Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Give a little bit

How does one live on less than a dollar a day? I have no idea. But we've encountered a woman who claims to do just that. The weekend before last we were walking through a neighborhood as we were returning from our Saturday hike. There was about a dozen of us in the group--teachers, students and hangers on like me. Being in the back of the group, I noticed that a couple of the girls in the front had stopped before a little house. It turns out that an 82-year-old woman lived in that one room house and had asked them to help her thread a couple of needles. She was all but blind, you see. (cataracts, I think.) Michael and Joan started asking her questions (translated by the students, of course). It was a bit confusing to follow, as you had people speaking simultaneously in Chinese and English. From what I understood, the lady said that she was a widow, having outlived her husband and two sons. She lived alone and claimed to only get 250 yuan a year from the government. When asked if any of her neighbors helped her out, she replied that they didn't. One of the students gave her a handful of bills and Michael wondered if one of the other expatriates in town, who does development work, might be able to help her. I didn't add anything to the conversation, feeling a bit out of my depth. That the lady was impoverished was obvious, but I found it odd that her neighbors didn't help her out. Whether that was my old B.S. radar kicking in or just a rationalization to soothe my conscience, I don't know.

Anyway, this past weekend we walked through the neighborhood again and we checked in on this lady again. Who's idea this was--student or expat teacher--I don't know. She seemed to be in need of some kindling wood and matches. (She already had a stash of regular firewood.) A couple of the students went in and chopped up some kindling for her and started a fire going. Someone suggested that we gather some kindling for her on our hike. A good concept, as a dozen people can schlep a lot of wood. Unfortunately, our hike turned out not to go anywhere near a proper woods. We mostly hiked by fields and into one gorge which was quite damp. Since we were not the types to disassemble someone's barn, we didn't get any wood. At one point we ran into a couple of people carrying a load of wood, but they said that it needed to dry out to be of any use. When we got back to the village, we stopped at a couple of places looking for firewood. Nobody, it seems, had any for sale. (Though we were able to score some matches.) One of the people we talked to also said that the elderly lady was alright--folks were looking after her. When we got back to the lady's house, we gave her the matches and Michael offered to chop up some wood to make kindling for her. She replied that she was quite capable of doing that herself. So we left, scratching our heads.

Okay, maybe it was only me that left in a state of confusion. My reaction to poverty tends to be a bit chaotic anyway. I want to help, but I've heard tales of charity building an unhealthy dependency. (And, of course, there's the selfish part of me that just wants to keep the money and spend it on CDs.) When I'm asked to give, I often just have to guess if opening my wallet will do good or ill. Here in China it's all that much worse. I have no clue how the society works. In one sense, I suppose that's a good excuse for sitting on my hands. Rather than playing individual philanthropist I can just give to agencies that know what they're doing. In another sense, I suppose that's just one more thing I need to get a handle on while I'm living here.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Stealth holidays

So Thanksgiving has come and gone. It kind of snuck up on us out here. No ads for turkeys or cranberry sauce. No food drives for the impoverished. No travel advisories for the airports. While we were aware of the date, of course, it didn't have the feel of Thanksgiving. Back home we'd be inundated with all sorts of little visual and aural clues that the holiday was coming. Here it was business as usual. Yau Neih even had to work on Thursday. (Then again, so did my niece back in Illinois.) There is definitely a different rhythm to life here.

Despite that, however, we had a big Thanksgiving bash. Well, I should say we attended a Thanksgiving bash. Marty and Karen, some fellow ex-pats here did the actual hosting. Eighteen people they had in their flat! They had a great spread--turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie. And then after dinner the adults sat and chatted while the kids ran amok. The only thing that kept it from being a perfect celebration was the fact that our families were all back in the States. And maybe the fact that the Macy's parade didn't start until 10 pm China time.

Well, now it's the Christmas season and China is still business as usual. But of course, if you have kids (or are young at heart) Christmas can never sneak up on you. I've already heard Christmas carols emanating from our shower and we're counting down the days until Yau Neih's mom and sister come to visit. I suppose I should get out and do some shopping....

