my lowly view--China in 2008

The news coming out of the US during the past year seemed dominated by reports of gas prices, presidential politics and financial turmoil. I know there is so much that I probably didn't catch, but at some point along the way I had to accept I couldn't keep struggling to remain connected to the US through every headline or pop culture news item.

And I had enough to keep up with over here. There are years in people's lives that will always stand out in their own personal histories. I think all Americans will pause on the year 2001 when they are retelling the story of their lives, and share where they were and what their life was like then. Now, in the final days of December, I am sure that 2008 will be that year for most Chinese--certainly from what I've seen in the lives of my students and friends.

To recap--this has been the progression of the past year from over here (dates are based on my unofficial memory):

Jan/Feb--The worst winter in 50 years shuts down much of the country. Thousands are stranded in train stations during China's largest holiday of the year (and in a country where the major forms of transportation are train and bus and large migrant populations only get one time a year to go home and see their families--this is more significant than what you'd imagine in the US). (I was in SE Asia and decided to stay on the beach until the trains were running again!)

Feb/Mar--a situation of unrest occurs in a Western province (I must answer the question "Why does the American media, like CNN and NY Times, lie?")

Mar/Apr--The international reaction to that situation affects the Olympic torch relay and spurs rising frustration/nationalism among the Chinese people. (I learn to say "I am not French.")

Apr/May--a tragic train crash kills/injures hundreds near Qingdao (my travel plans are changed when my train to Qingdao is canceled)

May--The Sichuan earthquake brings devastation and sadness to everyone here in China

May/June--The responses of support/relief in China is overwhelming and bonds many together

July--Mass flooding in the South of China

Aug--the 2008 Olympics have a successful run in Beijing. China wins the overall gold medal count to the pride of the Chinese people. (Every question asked to a foreigner for the next two months begins with "Did you see the Olympics?")

Sept/Oct/Nov--The tainted/poison milk scandal affects nearly everyone--To a nation with a one child policy, contaminating baby formula for cheap gains is a low blow. (Fear hits me personally only when I learn it's reached the chocolate makers!)

Oct/Nov/Dec--Worldwide financial crisis hits Chinese investments/factories/lives (Maybe I'll stay abroad until I have good credit again--see ya in 7 years!)

I don't know if I can convey to you how personal these stories are to my students--even if these events didn't cause any actual changes in their personal lives. Sure, in America, we get annoyed when other countries pronounce their opinion of America's action, and sure, we have plenty of Olympic spirit every 2 years, and sure, we're all worried about finances too---but I don't think I've seen the level of personal/emotional devotion to patriotism the way that it exists over here. It is personal. A critique of China is taken as a critique of each of them, individually. It's been interesting to observe.

The earthquake hit everyone hard--as all natural disasters do. It was heartbreaking. In the days following, I began our classroom discussion by just asking how everyone was doing, how they were holding up. The air had that hush that occurs after great tragedies--we remember that quiet in America the week after 9/11 and Katrina. Nobody feels like they can or should laugh aloud. I never knew what to say so I turned to Mister Rogers for his words--and somehow that story helped us to cry a little together over the sadness of it all. We did what Mister Rogers told us to do--and we talked about the helpers. The post-80's generation came together in response to this earthquake--with hundreds and thousands of young people appearing in Wenchuan for cleanup and repair and countless students donating so much blood and money that they quit taking it. This is a generation once accused of laziness and selfishness--but they are now applauded for their response.

And after those low lows came the highs of the Olympics and the national pride that came with it. Beijing put on quite a show and the thrill is something my students still talk about. Many laugh that watching the Opening Ceremonies was better than all their Spring Festivals combined--and that that night was the first time they stayed awake that late. Though they are all 18-20 years old, they remind me of when I was 12 watching our female gymnasts in Atlanta. It's just fun.

And now we're all watching the financial crisis on all sides of all oceans. Sorry China, this one is our fault (errr....as in....the Americans'). I don't know if my students have parents who are affected--but it's something to watch. We're all in this one together.

I'm amazed to think that I have been here in China for most of this roller coaster historic year. It all hit home to me during one of the Christmas parties with my students. A student told me, "This has been a very colorful and big year in China--and you were our only foreigner we knew during the year. I think we will remember that."

There have been difficult questions in the past year. What is the difference between nationalism and patriotism? Who should be blamed after natural disasters initiate mass damage? What is the proper response as a citizen to corruption? How can we keep cultures unique and special and still accept globalization? The list goes on and on...

Some of these questions were mine and some were my students. It's been quite a year. It's too early for me to blog about how this year has changed me or changed China (as if I'd really know) or changed anything... for now I am just recapping for blog posterity the year of 2008. From here...in China. See you next year.

