather than chasing after the wind as a child might do. The imagery I could witness from their ability to catch the same wind by standing still, as opposed to putting physical energy into lifting the kite, was overwhelming – such simplicity in their action and such reward for their patience.
Two kids ran across the Square chasing after a battery-powered car. The car was much faster than the boys and as one dove to catch the car he missed and skinned his knee. His friend, or maybe brother, continued in pursuit, leaving his brother behind, but equally managed to not catch the car. Eventually the car found its way to into an encounter with a barrier wall of the park and changes direction in favor of the boys who were chasing it. This time around both kids dove for the car and, as though I were watching a “Three Stooges” re-run, both kids missed and bumped into each other. Everyone in the park who was watching chuckled a little, and by the overwhelming sound of laughter resonating through the Square I could tell that the boys had acquired a respectable crowd of spectators. Finally the boys managed to catch the car, and like all good boys released it again to resume their pursuit.
Everyone else was sitting and watching or walking around and eating. Since it was lunchtime there was an equal amount of eating by those who were sitting and by those who were walking. From work to home, from home to work again, from school to home, from home to lunch, from lunch to school again, or just shopping, everyone has the same agenda – coming and going. All people come and go. What I began to notice was this, that these people are no more or less the same be they Chinese, Arab, or American. They are, everyone of them, human; happy and sad, strong and frail, excited and tired, emotional and flat, light and heavy, life breathing, selfishly oriented, family established, food digesting humans... and they are all, everyone of them, beautiful. Communist, Republican, Democrat... none of this matters on this day; just simplicity, and the ability to appreciate life for what it is – short.
Taking my food and drink to the Peoples Square I found an empty bench and had my lunch. The People’s Square is fascinating. Floating through the air in the distance is a large helium filled Mickey Mouse Balloon drifting in the same wind that is guiding the Chinese flag that sits in the foreground – a perfect image of how the West has found its way into China. Gallantly streaming, the Chinese flag waves proudly in the center of the People’s Park as suitable reminder of the hand that feeds and provides for such a luxury as a town square.
Everyone stares at me. Is it so strange to see a white man in China? Perhaps foreigners who visit Beijing or Hong Kong do not have the same experience as this, but to be stared at for ones differences has the effect of placing an air of reflection on ones history. However, it is not hate that drives this unstoppable reaction but an apparent uncontrollable curiosity that is evident by those who stop and say ‘hullo’ in their glorious Chinese accents.
Today’s weather warrants the ability for people to come out this afternoon and fly kites in the Square. I counted seven in the air today. One kite flew so high that it must have been nearly a mile out from its operator. While flying kites is a bit of childish thing to do in the US, here it is revered by the elderly. Of all the people flying kites the youngest looked to be no less than 60 and the proud owner of a wellspring of wrinkles from years of smoking. These old men fly these kites with such diligence, waiting for the gust of wind to come to them rather than chasing after the wind as a child might do. The imagery I could witness from their ability to catch the same wind by standing still, as opposed to putting physical energy into lifting the kite, was overwhelming – such simplicity in their action and such reward for their patience.
Two kids ran across the Square chasing after a battery-powered car. The car was much faster than the boys and as one dove to catch the car he missed and skinned his knee. His friend, or maybe brother, continued in pursuit, leaving his brother behind, but equally managed to not catch the car. Eventually the car found its way to into an encounter with a barrier wall of the park and changes direction in favor of the boys who were chasing it. This time around both kids dove for the car and, as though I were watching a “Three Stooges” re-run, both kids missed and bumped into each other. Everyone in the park who was watching chuckled a little, and by the overwhelming sound of laughter resonating through the Square I could tell that the boys had acquired a respectable crowd of spectators. Finally the boys managed to catch the car, and like all good boys released it again to resume their pursuit.
Everyone else was sitting and watching or walking around and eating. Since it was lunchtime there was an equal amount of eating by those who were sitting and by those who were walking. From work to home, from home to work again, from school to home, from home to lunch, from lunch to school again, or just shopping, everyone has the same agenda – coming and going. All people come and go. What I began to notice was this, that these people are no more or less the same be they Chinese, Arab, or American. They are, everyone of them, human; happy and sad, strong and frail, excited and tired, emotional and flat, light and heavy, life breathing, selfishly oriented, family established, food digesting humans... and they are all, everyone of them, beautiful. Communist, Republican, Democrat... none of this matters on this day; just simplicity, and the ability to appreciate life for what it is – short.
I am the greatest man that ever lived... in China
China has provided me with many new opportunities such as eating some of the best food ever, speaking to people in a language that in no way resembles communication, befriending some of the nicest people in the world, and, of course, playing Rock Band.
Several of us foreign guys have established our own little Chinese 'night cap' and play the game Rock Band at least 3 nights out of the week. One fine evening, after a delightful meal, several of us make our way to the stage and begin rocking, and one of the songs we rock out too was by the band Weezer titled "I'm the greatest man that ever lived." Not to disappoint any of my readers who have complete faith in my rocking abilities, but the song was new too me and I sucked at life when it came time to play the song. Only He knows what might have happened if i was singing... maybe the earth would have collapsed with my suckiness. Nevertheless, I became determined to learn the song so that when I returned I would not only have improved, but would have improved with such awesomeness that I would be considered on par with the greats of Rock!
