Updated on August 4, 2011
Fun Links
For your reading pleasure:
Item #1: My life in reverse. Read about the experience of a Chinese teacher teaching in the States. Her impressions and commentary on America are quite amusing (at least to me). I had to laugh at the quote from the American school superintendent, “Part of [the Chinese teachers] coming here is us indoctrinating them about our great country and our freedoms.” We all love a little dose of American arrogance. Before I knock my homeland too much, I must confess that a Chinese school official would also likely say that one of the main benefits of me being here is indoctrinating me about how great China is. Another memorable quote from the article:
That afternoon, Ms. Zheng taught classes at Central Middle School, drilling 22 eighth graders on how to count to 100 in Chinese and explaining some Chinese holidays before turning her back to write a Chinese tongue twister on the board.
Out of the blue, a girl with long brown hair asked her classmates loudly: “Where’s France at?”
“In Europe,” a boy with baggy jeans called out from across the room.
“France is not in Europe,” another boy said.
Ms. Zheng just kept writing Chinese characters on the board. “American students don’t know a lot about the outside world,” she said later. “Mostly just what they see here.”
Cultural sidenote: Ahhhh, blessed indirectness. Ms. Zheng’s appraisal of American students could be so much harsher.
Item #2 is a tongue in cheek description of the Shanghai World Expo. This article is likely more entertaining to those of us who have lived in China. Best quote of the article:
Cost to China of Shanghai Expo: $55 billion. Discomfort of standing in 3-kilometer line for a port-o-potty: incalculable. Trumping Japan in an international event: priceless.
Item #3 is proof why being an English speaker (and reader) in China is unceasingly amusing. This shirt definitely tops the popular-on-our-campus “No paint, no gains” shirt. Before you mock China too much, remember that people in the States could likely unknowingly be sporting similar messages in Chinese.
Updated on August 4, 2011
Reason #1,021 and #1,022 I love living in China
#1,021: Rain is a perfectly acceptable and valid reason to cancel plans. In the states, we may rank the excuse “I’m sorry I can’t make it, it’s raining” right up there with “I’m sorry I can’t make it, I need to wash my hair.” However, in China, this excuse more closely ranks with “I’m sorry I can’t make it, I’m sick.” I have my guesses as to why this is the case (such as, you have to walk everywhere, and the streets get dirty and gross in the rain or the Chinese have a great fear of catching a cold), but honestly, I don’t really care about the reason. I just think it’s wonderful. Because, really, when it’s raining, all you want to do is throw on sweatpants and curl up under a blanket. It’s just not fun to go traipsing through puddles to go sit in cold rooms with wet feet.
#1,022: When rain unexpectedly rolls into town while you’re at class–unexpectedly because you can’t read the weather forecast in Chinese that’s sent to your cell phone–you don’t have to worry about getting soaked on the way home. Chances are at least one of your students was prepared enough to bring an umbrella. And chances are they’re going to check to see if you have an umbrella. And chances are if you don’t, they’re either going to give you their umbrella or insist on walking you home under their umbrella. This offer, which would be viewed as almost absurd politeness in the States, is not viewed in anyway as an imposition. It’s not a burden or a self-sacrifice. It is simply just what you do to take care of your teacher.
In conclusion: I love living in China.
Updated on August 4, 2011
Happy Mother’s Day!
I wish I could actually be in the States to celebrate with my own mother, but I’m so grateful that she understands and supports the work that keeps me here. Thank you for your love and encouragement throughout the years that allowed me to dream big dreams!
Updated on August 4, 2011
Just when I’m ready to pack my bags
My feet were sopping wet, I had spent the last forty-five minutes packed into a roasting train station waiting room, people had been and were staring, nearby gawkers had had their fair share of conversations about me, I had multiple bags and a hanging plant I was trying to juggle, and I was tired. I was tired from the day and at the moment I was tired of China. It was one of those times when an imminent return to the States sounded just glorious, and were someone to wave a ticket in front of my face, I would snatch it out of their hands.
