This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.
But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).
When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus. (Matthew 1: 18-24)
It's December 12th, and for the first year of my adult life, I am not in a frenzy of activity preparing for Christmas. No cards have been stamped, die-cut or glued (although I did give my students some of the extras I made last year), and wrapping has been replaced with packing up our entire lives...for the second time in six 1/2 months.
Instead of baking ten or fifteen varieties of cookies and candy, I'm cooking fried rice to use up all of the fresh vegetables. Arranging transport to the airport has replaced driving circles around the mall parking lot. Yes, there will be a few gifts for our loved ones, but nothing like the pile of debt we've seen beneath the tree in years past. Instead of finding trendy gifts that are on the wish lists, we're looking for cool Chinese gifts that won't make our suitcases overweight. And speaking of the tree--we don't have one. No trip to the country to cut down the perfect pine, no fragrant needles, no decorations, no lights in the window of our safe, cozy home. Nobody will be coming to visit, because we won't have a home until 2011. And to visit others--well, that's also a challenge because we will have no car. The Grinch of Christmas Present has whisked away all of our material trappings, leaving us with nothing we require to celebrate the big day.
I should be depressed. Christmas Past was defined by what I could cook, bake, decorate, prepare, create, and buy...sure, we practiced with the church choir for the annual Christmas Eve service, but not without grumbling about how late we had to stay learning the new songs, how all our family was far away while we were at the church, how maybe next year we'd quit the choir and go home for Christmas Eve. Frenzied activity typically eclipsed the advent wreath by week two or so, and the advent devotions were just one more item to check off of the to-do list each Sunday.
Instead I feel a profound sense of gratitude and peace. When we came to China, we fully expected to be away from our loved ones for Christmas. The plan was to go home over Spring Festival, to celebrate Chinese New Year as far from the crowds as possible with a late "family Christmas" somewhere in Upstate New York.
Yet here we are, preparing to go home and see our family. Before, during, and after Christmas, we will be with family and friends, and yes, we've even arranged to sing with the church choir on Christmas Eve. Ahh, family, the real meaning of Christmas, even if the warm glow won't be from my own personally beribboned and arranged tree, even if the cookies and pies will be baked by others, even of the gifts all have to weigh less than 10 ounces...at least we will be with family. That's what Christmas is all about.
Except--it's really not. Nobody loves their family more than I do, and it is definitely a dream come true for me to go home and hug them all repeatedly. But while thinking about the gifts, wandering through the streets and markets of Beijing looking for the "cool Chinese thing" for each kid, packing and arranging and wondering if I might need to mail home more of my clothing so that the gifts can fit in our bags...
I realized the source of my gratitude, the identity of my peace. It is simply this: regardless of what I bake or don't bake, cook or don't cook, buy or don't buy, neither I nor anyone else can top the best Christmas, the finest gift, the most spectacular light and music show...the humble starlit stable holding the gift of immortality in a tiny feeding trough while all of heaven's hosts shouted "Glory!" All of my striving and stressing during Christmas Past never created the perfect Christmas. We all know being home will be a fabulous "gift", for me, AJ, our family & friends... but even this extreme joy can't top the original.
My prayer this Christmas is that you stop. Give up. You can't top the best Christmas ever, so you might as well just rest in the love that made that day possible. Tell it to your children, show them your peace, let them unwrap the gift of immortality that was given to all who will accept it more than two thousand years ago--on a date nobody recognized as important enough to record (probably NOT December 25th) and breathe. We'll see you all soon--on the other side of the bike lane.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Love the people you're with
Almost anyone reading this probably knows by now that AJ & I have decided to cut our year in China short & return to Albany after six months. You may wonder why we "gave up," or may already know the much-discussed details of the job that wasn't what I expected, the homesickness that never went away, the inability to truly help people here because what I actually signed up for, instead of a service to orphans, was a very intense job that just happens to be in another country. Instead of working to minister to others, I found myself working to make money for a business that happens to be run by Christians. The sacrifice to stay finally outweighed the benefits of being here the day I realized that there was no limit to my classroom hours, and that the orphans would probably have to learn without me when the moneymaking (read "middle-aged Caucasian") teacher was assigned to the "paying customers".
I'm here to say that, at least until we leave, I'm done talking about it. I love all of my family & friends for their sympathy, their understanding, and most of all their excitement at our potential return--not to mention their help finding a place to live, a job, or whatever else we may need when we get there. But it feels like I've wasted enough of what should be a crazy exciting adventure complaining and trying to figure out what went wrong.
So, for the next 35 days, or until the company shows me the airport (whichever comes first), I plan to appreciate what we have here. After all is said and done, even the "paying customers" are people who need the Lord, and to whom I can show kindness and love even if it's against the law to tell them why I am doing it. The children, their parents, and the other people who surround us every day deserve my wholehearted effort to make the most of what time we have left.
I want to begin by making a list of things I love about China...OK, at least about Beijing, and the people I've met here. Lots of bloggers talk about negative aspects of the expat experience--I want people to know that there's good wrapped up in the insanity. From today until I leave here, every time I write, I will tell you one thing that I am incredibly thankful for about THIS place, where I am, at THIS time in my life.
There are people here who serve others without a thought, accepting little pay for selfless work. Today I'm home sick and the cleaning lady came. The word "ayi" means "auntie", and this is what she told me her name was. Let me tell you, this woman, although she's my age or younger, takes care of me exactly like a member of the family. If AJ or I are doing any type of housework--dishes, laundry, you name it--when she walks in the door, she shoos us away and takes over. She cleans everything in the house from top to bottom for the equivalent of around $15 a week. It usually takes her about six hours.
I have a hard time looking at her hands, because they're so red and puffy from constantly scrubbing things and being in water. It's a guilty feeling for someone who grew up in a poor household to make someone else do what I should probably do myself--and she does it well, with a joyful heart.
One Wednesday I came home to find a 50 yuan bill--all she makes in a day--on the dining room table, and a jar of night cream missing from the bathroom shelf. Saturday I waited for her to see if she had left the money--she pantomimed dusting the shelf, knocking the cream off and breaking it on the floor. I tried to return the money--but she refused, finding money less important than doing the right thing.