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Bring the family


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Originally uploaded by Yuek Hahn.
We had an interesting little outing on Sunday. (I know, I'm blogging out of order. You'll get over it.) It has become a tradition for Yau Neih and I to "explore" on Sunday afternoons. (If it happens once, it's happenstance; twice, it's a coincidence; thrice, it's a tradition.) It springs from the fact that there's no map of the city bus routes and I can't read any of the signs here. I figured I could just ride a bus and follow it's route on the street map I do have. Then I could write down the route for myself and know which bus to take if I wanted to travel anywhere. So, for the past three Sundays we've hopped a bus and rode it to where it led. On the first Sunday, we got off at what we thought was the end of the line (it seems that the busses actually do a loop rather than follow one road back and forth) and then had a pleasant stroll along some unfamiliar streets. This has become the more appealing part of our explorations.


Anyway, this week I was hoping to catch a bus route that ventured to the south part of town. We hopped a #11 bus and soon found out that it pretty much was a reverse of the #9 route which we took two weeks ago. That was a bit disappointing, but I decided to make some proverbial lemonade. We got off the bus at a particular intersection and headed south on foot. This was a road which we had followed for a couple of blocks back in our early days here. ("Early days"! I'm talking like we've been here for three decades rather than three months.) The road had started to become a residential thoroughfare, so at the time we turned back. This time, we decided to follow it through. According to the map, it curved around and joined up with another road which we had followed to a gate. A number of places here seem to have guarded gates on one end of the property but are completely open on the other end. So off we went, in search of a "back door".

The road ran much as I remembered. A block or two of shops, then mostly apartment complexes. (Oh, and the city government buildings.) The road made a couple of curves, getting thinner all the time. That's what a lot of the older roads seem to do, they narrow from two lanes to one and finally the pavement gives up and you're walking on dirt. Anyway, the pavement was still going strong when we saw another gate. It wasn't the same complex--this one was a bit older--but it was an obstacle nonetheless. There was a small roadway that looped around the brick wall, so I assumed that it was the "road" on the map. We veered off down that and as we rounded the corner we saw the end of the cement. The tire ruts quickly became a footpath. I should mention that some of the roads on my map have yet to be built.

We continued to follow the path as it hugged the wall. It turns out that the south section of what I thought was "town" is actually comprised of a bunch of gardens. Or maybe they're small farms. I don't know. So much of my thinking is still American so I view everything I see through that lens. Whatever they were, it was a nice place to stroll through. We saw a few people working their gardens as we passed. Eventually the path veered away from the wall. It turned out that we were atop a hill and before us lay a valley. A gorgeous vista of small houses and green fields. You just gotta love hill country. Anyway, the path headed downward and we followed it. In the distance we could see the road to which we had originally hoped to connect. Our path didn't lead there--at least not directly. We headed downhill and soon came to a crossroads of sorts. We could north, back towards home, or venture further south. As we stopped to consider or options, a man passed by heading that way. We smiled and gave him a quick "ni hao!" We decided to head a little further south. We strolled along chatting and enjoying the scenery. After a bit we came to a fork in the trail and paused to consider our options. As we walked we had caught up to the man and he turned around and tried to talk to us. We tried to tell him that we didn't speak Chinese, but he continued his efforts, tossing in an English word or two. He seemed to be inviting us to his home. We wavered on what to do, but then when he said "Come! Sit!" we thought, "What the heck, let's go for it."

We followed him along the downward trail, passing among the different plots. The man greeted his neighbors as we passed. There seemed to regard us with slight amusement, though I have no idea what they were saying to each other. We finally came to a small house at the end of the path, set alongside a couple of fishponds. The house itself was set a bit below the path and there was an attachment--like a wood shack, really--up at path level. He ushered us into the shack where another man and a couple of women were sitting. They greeted us warmly and poured us some tea and offered us candy, peanuts and some fruit. They also offered me a smoke, but I declined. They also called in the rest of the family--a younger man and woman and a school age boy. From what I could gather, the younger woman was the daughter of our host and his wife. The younger man was her husband, and they had a baby of their own. (The baby was asleep in a basket throughout the whole experience, so she doesn't count.) The boy was the son of the other couple. I pulled an old picture of Ga Dai and Siu Wan out of my wallet and we passed that around. About the best we could do, conversation-wise, was to tell that those kids were our daughters and that Yau Neih taught at the Education College. Then we sat and smiled and drank our tea as the family talked amongst themselves. The younger man and daughter soon went back to their work. Despite the language barrier, though, it was quite pleasant just being in a congenial atmosphere, enjoying the breeze coming through the windows and listening to the pigs and rooster making noise out back. After about a half hour or so, Yau Neih and I decided we should leave. The boy had brought his fishing pole and was fishing out of the window. I suspect he was angling so they could add two more places for dinner.