I had spent the day in the nearby “big city” with a couple teammates. There were several reasons that coaxed me out on a particularly rainy and dreary day. First, I got to visit the again (pictures to come later). I couldn’t pass up a chance to see my Chinese “nephews.” Secondly, Jennifer and I were meeting up with two families who just were united with their daughters (from the orphanage in our city). Lastly, and not nearly as importantly, the trip offered me a chance to stock up on cheese and butter. All of these destinations certainly made the trip worthwhile, but the moments in between getting us to said destinations were somewhat dreadful. The weather, with a steady rain, was miserable. That, coupled with the fact that you walk a lot in China, was enough to make the day unpleasant. Add to that sparse taxis and torn up roads, and we have a good reminder why sometimes the cheese isn’t worth a trip to the big city.
Anyways, by the end of the day, we were more than ready to get on a train and go home. A last minute stop at Walmart meant that on top of our heavy cheese/butter/pizza sauce/pasta food bags, we had shelves for Lucy’s new room, other decor, and a hanging plant Jennifer thought she couldn’t live without. We dragged all of our loot into the station, put all the loot through the x-ray machine (all the time being pushed and shoved by people eager to get their bags that have yet to come through), re-gathered all the loot, and headed to the waiting room. We were drenched from the rain, and soon drenched with sweat. Although the train wasn’t leaving for forty five minutes, people were already packed in a line with standing room only. After enduring the wait, heat, stares, conversations about us, and tired feet we were understandably thrilled when the line started to move and the promise of a seat on the train imminently awaited us.
At this point, the experience can only be likened to cattle being loaded on a cattle car. Those behind just push and shove, and a line about six people across has to be squeezed through a narrow hole that only one person can fit through. So Jennifer and I, bags hanging from all limbs, were just trying to stay upright when a gang of old ladies came violently shoving past us. This is the moment I would have taken that ticket to the States. The whole situation had gotten to that point of ridiculousness where all we could do was bust out laughing. Our laughter caught the attention of the pushy ladies and they took real notice of us for the first time. I can only imagine their thoughts as they gazed at two sweaty foreigners, bags (and plants) hanging haphazardly, trying not to be overrun by Chinese people. They must have been moved by some sort of pity, because suddenly, one of the ladies reached over to grab one of the handles of Jennifer’s heaviest food bag to share the load. The rest of the ladies became our personal pushing escort, bulldozing a path for us to go through. By the time we got through the ticket check point, two of the ladies had taken complete control of the heavy food bag. Given the Chinese aversion to cheese, we didn’t worry too much about the bag being stolen. The ladies carried the bag for us to our car, and then disappeared into the crowds. And I fell in love with China once again.
Updated on August 4, 2011
Sick food
I’ve long suspected that my Chinese textbook was not created by native English speakers (and in particular, by Americans). In our last lesson, my suspicions were confirmed. The lesson subject was visiting someone in a hospital. Throughout the book, the same people appear repeatedly in the dialogues. The dialogue in this lesson was between two foreign exchange students: Mary (a Canadian and the patient in the hospital) and David (an American). The following is the excerpt that, in my mind, unequivocally confirmed the book was written by a Chinese author:
David: “What do you want to eat for lunch today? Fried vegetables and rice, noodles, or dumplings?”
Mary: “Mc*Donald’s! I want to eat Mc*Donald’s today!”
David: “Right now your health isn’t good, so let’s eat dumplings.”
Clue #1: this conversation boldly displays the assumption that all North Americans love Mc*Donald’s. My students often assume that all Americans eat at the popular fast food joint multiple times every week. I rarely, or more correctly, never, eat at the golden arches in the States. However, I have consumed my fair share of McD’s here in China. And by fair share I mean a hamburger every now and then when we travel to a big city that actually has McD’s. The fact that it tastes “like America” overrides the health factor.
Possible rebuttal: When Americans are sick in China, we crave American food. The last thing I want to eat when I’m sick is Chinese food. The very thought of Chinese food is often repulsive to me. The writer of this conversation, within Mary’s request, seems to suggest an awareness of this trend. Perhaps an American did write this conversation.