Today she noticed that we've taken down all of our family pictures and are packing a few things...she pantomimed an airplane & waved to me...looking really sad. I see her as the woman whose hands my housework destroys..she sees herself as my ayi. It's a really humbling experience.
Sunday after church, AJ & I stopped at a bike repair shop he knows of to get my back tire fixed & reattach my basket after a piece of metal had pierced the tube...and the basket came loose from being dumped to the ground one too many times. (Different story.) The repair guy was really good--he patched the tire, found bolts for the basket, and had it all done in about fifteen minutes. When AJ pulled out his wallet & asked how much, the guy held up three fingers. AJ gave him a 20 and a 10, and the guy just shook his head and laughed. He took the ten, pulled seven out of his pocket, and handed AJ his change. The man's time and expertise cost us about 45 cents.
So to those people who say things like, "In Beijing, it's not a matter of if you'll get ripped off, but when," I say...try looking at the other side for a minute. In my experience, most people here are good, honest, hardworking folks just like the rest of us...who sacrifice very much for very little. Today, I am thankful for the good people of China, who treat even ignorant foreigners with dignity and respect.
I'm here to say that, at least until we leave, I'm done talking about it. I love all of my family & friends for their sympathy, their understanding, and most of all their excitement at our potential return--not to mention their help finding a place to live, a job, or whatever else we may need when we get there. But it feels like I've wasted enough of what should be a crazy exciting adventure complaining and trying to figure out what went wrong.
So, for the next 35 days, or until the company shows me the airport (whichever comes first), I plan to appreciate what we have here. After all is said and done, even the "paying customers" are people who need the Lord, and to whom I can show kindness and love even if it's against the law to tell them why I am doing it. The children, their parents, and the other people who surround us every day deserve my wholehearted effort to make the most of what time we have left.
I want to begin by making a list of things I love about China...OK, at least about Beijing, and the people I've met here. Lots of bloggers talk about negative aspects of the expat experience--I want people to know that there's good wrapped up in the insanity. From today until I leave here, every time I write, I will tell you one thing that I am incredibly thankful for about THIS place, where I am, at THIS time in my life.
There are people here who serve others without a thought, accepting little pay for selfless work. Today I'm home sick and the cleaning lady came. The word "ayi" means "auntie", and this is what she told me her name was. Let me tell you, this woman, although she's my age or younger, takes care of me exactly like a member of the family. If AJ or I are doing any type of housework--dishes, laundry, you name it--when she walks in the door, she shoos us away and takes over. She cleans everything in the house from top to bottom for the equivalent of around $15 a week. It usually takes her about six hours.
I have a hard time looking at her hands, because they're so red and puffy from constantly scrubbing things and being in water. It's a guilty feeling for someone who grew up in a poor household to make someone else do what I should probably do myself--and she does it well, with a joyful heart.
One Wednesday I came home to find a 50 yuan bill--all she makes in a day--on the dining room table, and a jar of night cream missing from the bathroom shelf. Saturday I waited for her to see if she had left the money--she pantomimed dusting the shelf, knocking the cream off and breaking it on the floor. I tried to return the money--but she refused, finding money less important than doing the right thing.
Today she noticed that we've taken down all of our family pictures and are packing a few things...she pantomimed an airplane & waved to me...looking really sad. I see her as the woman whose hands my housework destroys..she sees herself as my ayi. It's a really humbling experience.
Sunday after church, AJ & I stopped at a bike repair shop he knows of to get my back tire fixed & reattach my basket after a piece of metal had pierced the tube...and the basket came loose from being dumped to the ground one too many times. (Different story.) The repair guy was really good--he patched the tire, found bolts for the basket, and had it all done in about fifteen minutes. When AJ pulled out his wallet & asked how much, the guy held up three fingers. AJ gave him a 20 and a 10, and the guy just shook his head and laughed. He took the ten, pulled seven out of his pocket, and handed AJ his change. The man's time and expertise cost us about 45 cents.
So to those people who say things like, "In Beijing, it's not a matter of if you'll get ripped off, but when," I say...try looking at the other side for a minute. In my experience, most people here are good, honest, hardworking folks just like the rest of us...who sacrifice very much for very little. Today, I am thankful for the good people of China, who treat even ignorant foreigners with dignity and respect.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Happy Birthday Little Ayden Man...
Happy Birthday to you!
I can't believe that you're four years old now. How is it possible that the little baby I sang that night-night (little Ayden man)song to so many times might just be too big to rock in my arms again? Just like when Angelina turned one, this is the hardest day yet. All I can think of is--what kind of cake will you have for your party? I hope it's yummy but...will you even remember the times Grammy made you a special cake, for the first three birthdays?
I'm so happy that you don't forget me and your Pops when you're growing bigger, going to school, playing...we love it when you call us on the computer so we can see your happy, lively play times & enjoy showing you around the apartment and the neighborhood.
We love it when you call us on the way to school, and tell us what you're doing with Mom & Dad & Kitty Girl. We love to get all of the pictures that your Mommy & Daddy put on their facebook and show all of our students what a big boy you are. We were so happy when you went to Vacation Bible School, and hope that you will see more of the people who love you at the choir church...and remember the first time you went there & heard the amazing bagpipe music for Heritage Sunday.
There are so many "first" things to remember when you have a first grandbaby...but the most difficult first thing is happening today. It's the first time in four years that we won't be there to see you blow out your candles..and the saddest thing that's happened between us and our little Ayden man since the day you were born.
Pops and I sure do love you, and we sure do miss you more today than ever. Forgive us for not being there on your special day...and know that even on the other side of the world, we love you more than you can imagine.
Love,
Grammy
XOXOXO
I can't believe that you're four years old now. How is it possible that the little baby I sang that night-night (little Ayden man)song to so many times might just be too big to rock in my arms again? Just like when Angelina turned one, this is the hardest day yet. All I can think of is--what kind of cake will you have for your party? I hope it's yummy but...will you even remember the times Grammy made you a special cake, for the first three birthdays?
I'm so happy that you don't forget me and your Pops when you're growing bigger, going to school, playing...we love it when you call us on the computer so we can see your happy, lively play times & enjoy showing you around the apartment and the neighborhood.