This kind of illustrates the discomfort we have with the Chinese style of hospitality. We feel guilty accepting such a welcome from total strangers. I mean, it's bad enough that they invited us to "set a spell". We're so time oriented that we're not used to making time for casual relationships. If we had been out shopping or taking care of some other business, we probably would never had accepted the invitation. (Heck, it takes effort to expand our normal "Hi!" to a one minute conversation.) But then, to not only have the pleasure of our host's company but to be fed and offered dinner as well, that's really heading deep into foreign culture for us. We left there wishing we could have offered something in return. Next time we go out strolling we'll have to bring housewarming gifts with us, just in case.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Flashback

I just had a flashback to my college days. I was ordering water, and reciting my written script which our waibon provided. The customer service person interrupted me and asked if it was for flat "er lin san"--203. "Si!" I replied. Why I started speaking Spanish, I don't know. Una botella de agua, por favor!

Monday, November 21, 2005

Dancin' fool

Tonight we went out and danced with the street dancers. It rocked! (Okay, actually it was a leetle bit more mellow than that. But we had fun nonetheless.) Actually, Yauh Neih has been dancing fairly regularly since her students dragged us out to the circle. After a couple nights, one woman (she introduced herself as Cindy) took Yau Neih under her wing and took her to the innermost circle. "Watch teacher!" she exclaimed in her limited English. I should explain the way this dancing thing works. The road that leads to the college, Shiji Lu, dead ends there. At the nearest intersection, whomever organizes the dances sets up a cart with a CD player and a PA system. They run a power cord over to the nearby ant restaurant. The dancers dance in a circle around the music, with one or more dance leaders dancing in the center. There are usually enough dancers to form three concentric circles. Sometimes a fourth circle forms, but since the "dance floor" is limited to the width of the road, it usually doesn't last very long. There's also a splinter group that forms a few lines a bit outside the circle and does a variation of the main dance.

Anyway, last night we danced for over an hour and a half. It wasn't too strenuous, save for one dance in which we had to turn ourselves around while skipping. We started out in the outer circle, but sometimes drifted into the second. After about a half hour, Cindy saw her and we were dragged into the inner circle. But even there we drifted into the second. It was very interesting. When I had watched the dancers earlier, I was impressed by how uniform everybody looked. It seemed like the experienced folks were in the middle while the neophytes stuck to the outer edges. Once I got in the mix, however, and was watching people more closely, I noticed that there was quite a bit of variation between dancers. Even the dance leaders sometimes were out of sync. Of course, that didn't let me off the hook. Cindy was on my left (or behind me, as the circle moves counterclockwise) and was trying to show me how to dance. Sometimes she would smack me one to get my attention. (Actually, there are a lot of times when I need an attention-getting smack.)

Getting the full dance experience has only increased my experience. We've asked a couple of people about the whole event, but haven't gotten straight answers. Some students said it was an activity for "retired people" even though there are plainly folks of all ages. One person told us that the dances were from the Wa ethnic minority. However, Yau Neih has recognized a couple of Chinese folk songs on the play list. Of course, when we did folk dancing in the States, they didn't limit themselves to American folk dances. Anyway, I'll have to get the language to ask some questions of the people who actually dance. Or maybe hire a translator. And if we get good enough at it, maybe we can start our own circle in Seattle. I already know of a dead end street....

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Pounding the pavement

Speaking of the street markets, as I was in the last post, I suppose I should report on our survey of the local markets. Last week we found ourselves in need of red cabbage. Our science curriculum does a good job of providing most of the materials needed for experiments, so you don't need to go chasing around trying to find something like powdered alum. There are, however, a handful of materials they expect you to be able to scrounge for yourself. Up until last week, we had managed to do just that, but then we had an experiment that asked us to use red cabbage water. All one needed to do is to boil up some red cabbage and pour off the leftover water for experimentation. The problem was, the local supermarkets didn't have the red variety. We tried green cabbage, but the green water didn't give us the results the answer book indicated. So we either had to blow off the experiment or find a supplier for the fabled red cabbage.