So, at lunch the next day, as I sat in my flat, I jumped over to youtube and listened to the song a couple of times in an effort to learn the song. Being alone in my house, I.... may.... have become overly bold and sang the song as though I were alone in my car... which means I was belting the song with great intensity in my flat. For those of you who have never heard the song there is a part where the singer, out of no where, hits the highest note ever sung by a man and sings "oooooooh baby, I've been told that I'm going crazy," and he holds the note for a while. So here I am belting this song, alone, in my flat, feeling good about myself and the fact that I am going to Rock the next time we are... rocking.
And then, because my lunch was over, I start making my way out of my flat, and as I close the door and turn around I spot two of my fellow Chinese teachers with the biggest Chinese grins on their faces and, in unison, and in a voice similar to the Chinese guys who sang "Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra" at the end of the movie "A Christmas Story," begin singing "OOOOOOOH BAAAAAABBBYYY!!!!!" and finish with a burst of humiliating Chinese laughter. That's right, I am the greatest man the ever lived... in China. Because only I would be dumb enough to think that no one would make fun me for singing so loud in my apartment.
Several of us foreign guys have established our own little Chinese 'night cap' and play the game Rock Band at least 3 nights out of the week. One fine evening, after a delightful meal, several of us make our way to the stage and begin rocking, and one of the songs we rock out too was by the band Weezer titled "I'm the greatest man that ever lived." Not to disappoint any of my readers who have complete faith in my rocking abilities, but the song was new too me and I sucked at life when it came time to play the song. Only He knows what might have happened if i was singing... maybe the earth would have collapsed with my suckiness. Nevertheless, I became determined to learn the song so that when I returned I would not only have improved, but would have improved with such awesomeness that I would be considered on par with the greats of Rock!
So, at lunch the next day, as I sat in my flat, I jumped over to youtube and listened to the song a couple of times in an effort to learn the song. Being alone in my house, I.... may.... have become overly bold and sang the song as though I were alone in my car... which means I was belting the song with great intensity in my flat. For those of you who have never heard the song there is a part where the singer, out of no where, hits the highest note ever sung by a man and sings "oooooooh baby, I've been told that I'm going crazy," and he holds the note for a while. So here I am belting this song, alone, in my flat, feeling good about myself and the fact that I am going to Rock the next time we are... rocking.
And then, because my lunch was over, I start making my way out of my flat, and as I close the door and turn around I spot two of my fellow Chinese teachers with the biggest Chinese grins on their faces and, in unison, and in a voice similar to the Chinese guys who sang "Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra" at the end of the movie "A Christmas Story," begin singing "OOOOOOOH BAAAAAABBBYYY!!!!!" and finish with a burst of humiliating Chinese laughter. That's right, I am the greatest man the ever lived... in China. Because only I would be dumb enough to think that no one would make fun me for singing so loud in my apartment.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
over two weeks in and no looking back
Just over two weeks ago I made the adventurous trip to China. Being my first trip to the orient I did not know what all to expect or who all I would meet. My experience here has been one of excitement and anticipation. Every new street I walk down and every new person that I meet has acted as a filling water within me that can only be expressed as a fulfilment to the needs of man, that is, the fulfilment of an adventure.
In coming to China, I had to throw away much of my belongings. This was mainly due to the clever, though ridiculous weight requirements posted by a European airline carrier whom I will not name. Nevertheless, as I sat in Edinburgh Airport shuffling through my luggage to weed out things that were not 'absolutely' needed, as all that I packed had sentimental or clothing value that was at least needed on a foundational level, I began to think of myself as a man readying to embark on a pilgrimage; not knowing what lied around the next corner.
The anticipation of landing in China for the first time kept me from sleeping at all on the flight over, though not for lack of trying. When we landed in Hong Kong and I looked out the window to see just just what China looked like, I became overwhelmed and excited. The rolling hills that surround the city were majestic and blocked and sight of looking more than two miles inland. On the other side of the plane, through windows blocked by the rest of the passengers, I could just make out the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean and some of the surrounding islands near HK.
I suppose the HK airport was my first "China experience," that European airline that I would not mention earlier was unable to provide a ticket for me that allowed me to get on my final flight to Wuhan where I would rendezvous with my friends who were coming from America; so with only an hour until my next flight I had to make my way through the unloading passengers and find my way to the nearest ticket desk. My new carrier, whom I will name, was Dragon Air; this is a company that is co-owned by Cathay Pacific and though I had the option to buy a Cathay Pacific ticket I chose the other... when in China, fly as the dragon does. One man beat me to the ticket line, and as it turned out he was the kind of customer who needed 20 minutes to explain his situation before anyone could help him - never mind the queue that was forming behind him. When I finally got to the desk I was speaking to a lady who was translating my English to a second woman who was training a third woman on how to use the computer. Needless to say, I was also one of those customers who needed 20 minutes. The security check was a breeze to get through (because everyone was held up at the line) and I made it to the plane as everyone was boarding. It was nice to look down the terminal and see friends who were anxiously waiting my arrival and who were equally worried about me not being on the flight to Wuhan.