We love it when you call us on the way to school, and tell us what you're doing with Mom & Dad & Kitty Girl. We love to get all of the pictures that your Mommy & Daddy put on their facebook and show all of our students what a big boy you are. We were so happy when you went to Vacation Bible School, and hope that you will see more of the people who love you at the choir church...and remember the first time you went there & heard the amazing bagpipe music for Heritage Sunday.
There are so many "first" things to remember when you have a first grandbaby...but the most difficult first thing is happening today. It's the first time in four years that we won't be there to see you blow out your candles..and the saddest thing that's happened between us and our little Ayden man since the day you were born.
Pops and I sure do love you, and we sure do miss you more today than ever. Forgive us for not being there on your special day...and know that even on the other side of the world, we love you more than you can imagine.
Love,
Grammy
XOXOXO
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Happy Birthday Angelina!
Yes, I know, it was actually yesterday....yes, it's the same day both here & at home right now. But today is the big day, Angelina's first birthday party, and also--the day I most regret being thousands of miles away...so far.
Understand, we didn't live near Angelina at home either...but we went to see her for her baptism, and stopped in for dinner on our way back from an interview once, and she came to see us at Christmas last year...all impossible from the other side of the world.
I'm thankful for my daughter-in-law, who sends me pictures and updates...the last one was so darn cute I'm putting it here for a while, just so everyone can enjoy my grandbaby with me.
I'm thankful for my son, whose deliberate decision to be a great dad is paying off in obvious and tangible ways...like seeing his tiny daughter waiting at the top of the driveway when he comes home. Like sharing a laugh with Grammy when I call, and Angelina is talking away, and she completely stops when he puts the phone to her ear. How confusing it must be in her one-year-old world...."I hear Grammy but she's not here...darn phone must be broken again!"
I'm thankful for the love they lavish on her, and for the financial security she will enjoy...Lord willing...that Frank never had as a little one. And I'm thankful that out of his life experiences, instead of becoming a bitter, grasping man, he learned to work hard, love his family with open arms, and enjoy life together.
We are blessed with their family, even from the other side of the world... nevertheless, it's my most difficult day so far.
I'm with you in spirit, Angelina!
Love,
Grammy
xoxoxo
Understand, we didn't live near Angelina at home either...but we went to see her for her baptism, and stopped in for dinner on our way back from an interview once, and she came to see us at Christmas last year...all impossible from the other side of the world.
I'm thankful for my daughter-in-law, who sends me pictures and updates...the last one was so darn cute I'm putting it here for a while, just so everyone can enjoy my grandbaby with me.
I'm thankful for my son, whose deliberate decision to be a great dad is paying off in obvious and tangible ways...like seeing his tiny daughter waiting at the top of the driveway when he comes home. Like sharing a laugh with Grammy when I call, and Angelina is talking away, and she completely stops when he puts the phone to her ear. How confusing it must be in her one-year-old world...."I hear Grammy but she's not here...darn phone must be broken again!"
I'm thankful for the love they lavish on her, and for the financial security she will enjoy...Lord willing...that Frank never had as a little one. And I'm thankful that out of his life experiences, instead of becoming a bitter, grasping man, he learned to work hard, love his family with open arms, and enjoy life together.
We are blessed with their family, even from the other side of the world... nevertheless, it's my most difficult day so far.
I'm with you in spirit, Angelina!
Love,
Grammy
xoxoxo
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Why my hair is orange, (or), Life on the other side of "If they want to live in our country the least they could do is learn our language"
Having almost certainly overcome last week's food poisoning (my brother Sean said I didn't have to come this far to get bad Chinese food...he can get it right in Rome), I am back on my bike,riding up and down the access lanes of the HaiDian district and every now & then while I'm focusing on weaving in & out of the bikes, scooters, vendor carts, taxis, buses, and people who find the perfectly lovely gigantic empty sidewalks dull and feel the need to walk on the wild side by risking their lives walking in traffic, I stop and wonder:
What must these people THINK when they see me coming?
Say you're an old Chinese guy, out for a ride in the early evening, going the "wrong way" along the bike path because your wife forgot to buy the leeks this morning and she's already begun cooking the beef and you live on the same side of the road as the Merry Mart, so you always use that side for going back and forth for your groceries...you've almost arrived at your apartment complex and here is this forty-something white woman with orange hair weaving around all of the scooter-driving daredevils saying "Seriously?!" when they rub against her rear tire.
I don't know what everyone else thinks, but today's old guy got within two feet of me and laughed in my face.
Frankly, it was a little scary...I was hoping it was friendly but the laugh definitely had a tinge of maniacal.
It made me think about communication, hair color, and why "they" don't learn "our" language.
About a month ago my roots were getting pretty obvious so I asked the cute Mandarin teacher in our office, whose hair and nails are always perfect, where she gets her hair done. She told me about her salon and even went there on her lunch break to make an appointment for me. I was very excited as I walked into the upscale shop & was greeted by her very fancy stylist...whose name I cannot remember and could not pronounce correctly when I knew it...and it became obvious in about half a second that he doesn't speak English. Between my friend on the phone, a moderately good English speaking "interpreter"/stylist, and several very interested other patrons, I managed to be seated, draped, and given a book of swatches to choose my color from. I tried to ask them to use the color Dwayne sent with me from Albany....no good. I asked them to simply match the color as best they could...no good. Finally I picked something very close to my usual and said, "this one looks OK."
The "interpreter" said:"Do you like red? Because--it will be red."
"Sure, a little red is OK..."
It looked like my typical brown with a bit of copper to me...
By the time I left the place I had a really great cut...and orange hair. It later occurred to me that the swatches must be what it looks like on black hair...strip the black down to mousy brown, and you get my exact shade of pumpkin.
Sophie(the Mandarin teacher) said:
"I think maybe next time I should go with you."