This year's Christmas

Most of the dishes are washed now and the mess of torn wrapping paper, while not completely cleaned away, has at least been gathered from the ocean on the floor into plastic bags or piles around the living room. The tree is still up but the lights will stay off now--soon to be packed into an old cardboard box and left in the corner of my spare room. My second Chinese Christmas has come and gone.

All in all--I'm really proud of the holiday that we worked together to share and make special. It was a really lovely day. Katera and I invited some of our good American friends to spend the night with us, so on Christmas Eve, Julie and Katie and David came up (Julie is in her 2nd year here too and Katie and David are married). David made wassail, Katera provided brownies (which are a delicacy over here), Julie brought fudge (a delicacy anywhere) and we all drank warm drinks and watched Fred Claus and Merry Christmas Charlie Brown in our pj's. A little after midnight we paused for a candlelit service to think about Christmas, sing the more meaningful carols and share the Supper. It was all filled with joy and peace.

On Christmas morning, I was up early to make cinnamon rolls and latkes while Julie and Katera scrambled eggs in her kitchen. We drank leftover wassail or coffee and had a hearty breakfast and opened presents together (each person brought one generic wrapped present--all gifts that someone would want) and even had stockings complete with oranges in the toes! After hanging out for a while, everyone dispersed to their own apartments for naps or more Christmas fun.

This being China, there were of course a few potential calamities to be dealt with. Our water was turned off on campus the two days before Christmas--so washing our few pots and pans for reuse was a bit difficult, and it was annoying to ask guests to manually flush the toliets using a bucket of water! I killed the yeast in my cinnamon rolls by using hot water instead of warm water to mix the dough (all of you in America need to pause right now with a prayer of thanks for Pilsbury and canned cinnamon rolls) and my electric eye kept turning off while I was frying my latkes so the oil wouldn't stay hot enough to quickly cook them.

Despite such trials, it was a beautiful day. The dishes were washed with my bottled water jug, the toliet stayed flushed, the cinnamon rolls were just a little heavy and chewy instead of light and fluffy but still just as sweet, and the latkes managed to not get tooo soggy and tasted pretty good. We had fun opening presents and I think we were all able to savour our moments together instead of spending too much time thinking of where we weren't for the day.

*******

As I've been tidying up from a long week of Christmas parties, I keep looking at the nativity scene I painted really quickly. I told the story 8 times during the past week--and my thoughts keep lingering on Matthew's account...the wise men, specifically. Two thousand years ago, scholars from the east began a journey to find....well, something. From the east. Two thousand years ago, these men were searching for wisdom or purpose or some type of key to life and were not able to find fulfillment in any of their own culture's answers. In the east. So they gave up looking among their society and turned upward to the stars. Among those stars, they found a light to lead them to a strange land and to a newborn type of king for a newborn type of kingdom.

So here, in my Christmas in this land in the Far East, I think about that star, and those men--so empty and hungry in their own land that they would risk everything to travel long miles following a star. I think about how the answer the star brought those men to changed the world forever. And now, two thousand years later, our hope is that the wise people in the lands in the east don't have to travel far from home to find the answer of that star. Our hope is that they will find stars right here, at ground level, in the midst of life here. It is a heady thing to claim to be a star, but it is what is required of each of us. As we think about that Christmas star leading people to an answer, we must never forget that we too are called to shine like stars in the universe as we hold out....well, you know the rest....whether to those in lands to the east or lands to the west. Merry Christmas.

Gifts from my students

I'm told these are muscle beaters that you use to message your muscles.

So many cute cards

This is a stuffed dog basket...

Moments

Class

Occasionally a class invites us for a night out with them. These evenings are usually a lot of fun but a wee bit taxing; consisting of a big banquet dinner with scary entrees of fish heads and pigs feet and then usually followed by forced performances at a nearby KTV--the karaoke bars found on nearly every corner in Wuhan. All sorts of hilarity ensue--but unfortunately it is usually caused by breakdowns in communication which, though they make for good stories, can get old after a while.

I was expecting one of these nights when one of my Masters classes invited me to meet them in the classroom last Sunday night. I've really enjoyed working with these students because they are not far from me in age and we can share cultures as peers together. Approaching the classroom, I was greeted by Winfred, who I always think reminds me of the owl in Winnie the Pooh, who greeted me and ran ahead into the classroom, shutting the door behind him. Hmmmm.

When I got to the door, it swung open from the inside as Elton John's Step Into Christmas began to blast from the speakers. Stunned, I walked forward into a room filled with balloons, Christmas lights, a fully decorated Christmas tree, and gift bags of oranges, candy and chocolate. A powerpoint slideshow was showing glowing photos of Christmas lights and snow covered houses. Before I knew it, a Santa hat was on my head and I was ushered to the seat of honor.

