Friday, July 31, 2009
Cute Dogs
When I see Chinese people who own small, cute dogs on leashes, (and the dogs aren’t pooping), I try to smile real big at the cute, little dog, and then at the dog owner, in that order. This seems to get good responses from the owner. They usually smile back very proudly of their cute little dog. And we’re all happy.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Another train ride
My room-mate Ani and I recently took a sleeper train from Changsha to Shenzhen. The final destination was Hong Kong, but from Shenzhen, you can walk across the border into Hong Kong.
Ani and I both had tickets for the bottom bunk of the car (there are three levels to these bunk beds.) One of the other people in our car had a 7 month old baby. She had a bunk at the top. My room-mate is a compassionate person and offered to give her bunk to the mother with the 7 month old baby. To show her gratitude, this mother started to offer us "snacks." The first snack was spicy chicken feet. I tried to refuse her offer by saying I had brushed my teeth already (which was true.) The lady pointed out that there was a sink right on the train where I could brush my teeth again. I tried to refuse again; she insisted. So--I slowly masticated the spicy chicken foot and reconsidered becoming a vegetarian this coming school year.
Then, the lady gave us 2 jars of mandarin slices in a sweet, tangy juice. Now--this snack was quite a bit more palatable, and I took a big gulp of the juice trying to wash away the spicy chicken foot flavor.
But--the most expensive gift was yet to come. The lady started to rummage through her back-pack. She pulled out a big can of baby powder before finding what she was looking for. . . Chinese perfume. Perfume in China is still quite a novelty, and I think that most of it is quite expensive. So, when she handed us two small spray bottles of this perfume, we both felt quite uncomfortable and unsure of how to refuse or accept this gift.
But, Ani explained to me in English that this lady was trying to show us her appreciation for Ani's switching bunks with her, and that to accept her gifts would help the mother feel better about the inconvenience. So, we graciously accepted the perfume, the chicken feet, and the canned fruit. Another exchange on our part was that we let the mother take pictures of us holding her little baby, although it was our pleasure as this little baby was so good-natured and smiled a lot at us.
Never a dull train ride.
Ani and I both had tickets for the bottom bunk of the car (there are three levels to these bunk beds.) One of the other people in our car had a 7 month old baby. She had a bunk at the top. My room-mate is a compassionate person and offered to give her bunk to the mother with the 7 month old baby. To show her gratitude, this mother started to offer us "snacks." The first snack was spicy chicken feet. I tried to refuse her offer by saying I had brushed my teeth already (which was true.) The lady pointed out that there was a sink right on the train where I could brush my teeth again. I tried to refuse again; she insisted. So--I slowly masticated the spicy chicken foot and reconsidered becoming a vegetarian this coming school year.
Then, the lady gave us 2 jars of mandarin slices in a sweet, tangy juice. Now--this snack was quite a bit more palatable, and I took a big gulp of the juice trying to wash away the spicy chicken foot flavor.
But--the most expensive gift was yet to come. The lady started to rummage through her back-pack. She pulled out a big can of baby powder before finding what she was looking for. . . Chinese perfume. Perfume in China is still quite a novelty, and I think that most of it is quite expensive. So, when she handed us two small spray bottles of this perfume, we both felt quite uncomfortable and unsure of how to refuse or accept this gift.
But, Ani explained to me in English that this lady was trying to show us her appreciation for Ani's switching bunks with her, and that to accept her gifts would help the mother feel better about the inconvenience. So, we graciously accepted the perfume, the chicken feet, and the canned fruit. Another exchange on our part was that we let the mother take pictures of us holding her little baby, although it was our pleasure as this little baby was so good-natured and smiled a lot at us.
Never a dull train ride.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Spaghetti Supper
I have a lot in common with one of my Chinese teachers from this past year of study. We are the same height, the same age, and share the same profession. We are both soft-spoken and probably could stand to have about 5 times more self-confidence.
