March 3rd: Chinese Tea and Chinese Checkers

Several of the other Americans at my university and I met up to go out for supper. Well, there was four of us American teachers, a British teacher, and one of the Russian exchange students, Oleg. We ended up going down to one of the fanciest hotels in town, just a short walk along the moat from our campus—on the ground floor is a restaurant; it was nearly empty when we arrived. They had some “western” food, but the steak and hamburgers and pizza were quite expensive, and besides we’re all still enjoying the Chinese food, so we just got rice pots. Mine was with pork and vegetables (mostly bell peppers, my favorite!), but a couple of the others tried the eel.

After we ate, a Chinese friend of Jason’s (he’s been here a semester already) came to join us. I don’t know her Chinese name, but in English she is called Spring. She took us down to the street just outside the west gate of the university where the students hang out. It was crowded with small shops, stalls selling various street food, bakeries, and KTV (karaoke) places. Roanne, the British girl, is obsessed with finding good bakeries, so we stopped at a few. Spring took us down a side street to a little tea house. Inside was quite dark; each booth had a high back, and was surrounded by a curtain of ivy vines. We squeezed into a booth, and Spring ordered us some Chinese tea—very thin, and a little bitter. We sipped tea and played Chinese checkers (yes, it’s called Chinese checkers for a reason—it’s quite popular here). It’s played just as I learned growing up, but Spring had some new rules to add that made it much more challenging and interesting.

March 2nd: Frustration

Good morning, world! I woke up at seven this morning with the music coming in the window—the students are back to class now. My classes don’t start until next week, but most of the other courses started yesterday. At seven each morning, the university pumps music over loudspeakers across campus to wake up the students—luckily, they are nice people and play gentle, mostly instrumental music. If it was an American university, I bet they’d have to blast Metallica at volume 10 to wake up college students. As I went to bed pretty early, the early morning music didn’t bother me and I got up then. I hope I can keep that up—however, I’ll probably revert to my night owl ways after the jet lag wears off, and then I’m sure I’ll have some not-so-nice words to say about music at seven a.m, since I only have an early class one day a week.

I spent most of the day aggravating Frank about the internet situation. The simple code that should have worked of course didn’t, and I passed several hours of frustration trying to reconfigure all sorts of things on my computer to get it to work. Come to find out, at four o’clock, that he had sent in the wrong IP address. But, enough about that, lest I fail to follow the Bible verse that says to “do all things without whining and complaining.”

March 1st: Trip to Wuhan

I rolled out of bed at five-something this morning. All of us new teachers were packed into a van at six a.m., and we set out for Wuhan, the provincial capital. The trip took nearly four hours. We had to do medical examinations for our legal paperwork here. Once we got there, we were processed quickly and didn’t have any problems—it only took about an hour and a half to do everything we had to do. Then we adjourned to the nearby KFC for lunch. Ordering in KFC might sound easy, but the overhead menu is of course written mostly in Chinese symbols. The easiest thing is to order a combo, and then all you have to say is the number. However, Frank got them to give us a picture menu, so we could point out what we wanted. It still took some time to order—it seems the Chinese have long discussions over things that we Americans would consider to be one-word answers (Do you want juice or coke?). I taught Frank a couple of new words in English that he didn’t know (good thing I had a dictionary in my bag)—“sauce” and “salt.” The sauce revelation did allow me to procur some ketchup and two varieties of some sort of sweet and sour sauce (not barbecue, but pretty good), but I think he thought the salt reference was just a vocabulary lesson for him, as I never got any. The food at KFC here is a bit different from in the states—much of it looks the same, but it is spiced differently. Most of the chicken is quite hot. Luckily, they have a wonderful orange-juice concoction.

We then packed back into the van to whine for another nearly four hours about whether we were nearly there yet. It was 3:30 when we got home. Frank came up to my apartment about five and got the IP address for my computer, so HOPEFULLY I will have the internet soon! I think I’m going through internet withdrawal.

I spent a quiet evening; I cleaned a while. I was tired so I stayed in and fixed some pasta with red sauce (not great quality, but edible) and watched a dvd (Hey, BW, can you guess which one?), then went to bed fairly early.

The picture is of a man plowing with a water buffalo in a field alongside the interstate.