The next hour was a complete Christmas program. A host of ceremonies introduced student acts, and they performed skits of a family shopping for presents, of a Christmas morning looking for Santa's gifts, and of an 'election' with Santa campaigning for president! Carols were sung, gifts were shared, games were played, and I was blown away.

The most wonderful thing about all this is knowing that my students got together, recognized that I would be 'missing' the most important holiday of my culture, and decided to create a Christmas for me here. The kindness of this is overwhelming. I'm really blessed.


Dinner

Another tradition is our annual Christmas dinner with the English department. The Dean of the department takes the foreign teachers out for a banquet style dinner. We are joined by our coteachers (each of us has a Chinese teacher from the English department who serves as a liason for us--letting us know about our schedules, meetings, requirements etc...) and any others from the department who are invited. Again, these types of gatherings are fun but can be exhausting. The banquet culture involves lots of 'toasting' and it's always a little overwhelming for me.

This year, it was an incredible relief to have a like-minded/kindred spirit friend there, Katera, to exchange shocked glances and kick each other under the table when we needed to say "did he REALLY just say that?" or "I CAN NOT believe this is happening right now." It made the evening 5 times more fun.

But nothing, nothing, NOTHING in my experiences of Chinese banquet dinners will ever top what happened towards the end of the meal. As usual, our hosts and coteachers began insisting on "performances," which is...well...it would take another post to describe...we'll leave as this: when meeting with any group of people over here, it is usual and even expected that you will be forced to play monkey with a song, poem, dance...something. It's usually a song.

Anway, the performances were demanded and we all took our awkward turns at singing a Christmas carol or whatever. Katera pulled out a song from her time in Africa, I sang my version of my ringtone (which is a popular Chinese pop song--in Chinese--so I only put phonetic sounds to the tune), and Jesse sang a carol. Somehow, the singing kept going, and the evening evolved into a singalong with everyone at the table--including songs from John Denver (a usual choice. Country Roads is taught to all high schoolers here), and THE BEATLES--seriously, we sang Hey Jude, Yesterday, Yellow Submarine and many many more.

It was just one of those times when you must stop, look around, and say to yourself, "I am sitting at a banquet table...in China...at Christmas....with the whole room, Chinese and Americans, singing Beatles songs." Seriously, this is quite a life we lead.

Street

This has less to do with Christmas, but it was lovely. Walking to class a few days ago, I noticed a couple in the distance walking towards me. They were walking close side by side, hands in pockets, eyes focused straight ahead or on the ground. Their faces were locked in grim distraction--her lips were pursed together in a tight angry line and he had the defeated look of a guy who knows he's not gonna win, and is a little annoyed about it.

As they walked briskly, something in her thoughts made her roll her eyes as she ever so slightly shook her head to herself. The tightly closed lips relaxed a little. Still without looking at him or changing her brisk pace, she raised one eyebrow and made a short comment. I didn't hear and wouldn't have understood it anyway--but I'm pretty sure that it was ironic. There was the tiniest bemused smile in the corner of her mouth--the side that faced away from him...

The silence fell back over them as they continued their walk--but his face and countanance were amazing to watch. The subtle transformation of a guy stuck in the doghouse into a guy whose been let off the hook. He never lifted his eyes from the ground a few yards ahead of him, but his shoulders and neck got straighter and higher. And his face melted into peace. It did. It melted into peace. All those muscles of anger and tightness dissolved as his smile began to spread. He didn't look at her or do anything to let her know that he was smiling, they just kept walking in silence...but it was a moment. Grace had just passed between the two of them. They were going to be ok.

Telling the story

Christmas is an odd thing here in Wuhan. It's not really celebrated, but it is marketed. The shopping areas and hotels fill their lobbies with Christmas decorations--but Christmas is really viewed as a great shopping day over here--there are huge sales in most of the stores. Chinese children don't grow up waiting for Santa Claus and the origin of the name of this holiday isn't known to most.

For this reason--it's so much fun to share the Story of Christmas with our students. It's important for them to be aware of this Western understanding of the holiday, so we incorporate the lesson into our courses. This year, I invited ALLLLL of my classes to come up to my apartment for Christmas parties. This means that on 7 different occasions, my apartment has been crammed with 25 students hearing the Christmas story and making Christmas cards and advent calendars! I'll post pictures once we are finished with all the parties...for now I thought I'd show some of my tools to help teach the lesson!

my tree!!

I painted this really quickly one morning before the first party to help explain our new vocabulary word, 'nativity.'




Please Lift me Up that I'll have enough energy to finish out the week before Christmas and that my words will plant seeds in my students' lives! Love to you all!