As I've mentioned before, we've yet to find the courage to try buying food at the street markets. Part of that has been due to our concept of hygiene--as if a supermarket is really as clean as we like to think it is--part has been due to the fact that you actually have to talk to a person to shop at a stall. But necessity pushed us out of the comfort zone, so off we went. Our first attempt was to walk down a road I call the market street. It's an older business district with shops on either side of the road. You also get vendors setting up little tables or blankets on the ground to sell their wares. Of course, you also have pedestrians, bikes, cars and small busses trying to make their way through. It's not the place to go if you have claustrophobia.

Anyway, we strolled down the market street looking at the farmers' offerings. There were many vegetables lying in baskets lined with banana leaves. They looked just as good as the fare offered in the supermarkets and some vendors even kept their produce moist by squirting water on it from time to time. (They didn't make the thunder sound like they do at the Safeway.) But while we saw a few items that weren't offered at the supermarkets, we saw no red cabbage.

The next day, we tried another market. This one is held at an empty lot along one of the main thoroughfares. We've passed it many a time, and new that prime shopping time there is in the morning. By afternoon, the market is reduced to a few die hard meat and fruit vendors. So Monday morning we walked over to the lot. Whereas the market street has all sorts of vendors selling--from veggies to hardware--this market is more properly a farmers' market. There was a greater variety here and more meat vendors (including one who was selling, er, dog), but we still were unable to find that red-hued treasure.

We were finally reduced to the last market of which we were aware. While walking down a more distant street, we had noticed that there seemed to be a market along one of its side streets. So, on Tuesday, we gave it a shot. It turned out to be the biggest market in town, located in a plaza behind all of the buildings. There were vegetables, fruits, meats, spices, clothing, hardware and household goods. We even found a turkey for Thanksgiving! (We didn't buy it, however, since it was not quite dead. Learning to butcher is pretty low on my list of desired Yunnan experiences.) But, alas, one of the things that was not included in this bounty was, of course, the fabled red cabbage. So I guess the child will just have to substitute with beet juice. (That we had foresight to buy in Kunming.)

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Shop til you drop

Major accomplishment today. We actually shopped for and bought a couple of blankets from a bedding store. With the colder weather and all we decided that the kids could each use another blanket on their beds. Now we've been rather wimpy when it comes to shopping. About 90% of our purchases have come from five stores--the three supermarkets, a small grocer in the housing development adjacent to the college and one of the campus stores. All places where you can grab things off the shelf and head to the checkout. For the blankets, we tried to buy some at the supermarket, but the only kind they had were big quilted comforters. So phrasebook (and groceries) in hand, we went off in search of a bedding store.

Apparently our language lessons have paid off somewhat, because when we found a blanket we liked, I was able to say "Do you have two of these?"--yo may yo liang (point at blanket). The sales clerk had to correct me there. I should have said "liang gu (point at blanket)." (leaving out the "gu" is like saying you want two breads or one pants) The clerks fetched another blanket, a slightly different one, and Yau Neih liked that one so much she asked if they had two of that. They did, so we took it. Yau Neih was able to ask how much they cost and I was able to understand the price and pay the right amount. (much more efficient than holding out a wad of money and hoping that they give you change back)

Of course, to call this a major accomplishment is a bit of hyperbole on my part. I know that we'll have truly adapted to life here when we can go to one of the street markets and haggle. Of course, getting me to haggle may require divine intervention....

Monday, November 14, 2005

Everything's not A-OK

How depressing! I took the Sesame Street Persona Test and I was judged to be most like Snuffleupagus. Snuffleupagus has to be one of my least favorite characters on the show. Of course, the last time I watched the show I think ol' Snuff was actually a hallucination or something like that. Perhaps his character has evolved since then. Anyway, to add insult to injury, Yau Neih also took the test and she was judged to be Bert. Bert is evil! (Well, at least he used to be until they pulled that website.) What a revoltin' development this is.

(I discovered the test via Pax Nortona, of course.)

The north wind doth blow...

Well, no snow, but it does feel like winter around here--at least in the flat. The policy, I'm told, is that buildings south of the Yangtze River have no central heat. While this may be fine for places like Guangzhou, here in the highlands it makes for chilly living. Yesterday evening we even fired up the space heater to try and heat the place up a bit. Today we fired it up in the morning and it exceeded our expectations. By afternoon, it was quite warm outside. Of course, we had kind of hoped that the heater would have warmed the apartment, but as long as there's a warm place to go, one can't complain. (Seriously, the heat discrepancy stems from the fact that we only have windows facing north and so get no direct heat from the sunshine. This was a wonderful feature back in August.)