February 28th: Firecrackers and Chopsticks

Thankfully, I was already awake when the first explosion of firecrackers went off at 7:30 this morning. Not just one or two tossed by passing students—this was a whole carton of blackcats, or more. Fifteen minutes later I heard another round; it sounded pretty close. I heard the boom of fireworks about eight. I know this is the day of the Lantern festival, the last day of the spring festival holidays, and everyone returns to work and school tomorrow, but who can even see fireworks at eight on a cloudy Sunday morning?

As I was getting ready to go out, Frank, our waibon, came by. I finally had the chance to tell him about my broken desk chair and to ask again about when the internet will be set up. He took the IP address for my computer; he said he’ll work on it. Hopefully soon; I’m going through facebook withdrawal. I know everyone’s wondering what’s going on; I haven’t even checked my email since Wednesday night. This is the longest I’ve gone without talking to Billy Wayne since we started dating.

I went out with the Pratts, and we met up with other friends at Casey and Tabby’s house. We spent some time together there, and then Dale, another American teacher, took us to a nearby restaurant and helped us order lunch. Yet again, the meal was good, although it wasn’t any of my favorite dishes. We had lotus root fixed a novel way for us, a chicken and greens dish, corn with a bit of bell pepper in it, spring rolls, and a hotpot of potatoes with a bit of pork—we had to watch out with that one; there were bits of chili pepper in the mix. I accidentally ate a large piece and it took a glass of orange juice, a spring roll, and half a bowl of rice before I could get the numbness out of my mouth. Other than the occasional mouth-numbing pepper seed and the bits of cooked ginger, which I can eat but am not crazy about, everything we’ve eaten has been wonderful. Everyone raved about the food in China before I came, and now I believe them.

I had only used chopsticks two or three times before moving here, and never for an entire meal. I was afraid I would have a hard time with that, but it hasn’t been a problem at all. When you hold them the right way, they aren’t too difficult to manage. I still am a little slow sometimes trying to serve myself from a bowl to my plate, but other than that it’s just clicked.

I know most people think I’m a bit crazy for moving off to China, but I love the adventure of it. I need to be challenged in life—moving to a new country is certainly a good way to do that. I love exploring a new city, finding my way around, looking for new possibilities. Now you’ll know I’m crazy—I even like moving. I love being a new place and figuring out what to do with it. How should I arrange the furniture, should I paint, where should I hang these pictures? I love the process of settling in and making a place mine.

I know there will be days that I get frustrated living here in China, but I’m still in the honeymoon phase right now. Everything is still new and exciting.

The top picture is the view from my kitchen window; the bottom one is my sunroom. 

February 27th: Teaching schedule!

The Pratts—Colonel, Kelly, and their children Cyprus and Aolani—finally arrived late last night. They were supposed to be on my flight on Wednesday, but their plane out of Chicago was canceled, and they’ve had a time being shuffled around for two extra days to get here. And I thought my trip was long!

All of us English teachers here at the East campus met up at 10:00 to go and get our class schedules for this semester. Once we arrived at the building across campus and waited a bit, they produced a stack of schedules. We spread them out across the desk and compared them, and then picked which we wanted. Those teaching oral classes have eight classes a week; those teaching writing have only four, since the writing classes involve a lot of time outside of class reading essays and correcting papers. I volunteered to take one of the writing schedules, since I’m used to teaching English. Most of the others who haven’t taught before would prefer the oral classes, but I think the writing classes actually will be easier for me. I’d rather have something concrete to work on than try to keep a discussion going for two hours.

My schedule is quite interesting—I have five days a week off! I have a class on Monday at two, and then three classes on Friday at eight, ten, and two. All are the same sophomore writing class, so I’ll just have one lesson to prepare each week. Fridays will be tiring, but I think it will be worth it to have such a flexible schedule on other days. I’ll have about 120 writing assignments to read each week, though.