Morning Commute

The winter mornings in Wuhan are misty, when the bamboo forest and the arched bridge over the pond look less like cultural landscape marketing and more like authentic and ethereal scenes taken straight from an ancient brush painting. The first turn from my building runs along the gate of the preschool and kindergarten. In the minutes before 8 o'clock, the path is a maze of motos, bikes, occasional sedans and bundled tots following parents laden with bed rolls and backpacks. The kids are bleary eyed and flushed underneath their layers and layers of stuffing as they're hurried through the pink castle painted entrance. In the afternoons they will point or stare at my passing, the bold ones practicing their "hallo"s, but it's too early to look up or notice others in a world full of not-my-mom/dad's when all they want is to keep clinging to mom or dad. In just a few hours they will be dancing in unison to the duckie song, laughing and singing--and if I don't have a morning class I will wake to the sounds of their play--but it is 7:40 and now I am just another pair of pants and shoes to shuffle past as they give their sleepy farewells.

The next turn is to the main stretch that serves as the entrance artery within the school gates. The tiled sidewalk is lined with palm trees on one side and white-barked maple trees on the other, their brassy leaves still clinging to the naked white branches or cruntching under our feet. I dodge the bound-twig brooms of the street workers who seem to make a game of raking at my heels as I pass. The nauseous odors of breakfast foods drift through windows and I realize that even after 3 semesters of life here--there are some smells I will never quite acclimate to.

I'll learn how late I am as I approach the pond. If I am early or right on time, the old ladies will still be in the midst of tai-chi exercises with lengths of gold ribbon or red fans to accent the fluidity of their movements. If I'm late, they'll be squatting on their haunches to rest or will already have moved on with the day.

The main square is next--large open concrete resembling Tiananmen for a distance that I can't estimate--but it takes a good 10 minutes to walk from top to bottom, running almost the length of the whole campus. Here is where I noice how utterly silent the walk has been. It wasn't this way until winter hit--the cold has closed us all off into our own thoughts. But on the square, each morning without fail, students find spots to themselves and read aloud from lesson books, broken and halting English, often monotone, always with focused intensity, being spoken every 3 to 4 yards. The Ministry of Education recommended morning readings for all college students, so they receive a passage book in their classes and take to the streets/squares in the hour after the mandated morning exercises. And so for three paces you'll hear a history of an ancient Viking landing, and then it will be the proper etiquette for tea or brunch, and then a few yards away an intent young man with glasses is repeating "mechanic" as "ma-chan-ac, maCHANac, mmmmACHANac, mACANac, mAYCHANac," until he switches to "en-jeen, anjeen, jjjjj, jeen, enjeen," and in a few yards further it's vaguely recognizable Shakespeare.

One more turn to the teaching building and 150 steps to the 6th floor language labs. The clock in the lobby is 5 minutes slow, which is encouraging when I'm running behind. I live on the 5th floor and teach on the 6th and climb up an average of 380 steps a day (on good days with few errands/outings) but I still huff and puff by the final ascent. The stairwell is filled with former and current students, and though I usually recognize their faces, I am never quite sure if it was yesterday or a year ago that I saw them in my class. I'm always terrified of crossing paths with a current student and completely blanking on recognition. In a classroom setting I can remember most of their English names, but it's hopeless outside in the wide world. My labs are at the end of the hall, cold and white and uniform.

At 8, class begins.

A good ol' RANDOM post

1. My shoelaces have started to get untied on a daily basis. I haven't changed anything about how I tie my shoes--the laces are still strong and clean--there's no explanation. So, at least once I day, I feel like I'm 5 again.

2. The cold has settled into our apartments. My bedroom stays warm enough--but it gets to the point where we don't want to change clothes. It just feels too cold to get undressed even for a second--so we do the locker room thing where you change clothing without revealing any skin. It's not about modesty--it's about warmth.

3. I'm obsessed with cooking soups these days. I've made creamy potato and carrot soup, savory southwestern pumpkin soup and an impromptu one-serving tomato soup in the past few weeks. My online recipe file is getting filled with more soups to try!

4. India is postponed. Over here in China, our winter break is centered around the Chinese New Year/Spring Festival. We'll be in class straight through Christmas, but get about 4 weeks of a break in mid January to mid February. I had been planning on backpacking through India for a month--stopping in Calcutta for a week or so of service, working in the footsteps of Mother Theresa, checking out the Taj Mahal in Agra, getting a hut on the beach in Goa etc.... but the recent attacks have postponed that. Katera and I racked our brains to come up with some excuse that would make it seem less irresponsible for us to go in light of the new instability--and there was just no way to make it work. We're keeping our hopes up that we can go at the beginning of the summer--which could be even more awesome b/c we could backpack our way through Tibet, cross into Nepal, then make our way into India before flying back to America for our summer break. Our fingers are crossed and our eyes are on the news. Which brings us to:

5. SE Asia is coming!!!! After many hours staring at the globe and mourning our India setback (which--by the way--we are actually saddened by on a level other than the selfish one mentioned here--but that would require another post and sincere writing to express), we decided to head back to SE Asia and spend a month backpacking around there! Megan, Katera and I will join forces this time and we're hitting the countries that Megan and I didn't make it to last year (we both traveled through SE Asia on different trips). So we're starting with a cheap flight into Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and will travel into Singapore, through Malaysia, southern Thailand, and Laos and then hit the southern Chinese province of Yunnan. I'm extremely excited about it--I have two great traveling companions, the trip is dirt cheap (our budget for a month is somewhere around US$800 total), the weather will be warm, the food delicious, and I feel really comfortable getting around SE Asia after doing it last year.

