connie's space

(This piece was published in the Christian Science Monitor’s Home Forum section, December 3, 2004. Thought it was appropriate for today’s entry, before Christmas. Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!)

       My Christmas stockings have followed me around the world.  No matter what teaching position I’ve held overseas, my mother always mailed mine early enough so that I’d be able to adhere to our family’s Christmas day tradition of opening stockings before breakfast.   

       I consider the opening of my Christmas stocking a sacred holiday tradition.  Never would I open my stocking before Christmas.  But I have learned that breaking a tradition can sometimes be more meaningful than keeping one

            My first overseas teaching position was at the YWCA (Young Women’s Christian Association)  in Kyoto, Japan.   Aside from teaching English classes, I assisted the staff with various YWCA programs, including all the holiday events crowded into December. Yet it was the ladies’ Christmas luncheon which would require the most preparation on my part.  I’d been invited to be the guest speaker and introduce American Christmas customs to the guests.  This was quite a task, considering most of the women attending were not Christians nor familiar with even the most common Yuletide traditions of my country.   With this thought in mind, I began planning how best to give the ladies an understanding of Christmas in a mere 20-minute presentation.  

            A few days before the luncheon, my first overseas Christmas stocking from my mother made a timely arrival.  It was beautifully made from old quilt pieces sewn together by a local seamstress she had commissioned just for this occasion.  The goodies inside threatened to burst the seams and I anticipated the coming of Christmas morning when I could finally be able to see what wonderful things my mother had stuffed inside. 

             It logically followed that my Christmas stocking make an appearance in the YWCA program.  Seeing such a traditional American holiday itemwas bound to impress the Japanese ladies, and having a genuine one to show would make my presentation all the more memorable.    

            On the day of the luncheon, over 100 YWCA members filled the small hall.  After a light meal, I was introduced to begin the program.  One by one, I brought out various Christmas items to show the women seated around me.  When I sensed everyone was at an emotional high, I dramatically pulled out my Christmas stocking.   

            The reaction was just as I had hoped.  Delighted exclamations filled the room.  Everyone was taken by the beauty and uniqueness of the holiday stocking my mother had sent from America.  But what fascinated them the most was my explanation of stuffing the stocking and then opening it on Christmas morning.   

When my program ended, I thanked the ladies for their invitation, wished them a Merry Christmas and sat down.  A strange silence followed.  No one clapped.  No one spoke. No one moved.  People were obviously waiting for something, but what?

            Kawabata-san, the YWCA director, quickly approached the platform.

  “Connie did a wonderful program for us today,” she announced.  “I think we all learned many things, but maybe now she will show us what is in the Christmas sock?”

Kawabata-san smiled.  The ladies brightened.  I panicked.  

My reluctance signaled one of the Americans in the group to come to my rescue.  She proposed I leave the room, allow her to open my stocking for everyone to see and then give her time to repack it again before I returned.  

It was a brilliant solution.  

Kawabata-san escorted me outside of the room where I stood by the door, awaiting permission to rejoin the group.  Inside, I heard comments in Japanese arise as my stocking’s contents were revealed.  

“How cute!”  

“How delicious!” 

“What a good mother!”    

            When I re-entered the room, I was relieved to see my stocking was exactly as I had left it, but I noticed a change in the ladies now facing me.  They realized that the Christmas stocking itself was not the remarkable thing they had at first imagined.  All those knick-knacks crammed inside did not warrant much fuss or attention.  It was the love that went into the preparation of the stocking that made the tradition so meaningful, and it was this understanding which had been passed on to them that day.

My overseas Christmas stocking has never since made another public appearance, but if my students in China were ever to ask me to share with them its contents, I would do so without hesitation.  My Christmas traditions are very important to me, but some traditions, I have found, can be just asmeaningful being broken as being kept.  

May your stockings be full, your hearts glad and your holiday gatherings blessed.