After getting our schedules, a bunch of us went for lunch together at a little restaurant near the school. Tabby and Casey were with us, and Tabby speaks Chinese pretty well, so she ordered everything for us. In China, a group meal is different from what we are used to in the states. Everyone sits around a round table with a huge lazy Susan in the middle. Each person has their own bowl and chopsticks, and hot water is served to drink. (You can bring your own drink in from outside if you wish; someone ran and got a bottle of orange juice from the supermarket down the street). Each person doesn’t order a meal for themselves; instead, the group orders together, as many dishes as there are people. The waitress puts all the dishes on the lazy susan, and then everyone shares them, eating a helping of this and a helping of that, family-style. It’s a great way to try a lot of different kinds of food, since we had eleven dishes on the table. All of them were good—sweet and sour pork, spring rolls, fried eggplant, fried corn, carrots and pork, chicken and tomatoes, lotus root, and more that I can’t remember.

In the afternoon, I went with Casey and Tabby to take the Pratts, who had just arrived the night before, to RT Mart to get some groceries and basic things for their apartment. We took two taxis. The taxis are pretty cheap—only about $1.30 each way, nearly nothing when divided among three or four people. I got a few more things for my apartment—another plant, a few little cacti, a couple of plates, some knives, some brilliantly green and gold pillows for the couch, and a set of sheets. It’s beginning to look like a home in here; I figure if I’m going to be here all year I might as well nest a bit.

In the evening, we met the McFarlands, and Evelyn went with Tabby, Kelly, Aolani, and me to a dinner at the house of a Chinese woman. We had a ladies’ night with a good group of Chinese friends. Some of them are students or professors at my university, so hopefully I will run into them again on campus.
When I got back to my apartment, not too late—just 7:45, I thought I would get some more cleaning done and do some more laundry. However, I felt tired as soon as I sat down, so I read for a little while and then ended up going to bed at nine. It must be the jet lag, but I’ve been a morning person ever since I arrived—I laze around in the evening and go to bed early, but wake up early and energetic. Most of my cleaning has been done first thing in the morning. It’s very unlike me—I’m a night owl! Usually, I accomplish very little of note before noon, and my most productive time is at night. I’m sure it’ll pass in time...

The Chinese cities are mostly concrete; the buildings themselves are rather drab and utilitarian. However, they liberally decorate with light. I have seen fireworks every day I have been here so far (of course, it is still the spring festival). Not just a few bottle rockets; big, booming, fourth-of-July fireworks. Even when it’s raining. Even during the day. And several of the larger hotels—and the police headquarters—are outlined with intricate neon lights. Nightly, beacons of colored light sweep the sky from the rooftop of a building across the moat.

February 26th: Cleaning and Pizza Hut

I spent the morning cleaning. Some steel wool and Mr. Muscle did wonders with the kitchen. I don’t think anyone’s ever cleaned the vent over the stove—it was sticky with grease.

In the afternoon, I met up with Roanne, Lindsay, Keith, and Jason, and we went next door to meet another new American teachers who had just arrived, Sean. All of us plus one of the Japanese teachers, Tiami (I’m not sure how you spell it) went to Shashi. Shashi (pronounced Shah-sure) was once a separate town, but now is part of Jingzhou, and it is where many of the modern shopping centers and such are. Our campus is between that area and the old center of Jingzhou.

We got out of our taxis near a square where all the American imports are crammed together—the Pizza Hut and KFC are across the street from the McDonalds and the Wal-mart. These are some of the more expensive restaurants here in China—Pizza Hut, especially, is the kind of fancy place where people go on special occasions. We were surprised to find, on a Friday night, that the wait for a table was only fifteen minutes; Keith assured us that it is usually longer. The menu was a bit more extensive than the Pizza Huts in the states. The waitress said that they were out of large pizzas (???), so we ordered several mediums. I think the pizza was better here than at home—I normally don’t care for Pizza Hut’s too-sweet sauce, but they didn’t have too much on these.

After we ate, we of course went to Wal-mart. It’s not exactly like a Wal-mart in the states, but it’s not bad. I got more things for my apartment—I finally found some picture frames, and a pot and skillet for the kitchen, and a second towel, etc.

February 25th: Settling In

I spent the morning cleaning and unpacking. In the afternoon, Keith and Jason took all of us newcomers out to RT Mart, a large Taiwanese Wal-mart-like store. I got several things I needed for the apartment, and enough groceries to be able to cook a couple of meals.

In the evening, Roanne, Lindsay, and I ventured out in search of food. We wandered down a street near the campus and stopped at one of the first little restaurants we saw. We went in, and Lindsay used a small dictionary to try to order something for us. The woman finally took us outside to look at the bins of vegetables and dried meats, and we pointed out a few things that we liked. She cooked us a proper meal despite our bumbling—our favorite was a carrots and pork dish. Our first solo dining experience was a success.