6. I can't stop listening to The Cars these days.

7. I finally made it to the library!!!! Last year--in one of those wonderful moments of discovery mentioned before--I wandered through my university's library till I was delighted to find a section of English lit! I pressed the school this year to allow me a library card and after some warnings, we all received them. The selection is primarily literature classics--which works for me because I'm trying to take this time before grad school to catch up on many of the great works of literature as well as acclaimed works of recent fiction that I missed in my primary-undergrad education. Katera and I have both been in voracious reading moods--so it's been fun. This semester I've read (off the top of my head):

-The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
-Lady Chatterley's Lover by DH Lawrence
-Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
-Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
-Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

and currently I've opened the Divine Comedy by Dante--but I can only find Inferno and Paradiso, so I might not make it very far into it! It's a shame, because the passages I've read from Purgatory looked the most interesting. Maybe I'll find it at a bookstore somewhere though! I just feel sooo thrilled that I have access to the library now! I can only get 5 books at a time--so I'm looking forward to finishing this round and heading back for more.

8. I've got my fake Christmas tree out and will decorate it and the house this week!!! It makes me miss home so much--but even that doesn't diminish the joy of Christmas season!!! love to you all!!!

The ORIGINAL Soulja Boy ballet!--this makes me laugh

I can't help it--I had to share this!! Their energy is sooo infectious! It makes me want to go work out or something. My favorite moment is second 39-40. This kid is hilarious!!!!

Thanksgiving in China

Our Thanksgiving Feast: Yultuz, Katera, Kunduz, Peach and Jesse (from left to right).

My homemade pumpkin soup

Katera's delicious stuffing, some bread and the Christmas-colored salad

Peach getting some drinks...

Jesse showcasing his specialty

Happy happy Kunduz cutting the cake for dessert

Yultuz and Kunduz as we gathered round the phone (laptop) to call Fawn in America...

Our beautiful flowers from Peach!

Last year, I ran away from Thanksgiving--traveling with Fawn to Yangshuo, one of my favorite places in China. It was wonderful on so many levels: the scenery was breathtaking, the company was fun and hilarious, the weather was warm and sunny, and the activities were refreshing. It was one of the best trips I've had in China. And it helped distract me from the family-formed festival that was happening in my mother's home. It helped me to ignore the fact that my brother was home and that I wasn't. 

This year I decided to bite the bullet and stay in town--and try to make a special Thanksgiving here in my China home. I invited over a few of my favorite Chinese friends and my neighbors and Katera and I cooked a feast--which turned out to be vegetarian, but wonderful. (I don't like to cook meat in my teeny tiny kitchen and I don't really like turkey anyway) Between the two of us we prepared savory pumpkin soup, stovetop stuffing, broccoli and cheese casserole, spinach salad with a homemade lemon-pepper vinaigrette, cranberry sauce and a loaf of homemade bread. Jesse shared with us his homemade hot chocolate mix from America, Yultuz and Kunduz brought a cake and Peach brought beautiful flowers! 

It was a really lovely evening with our "family." The word takes on so many meanings when you've been away from your actual family for the holidays. We laughed and laughed when we were telling our Chinese friends about the 1-800-Butterball hotline--so much so that we actually tried to call it, but couldn't get through to a real person. We told stories of funny or awkward holidays passed and we all were thankful for the fact that sometimes holidays away from family can have their own special moments and joys. I had been dreading it a little--but it was ok. 

I was sick for the rest of the weekend (true to holiday form--from childhood on I've always managed to fall sick for thanksgiving or Christmas or both), so I didn't get to go to the grand Thanksgiving party on Saturday that is held annually among the foreigners in Wuhan. Our extended team here rents a party room and buys up a bunch of turkeys from the import store (there's only one place in town to find turkeys for sale--in fact, many of our friends in smaller towns travel to Wuhan--sometimes 5-8 hours one way--to pick up a turkey for their own thanksgiving celebrations if they don't come to ours), and many of our very extended network from out of town come in for the weekend. It's like a huge potluck and is supposed to be great. Last year I didn't mind missing it for travel--but this year I was stuck in bed with an upset stomach--so that was a bummer. I hear that it was great though.

And now it's time for the Christmas season--and I'm so excited to share it with my students and friends again. This week I will pull out all the Christmas decorations that I managed to find last year and maybe will go hunting for some more and begin to fill my apartment with festive cheer. I can't wait!