Undisputed clue #2: This rebuttal is immediately smashed to pieces by David’s (who, let me remind you, is an American) response. The heartless guy rejects the poor sick girl in a foreign country’s request and instead declares that they will eat dumplings together. Don’t get me wrong, dumplings are great. And I understand they are culturally significant. And likely more healthy than a happy meal. But this doesn’t change the fact that very few sick Americans would actually want to consume a plate of dumplings. No North American in their right mind would force their sick North American friend to eat dumplings, regardless of their health.
Poor sick Mary. I sure hope one of her classmates brought her that happy meal.
Updated on August 4, 2011
Not too shabby
Last week I asked you to hypothesize how many of my 25 students would show up to class this afternoon. This weekend was a holiday weekend, and Monday classes and Tuesday morning classes had been canceled. I was certain quite a few students would extend their holiday; I was wrong. 24 of 25 students showed up–and the one student absent was only gone because of a delayed train. And that is the reason I am completely ruined for teaching in America. Sorry folks, I’ll take Chinese students any day. I rewarded my students for their presence by drawing this on the board to help with the lesson:
Kudos to whoever can appropriately identify what “this” is and why it was included in a writing lesson.
I headed back to class today refreshed from the holiday weekend. In addition to Sam’s bash, I had all the “girls without dads” over for a Sunday brunch of crepes. Earlier this year when the single gals on the team had a get together, Jude asked his mom why she wasn’t invited. Jennifer explained it was because she’s married. Jude replied, “Oh, so it’s just the girls without dads?” The name has stuck. Anyways, we enjoyed a leisurely morning of chatting and eating our fill of crepes.
On Monday we had birthday bash #2 as we celebrated Daren’s special day with a “Blast from the past.”
The party featured sub sandwiches (a real treat around these parts)…
…wonderful gifts like giant coffee mugs with Spanish writing on them (you can find anything in our small market…check out Will’s reaction to the giant mug)…
…a crazy Jeopardy game all about Daren (game created by Sonny…of course)…
…which was officiated by the Clements’ clan…
…birthday “cake” (aka fruit pizza)–can you tell how old Daren is?…
…and an old fashioned game of four square outside.
That’s right folks, it was warm enough to be outside with only short sleeves. Looks like spring is finally arriving!
Updated on August 4, 2011
Food for thought
The following excerpt is from Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis. In it, the main character Orual has just presented her case against the gods. She is complaining to them of the perceived injustice in her life.
“Enough,” said the judge.
There was utter silence all around me. And now for the first time I knew what I was doing. Now I know that I had been reading my complaint over and over–perhaps a dozen times. I would have read it forever, quick as I could, starting the first word again almost before the last was out of my mouth, if the judge had not stopped me. And the voice I read it in was strange to my ears. There was given to me a certainty that this, at last, was my real voice.
There was silence in the dark assembly long enough for me to have read my complaint out yet again. At last the judge spoke.
“Are you answered?” he said.
“Yes,” said I.
The complaint was the answer. To have heard myself making it was to be answered. Lightly men talk of saying what they mean. When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you’ll not talk about the joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?
…The air was growing brighter and brighter and brighter about us; as if something had set it on fire. Each breath I drew let into me new terror, joy, overpowering sweetness. I was being unmade. I was no one. The earth and stars and sun, all that is or will be, existed for his sake. And he was coming. The most dreadful, the most beautiful, the only dread and beauty there is, was coming. The pillars on the far side of the pool flushed with his approach. I cast down my eyes.
…I ended my first book of complaint with the words no answer. I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice? Only words, words; to be led out to battle against other words.
Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. Go near to listen rather than to offer the sacrifice of fools, who do not know that they do wrong. Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few. A dream comes when there are many cares, and many words mark the speech of a fool. ~Ecclesiastes 5:1-3
Updated on August 4, 2011
Sunday Snapshot: Backyardigan’s Bash
Yesterday, we celebrated our youngest teammate’s birthday. We’re a few days shy of her third birthday, but since her Aunt & Uncle and grandparents were visiting all the way from America, we figured there was a good reason for an early party. The theme was selected by the birthday girl herself.