My mom continues with her weekly column in The Marshall Advocate, our local newspaper. She’s been in the Christmas spirit as we’ve been decorating with all our favorites. Numerous Christmas items from 5 separate bins have been emptied and placed inside the house and out. Each has found its special nook or cranny in my mom’s smaller house. So many memories!

In the newspaper’s December 11 issue, my mom shared her favorite tree ornaments, some new and others old, plus their stories and special meanings. Here I share her article with you.

Walk with Me by Priscilla Wieck

It is beginning to look like Christmas in our small mid-western town. During my daily walks this week I saw a lot of outside work being done. Some folks were finishing a late leaf raking in preparation for winter snows. Others were in the beginnings of stringing lights on roof eaves and hanging green garlands with red ribbons around lamp posts and on porches. Lighted trees sprouted up everywhere, inside and outside. It seemed to me that they made their appearance later than usual this year but that may be because at our house a Christmas tree was up and lighted the day after Thanksgiving.

For the past few years, decorating trees with various themes has become popular. We see Grinch trees, Disney trees, all one color trees, country trees ,whatever that makes a tree different . It seems that anything goes as long as it stands out from the others. For some people, Christmas trees have become the “eye candy” of the season featuring glitz , glitter and spectacle. For me, however, my tree has become a tree of memories and I enjoy a trip down memory lane with each bauble I hang on its branches.

When I moved into a smaller house, I downsized my Christmas tree ornaments and kept only the ones that had meaning for me. I’ll share with you some of the memories that the “keepers” invoke .

Two of my oldest ornaments are a 3 inch cardboard house partnered by a 4 inch cardboard church both with painted windows and doors covered in glitter.

 

When I place them on the tree each year I think of the church and parsonage in Massachusetts where I spent the first seven years of my life. They are always hang near a paper angel with foil wings that held the place of honor on the top on all of my childhood Christmas trees.

Each year I carefully remove from their cardboard nest of tissue , a dozen blown glass balls of various colors and designs that I purchased at Cauldwell’s Store the first year we lived in Marshall. The 1958 sticker price remains on the carton–$1.35. What fun it was to wander the aisles of that emporium!

Mildred Frazier, our former school librarian and good friend, gave me a tiny molded , painted wax angel with halo many years ago. She became my mentor and friend for my first years of teaching in Marshall. Lots of memories from those years!

There is a small composite lamb that daughter Connie placed on the church tree as part of a Christmas program when she was three years of age. It hangs near an intricately woven bamboo tree ornament that she brought from China along with a golden , red tasseled Buddha. It’s good to be able to share Christmas with her this year.

Sally Carpenter once gifted me with a lovely glass icicle that I place on my tree each year in her memory while saying a prayer of thanks for her many years of friendship .I miss her dearly.

One year, my former sister-in law sent me a little long nosed felt mouse with a granny cap that makes me smile every time I see it. We may never meet again in person, but I treasure the years spent with her in our family. 

A picture of my granddaughter, Meredith in a baby’s first Christmas frame is also a welcome sight each year and a reminder of how fast time passes. She is now 35.

More recently, I have added to my memory collection , a felted, fiber ornament in the shape of an alpaca made by a Sister Of Providence at the nearby St. Mary of the Woods College on the outskirts of West Terre Haute. It is a reminder of a visit to see the college’s alpacas with my brother and his wife when both were able to travel here.

I have too many Christmas tree memories to share them all in this column. This year I added two more. One, a white long bearded gnome(this is the year of the gnome ) was purchased last week on a shopping trip with Connie and the other is a glittery winged angel in traditional Guatamalian dress made in that country by the Louis Garcia family. These new additions will be entered in my time capsule, stored carefully away at the end of the season and welcomed back next year as the newest members in my Christmas Tree bank of memories.

“It’s not what’s under the Christmas tree that matters,it’s who is around it.”–Anon.

Peace

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Last weekend, my WeChat messages from Chinese friends and colleagues exploded into my account.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Connie!”

“Wishing you happiness!”

“Are you eating the turkey?”