Just after the maniacal old guy, I was passed on the path by the Merry Mart van, which caused me to utter my usual Merry-Mart-Van curse ("Stupid freakin' Merry Mart Van")...a residual of one day before bicycles, when AJ & I went shopping on the way home from work and, loaded down with huge sacks of groceries, attempted to catch a ride home on the Merry Mart Van which, the signs assure us, is a free shuttle for Merry Mart customers. Upon arriving at the Merry Mart Van holding area, I tried out my Chinese skills on a man leaning on one of the vehicles, asking him if his was the correct shuttle for our apartment complex: "Yicheng Dongyuan ma?"
This guy also laughed. And pointed down the road in the direction of our building. We never did figure out whether it was his attempt to get the lazy Meiguoren (Meiguorens?) to walk the (extremely long)block home, or if the shuttles were done for the day...it was like 9:30..
Anyway all of this (mis) communication has really made me think about people who say "they really need to learn our language".
What if...they're trying to?
What must these people THINK when they see me coming?
Say you're an old Chinese guy, out for a ride in the early evening, going the "wrong way" along the bike path because your wife forgot to buy the leeks this morning and she's already begun cooking the beef and you live on the same side of the road as the Merry Mart, so you always use that side for going back and forth for your groceries...you've almost arrived at your apartment complex and here is this forty-something white woman with orange hair weaving around all of the scooter-driving daredevils saying "Seriously?!" when they rub against her rear tire.
I don't know what everyone else thinks, but today's old guy got within two feet of me and laughed in my face.
Frankly, it was a little scary...I was hoping it was friendly but the laugh definitely had a tinge of maniacal.
It made me think about communication, hair color, and why "they" don't learn "our" language.
About a month ago my roots were getting pretty obvious so I asked the cute Mandarin teacher in our office, whose hair and nails are always perfect, where she gets her hair done. She told me about her salon and even went there on her lunch break to make an appointment for me. I was very excited as I walked into the upscale shop & was greeted by her very fancy stylist...whose name I cannot remember and could not pronounce correctly when I knew it...and it became obvious in about half a second that he doesn't speak English. Between my friend on the phone, a moderately good English speaking "interpreter"/stylist, and several very interested other patrons, I managed to be seated, draped, and given a book of swatches to choose my color from. I tried to ask them to use the color Dwayne sent with me from Albany....no good. I asked them to simply match the color as best they could...no good. Finally I picked something very close to my usual and said, "this one looks OK."
The "interpreter" said:"Do you like red? Because--it will be red."
"Sure, a little red is OK..."
It looked like my typical brown with a bit of copper to me...
By the time I left the place I had a really great cut...and orange hair. It later occurred to me that the swatches must be what it looks like on black hair...strip the black down to mousy brown, and you get my exact shade of pumpkin.
Sophie(the Mandarin teacher) said:
"I think maybe next time I should go with you."
Just after the maniacal old guy, I was passed on the path by the Merry Mart van, which caused me to utter my usual Merry-Mart-Van curse ("Stupid freakin' Merry Mart Van")...a residual of one day before bicycles, when AJ & I went shopping on the way home from work and, loaded down with huge sacks of groceries, attempted to catch a ride home on the Merry Mart Van which, the signs assure us, is a free shuttle for Merry Mart customers. Upon arriving at the Merry Mart Van holding area, I tried out my Chinese skills on a man leaning on one of the vehicles, asking him if his was the correct shuttle for our apartment complex: "Yicheng Dongyuan ma?"
This guy also laughed. And pointed down the road in the direction of our building. We never did figure out whether it was his attempt to get the lazy Meiguoren (Meiguorens?) to walk the (extremely long)block home, or if the shuttles were done for the day...it was like 9:30..
Anyway all of this (mis) communication has really made me think about people who say "they really need to learn our language".
What if...they're trying to?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television in China
In an attempt to offset the weight of my last post, and with apologies to the late George Carlin (may he have changed his mind at the last minute), here's my list of "Seven words you can never say in China":
7) Church
6) Missionary
5) Christian
4) Bible
3) Censorship
2) God
and...
1) Jesus (well, OK, you can say it but...)
These are words I've heard "code" for (or have observed were noticeably absent from people's conversations) since we've been here...AJ & I went to a small group on Friday for the first time since coming here...we studied the "Book" and prayed for someone's daughter who is on an "M" trip.
Reminded me of something I read on the US Embassy website before coming here....You can never assume privacy in China.
Pretty weird stuff for a girl from Rome, NY!
7) Church
6) Missionary
5) Christian
4) Bible
3) Censorship
2) God
and...
1) Jesus (well, OK, you can say it but...)
These are words I've heard "code" for (or have observed were noticeably absent from people's conversations) since we've been here...AJ & I went to a small group on Friday for the first time since coming here...we studied the "Book" and prayed for someone's daughter who is on an "M" trip.
Reminded me of something I read on the US Embassy website before coming here....You can never assume privacy in China.
Pretty weird stuff for a girl from Rome, NY!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
“Line Between Chimerica & Frenemy”
Seriously. Above is the title of tonight’s “Dialogue” episode on CCTV news. There’s a lot of heated discussion about the US presence in the South China Sea these days—so the news gurus put together a Chinese Poli Sci professor, a US “International Relations Expert” and a Sino-über–conservative anchorman and let them go at it. And this was the title their editors came up with…sort of reduces a very serious, very important international issue to “Brangelina” status.
This weekend, the hot topic was China’s global image, and what the country can do to present an appropriate image for a rising power…I’m thinking, hire a pragmatics consultant? That particular news program featured the lady I call the Disney Princess (or Barbie Doll lady, or Lady in a prom dress, depending on the day). She is actually a very good news anchor/host, and knows how to get her guests to discuss the stickiest issues in the best (yet still censor safe) ways. But—she typically wears pink fluffy dresses, ruffles, flounces—basically, Barbie Doll clothes.
After nearly three months, I’m getting a hint about the image problem. Have I already mentioned—the country is a study in contrasts? The hard-hitting news anchor looks perkier than Katie Couric, if that’s possible. We left the Summer Palace on our bikes Sunday afternoon, where tourists from China and abroad spent thousands of Yuan to wander about looking at artifacts and eating overpriced hot dogs, and rode through a street the businessmen’s Mercedes and Audis could barely fit through because of the fruit peddlers broken-down, rusty carts and equally broken-down, corroded shacks. What may be the most frightening US-Sino relationship problem of the decade has a Brangelina-esque label. Experts scratch their heads and wonder about the country’s image on the Sunday news, and I have to subscribe to a VPN to tell you about it. We have buffoonery in the media (at least in that area China has caught up to the US) but don’t have freedom of speech or religion, which were honestly two things I never thought about when I had them.