Today, I cooked spaghetti for this particular teacher. I’m not a novice cook, so the odds of the spaghetti turning out are 50/50. But tonight, it was delicious, and I felt happy. My teacher ate slowly and used chopsticks while my room-mate and I used forks and shoveled it in then waited somewhat awkwardly while our friend seemed to be savoring every bite. After supper, we all enjoyed watermelon slices and some home-made chocolate candy. I felt happy. I offered to send the left-overs home with my teacher; she accepted right away, and I felt happy.
I walked my teacher part of the way home alongside the Xiang Jiang River. It was one of those walks where we seemed to be moving backwards. We weaved side to side, stopped at least several times to look at the nighttime skyline, and debated the safest route for me to take home. We also talked about our lives, encouraged each other, and listened well. We shared little stories from our pasts and some dreams we have about the future. And I felt happy. Finally a group of middle school students interrupted our conversation to practice their English with me. I spoke some Chinese with them; they said my Chinese was good. I said that it wasn't that good, but that I had a good teacher; my teacher blushed, and I felt happy.
Today, I cooked spaghetti for this particular teacher. I’m not a novice cook, so the odds of the spaghetti turning out are 50/50. But tonight, it was delicious, and I felt happy. My teacher ate slowly and used chopsticks while my room-mate and I used forks and shoveled it in then waited somewhat awkwardly while our friend seemed to be savoring every bite. After supper, we all enjoyed watermelon slices and some home-made chocolate candy. I felt happy. I offered to send the left-overs home with my teacher; she accepted right away, and I felt happy.
I walked my teacher part of the way home alongside the Xiang Jiang River. It was one of those walks where we seemed to be moving backwards. We weaved side to side, stopped at least several times to look at the nighttime skyline, and debated the safest route for me to take home. We also talked about our lives, encouraged each other, and listened well. We shared little stories from our pasts and some dreams we have about the future. And I felt happy. Finally a group of middle school students interrupted our conversation to practice their English with me. I spoke some Chinese with them; they said my Chinese was good. I said that it wasn't that good, but that I had a good teacher; my teacher blushed, and I felt happy.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Trip to Xi'an
Okay--I finally made the trip to Xi'an to see some of the famous sights of China.
Here I am at the terra cotta warriors. If you want to see more pictures, just let me know.
Reflections from a friend
I recently got back from a trip up to Inner Mongolia to visit some friends from my very first summer in China. It was refreshing to be in the North of China for many reasons. Among the main reasons were my friends themselves. It's amazing how after three years, we still had plenty to talk about and have grown in intimacy with each other. This group of friends are middle school and High School English teachers. I was there English teacher three years ago for a glorious 5 weeks during their summer vacation. Being with them again, reminded me of why I enjoyed them so much. I'll try to share little stories here on my blog as they come to mind. But let me start with a short story of Daniel (name change).
My friend Daniel, a 50 year old teacher whose family moved to Baotou from the south of China, perpetually brings a smile to my face. His English definitely is not perfect, but he speaks it so confidently and with ease, that I don't even notice some small grammar mistakes he might make. And, not only is he funny, but he's a very wise man.
Now, Mr. Daniel loves going to natural parks. He said that every Sunday, his wife and he will wake up at 5:00 to go to the particular park we were visiting. So, what activity should recommend for my time in Baotou but to visit the parks. This particular park was designed to look like the plains of Inner Mongolia. While we were walking in the park, Daniel told us that when his son was in the middle school, he was his teacher for one year. During that time, his son once called him "father" in class. The other students heard and started to laugh. Mr Daniel responded by saying to his son, "Shut up! You cannot call me father in school. You must call me teacher." It might not seem that funny in retelling the story, but if you could see the lethargic nature of which Mr. Daniel told this story, you would also laugh. I really can't even recall the story without smiling. After I laughed, Mr. David asked me, "Do you think this is a funny story?" Then, he probably said something like, "Now, please relax and have a seat under this tree.”