The answer to the last text was definitely “yes.” This was apparent in my later picture postings that gave visuals of the quiet, simple Thanksgiving Day celebrations my mom and I enjoyed. While a full turkey wasn’t exactly on our menu, a turkey breast sufficed. We further downsized the meal, adding sweet potato fries rather than the full-versioned candied yams.

One surprising Thanksgiving Day message came from my Chinese church choir in Luzhou.

The above, dated November 25 2021, translates as follows:

“Happy Thanksgiving! God’s Grace.

“Thessalonians 5: 16 – 18 Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

This was posted in the sopranos WeChat group by one of the faithful members who wanted to send me blessings for this, my American holiday. Excitement soon followed.

Ming Ming: Where did you find this picture? It was years ago. I see so many old friends. It must be saved for us.

Zhang Ming: The photo is precious. Most of the brothers and sisters are not in the choir anymore.

Wen Ding: There are so many who have left the choir now. This has triggered a great many memories. It is really precious.

Huang Hong: This is probably around 2012. I see Hongjun’s sister is there. She has long curly hair. So beautiful!

Shou Ying: Mr. Pan is so thin! Now he is a little fat.

Ming Ming: I see Ms. Cui is directing. She looks enthusiastic.

Xiao Di: May God bless our efforts; may God bless us!

The messages surrounding the photo soon tapered off as other subjects overtook the conversation.

At that point, I felt such a spirit of thankfulness to be connected in this special way to my choir in China. How I miss joining in on all that back-and-forth banter in the sanctuary during our rehearsals! Despite the continued wait, I know I’ll be singing joyfully among the sopranos once again, if not this year then surely next year.

I have faith!!

          As I continue to wait to return to my Asian home, I’m reminded of a holiday experience that took place years ago. I hope your Thanksgiving Day travels went a lot smoother than this one. 

While in China, on our American Black Friday, I decided to take a 3-hour trip to the provincial capital city, Nanning. It was time to stock up on new Christmas ornaments, butter for holiday baking and a few other specialty items, all which I couldn’t find in my small city of Longzhou.  

           I had wisely purchased my bus ticket the day before to make sure there’d be a seat since buses fill up fast going to the big city.  A 2 p.m. departure would give me plenty of time to check into the hotel room and hit my favorite chain store, the Trustmart.

My travel packing was spot-on. I had U.S. dollars, Chinese yuan, my credit card and my Chinese ATM bank card tucked away in my purse.  I had my smaller, compact suitcase carefully packed with necessary items.  I had my sack of to-go snacks, from peanuts to apples to dried sweet potato strips.

In other words, I was ready for my afternoon, several-hours journey.  
          I was especially smug at the bus station when I ran into one of my Chinese colleagues from the English Department. It seems she  was going to Nanning as well. The 2 p.m. bus was full so she had to wait an entire 2 hours until 4 p.m. when the next bus was leaving. 

         “You should have bought your ticket yesterday, like me,” I announced with great pride in my excellent planning. “You wouldn’t have to wait so long.” 

          She smiled wanly. 

           I next gleefully waved her goodbye, made my way through the terminal door, clamored on board my bus and settled into my seat. 

          Right on time, the 40-passenger vehicle pulled out of the station and headed along the countryside access road that led to the expressway, 20 minutes ahead of us. The attendant passed out our free water bottles. Tissue packets followed. Her duties done, she floated to the front to sit next to the driver. The bus’s occupants then fell into a peaceful lull while the overhead TV played Chinese music videos of modern singers. 

          We had just crossed the bridge out of town and were cruising along when, in a frenzied panic, I started digging around inside of my purse. 

          Oh, my gosh. 

          Where was my passport??!! 
          Sure enough, after all my self-satisfied prep work, I had forgotten to bring my passport, the one thing I was never, ever to be without. 