The most discouraging day of my China adventure to date was directly related to these particular freedoms. We met a very friendly grad student from Beijing while we were still in Albany, and had her over to dinner to pick her brains about life in China. While she was home for the summer, she offered to help us go to the post office and mail some things out. We arranged a meeting time for a Sunday—China doesn’t care about Sundays, so we can do banking, postal errands, whatever, all weekend.
I told our friend that we could meet her after church and she said— “I’ve been wondering about that—I’d really like to go to the service with you.”
For the first time in my life, I was on the opposite end of the church invitation turndown. In America, we ask people to come to church, and they turn us down. Here, they want to come along—and they can’t. See, the Chinese government allows foreigners the freedom to worship in our own way—as long as we promise not to include any of their people. Anyone who knows about Martin Luther and the Renaissance knows that thinking too hard about church can certainly give one troublesome ideas, and the Party wants to avoid this at all costs. Only those with foreign passports can go to foreign churches. Chinese citizens who have a non-sanctioned church (one that doesn’t come under official State leadership) soon find it very difficult to rent space for meetings, to gather without being harassed, to explore that freedom we Americans take for granted. And if we allow anyone from China to come to our service, we, too, will be shut down—or even have the dreaded “detained and deported” experience.
You might wonder—with all of these people, presumably seekers at core, why do they tolerate it? Why not do something, say something, make change happen for themselves?
That’s where the other lack of freedom comes in. When I told my friend that she couldn’t go along because of her citizenship, she was shocked. She seemed to have no idea that such restrictions existed. If you can control speech and religion, you, too, can have a blissfully ignorant populace, where eighteen-year-old students tell their dismayed, speechless English teachers, “I am a free man”. Freedom is pretty relative, and I suppose this is truer for him than it was for his grandfather. Still--not my idea of an accurate sentence.
Image control problems? You bet. It’s pretty tough to present a positive image to the outside world while keeping your people behind the wall. The Stepford-wife news anchor might be a move in the right direction, but for heaven’s sake, tell her the truth about what the outside sees—not knowing you’re in captivity doesn’t make you free. It’s like the little kids who color the sky gray in their drawings—there’s blue out there somewhere, but let’s not talk about it from inside the Great Pall.
This weekend, the hot topic was China’s global image, and what the country can do to present an appropriate image for a rising power…I’m thinking, hire a pragmatics consultant? That particular news program featured the lady I call the Disney Princess (or Barbie Doll lady, or Lady in a prom dress, depending on the day). She is actually a very good news anchor/host, and knows how to get her guests to discuss the stickiest issues in the best (yet still censor safe) ways. But—she typically wears pink fluffy dresses, ruffles, flounces—basically, Barbie Doll clothes.
After nearly three months, I’m getting a hint about the image problem. Have I already mentioned—the country is a study in contrasts? The hard-hitting news anchor looks perkier than Katie Couric, if that’s possible. We left the Summer Palace on our bikes Sunday afternoon, where tourists from China and abroad spent thousands of Yuan to wander about looking at artifacts and eating overpriced hot dogs, and rode through a street the businessmen’s Mercedes and Audis could barely fit through because of the fruit peddlers broken-down, rusty carts and equally broken-down, corroded shacks. What may be the most frightening US-Sino relationship problem of the decade has a Brangelina-esque label. Experts scratch their heads and wonder about the country’s image on the Sunday news, and I have to subscribe to a VPN to tell you about it. We have buffoonery in the media (at least in that area China has caught up to the US) but don’t have freedom of speech or religion, which were honestly two things I never thought about when I had them.
The most discouraging day of my China adventure to date was directly related to these particular freedoms. We met a very friendly grad student from Beijing while we were still in Albany, and had her over to dinner to pick her brains about life in China. While she was home for the summer, she offered to help us go to the post office and mail some things out. We arranged a meeting time for a Sunday—China doesn’t care about Sundays, so we can do banking, postal errands, whatever, all weekend.
I told our friend that we could meet her after church and she said— “I’ve been wondering about that—I’d really like to go to the service with you.”
For the first time in my life, I was on the opposite end of the church invitation turndown. In America, we ask people to come to church, and they turn us down. Here, they want to come along—and they can’t. See, the Chinese government allows foreigners the freedom to worship in our own way—as long as we promise not to include any of their people. Anyone who knows about Martin Luther and the Renaissance knows that thinking too hard about church can certainly give one troublesome ideas, and the Party wants to avoid this at all costs. Only those with foreign passports can go to foreign churches. Chinese citizens who have a non-sanctioned church (one that doesn’t come under official State leadership) soon find it very difficult to rent space for meetings, to gather without being harassed, to explore that freedom we Americans take for granted. And if we allow anyone from China to come to our service, we, too, will be shut down—or even have the dreaded “detained and deported” experience.
You might wonder—with all of these people, presumably seekers at core, why do they tolerate it? Why not do something, say something, make change happen for themselves?
That’s where the other lack of freedom comes in. When I told my friend that she couldn’t go along because of her citizenship, she was shocked. She seemed to have no idea that such restrictions existed. If you can control speech and religion, you, too, can have a blissfully ignorant populace, where eighteen-year-old students tell their dismayed, speechless English teachers, “I am a free man”. Freedom is pretty relative, and I suppose this is truer for him than it was for his grandfather. Still--not my idea of an accurate sentence.
Image control problems? You bet. It’s pretty tough to present a positive image to the outside world while keeping your people behind the wall. The Stepford-wife news anchor might be a move in the right direction, but for heaven’s sake, tell her the truth about what the outside sees—not knowing you’re in captivity doesn’t make you free. It’s like the little kids who color the sky gray in their drawings—there’s blue out there somewhere, but let’s not talk about it from inside the Great Pall.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
The Fourth of July Post
If the band opens with “Fortunate Son,” you know it’s gonna be a good set.