Actually, this is all like a flashback to the days of my youth. When I was a teenager, I had a bedroom in the basement, which was always cooler than the ground floor of our house. During the winter, bedtime was always a matter of rushing out of my warm clothes and hurrying under the blankets where I could be warm after a few minutes of shivering. Now, of course, I have a nice warm wife to cuddle up to... assuming she's not staying up late finishing a book.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

All I want for Christmas

Hey, this is cool. The cardboard box has been inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame. Maybe next year they'll induct Bic pens. Those made great spaceships when I was not paying attention in class.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Rambling

Ah, what to write, what to write? I feel guilty not having some topic screaming for a blog entry--I mean, it's only 20 short months until the planned end of our China adventure and I'm reduced to writing about reverse culture shock and returning to corporate America. (or maybe Yau Neih's new career. We haven't figured that one out yet.)(This week it seems like me staying home full time would be a very bad idea.) I need to be making up hay while the sun shines. (Actually, I need to make up some sunshine, too. The top of Qi Shan is enveloped in fog.) Ah, well, maybe I'll just post some minor commentary and be done with it.

I've just been reading the election returns from the Seattle Times website. I've found that election returns are depressing even in China. Not that I've been into the election at all this year--from January through August I was too busy and since then I've been here. But I still don't care to see the same old politicos voted back into the same old offices. If there had been some changes I could at least delude myself that things might be different. As for the defeat of the monorail, I have mixed feelings. I don't like seeing my tax dollars thrown away by poor management, but to have tax dollars thrown away and nothing to show for it seems worse. Ah, well. Maybe I should just get into politics when I return home. ;-)

Had an interesting "middle-aged moment" last night at English corner. That's the one where I help our neighbor, Joan. Joan chose to do a review of some of her classes last night, and since we started with low numbers I ended up sitting in with the students. I'm usually not aware of the age difference between myself and the students, but one of the activities was to describe their families to each other. When the student I was paired with started telling me that her parents were in their mid-40s I was suddenly reminded that I'm a lot older than most of the people in my "neighborhood". Now that I think about it, back in the States I did tend to be a bit segregated from the 20 somethings. Guess I hadn't noticed the change given all of the other cultural differences.

Yesterday I also faced the temptation to buy The DaVinci Code. There was a little book sale on campus and Yau Neih said that they had English versions of that and Bill Clinton's memoirs. Now I had no interest in either book back in the States, but here I'm reduced to reading my kids' school books and even a romance novel Yau Neih had borrowed. Very scary.

For lack of another creative outlet, I've decided to start a project on my Flickr site. I'm trying to document a bit of our life here--a walk down to the big supermarket in town. These days it seems all too routine to us, but you all might find it interesting. And I'm sure that years down the road we'll enjoy the nostalgia of it.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Got change for a twenty?

Well, today I performed what my friend Marty terms a "stupid foreigner trick". The "stupid" came in when I left my phrasebook at home. The trick started a bit before then.

Like most teachers, Yau Neih uses books for her classes. In her case, the book that's used is chosen by the college authorities. To hear the foreign teachers tell it--the book is awful. It was obviously written for English as a Second Language students living in the United States. (as opposed to English as a Foreign Language students in China) It also appears to have been a 4-color book reprinted as a 2-color for the Chinese market. My main clue to this is one page where you have different people pictures with their hair color indicated: brown, blond, grey, etc. It makes no sense to indicate such things when the only crayons you have to use are black and magenta. Anyway, our teachers make due and, since the students paid good money to buy these books, they try to use them the best they can.

So, a couple weeks ago, Michael came by and wondered if we had any American money on us. His next lesson was dealing with currency and given the origins of the book, they were talking about dollars and cents. The pictures, however, were quite small and he wanted to show the class the real thing, if possible. Well, it turns out that I did have some bills--two twenties, a ten and some singles--and a nice little stash of change. (In those last hectic days before we left, I had tossed the coins in my suitcase.) So I lent it to him and the students were quite delighted to see some authentic American artifacts.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. Now it's Yau Neih's turn to give the lesson to her class. But perfectionist that she is, she couldn't settle for my incomplete collection of American gelt. She wants a fiver to complete the collection. (Yeah, I know, we were also missing the 50 and 100. But why show bills to the class that we don't see that often?) The question was, from where do we get it? It's not like we discovered a coin and stamp shop in town. Anyway, our first plan was to ask around the expatriate community. Alas, nobody was carrying greenbacks. Or at least not chump change like $5. So our next step was to hit the bank.