         A passport, the only official overseas ID, is absolutely necessary for all foreigners in China. Not only could I not spend the night in a hotel without it, but in that area of China, we had a checkpoint before entering onto the express highway. Everyone on the bus had to show their ID cards to the checkpoint police.  If the Chinese forgot their national ID card, they were allowed to sign their names on a paper and continue onward. But a foreigner?  What would happen if I couldn’t produce my passport? I didn’t want to find out. 

         On the silent bus, this foreigner’s lone voice shouted out in Chinese to the bus driver and attendant,  “I’m so sorry!! I don’t have my passport. I have to get off the bus.” 

        The driver, startled, immediately began slowing down. The attendant popped her head up over her front seat and gave me the “Uh-oh” look. Every single person on the bus stared at me. 

         Within moments, an all-passenger discussion erupted as to whether the foreigner could continue onward or not. Not wanting to delay the journey any more than our crawling pace was already causing, most insisted it would be fine.

        I, however, said I didn’t think so. The foreigner must have a passport to proceed onward past the checkpoint. 

           The driver nodded in agreement. 

         My solution was to be let off the bus, which was basically in the middle of nowhere. We were surrounded by sugarcane fields and rice paddies but I figured I’d somehow manage to get back to the town. Perhaps I could flag down one of the local van taxies that ran people to and from smaller villages in the area. The driver, however, insisted on returning me to the station, much to the annoyance of those aboard.  

          At that point, I could only profusely apologize to everyone while our driver skillfully turned the vehicle around on the narrow country road and floored it back to town.

            15 minutes later, we pulled into the station as astonished and surprised employees looked on. 

         With my luggage in tow, I hopped off the bus, again apologizing to all and thanking the driver for his kindness. The coach then sped away in obvious hast, already now 30 minutes late. 

         I was soon ushered into the ticketing agent’s back office for a ticket exchange. There I discovered the buses were already full for the day with only tomorrow available. I had no choice but to leave early the next morning.

          My embarrassment would have ended there had not my colleague, who was patiently waiting for her 4 p.m. departure, spotted me. 

         “Why are you back so soon? What happened?” she asked with great concern, rushing to my side. 

          “I forgot my passport,” I groaned. “I’ve never forgotten my passport before! I feel so stupid.” 

         Her words of sympathy? 

         “Yes,” she oozed with obvious delight at my misfortune. “Next time, you mustn’t be so careless.” 

         

        

           

    

       

 

     

                   

     

         

         

         

   

 

         

 

  

         

        

(Taken from: A Monk in the Inner City: The ABCs of a Spiritual Journey by Mary Lou Kownacki)

Two farmers were walking through a field when they saw an angry bull.

Instantly, they made for the nearest fence, with the bull in hot pursuit. It soon became evident to them that they were not going to make it, so one man shouted to the other.

“We’ve had it! Nothing can save us. Say a prayer. Quick!”

The other shouted back, “I’ve never prayed in my life, and I don’t have a prayer for this occasion.”

“Never mind,” his friend panted. “The bull is catching up with us. Any prayer will do.”

His friend, huffing and puffing, managed to verbalize, “Well, I’ll say the one I remember that my mother used to say before meals. That’s the best I can do.”

“Say it! Say it!” the desperate companion urged.

“All right. Here goes: For what we are about to receive, O God, make us truly grateful.”

Happy Thanksgiving, Folks! And be truly grateful you are NOT those two farmers.

In a previous post, I shared one of my former student’s pictures of students in her classroom enjoying my carving-a-pumpkin video clips. They tried their hands at carving pumpkins themselves and did a very impressive job of doing so.

A few days ago, another former student (Hero) sent me pictures of his classroom of 3rd graders enjoying the trick-or-treat video clips.

Our WeChat conversation went as such:

Hero: I shared your Halloween videos with the kids. They are so excited! They love it! Children liked the candies a lot. They all want to join in.

Connie: Thank you, Hero, for sharing my special tradition with them. Next year, I will come to your classroom and we will do it together, you and I, in person. What do you think

Hero: Yes, that would be great! They must be very happy.

I definitely know that I would certainly be very happy, joining my former student in the classroom as a co-teacher and a colleague.