Discovery!

One of my favorite aspects of my life:

It happens in two ways. 

1. You come across something, anything, while riding the bus or turning a corner or taking a different aisle through the supermarket. Sometimes it's a store that you've passed a dozen times that suddenly catches your eye and comes into focus. Sometimes it's when you are looking for an item and find something else instead. Sometimes you just get a feeling that you should keep wandering down that street...just a little bit further...and see what's there... And boom!, it happens.

2. You put something together--in the 2+2=everything kind of way. Meanings lodge themselves into the foreground of your thought that you can't quite shake until you realize that they explain so much, all at once, a new color or shade of comprehension of all of China becomes yours. 

It's exulting and triumphant when it happens. We have so few victories of understanding as foreigners in a complex and constantly changing land, we are always so constantly behind the curve, so dependent on our gracious Chinese hosts for their acquiescence to our bumbling attempts at assimilation. So whether it's by luck or by Grace or by the sheer tenacious flexing of our own brain muscles, it all adds up to moments of discovery that we experience here, day by day, over and over again.

We're like children learning to walk, or add, or read, or drive an automatic all at the same time. We figure out the basic bus routes and the skeletal layout of our sprawling city, we memorize the fundamental Mandarin phrases necessary for survival, we learn where to buy Coke, vegetables, condiments, soap, wine, chocolate and junk food...and at first, we just get around. At first, it's all we can do to make it to a friends house and back without 5 cell conversations reconfirming the directions. At first, it is a victory just to choose bus over taxi. But then, the pioneering joy of foreign living begins. 

Last year, I found a store that sells jelly beans and gummy bears. I found which supermarket and which aisle to go to for liquid drain cleaner. There is a store along my bus route that has really great camping and outdoor gear. I discovered how to tell sugar packaging from salt packaging if you can't see inside the bag. 

Within months or weeks of moving here last year, I knew that dadao must mean 'highway' or 'street' or 'avenue,' because on street signs it was one of the common words. So...sure, I learned that. Separately, I learned to order my cokes "da da," or "big big" from McDonald's or KFC or describe things as "tai da da" or "too big." And also separately, I learned that Taoism is known as Daoism in China, with the Dao being "the way." It was only last week, 1.25 years into living in China, that I figured out that dadao means "big way." It makes complete sense--and putting it together, with my own brain doing the work, the figuring, the discovery, made me really excited and really proud and really in love with life. 

In a another scenario, I began the process of shopping for a couch last week. I'm not looking for anything fancy or special, just a two-seater that is more comfortable than the shellacked   wooden chairs that currently occupy the living room. I began the search in the area of town called Furniture City--complete with all sorts of housewares stores. When I realized that all of the stores nearby were out of my price range, I walked towards a bus stop. From a distance, I noticed that a side street had smaller shops with lamps and vases--so I turned down the alley. 

Wandering a little farther, on the right there was a nearly deserted alley lined with art studios and antique shops. Ancient looking Chinese wood carvings and ornate decorative wood planks filled shop after shop, covered in dust and unaffordable but fabulous. The street was as silent as China gets, until out of the back of one stall, the achy mellow strains of an accordion filled the air. Like the antique wooden panels and dusty books and rusted, brassy coins filling the shops, everything felt incredibly abandoned in this tiny pocket of Wuhan. Wrinkled old men with fingers stained black looked up from 7 ft yellow scrolls that they were filling with oversized calligraphy characters as I walked by. Bored looking men in their dingy undershirts and striped pants sat around a mahjong table in one corner. Decayed and tattered red lanterns hung askew from awnings. It smelled like ink and turpentine and mold. 

And here I was. China. A tiny corner street that I happened upon by chance--there sat the antique district of Wuhan. It was so unforeseen and beautiful and completely Chinese that I had to stop and stand still there on the street--inviting even more curiosity and attention than I already had--but I had to stop there, because this was a moment. I had found something new and this was a moment in my life that very few people will ever understand. It was a discovery.

 

I write this post longer than it should be, because I fear that there is absolutely no way to really describe the little, minute, incredible acts of discovery that brighten our days here. If I were in the US reading this, I would probably think, "So what? It's liquid drain cleaner, of course it's at the supermarket. Big Way? Duh. It's a highway--of course the word would mean that." 

But what so many don't understand is that it's not like I can read the items that are at the supermarket. It's all a bunch of bottles with Chinese characters--and the idea of using chemicals to clear a clogged drain still doesn't occur to alot of people here. When my drain clogged last year, I called 5 different people to ask if they could help me find a bottle. Every single one of them said I would just have to call a worker to come and repair my sink. It took a search to come across a bottle with a picture of a clogged pipe and a muscular arm punching through the clog on it. Even then, when I showed the bottle to my school liaison, who was waiting to call the 'plumber,' she said she had never seen it before. Unclogging a sink became a quest!