Actually, I should specify that we hit the bank that's holding our U.S. dollars. When Yau Neih gets paid, the college automatically deposits her pay in an account the set up at the Agricultural Bank. However, the Ag isn't allowed to handle U.S. funds. When we showed up here with our start-up stipend in U.S. dollars, we had to set up an different account at the Bank of China. Weird, I know. I hope I never have to find out which bank handles euros.

Anyway, this morning Yau Neih and I walked over to the BoC. We get to the bank, and, as is our custom, I head towards the tellers and she goes to sit on the couch. I handed her my umbrella and reach for my phrasebook. #$%$^! I forgot my phrasebook. I mean, it was bad enough that I didn't try and figure out what I was going to try and say before I left home. But now I can't even say the word for withdrawal. Rather than make a complete idiot of myself... correction. I already had done the making part. Rather than reveal my idiocy for all the tellers to see, I decided to just head back home and come back with my phrasebook in the afternoon. Such was my plan. Did I mention my wife was a perfectionist? Well, she is. And perfection, in her mind, does not consist of walking to the bank and then turning around without attempting to complete one's business. She politely volunteered to break tradition and attempt to get the five dollars herself. This really challenged my pride. Not that I was worried about Yau Neih making an idiot of herself. Rather it was that, since BoC doesn't do joint accounts, she would have to take my bankbook and my passport to the teller who would undoubtedly ask (in Chinese) why the heck I'm sitting on the couch and making her do the banking. Anyway, thus I was shamed into making the attempt myself.

I went up to the teller and gave her my bankbook. I wasn't even sure that the BoC would have five dollar bills, so I asked "yo may yo wu USD?" "Do you or don't you have five USD?" She ignored what I said and asked (I think) if I wanted that converted to the local currency. Actually she asked that a couple of times and I answered "No, USD." a couple of times in return. That's been my experience in communicating across the language barrier. You say some things and they say some things and bit by bit you both figure out enough to handle your business. Anyway, I finally got across the idea that I wanted US currency. The next challenge was to specify the amount. She kept saying "wu bai"--500. I kept specifying "wu"--5. What I wouldn't have given for the ability to say "just five" in Chinese. Anyway, it actually got to the point where she had run a transaction and pulled out a stack of bills. This was good in the sense that there were one dollar bills on top of the stack, which implied that they might have a fiver. It was bad in the sense that she started counting out $500. That's when I started waving my hands and repeating "Boo! Boo! Boo!" "No! No! No!" (I have to admit, it's a lot more fun to say this in Mandarin than probably any other language.) Finally, I got my point across. "You just want five dollars?" she sort of said. I nodded enthusiastically. Then I received the dirtiest look I've ever gotten in China and was asked to sign a couple of slips. Basically I had just withdrawn $500 and then deposited $495. Then I was given my bankbook, a precious five dollar bill and, surprisingly, a smile. I thanked her and gave her the only apologetic phrase I know--"dway boo chee".

All I can say after that is: if any of Yau Neih's students try to snatch our U.S. money, please.... take the twenty.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Do you wanna dance?

Man, I'm falling behind on my posting. I guess the "gosh-wow!" of being in a new place has truly become the same-old, same-old of everyday life. So I suppose the time has come to wax philosophical.

It's been a relatively busy week. The curriculum for Siu Wan's schooling called for a few crafts which ate into the time. I've also been working to try and make a class list for Yau Neih. (When she starts a class I photograph all of the students, download the pix to the laptop and throw together a page of faces and names for her to use in class.)(I've got to keep up those desktop publishing skills, you know.) Anyway, come Thursday night I was ready to print things out. Yau Neih and Siu Wan went off to watch the locals dancing in the street and I headed over to the English department office. (We don't have a printer so I make a pdf of the file, e-mail it to myself, and then download it to the English office computer and print it out.) My plan was thwarted however, as there was somebody already using the machine. In America, I would have asked when they might be finished. In China, however, they tend to treat us lao wai like guests, and I was afraid that if I said anything, the person using the machine would drop what they were doing and get out of my way. That much politeness I didn't want, so I just quietly walked past the office and headed back to the flat. But then I changed my mind and went to join Yau Neih.