A year from now, check this space for pictures of me, Hero and his students enjoying some Halloween fun.

It’s a date, Hero!

The final installment of my Halloween video clips for next year’s lessons will be the following:

Planning my China Halloween lessons for a year from now took some thought.

I have numerous costumes from my childhood, many of which my mom sewed herself, but few still fit. Her best creation, the Zorro costume with silky satiny black pants and blouse, plus bandana and glittery cape, won me a 1st place $25 prize in junior high. That actually does fit but at present, it is packed and sealed in a box which I had planned to mail back to China 2 years ago.

It is still waiting in a closet for that to happen.

The Story of My Swiss Miss Outfit

For my selected costume, I turned instead to my dirndl (a traditional German dress), here in America where I’d kept it for years. I bought it in 1981 in Germany, where I spent the summer as an exchange student. My host mother had a fit when we went to the mall and I chose this for $75. It was the cheapest one offered and the only one I could afford. Her greatest concern was that my mother would criticize her for allowing me to buy such an expensive item, which seemed to her a frivolous purchase. At that time in Germany, such “costumes” were not at all popular or wanted. But I was determined, despite her efforts to dissuade me, so back to America it came.

Interestingly enough, a few years later, my host sister Ulrike told me that the dirndl was becoming quite fashionable among the young people. In fact, she and her sister both talked their mom into buying one for each of them and they sent me a picture of all three women in the family, Mom and daughters, posing proudly in their native dress.

The Dutch Bonnet Added

The Dutch cap or bonnet I am wearing here is called the Volendam hat because it came from the village of Volendam, located in North Holland in th Netherlands. It’s made of white cotton or lace, and is characterized by triangular flaps or wings that turn up on either side. 

This particular Dutch hat belonged to an elderly Dutch immigrant who gave it to my mother when she lived in Holland, Michigan during WW 2. An area of Michigan was settled by those from Holland, thus the name of the town, Holland. My mother’s paternal grandparents lived there and while her father was overseas in the Pacific, her mother brought the family to Holland to live until the war’s end. Holland was famous for the Tulip Festival and having the only working authentic windmill, brought from Holland and assembled in the town’s park. During the festival’s week, the children dressed in Dutch clothes and joined parades or just walked the streets for the tourists to enjoy an authentic feel of the Netherlands.

My mom and her brother not only wore Dutch costumes but had wooden shoes, along with all their classmates, which they clogged around in throughout not only the week but on a daily basis. She said they were the most comfortable shoes she’s ever worn.

While my mom’s outfit was not authentic to Holland, her cap was. When it was given to her, it was already a vintage piece. At present, we are guessing it’s well over 100 years old.

It certainly made for a fitting top-off to my costume: An authentic dirndl with an authentic Dutch cap.

Voila!!

Now all that was needed to complete my Halloween evening were the trick-or-treaters. (Coming next!)

Once again, Halloween Activity Night did not take place this year at my school in China. My absence made it a bit difficult to organize the event. I’m the one to fully get our English Association members signed up for all the different rooms, work closely with the club president to supervise volunteers, make the list of supplies, loan out my costume wardrobe and pull together all the permission that’s needed to do this on the campus. For 5 years, Halloween Activity Night was a hit among students, teachers and their families . . . .

. . . . until Covid stranded me here in January, 2020.

Last year, Covid restrictions in China didn’t allow such large gatherings and this year, I haven’t been present to get the ball rolling.

Also a shame is that my freshmen will not be getting those first lessons of introduction to the many traditions found in my American small-town culture surrounding October 31st. Nor will the second and third years be receiving more instruction about activities, vocabulary games and history points to share with their future students. October was always Halloween month in my classroom, with my graduated students often sending me pictures of what they were doing as novice teachers in their own schools to introduce Halloween culture to their pupils. Seeing them use some of my lesson ideas, then creatively add their own, was such a rewarding feeling.

So what’s a teacher stuck in America to do?