I have never seen an episode of the Backyardigan’s, nor do I possess any knowledge of the characters, so there will be a void of show-themed comments. Sam’s apparently the “pink” character.
Will attempted to be the moose (I’m assuming based on the antlers that this is a moose), but a poorly designed mask meant we just couldn’t make it stay on his face correctly.
There were party favors all the way from America, which meant we didn’t have to create yet another version of our go-to team birthday game “pin-the-something-on-the-something.”
Said party favors soon gave way to the game “how many times can each kid get hit in the face before one kid cracks.”
Luckily, the dinner bell rang before any massive breakdowns commenced. If there’s one thing this team excels at, it’s eating!
Daddy spoke a blessing over Sam, and then…
…the birthday girl was served up the first plate, of course.
After stuffing our faces, it was time for presents.
The team got quite the kick out of one wrapping job in particular. Look closely at the figure. If you don’t know who it is, read up on your iconic figures in Chinese history (and no, I’m not referring to Hello Kitty).
Some presents, you can only find in China.
And some, only in America. (By the way, we discovered Sam has a previously undiscovered talent of displaying clothing to an audience.)
The present-opening offered a much needed nap break for some members of the team.
While others watched in rapt attention (and admitted jealousy over some of Sam’s newly acquired shirts; it’s safe to say she’s the best dressed around here).
No party, of course, is complete without the cake. Rach did an awesome rendition of Pablo.
The party was enlightening for the team, as we got direct evidence of where Sam (and Wu’s) spunk comes from.
After unabashedly hamming it up for the camera, Mr. Wu asked me, “These aren’t going to show up on your blog, are they?” To which I just let out an evil chuckle.
Happy Birthday, Sam! You are greatly loved…and the team just wouldn’t be the same without your sass, spunk, and infectious giggle!
Updated on August 4, 2011
Muffin Mama
A recent conversation with my (almost) three year old teammate last night reveals a great deal about the items that frequently come out of my kitchen. Sam strolled in last night as I was making dinner:
Sam: “You got muffins, Kat?”
Me: “Nope. I gave all of them to your family.” (Wu’s parents, Aunt, and Uncle are visiting, so I had made a batch up for them a couple days ago.)
Sam: “You makin’ pasta?”
Me: “No, I’m making chicken.”
Sam: “Is it for us?”
Me: “No, just for me.”
“You got muffins?” is usually one of the first questions Sam asks upon arriving at my house. I make muffins a lot. For out of town visitors, for students, for a lazy Saturday morning, for any occasion presenting a legitimate excuse for their consumption. One of the most frequent types of muffins I make up are banana muffins, and indeed this is the variety I’m most famous for. Today, I’m sharing the recipe with you…warning, make them once for loved ones and you may become the permanent muffin mama/papa in the family.
Updated on August 4, 2011
In some ways, so different
Earlier this week, I wrote about how my experiences as a Chinese language student are helping me better understand my students. However, there are still many ways in which we are very different. Take two exhibits from the classroom this week:
- Exhibit A: As I collected a midterm from one of my students (and not one I know particularly well), she gazed up at me and said “I love you Miss Katherine!” I have never ever professed love to a teacher–nor do I think I ever will–after completing an exam, or for that matter, at any other time.
- Exhibit B: As I walked into the classroom today, there was a collective gasp of awe and explosion of applause. This is the way I’m greeted whenever I walk into a room over here. Ok, not really. It is the way I’m usually greeted if I wear a skirt. But due to large quantities of freezing rain pouring from the sky today, I was not wearing a skirt. They just applauded because they were so excited to take their midterm exam! Ok, that’s not it either. They applauded because I had my hair halfway clipped back (rain + naturally wavy hair = disastrous consequences, hence need for clips) and because I was wearing my glasses (something I only do when I’m really tired). So, what may be classified as my “frumpier” look earned me an awed round of applause today. Oh how I love teaching here!
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