The final flight was great and we landed in Wuhan Airport with no problems. Wuhan did not present any worthy stories except for the medical check I needed to take before actually coming to my final destination in Shiyan. This medical check consisted of a chest x-ray, a blood test, and eye exam, and an ultrasound. Before you ask, its a girl. The hospital was the most unsanitary place I have ever been and could have easily played host to a horror movie.
The drive from Wuhan to Shiyan took about 5 hours and as I watched the landscape change for the better I knew fortune smiled upon next year in China. Shiyan is a city surrounded by many low lying mountains, almost small enough to call hills, that are scattered throughout the landscape. This makes going places difficult as there a lot of hills one must often walk up to reach the places they go. But the city itself is beautiful. I can't wait for autumn when the heat and humidity fade and the surrounding scenic landscape changes into a parade of seasoned colors.
I am an English teacher here at East Wind #1 Middle School, at least I think that is how it was translated, and I have over 1000 students who all seem eager to want to learn how to speak English. The other teachers that work with have been so welcoming and the higher ups at the school have spared no expense on account of me being here. My only hope, if any, is that I can live up to the efforts these wonderful people have invested in me and that my being here provides a return they desire.
Finally, in walking the streets of the city and seeing how these wonderful people live their lives I have become enamored by both the Chinese and this city. I do not believe my being here is a mistake nor do I believe that the door to come was open for no reason. I am in search of finding my place both in the city of Shiyan and in His will; a revelation that will hopefully come soon.
In coming to China, I had to throw away much of my belongings. This was mainly due to the clever, though ridiculous weight requirements posted by a European airline carrier whom I will not name. Nevertheless, as I sat in Edinburgh Airport shuffling through my luggage to weed out things that were not 'absolutely' needed, as all that I packed had sentimental or clothing value that was at least needed on a foundational level, I began to think of myself as a man readying to embark on a pilgrimage; not knowing what lied around the next corner.
The anticipation of landing in China for the first time kept me from sleeping at all on the flight over, though not for lack of trying. When we landed in Hong Kong and I looked out the window to see just just what China looked like, I became overwhelmed and excited. The rolling hills that surround the city were majestic and blocked and sight of looking more than two miles inland. On the other side of the plane, through windows blocked by the rest of the passengers, I could just make out the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean and some of the surrounding islands near HK.
I suppose the HK airport was my first "China experience," that European airline that I would not mention earlier was unable to provide a ticket for me that allowed me to get on my final flight to Wuhan where I would rendezvous with my friends who were coming from America; so with only an hour until my next flight I had to make my way through the unloading passengers and find my way to the nearest ticket desk. My new carrier, whom I will name, was Dragon Air; this is a company that is co-owned by Cathay Pacific and though I had the option to buy a Cathay Pacific ticket I chose the other... when in China, fly as the dragon does. One man beat me to the ticket line, and as it turned out he was the kind of customer who needed 20 minutes to explain his situation before anyone could help him - never mind the queue that was forming behind him. When I finally got to the desk I was speaking to a lady who was translating my English to a second woman who was training a third woman on how to use the computer. Needless to say, I was also one of those customers who needed 20 minutes. The security check was a breeze to get through (because everyone was held up at the line) and I made it to the plane as everyone was boarding. It was nice to look down the terminal and see friends who were anxiously waiting my arrival and who were equally worried about me not being on the flight to Wuhan.
The final flight was great and we landed in Wuhan Airport with no problems. Wuhan did not present any worthy stories except for the medical check I needed to take before actually coming to my final destination in Shiyan. This medical check consisted of a chest x-ray, a blood test, and eye exam, and an ultrasound. Before you ask, its a girl. The hospital was the most unsanitary place I have ever been and could have easily played host to a horror movie.
The drive from Wuhan to Shiyan took about 5 hours and as I watched the landscape change for the better I knew fortune smiled upon next year in China. Shiyan is a city surrounded by many low lying mountains, almost small enough to call hills, that are scattered throughout the landscape. This makes going places difficult as there a lot of hills one must often walk up to reach the places they go. But the city itself is beautiful. I can't wait for autumn when the heat and humidity fade and the surrounding scenic landscape changes into a parade of seasoned colors.
I am an English teacher here at East Wind #1 Middle School, at least I think that is how it was translated, and I have over 1000 students who all seem eager to want to learn how to speak English. The other teachers that work with have been so welcoming and the higher ups at the school have spared no expense on account of me being here. My only hope, if any, is that I can live up to the efforts these wonderful people have invested in me and that my being here provides a return they desire.
Finally, in walking the streets of the city and seeing how these wonderful people live their lives I have become enamored by both the Chinese and this city. I do not believe my being here is a mistake nor do I believe that the door to come was open for no reason. I am in search of finding my place both in the city of Shiyan and in His will; a revelation that will hopefully come soon.
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