During a somewhat socially awkward lunch, with a mixing of about 7 people who didn’t know each other, the host and his son were talking in Chinese about tennis. I know very little about tennis no matter which language we are using. So, my student looked over at me and asked me if I had heard of "Andy Reddick" (I think). I said something like, “Isn’t he a tennis player?” (I was completely guessing.) They nodded that he was a tennis player and they seemed content with my knowledge of tennis; I guess I passed. Mr. Daniel, who was sitting right beside me and was not engaging in the tennis conversation either, said quietly to me, "Just now, I think that you are not that interested in tennis, am I right?" I agreed, and asked him how he could and tell. “You are very insightful into people’s feelings and interests,” I told him. He continued, "When this situation happens to me, I usually just listen without saying a word, and that way I can try to learn something.” He spoke these words almost as though he were reading it from Proverbs. Thank you for the reminder Mr. Daniel. An incredibly wise, man.
My friend Daniel, a 50 year old teacher whose family moved to Baotou from the south of China, perpetually brings a smile to my face. His English definitely is not perfect, but he speaks it so confidently and with ease, that I don't even notice some small grammar mistakes he might make. And, not only is he funny, but he's a very wise man.
Now, Mr. Daniel loves going to natural parks. He said that every Sunday, his wife and he will wake up at 5:00 to go to the particular park we were visiting. So, what activity should recommend for my time in Baotou but to visit the parks. This particular park was designed to look like the plains of Inner Mongolia. While we were walking in the park, Daniel told us that when his son was in the middle school, he was his teacher for one year. During that time, his son once called him "father" in class. The other students heard and started to laugh. Mr Daniel responded by saying to his son, "Shut up! You cannot call me father in school. You must call me teacher." It might not seem that funny in retelling the story, but if you could see the lethargic nature of which Mr. Daniel told this story, you would also laugh. I really can't even recall the story without smiling. After I laughed, Mr. David asked me, "Do you think this is a funny story?" Then, he probably said something like, "Now, please relax and have a seat under this tree.”
During a somewhat socially awkward lunch, with a mixing of about 7 people who didn’t know each other, the host and his son were talking in Chinese about tennis. I know very little about tennis no matter which language we are using. So, my student looked over at me and asked me if I had heard of "Andy Reddick" (I think). I said something like, “Isn’t he a tennis player?” (I was completely guessing.) They nodded that he was a tennis player and they seemed content with my knowledge of tennis; I guess I passed. Mr. Daniel, who was sitting right beside me and was not engaging in the tennis conversation either, said quietly to me, "Just now, I think that you are not that interested in tennis, am I right?" I agreed, and asked him how he could and tell. “You are very insightful into people’s feelings and interests,” I told him. He continued, "When this situation happens to me, I usually just listen without saying a word, and that way I can try to learn something.” He spoke these words almost as though he were reading it from Proverbs. Thank you for the reminder Mr. Daniel. An incredibly wise, man.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Quick Run to the Post Office
There is no such thing as a quick trip to the Post Office here in China. I have grown to dread these trips. I tried to alleviate the severity of the discomfort today by going to a different post office other than the one that’s closest to our house. At the post office closest to our house, the workers are pretty consistently rude and speak in an unintelligible dialect while making fun of our Chinese. In an attempt to avoid their rudeness, I went to the post office that is nearly half a mile from our apartment.
Today, there was only one worker at this post office. Usually, there are at least two or three workers. I approached her with my first objective. To mail two teddy bears to a team-mate in the States. She helped me get a box and gave me the estimate of how much money it would be to mail it. I had approximately 244 kuai on me and 4 mao. She mumbled that it would be 200 something to mail the package, but I couldn’t hear what she said very clearly. I asked her again; this time another indecipherable dollar amount. So, I assumed that I would have enough money and started to fill out the form to mail the package. After filling out the form and writing the address on the box, she calculated the total and this time, she said the amount very clearly-- 270 yuan. I told her that I didn’t have enough money, and I told her that I had not understood what she said the first two times. The boy next to me offered to foot me the money, but I knew that was not a good option. So, I asked her if I could run home, get the money, and come back. She reluctantly agreed. It was about 95 degrees outside at this time and a little uncomfortable, but I just chalked it up to exercise.
After returning with the money, the boy who had offered to give me the money was still at the post office. He commented that I was fast, and I deflected the compliment and paid the money. Then, I asked the postal worker to help me with my second task, mailing a letter to America. After getting the right-sized envelope, I began to write the address on the front of the envelope, including my Chinese address (in characters) on the top left hand of the letter. I was proud of myself for using the Chinese characters. After I finished, the postal worker took one look at the envelope and shook her head. Now, I know that in China you write the return address and the address in different places than we do in the States, but I had assumed that since this envelope was going to America, I could use the American system.