Well that’s my opener for this Beijing update, folks…not sure whether to be cheery or gloomy but both seem appropriate after a month away from home.
So, AJ & I were really really wishing for some honest-to-goodness American food tonight…nothing fancy, like you’d find at “Grandma’s Kitchen”, but just a burger or fries or a chicken Caesar salad. I got the salad & he got the wrap.
At Lush (honest, it’s the real name of the bar/restaurant near our office) there was a new band for “live band night”—pretty sure that's the name--a bunch of young-ish guys who turned out to be AMAZING! We enjoyed it so much. It was a lot like Lark St without Aunt Dorie & Uncle Dave (which, if you think too much, is actually rather pathetic). Whatever. The band was good, the food was good, the relaxation went very well. Lush has several awards on the wall—Beijing’s best weekly happy hour specials, best student hangout, best bar food….guess that sums it up. We were, hands down, the oldest people in the place—and possibly the only ones who knew all of the lyrics, including the lead singer ;0)
For a little hint at the income disparity that exists here--migrant workers, who are a large part of the Chinese labor force, were featured on the business news a couple of nights ago--because China has just raised the minimum wage to 900 yuan (about $133 US) per month. Our food alone (not including any drinks but water) cost 90 yuan at Lush. We would only get to eat ten times a month if we made minimum wage. Every now & then, in class, I'm reminded of where my students have come from by some little thing...Thursday we had a dialog where one woman said she was "doing taxes". Nobody understood taxes, so I told them they are money paid to the government to help maintain society. Blank stares all around...it is very possible that neither they, nor anyone they have ever lived with, has been fortunate enough to make an income that requires the payment of taxes. And after reviewing my first paycheck, I'm pretty sure that the rates begin at 2,000 yuan monthly.
Anyway...just before diner, I braved the back alleys & upper rooms, and got my first Chinese manicure& pedicure. We found a little shop off of a hair salon & I sat down for what they said was a one-hour session…about two hours before i left! AJ had plenty of time to go home, change clothes, come back, go shopping…
The girl who did my nails was very good, and spoke some English as well. She told me that she likes studying English but doesn’t have time for it now. She was very excited to learn that I’m an English teacher—so much that she asked me to “write English name” for her. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted for a while..then realized that she wanted me to NAME her! Her Chinese name was something like Seia Sho, so I though…Samantha! She couldn’t say Samantha, but “very liked” Sammie. Long story short—I now have a nail technician named Sammie. All of the other girls in the shop laughed, but she assured me that she very liked the new English name, and made me write it down & say it several times. At least that solves the mystery of how all of those Chinese students who come to New York get American names---some random lady in a nail salon arbitrarily picks one and—viola! You have an English name!
We are missing home a lot these days—I heard someone learning to play saxophone outside of the office yesterday, working on a rendition of “America the Beautiful” throughout the day. Over and over and over. Sure made me homesick, especially when the Nadeaus are gathering in Ticonderoga for “The Best Fourth in the North” and the Hallenbecks are gathering at Verona Beach for who-knows-what Reunion insanity. The band guys gave us the name of the club where they’ll be playing on the 4th & the pastor from the Beijing International Christian Fellowship called today—who knows if they may have a cookout going too. It could go either way. Oh, and some guy from DC named Chris is throwing a pool party at a swanky hotel in the Central Business District…150 yuan gets us transportation, LOTS of drinks, swimming, and, if the flier is accurate, an after-party with Eva Longoria. Hmmm. Better throw Chris off the short list.
It’s a bit of a toss-up…when I work I know the kids benefit from me being there, even if I do feel like it‘s a cross between The Twilight Zone & Let’s Make a Deal (because there are too many bizarre things to describe, although AJ has definitely tried, and you really need to have EVERYTHING in your purse, in case you’re called on to define something like “Charge it” or “Sewing”). The kids are, have been, and will be rewarding, and remind me daily of why I’m here. But then there are the very long sessions in the office doing weekly paperwork, writing lesson plans (not to mention inventing curriculum) and the times at or en route to home when I get the impression that there is NOTHING dust-free in Beijing. And by the way, there are NO women in my office, unless we count three twenty-something part-time Mandarin teachers who I’m going to be teaching conversational English to beginning next week. Also, of course, I miss my kids & grandbabies incredibly. I am honestly not sure how people do this for years & years at a time. If you ask me, I will say that I am certain this is where we belong—there were too many “coincidences” that led us here for me to think otherwise. And when I see a sentence in the homework that says “We loving the teach very much”, it doesn’t hurt. When the kid who doesn’t really care if he stays or goes lights up for AJ’s tutoring sessions, that’s pretty awesome, too. I've heard a cheesy preacher saying that rings true at times like these...the will of God won't take you where the grace of God can't keep you. I am finding this to be quite true.
I heard a rumor today that the school closes over Christmas for a week or so. Not sure how the guy came to this conclusion, seeing how we've only been open since March, but…wouldn’t that be amazing, to be able to come home instead of wallowing in limbo between Narnia and Nirvana? One can only hope. And by the way, yesterday we finally found ground coffee—AJ had bought me a VERY expensive, VERY tiny coffee maker, only to discover that the stores that sell the pots don’t really understand about the coffee….Starbucks carried some for around $50 a pound…not happening…then, finally, there was a small brick of French coffee at a market where they have some imported goods. It tasted AMAZING this morning. Now all I need are some authentic Italian herbs…basil oregano, parsley, maybe some Parmesan cheese…and I will be in business. Italian night, here we come!
Whatever happens, I’ll let you know how the concert goes…or how the pastor’s barbecue tastes. Eva will have to wait for another time. Don’t you wish every day was the Fourth of July?
Well that’s my opener for this Beijing update, folks…not sure whether to be cheery or gloomy but both seem appropriate after a month away from home.
So, AJ & I were really really wishing for some honest-to-goodness American food tonight…nothing fancy, like you’d find at “Grandma’s Kitchen”, but just a burger or fries or a chicken Caesar salad. I got the salad & he got the wrap.