Traveling

Hello everyone! Well, several people requested that I keep a blog about my life in China. I’m going to give it a try, but I’m warning you now...I’m really bad about starting out strong on a blog and then after a couple of months forgetting to update very often. I’ll try my best not to let that happen, but if I do and you want more updates, leave a comment or email me and remind me!

I left from the Nashville airport on February 22nd. I checked in my bags, and then spent a little time with my family and Billy Wayne, taking silly pictures. My flight was at 2:45, and that was the start of a long but thankfully uneventful journey—I first flew to Dallas, where I met up with several friends, then we flew on to San Francisco. The flight from Dallas to San Francisco was great—I had a window, and I could see the Rocky mountains in the moonlight below. Those of you who know me know how I am about mountains—no quicker way to make me happy than put me on a mountaintop with a view. And then finally I saw the lights of the city--as we came in to land, we flew low over San Francisco bay, and I think I saw the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. After a four hour layover, we took a midnight flight for Hong Kong. The transpacific flight was fourteen hours, but I don’t mind flying. It may sound like torture, but really, it’s not bad at all. We were fed a meal about an hour after takeoff (one AM, so I’m not sure which meal that supposed to be), and then I slept for a few hours, as did most people on the flight. About halfway through most people started waking up. I meant to get some reading done, but I spent most of the rest of the flight watching several episodes of CSI on the little screen on the back of the seat in front of me. International flights these days are great—a choice of dozens of movies, tv shows, music, games, even a language program on which I did practice a few Chinese phrases. Fourteen hours, and I still didn’t see the movie I wanted to see! Anyhow, we landed in Hong Kong at 6:30 in the morning. We had crossed the international date line, so it was now Wednesday, February 24th. From the Hong Kong runway, I could see the Pacific Ocean on one side, and steep green hills on the other. In one day, I saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life, and I saw it from both shores. We took a two-hour flight from Hong Kong to Wuhan, the capital of the Hubei province in central China, and we were finally on the ground to stay.

In Wuhan, I was happy to see that all of our luggage had made it. I always dread getting my bags for fear that one or all of them has been lost somewhere along the way. I’ve never had a bag completely lost, but I’ve had several delayed somewhere and delivered a few days later. No such problems this time! In the airport, I separated from the group I traveled with, as they were either staying in Wuhan or flying on somewhere else. I was met at the door by Frank, the waibon (person from the university in charge of the foreign teachers) from my university, and two other girls who were also new teachers. Lindsay is from Chicago, and Roanne is from England. The four of us loaded into a small bus belonging to the university, and we drove nearly four hours to our city, Jingzhou. This was our first look at the Chinese countryside. In fields along the way, water buffalo roamed free; before long, I saw several farmers plowing small fields with water buffalo. The houses along the way were still decorated with red banners around the doorways, in celebration of the Chinese New Year, which was last week.

We finally got into Jingzhou about 1:30 in the afternoon. Altogether, it took thirty-seven hours to get from my parents’ house in Columbia to my new apartment in Jingzhou.

Not long after we arrived, Keith and Jason, two American teachers who have been here since August, came to meet us. We went down to Frank’s office, where we met Casey and Tabby, a couple from Tennessee who are in their fourth year here in Jingzhou. They live on another campus, but Casey teaches a few classes on this one, too. Frank took us all to eat at a restaurant down the street. First, they gave us all bowls of some sort of bean milk soup, which was new even to those who have been here a few years. We all sipped at it politely, but it was nothing special. I wasn’t very hungry, but I had some fried rice. After we ate, Frank walked around with us and helped Lindsay change some money at the bank, and found an ATM where Roanne and I could use our cards to get some Chinese money.

After that, Keith took us to a nearby grocery store to get some basic food and cleaning supplies. Once I got back to my apartment, I started to unpack and do a little cleaning.