However, no such luck. She had me re-write the envelope and this time, she clearly explained what address should go where. I finished writing the addresses which take some time when as one of them was in Chinese. As I handed it to her, she looked satisfied and took the envelope. Then, I saw her stamp the front of the envelope. She gasped, and then tried to erase the red stamp. I knew that she had used the wrong stamp on the envelope, and I also guessed the correct outcome. She sheepishly handed me another blank envelope, and didn’t even have to ask me to re-write the addresses. After writing the addresses for the third time, we had success on both ends. I paid the fee, and told her in Chinese, “Thank you for your diligence with me.” I think she smiled a little bit. It was now about one hour and 45 minutes after the time I had first left the apartment for the post office. And with that dear Friends, you may not be getting any letters from me this year.
Today, there was only one worker at this post office. Usually, there are at least two or three workers. I approached her with my first objective. To mail two teddy bears to a team-mate in the States. She helped me get a box and gave me the estimate of how much money it would be to mail it. I had approximately 244 kuai on me and 4 mao. She mumbled that it would be 200 something to mail the package, but I couldn’t hear what she said very clearly. I asked her again; this time another indecipherable dollar amount. So, I assumed that I would have enough money and started to fill out the form to mail the package. After filling out the form and writing the address on the box, she calculated the total and this time, she said the amount very clearly-- 270 yuan. I told her that I didn’t have enough money, and I told her that I had not understood what she said the first two times. The boy next to me offered to foot me the money, but I knew that was not a good option. So, I asked her if I could run home, get the money, and come back. She reluctantly agreed. It was about 95 degrees outside at this time and a little uncomfortable, but I just chalked it up to exercise.
After returning with the money, the boy who had offered to give me the money was still at the post office. He commented that I was fast, and I deflected the compliment and paid the money. Then, I asked the postal worker to help me with my second task, mailing a letter to America. After getting the right-sized envelope, I began to write the address on the front of the envelope, including my Chinese address (in characters) on the top left hand of the letter. I was proud of myself for using the Chinese characters. After I finished, the postal worker took one look at the envelope and shook her head. Now, I know that in China you write the return address and the address in different places than we do in the States, but I had assumed that since this envelope was going to America, I could use the American system.
However, no such luck. She had me re-write the envelope and this time, she clearly explained what address should go where. I finished writing the addresses which take some time when as one of them was in Chinese. As I handed it to her, she looked satisfied and took the envelope. Then, I saw her stamp the front of the envelope. She gasped, and then tried to erase the red stamp. I knew that she had used the wrong stamp on the envelope, and I also guessed the correct outcome. She sheepishly handed me another blank envelope, and didn’t even have to ask me to re-write the addresses. After writing the addresses for the third time, we had success on both ends. I paid the fee, and told her in Chinese, “Thank you for your diligence with me.” I think she smiled a little bit. It was now about one hour and 45 minutes after the time I had first left the apartment for the post office. And with that dear Friends, you may not be getting any letters from me this year.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Photos for the faithful
Hey there readers.
Yes, blogspot is still blocked in China, but my friends helped me figure out how to beat the system. Check out my most recent pictures from my trip to Baotou, in Inner Mongolia. All the teachers in these photos are from my first summer teaching English in China. It's amazing how three years has done nothing to dull the friendship or the ease with which I'm able to communicate with these friends. They are definitely a big reason why I decided to come back to China after that first summer.
Copy and paste this link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/chinatripchinatripchinatrip/2009Baotou#
Yes, blogspot is still blocked in China, but my friends helped me figure out how to beat the system. Check out my most recent pictures from my trip to Baotou, in Inner Mongolia. All the teachers in these photos are from my first summer teaching English in China. It's amazing how three years has done nothing to dull the friendship or the ease with which I'm able to communicate with these friends. They are definitely a big reason why I decided to come back to China after that first summer.
Copy and paste this link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/chinatripchinatripchinatrip/2009Baotou#
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