At Lush (honest, it’s the real name of the bar/restaurant near our office) there was a new band for “live band night”—pretty sure that's the name--a bunch of young-ish guys who turned out to be AMAZING! We enjoyed it so much. It was a lot like Lark St without Aunt Dorie & Uncle Dave (which, if you think too much, is actually rather pathetic). Whatever. The band was good, the food was good, the relaxation went very well. Lush has several awards on the wall—Beijing’s best weekly happy hour specials, best student hangout, best bar food….guess that sums it up. We were, hands down, the oldest people in the place—and possibly the only ones who knew all of the lyrics, including the lead singer ;0)
For a little hint at the income disparity that exists here--migrant workers, who are a large part of the Chinese labor force, were featured on the business news a couple of nights ago--because China has just raised the minimum wage to 900 yuan (about $133 US) per month. Our food alone (not including any drinks but water) cost 90 yuan at Lush. We would only get to eat ten times a month if we made minimum wage. Every now & then, in class, I'm reminded of where my students have come from by some little thing...Thursday we had a dialog where one woman said she was "doing taxes". Nobody understood taxes, so I told them they are money paid to the government to help maintain society. Blank stares all around...it is very possible that neither they, nor anyone they have ever lived with, has been fortunate enough to make an income that requires the payment of taxes. And after reviewing my first paycheck, I'm pretty sure that the rates begin at 2,000 yuan monthly.
Anyway...just before diner, I braved the back alleys & upper rooms, and got my first Chinese manicure& pedicure. We found a little shop off of a hair salon & I sat down for what they said was a one-hour session…about two hours before i left! AJ had plenty of time to go home, change clothes, come back, go shopping…
The girl who did my nails was very good, and spoke some English as well. She told me that she likes studying English but doesn’t have time for it now. She was very excited to learn that I’m an English teacher—so much that she asked me to “write English name” for her. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted for a while..then realized that she wanted me to NAME her! Her Chinese name was something like Seia Sho, so I though…Samantha! She couldn’t say Samantha, but “very liked” Sammie. Long story short—I now have a nail technician named Sammie. All of the other girls in the shop laughed, but she assured me that she very liked the new English name, and made me write it down & say it several times. At least that solves the mystery of how all of those Chinese students who come to New York get American names---some random lady in a nail salon arbitrarily picks one and—viola! You have an English name!
We are missing home a lot these days—I heard someone learning to play saxophone outside of the office yesterday, working on a rendition of “America the Beautiful” throughout the day. Over and over and over. Sure made me homesick, especially when the Nadeaus are gathering in Ticonderoga for “The Best Fourth in the North” and the Hallenbecks are gathering at Verona Beach for who-knows-what Reunion insanity. The band guys gave us the name of the club where they’ll be playing on the 4th & the pastor from the Beijing International Christian Fellowship called today—who knows if they may have a cookout going too. It could go either way. Oh, and some guy from DC named Chris is throwing a pool party at a swanky hotel in the Central Business District…150 yuan gets us transportation, LOTS of drinks, swimming, and, if the flier is accurate, an after-party with Eva Longoria. Hmmm. Better throw Chris off the short list.
It’s a bit of a toss-up…when I work I know the kids benefit from me being there, even if I do feel like it‘s a cross between The Twilight Zone & Let’s Make a Deal (because there are too many bizarre things to describe, although AJ has definitely tried, and you really need to have EVERYTHING in your purse, in case you’re called on to define something like “Charge it” or “Sewing”). The kids are, have been, and will be rewarding, and remind me daily of why I’m here. But then there are the very long sessions in the office doing weekly paperwork, writing lesson plans (not to mention inventing curriculum) and the times at or en route to home when I get the impression that there is NOTHING dust-free in Beijing. And by the way, there are NO women in my office, unless we count three twenty-something part-time Mandarin teachers who I’m going to be teaching conversational English to beginning next week. Also, of course, I miss my kids & grandbabies incredibly. I am honestly not sure how people do this for years & years at a time. If you ask me, I will say that I am certain this is where we belong—there were too many “coincidences” that led us here for me to think otherwise. And when I see a sentence in the homework that says “We loving the teach very much”, it doesn’t hurt. When the kid who doesn’t really care if he stays or goes lights up for AJ’s tutoring sessions, that’s pretty awesome, too. I've heard a cheesy preacher saying that rings true at times like these...the will of God won't take you where the grace of God can't keep you. I am finding this to be quite true.
I heard a rumor today that the school closes over Christmas for a week or so. Not sure how the guy came to this conclusion, seeing how we've only been open since March, but…wouldn’t that be amazing, to be able to come home instead of wallowing in limbo between Narnia and Nirvana? One can only hope. And by the way, yesterday we finally found ground coffee—AJ had bought me a VERY expensive, VERY tiny coffee maker, only to discover that the stores that sell the pots don’t really understand about the coffee….Starbucks carried some for around $50 a pound…not happening…then, finally, there was a small brick of French coffee at a market where they have some imported goods. It tasted AMAZING this morning. Now all I need are some authentic Italian herbs…basil oregano, parsley, maybe some Parmesan cheese…and I will be in business. Italian night, here we come!
Whatever happens, I’ll let you know how the concert goes…or how the pastor’s barbecue tastes. Eva will have to wait for another time. Don’t you wish every day was the Fourth of July?
The Great Wall...is broken
This was the first of my email messages, sent June 13th. I thought I'd copy them in here to get all of the updates under one virtual roof, so to speak.
Enjoy!
We had the amazing experience of hiking the Great Wall of China today--I was wondering what that item on our field trip schedule meant...sort of thought Jason, who arranges all of these things for our group, was exaggerating by using "hiking".
It was definitely NOT an overstatement! We began the day pretty much like every day--driving very slowly through incredible traffic--but this time the bus left the city proper & went to a fairly remote area, not "touristy" at all, where we were served the most delicious grilled, seasoned fish (maybe trout?), cold chopped greens with spices, Tempura-style fried leaves, lamb, potato/tomato/ eggplant salad, Egg foo young-ish things, real Coke, and a surprise birthday cake for Gui Hua, the kids' mentor, all for LUNCH before the hike. We were the only people there, and while our hosts prepared the food we played ping-pong, pool, and badminton with the students--outdoors! It was a great time.