I like my new apartment. I’ll post some pictures; it’s easier than trying to explain it all. The door from the stairwell opens into a hallway; on the right is first the bedroom and then the living room. At the end is the kitchen. On the left are the doors to the small room with the toilet and the bathroom with the tub, sink, and washing machine. Off of the living room there is a door to the sunroom—a glassed-in balcony. It is quite large; it wraps around two sides of the living room, as I have a corner apartment. At the end of the sunroom is a rod for hanging clothes to dry. The hallway, bedroom, and living room have a wood floor, and the rest is tiled. The furniture maybe isn’t exactly my style, but it all matches and I like it pretty well. The apartment needs a good, thorough cleaning, but I should have it looking presentable in a few days.

Despite only having a few hours of sleep on the plane, I managed to stay awake until eight. I woke up at four in the morning with a headache, but after about an hour I managed to go back to sleep and slept until seven.

Train to the Future

Today, I am on a train to Rapallo, near Genova.  Matteo and I are going to spend a few days with Nadia and her family at their house by the sea.  I've finally come out from under the clouds that covered Milan, and it is a beautiful evening here in the mountains we're crossing—or, we would be if we weren't mostly in tunnels.   Matteo will stay until Saturday; I will probably return to Milan Wednesday evening or Thursday morning.   I have things I need to work on before going to the convegno in Firenze next week.  It's a little strange—while writing this I keep thinking in Italian and translating back into English. 

I can't get out of my head today the book I just read—A Touch of Betrayal by Catherine Palmer.   It's one of series of four, of which Tammy has and I borrow the second and third.   I read the second first, but the third one I read twice because I wasn't ready to get out of the story yet.  I think the titles of her books are a little overdramatic, but I enjoyed the stories.  The books are Christian romance novels, which I love, even though I don't always want to admit that, being a serious former English major and all, that I like such fluff.  But, it's wonderful just to read for the pleasure and escapism of it, something I just don't do as much as I used to. 

It's wonderful, too, to read books written about people who live in my "real world," –people who follow a code of morality and whose relationship with God is a part of day-to-day life   It's something refreshing to me in today's culture where God and spiritual things are completely left out of popular entertainment.  I wish we were more open to talk about our spiritual lives.  That's probably the most important reason I have for wanting a husband someday—I want someone to be mutually accountable with, someone to pray with, to talk about my spiritual ups and downs, to encourage each other.   I want to raise my children to be truly integrated—not to compartmentalize spirituality from other aspects of life; I know I often have.  Growing up, it seemed we so rarely talked about our faith.  We prayed together at meals, but almost never at any other times.  I want to be more comfortable sharing that part of life together.   I'm hoping things will be different now that Dad also had become a Christian,  We need to take advantage of the spiritual high the family is on now to talk more openly.  It's also something I need to put into my work here in a much bigger way.   I'm more of a project person—I plan things, do thing, teach—but I'm not as good at building deeper relationships.  I get along well with everybody, but often at a fairly superficial level.   I need to find a way to work in more discussion of where people are spiritually and their highs and lows; I need to work towards more meaningful conversation.  It is difficult when I only see most of the church members briefly after the service on Sunday.   I need to make it a priority to find a way to spend more time with individuals outside of church activities; I would like to invited people over to my place for lunch, but I haven't yet as I didn't know if people would really want to come all the way out to my place; it's out of the way for most of my friends.  But, maybe they would. 

Back to the book I mentioned earlier—the series is set in various parts of Africa, and is about three sisters and a brother, as adults; as they find love, find God, etc.  My head has been in Africa all day.  I would love to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro.  Now, there is a motivation to get in shape!  Grant, the man in the story, is an anthropologist living with the Maasai; he is studying their stories and myths, and trying to write down all these important parts of the heritage before the children all go off to the city and the ancient culture is lost.  It sounds like a wonderful work.  I've though the last few years that I would go back to grad school, and then teach English literature.   But, it seems so meaningless in the grand scheme of things, to be wrapped up in the minutiae of academia.  I want to be involved in missions; I would like to study languages, cultures—to travel.  And yet, somehow it seems selfish or unwise to live my life like I want to live it.  What I really want to do is, after next summer when I finish my commitment here in Milan, is to find somewhere else to go to teach English (or whatever other job is available), and learn another language.  I think I could learn Spanish fairly easily, now that I speak Italian—I can already understand it pretty well.  I was reading online the other day that English teachers can earn quite a bit of money in Korea.   However, I really need better certification.   And, I don't know if I'm brave enough to move to Asia, to a country I've never seen, with such a very different culture.   But, somehow, I would like to learn another language, and I want to travel. 