I think I've described "the dancers" before. Every night, weather permitting, a bunch of people gather on a nearby street corner and do circle dances to recorded music. Some of the students say that it's the "retired people" that do it, but there are middle aged and younger folk in the mix as well. It was kind of funny, watching the action the other night. The older folks were definitely better dancers than the young'uns. Probably came from years of practice. So anyway, we watched them for at least a half hour, if not longer.

Then on Friday night, we did our musical English corner and came home. It was about eight o'clock, nobody was tired and we were all bored. So when Yau Neih said she was going to watch one of her students give dance lessons, we all decided to go along. The student has the unusual English name of Journey, and definitely comes across as an artist. Now, you might expect that we were going to watch him teach some ethnic dance, but actually he teaches hip-hop dancing. (Note, he says it's hip-hop but there's no way an old, unhip geezer such as myself could know whether he is telling the truth or not.) We found the classroom he was using and watched as he tried to teach four or five girls how to dance. It was really quite enjoyable. I could tell that Journey was a good dancer because it was more interesting to watch him dance than to watch the girls.

Later when I thought about the two nights' entertainments, I realized that I've come to this place at just the right time. Throughout the process of coming here, I've thought that it might have been better had I done this when I was a young man. Like someone doing a stint in the army, it would have been easier to put my life on hold for two years while I did my tour of duty. No house to manage, no kids to wrangle. But looking at my experiences here, I have to realize that I never had the maturity in my younger days to appreciate what's here. While I might have appreciated a good hike at 23 or so, I would never had been content to sit and watch some "old fogeys" dance. Also back then I had a very narrow taste in music. I doubt if I would have deigned to sit still for anything that didn't fit my criteria. And that same lack of maturity would similarly got in the way of my eating and most of the other experiences I've been having here. So while I still may wish I didn't have to worry about how my house is holding up or paying the storage fees, I think that I have to say that the Guy pulling my strings knows what He's doing.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

English we have heard on high

Every time I figure out the status quo here, it changes. I suspect that maybe change is the status quo. Anyway, the latest alteration to life here centers on the English corners. Now, we've got three corners here on campus--two that happen concurrently on Wednesday evenings and Yau Neih's "music corner" on Friday. There's also a English corner--Marty's corner, we call it--out in one of the neighborhoods on Saturday night. We've helped out at all four, so it makes for a nice, active schedule.

Anyway, last week one of the national English teachers, Paul, approached me and invited me to a new English corner, also held off campus on Saturday night. The way he pitched it, it was going to run longer than the other corners and was supposed to help some of the poorer folks in the community. Now, I have a difficult time saying no and ended up agreeing to come to that initial gathering. One thought that ran through my mind was that the current Saturday night corner already has a good supply of foreigners, so perhaps it was time to share the wealth. Of course, Yau Neih later pointed out that I had failed to consider the relationship I had already built with the regular attendees of Marty's corner. Blowing them off would be rather rude. But my RSVP had been made and I was stuck.

Saturday night was rather dreadful. The rain was heavy and the campus driveway is unpaved. Our neighbor Michael was also solicited for the corner, so Paul escorted us both to the corner. There were about 20 students there, only a couple of whom I recognized. It turned out, however, that they were pretty much all from the college. The program itself was quite simple: talk to the foreigners. They did, and we had a nice conversation for a couple of hours. Afterwards, Michael asked Paul about what happened to the poor folks who were supposed to be attending. Paul said that he was going to try and ask the folks living in the nearby shanties for next week. I got the distinct impression that, giving Paul the benefit of the doubt, this English corner was very much a work in progress.

Come Monday, the plot thickened. One of Michael's students approached him between classes and invited him to attend a new--you guessed it--English corner. This one is also planned for Saturday night and is being put together by the Student Union. (I'm not quite sure what the Student Union is. I think it may be the young party members or something.) This left us lao wei quite puzzled. Are people that hungry for English around here? Or are they just getting sick of these foreign run English corners? Either way, none of us foreign speakers really want to add to our English corner load. (Actually, I take that back. I'd love to go, but I do have to leave some time for teaching my own kids and for doing those pesky household chores.) We'll have to see what happens.