After lunch we went straight UP the side of the wall, on a path that said "closed to the public" but that Jason had hiked before & said was fine. Well....it was definitely the toughest workout I've had in a while, and there were times I wasn't so sure I'd make it! But we got to the top & took a bunch of photos to prove it. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, an amazing combination of man-made and natural.
One thing about my students that was totally impressive--not only do they treat us with incredible respect (Peter, who sat between AJ & me at lunch, made sure to pour us Coke before he had any), but they also really care for each other. They have only been together as a group since March--I think a couple are from the same orphanage, but generally they are a new group--but they really act like brothers & sisters most of the time. I think it's good that there are only eight of them for this first year. One of the guys, Tom, has a mild case of CP and has some difficulty walking. Well, we weren't so sure how he was going to do when we saw that trail--but the other guys helped him get to the top. The trip down was even more hazardous, what with the slope and the rubble, so rather than risk Tom getting hurt, Peter and David took turns carrying him the entire way. I was amazed.
Then after the hike (and the three-hour trip covering thirty miles back to the center of the city--no joke--) the students had their first American dinner at Paul's Steak & Eggs American Diner. What a menu! Most of them had huge burgers& fries or spaghetti --one had chicken parm, and one stayed safe with rice & veggies. It was pretty funny--they were giving us chopstick lessons at lunch & we gave them fork & knife lessons at dinner. Paul, the diner's owner, knew their story and gave all eight of the youth their dinners for free. It was a rather surreal experience but my Reuben & fries--and A & W root beer float--were amazing.
Afterward we walked around the Forbidden City & Tienanmen Square grounds for a while--even at night it is really impressive. AJ & I plan to got here on our own maybe next weekend, when we are brave enough to try the subway and have no work commitments.
Anyway enough for now-
Ayden and Angelina, Grammy & Papa miss you very much. Ayden--Bear said he loved the "big brick wall" and he wanted me to send you his picture there & at the cool place called Tienanmen Square we visited after dinner. Angelina, tomorrow after church we are going to visit the silk market and look for a special birthday present for you!
Oh, by the way, one of the girls provided the title for my message--when we were almost to the top of the first tower, she said(in excellent English): " Doctor Melody--the wall is broken. It's not great--it is a bad wall." Funny stuff--but the same girl asked me, on the way up, if I believe in God and in "Jesu" his son. As I said before--I am very impressed with these students. Their contrasts sort of remind me of the country in general.
Love to all, and I hope to write once a week or so--I am much busier than AJ with classes and training and curriculum development, but I have to say I am really enjoying all of it. Life is good. Check out the website at www.abridgeforchildren.org if you want to meet our kids! Sadly, we can't access it here--but I hope you can see how amazing they are.
Enjoy!
We had the amazing experience of hiking the Great Wall of China today--I was wondering what that item on our field trip schedule meant...sort of thought Jason, who arranges all of these things for our group, was exaggerating by using "hiking".
It was definitely NOT an overstatement! We began the day pretty much like every day--driving very slowly through incredible traffic--but this time the bus left the city proper & went to a fairly remote area, not "touristy" at all, where we were served the most delicious grilled, seasoned fish (maybe trout?), cold chopped greens with spices, Tempura-style fried leaves, lamb, potato/tomato/ eggplant salad, Egg foo young-ish things, real Coke, and a surprise birthday cake for Gui Hua, the kids' mentor, all for LUNCH before the hike. We were the only people there, and while our hosts prepared the food we played ping-pong, pool, and badminton with the students--outdoors! It was a great time.
After lunch we went straight UP the side of the wall, on a path that said "closed to the public" but that Jason had hiked before & said was fine. Well....it was definitely the toughest workout I've had in a while, and there were times I wasn't so sure I'd make it! But we got to the top & took a bunch of photos to prove it. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, an amazing combination of man-made and natural.
One thing about my students that was totally impressive--not only do they treat us with incredible respect (Peter, who sat between AJ & me at lunch, made sure to pour us Coke before he had any), but they also really care for each other. They have only been together as a group since March--I think a couple are from the same orphanage, but generally they are a new group--but they really act like brothers & sisters most of the time. I think it's good that there are only eight of them for this first year. One of the guys, Tom, has a mild case of CP and has some difficulty walking. Well, we weren't so sure how he was going to do when we saw that trail--but the other guys helped him get to the top. The trip down was even more hazardous, what with the slope and the rubble, so rather than risk Tom getting hurt, Peter and David took turns carrying him the entire way. I was amazed.
Then after the hike (and the three-hour trip covering thirty miles back to the center of the city--no joke--) the students had their first American dinner at Paul's Steak & Eggs American Diner. What a menu! Most of them had huge burgers& fries or spaghetti --one had chicken parm, and one stayed safe with rice & veggies. It was pretty funny--they were giving us chopstick lessons at lunch & we gave them fork & knife lessons at dinner. Paul, the diner's owner, knew their story and gave all eight of the youth their dinners for free. It was a rather surreal experience but my Reuben & fries--and A & W root beer float--were amazing.
Afterward we walked around the Forbidden City & Tienanmen Square grounds for a while--even at night it is really impressive. AJ & I plan to got here on our own maybe next weekend, when we are brave enough to try the subway and have no work commitments.
Anyway enough for now-
Ayden and Angelina, Grammy & Papa miss you very much. Ayden--Bear said he loved the "big brick wall" and he wanted me to send you his picture there & at the cool place called Tienanmen Square we visited after dinner. Angelina, tomorrow after church we are going to visit the silk market and look for a special birthday present for you!
Oh, by the way, one of the girls provided the title for my message--when we were almost to the top of the first tower, she said(in excellent English): " Doctor Melody--the wall is broken. It's not great--it is a bad wall." Funny stuff--but the same girl asked me, on the way up, if I believe in God and in "Jesu" his son. As I said before--I am very impressed with these students. Their contrasts sort of remind me of the country in general.
Love to all, and I hope to write once a week or so--I am much busier than AJ with classes and training and curriculum development, but I have to say I am really enjoying all of it. Life is good. Check out the website at www.abridgeforchildren.org if you want to meet our kids! Sadly, we can't access it here--but I hope you can see how amazing they are.
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