There are people who save up some money, and then just go travel—backpack around the world.   Why not me?  Then I think—it would be more responsible to get a job, earn money, settle down—but why?  You only live once.  The only thing really stopping me is wondering what mom will say.   Everybody will think I'm crazy—but I just want to be free.   And I don't have a husband or children, my parents are still young and in good health—so to who is it irresponsible?  But how do those who backpack find the money to do it?  I, so far in life, haven't been very good at making money.  But it has been worth it—I wouldn't trade the time I've spent doing mission work in Italy for a high paying but lifeless job in an office.   Somehow, I want to see the world.  And then, after a few more years, I do want to marry and have children.  I often feel that biological clock ticking—the older I get, the more I look forward to having children.   I've come across several websites on homeschooling lately—it's something I'm very interested in.  

And then there's finding someone to marry.  Reading these romance books make me wonder if I'll ever find anyone to feel that strongly about to feel that way about me.  I daydream, but in reality—I'm not the type you find in romance novels   I know God has a plan for me, and that he will send the right person into my life, so it isn't something that I spend a lot of time really worrying about.  It's just that sometimes I feel lonely for someone I haven't met yet.   Usually I'm fine—I'm happy being single, and I'm not at a point where I want to settle down.   But sometimes—it seems to be about a month out of the year or so—when it seems I feel lonely more than usual.  It hasn't been too bad yet this year (it was downright depressing last year, around May), but still I want someone to talk to, to tell all those little details of everyday life.  I can talk to Mom about most things, but as close as we are, there are still things she doesn't understand—some, because we are of different generations, and some because I live in a different culture.  She doesn't know the people I know or how they think, or the ups and downs of life as a missionary.  And besides, it's expensive to call the U.S.!

My Dad!

Hello everyone! Over the years, I've talked a lot about my Dad, and I know many of you have prayed with me that some day, he would find God and become a Christian. Well, that day finally came! On Sunday, June 8, he was baptized. Of course, my entire family is ecstatic! He's been searching for many years now, and he's finally decided to take that step. My mother said that she just finds herself laughing, she's so happy. She's been praying for him for thirty-two years now (the time they were dating, and the twenty-nine years they've been married). Thanks to all of you who have prayed for him over the years, and please keep praying now as he begins this new life!

Happy New Year!

Hello everyone! I hope everyone is having a good new year. For New Year's Eve (called Capodanno here, the cap of the year), we had a party at the church building. We brought food and ate together, both the traditional lenticche and cotacchino (lentils and some sort of pork) as well as a potluck assortment of other meat and side dishes. Eating together with the church is often interesting here--the congregation is so multicultural (there's typically at least nine nationalities represented on a Sunday morning) that at potlucks you might try various recipes from all over the world--Chinese pasta, a type of rice dish from Ghana, American hamburgers, etc. I took some chips and dip as well as my favorite pumpkin muffins.

After we ate, we played some games and had a bit of a talent show, or as Lewis put it, a talent-less show. The highlight of this was Mario, who was once the Italian roller-skating champion, and now twenty years later is still quite comfortable on wheels. We also wrote down how to say 'Hello, how are you?' in all the languages represented. (See photo). Then we spent some time singing together, and then prayed together as the new year began.

After getting the new year off to a good start, the first three weeks of January were rainy and dreary. It didn't rain to hard, but a good steady drizzle for three weeks will drive you crazy. We did get a good snow one, about the same time it snowed a bit there, and it was quite beautiful for a few hours, but after two days of snow, it changed back to rain so we had mostly slush. Finally, about a week ago, the sun came out again and the weather has been wonderful the last week, sunny and actually clear enough (doesn't happen often with the incredible smog here) to see the Alps in the distance several days in a row. I have included here a picture from my balcony from the first day I could see the mountains, once the trees finally lost enough leaves. I've never seen them quite so clearly again. It always amazes me on the few clear days we can see the Alps from here--they aren't far at all. How in the world can we not always see those huge mountains that are right there?? But, with the smog, it's a rare day that you would know there were mountains at all. The three weeks of gloom, I certainly have appreciated the sun this week. I now understand why people get seasonal affective disorder.