There are some things that we learn because others teach us, either our Chinese friends or those who were here before. They tell us where we can find most things, and what certain phrases mean, and they teach us so much. But another whole element of life here must be discovered in order to exist for us. Last year, liquid plumber did not exist for me, until it did. Gummy bears were not in my world, until they were. The word dadao had no significance, until it did. And there were no side alleys filled with fascinating antiques and calligraphy shops perfumed with ink and turpentine, until there were. 

These things appear into our lives, and the moment that we discover them...well, it's just a rush, a joy and an experience that I can't imagine living without.

Cleverest Housewife

My flour--hence, the title of today's post! I can't think of any better way to advertise your brand of flour actually. If only I could be a clever housewife someday!!! ;)

The wait begins

My first bubble appears!!!!

The dough rises.

My finished product!

After baking the bread, I got allll biblical and wanted to have a meal to match it: so I made lentil soup (a la Jacob and Esau) and a warm potato salad (which isn't from the Book--but tastes good!). Katera, Jesse and Michael came over and we all feasted OT/NT style!

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And so it came upon me one day that I wanted to be a baker of bread. I don't know how or where the whole idea began--it was inspired--Creationist--something: out of nothing. Baking Bread.

There's just something so romantic about the idea of it all. Perhaps this talk of the looming and morbid economic downturn that has befallen America has me thinking of those sepia toned portraits of the Depression--wrinkled old women in a kitchen of orange formica and linoleum with flour dusting their checked aprons. 

Or maybe it's because real bread is so difficult to come by here in China. There seem to be two options at the bakery on my market street: 1) over-processed sweet breads or 2) bread with particles of ground pork mixed into the dough. Neither are very appealing (to me). There's a French boulangerie across the Yangtze--but it takes 2 hours and 3 modes of transportation to get there and I'm usually just not up for it.

When I was a child we lived for a brief time on a hill overlooking a Kern's Bread Factory. There was a florescent sign out front of a loaf of bread with the final piece falling away from it: first at a 5 degree angle, then 25, then 50, then 90. In the mornings, the air smelled like yeast. We'd sit on our grassy hill and watch the 18 wheelers roll in and out of the place with Kern's logo on the sides. Now, the factory is gone and a strip mall is in it's place--the strip is called something like "ol factory square" or something that makes me, at the age of 24, one of the "ol-timers" who remembers the town before "commercialism" hit. 

So I decided, for whatever reason, to be a bread baker. It's not like other actions in the world that are just mundane extensions of our daily journey: when you go buy groceries, you don't become a "buyer of groceries" in the same way that you become a "baker of bread" when you undertake that task. It seems that baking bread is a holy thing--a thing that connects you to all other bakers of bread that have gone before--a thing that is a moment in life that is pure and essential, elemental.

I think I've been reading too much during the past few days.

Anyway--so I set out to bake this bread. A friend had an extra jar of yeast that she shared when she found that I was asking around about it. I found a recipe on the NYT that seemed simple enough (because, of course, when you want to learn how to bake bread--you turn to the New York Times??).  This recipe is contingent on allowing the yeast to do all the work: you must let the dough sit and ferment/rise for 18 hours after the initial mixing of ingredients.

The waiting was the best part for me. According to the recipe, when the dough was ready it would have little bubbles all over the surface. After I mixed everything--I was supposed to go on with my life. I couldn't. A few hours later, passing by the room, I peeked in and checked on it. Nothing. During the night, when I got up for water or whatever, I paused by the dough. Still nothing. This was fascinating to me. There, in that lump of flour, yeast, salt and water--something was happening. Something was going to make bubbles appear. Something was going to make the dough get larger. 

It's something that even JC took note of. During His 33 or so years on earth, when he knew that nearly every word he chose would be referenced for the next 2000 years (at least), he mentioned the workings of yeast. Twice in Matthew, He used yeast to explain himself and the Big Picture. I thought of Him as I waited to see signs that the yeast was working. This is probably a trend for me. I know that it will--I know that it takes so little--one eighth of a teaspoon--to work its way through the dough--but I wait anxiously for hours wanting to see the signs that it's working.

It was the tenth hour when the first bubble appeared. I saw it before I went to teach class that morning. I had nearly begun to despair--worrying that maybe I had used dead yeast (does it die?) or that the room had become too cold in the night. But there it was, one tiny little bubble, reminding me that biology and chemistry and everything else was taking place inside that bowl--just like JC said it would. 

I've been guilty of looking too closely for the bubbles here in China. There is so little I can do in some of my classes--at best--it's injecting just a tiny bit of yeast into our lessons. I teach English and try to improve their conversational skills and if I'm lucky, there's maybe one eighth of yeast added to the class during the whole semester. This is my second year and I get worried sometimes that there will be no bubbles. That the bread won't rise. That it will all just remain flour and salt and water and nouns and verbs and idioms.

And then in the tenth hour--a tiny bubble appears. We are promised that a word from Him will not return to Him empty, that the Big Picture is like a mustard seed or a tiny bit of yeast and that it will work. It turns out, that this week, I've seen a couple of bubbles. One is a bubble from someone else's batch of dough--another from mine. It's been really neat.

I guess I'm just glad that in all of it--though I aspire to be a Baker of Bread--it's really the yeast that does the work--just like he said it would. 

Election Afternoon

I'm proud of America. 

My election "night" (it's afternoon over here) consisted of hitting "refresh" a couple dozen times a minute as I clicked back and forth from NYTimes.com, MSNBC.com, and cnn.com.  My internet was too slow for live video feeds--but I did manage to hook up to NPR's live audio feed. Coupled with Skype calls to friends in the US--it was a pretty fun afternoon and I felt pretty well connected to what was happening. I still miss Dan Rather's Texas idioms from 2000 though! 

Whichever side of the political spectrum you fall on: we can all share in this historic moment for our country. My favorite non-Obama quote so far is from Thomas Friedman of the NYT: "Let every child and every citizen and every new immigrant know that from this day forward: Everything really is possible in America."

A few friends and I are going to an American-style restaurant for a late lunch: 

I plan to order apple pie.

A little more halloween...

I wigged it out for Halloween this year...I claim that I was a "Chinese Person"--but I really just wanted any excuse to wear a wig!

Shots from the Halloween Party...

The cutest condiments EVER--getting some mustard and ketchup for my burger!

Johnny and Liz as Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash

David and Katie as Yin and Yang!

Megan was a more legitimate Chinese girl--she even got black contacts to complete the ensemble!

Julie as Nobody

Julie's inspiration: Emily Dickenson's "I'm nobody" poem....what happens when English Majors choose Halloween costumes

Shy Princesses

Music moment with Andrew

Pumpkin carving!!! Chinese pumpkins aren't like U.S. ones--they are more like gourds--so we just have to make do!

Somehow mine ended up being a self portrait...I can't help it: the wig brought VANITY!!!

Me, Katera and Megan at VOX later that night

After a FUN night!

I hope all of you had as wonderful of a Halloween as I did! To see the full album, click here.

Halloween Present

Halloween isn't observed here in China--so it's always so much fun to explain the holiday to my students. I mentioned this last year--but we really do lead a charmed life. One day a year, all children get to dress up as anything they could ever want to be and then acquire bags upon bags of candy! Why? Because it's Halloween. Niiiiiice.

There are groups of sophisticated Chinese young adults who reportedly have begun hosting halloween costume parties--probably much in the same way that occasionally we have cinco de mayo parties in the US--and so maybe eventually Halloween will become more known to the Chinese people. 

As it is--It's been pretty fun to celebrate it among our Waigoren (foreigner) friends --to the confusion of our Chinese neighbors/passersby. Last night, many of us gathered for a Halloween party--complete with costumes, pumpkin carving and a "parade" out into the crowded streets to showcase the spectacle of Halloween! It wasn't quite tricking-and-treating--but it was hilarious. 

I'll post pics of the party soon--but for now wanted to share these two videos. I showed It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown to my classes that hadn't seen it last year. This is a great movie/show, I know...ok...I'm NOT arguing anything otherwise. I love it! BUUUUTTTTT....there are some sections of it that are a little....well...boring. 

Or so I thought! My students are 19-20ish years old--and EVERY class that saw the film laughed through the whole thing! I mean--LAUGHED--out loud--heartily! I understand giving an amused smile when you see Charlie Brown flummoxed by his bad luck...but really? Laughter? I finally was so dumbfounded by their enjoyment of it that I brought my camera and tried to capture it. The sound is quiet b/c they are listening through earphones--but here are two examples of them finding something funny that just blows me away! And this class (of COURSE--b/c it's the class I brought my camera to) was one of the more mild of the experience! 

Anyway--it cracks me up! Here's a glimpse of what they find funny: 

Halloweens Past

 A look back through the years...

Our mom is a pumkin carvin genius--see the "Halloween" spelled out in the smile.

1987--I'm the clown in blue

I'm guessing this is 1988

1989--I am the King of Rock n Roll. In China, Elvis is known as the "King of Cats"

Laura and Dylan same year

At the Sigmon's--I'm guessing around 1991?

The year we got creative with abstract costumes: Laura is the cow, I am a grandfather clock, Dylan is a #2 Pencil.

The abstraction continues: Dylan as Crest Toothpaste

Halloween during my chubby years: 1996

Pics of Halloween Present will come soon....