Lesson plan and prepare for next year!

Yes, I took full advantage of our Trick-or-Treat traditions here in my small town, which went into full swing on October 30th after last year’s community night was canceled due to Covid spreading concerns.

Getting Ready for Halloween:  Carving a Pumpkin

Let me share with you all my Youtube postings and WeChat send-offs to my Chinese friends, colleagues and students. There are several topics so let’s start with the first one: Carving a pumpkin, or Making the Jack-o-Lantern.

The Results?  A former Student Shares

One of my former students, Angel, made full use of the above videos by showing them to her class.   After that, they tried their skill at making Jack-o-Lanterns on their own.   The results are fantastic, as you can see. 

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The highlight of the night, of course, is Trick-or-Treating. Watch this space for what video offerings I posted this year and will be showing my students in Luzhou next year. There are a lot of them, so be ready to enjoy what’s coming next!

During this wait to return to China, I’ve done fairly well not to wallow in a depressive state at still not being at my school.

I was doing fairly well, that is, until recently, when my students and colleagues began sending pictures of the 120th anniversary celebrations of the founding of the college.

First, I was sent the link from the newly created write-up on a website for hiring new teachers.

Luzhou Vocational and Technical College

At present, I am the only foreign teacher and it most likely will stay that way for some time, even though we are now at about 15,000 students. LVTC (Luzhou Vocational and Technical College) pays a very low salary, only 4,200 yuan (roughly $660 a month) whereas private elementary schools, public junior high and high schools pay anywhere from 12,000-15,000 ($1,900 – $2,380 per month), with free housing included. Granted, the work load is quite challenging compared to teaching college courses but it’s a great way for foreigners to either pay off student debts or save for that future return to his/her own country.

As an Amity Foundation Teacher, money to me is not important. My students are, and being able to help China’s English Education majors become the best they can in their future classroom is my goal, not making a lot of money.

This commitment over the years has paid off in numerous ways.

One is that my school nominated me for the highest honor of foreigners in the province, the Jin Ding Award. This was in 2008. The paperwork involved to do this was quite extensive and time-consuming. Most colleges wouldn’t have bothered but my school did. How very humbled I was to receive this in the education division. There were 5 others chosen, all males who were experts in various other fields (medicine, factory technology, science). We had a wonderful weekend together where we were wined and dined, then had the ceremony where top officials presented us with our prestigious awards.

This photo was taken at the presentation and now is displayed on the campus on the newly erected Distinguished Faculty Honor board.

The translation of the text reads something like this: “Connie Wieck, An American English teacher. She has been engaged in teaching at the school for more than 20 years, making the school her home and having a love of teaching. She has won the honor of Sichuan’s Excellent Foreign Teacher, the top Jin Din award.”

And I know exactly where my plaque is located, too, in my China apartment. It’s a treasured item, one which I definitely want to carry with me when it’s time to retire from my China home and return to the States for good.

Other Pictures Sent

Also included in photos sent by students and colleagues were these, the celebration performances on the sports field. I imagine it must have taken days to get this set up and weeks of practices by students and teachers to create the best show possible. What a spectacular event!

If you want the full feeling of “being there”, see the video below, with the playing of a well-known pop song of a young man’s love for his girlfriend, “The Brightest star in the Night Sky”

The lyrics during the video clip: “I would rather leave all the pain in my heart, than forget your eyes; Give me the courage to believe again and go beyond the lies to embrace you; Whenever I can’t find the meaning of your existence, whenever I lose myself in the dark night, you are the brightest star in the night sky.”

Getting Teary-eyed, But Not Losing Hope

Like I said, I was doing very well staying positive and upbeat here in the States until this came my way.  Darn!!!  I really wanted to be there in person.  

Despite my downcast spirits during those moments of viewing the above, my college’s International Affairs Office director, Mr. Chen, recently sent me a note.  He said, “I have reported your situation to the leaders and relevant provincial and city officials.  We can’t yet authorize your invitation letter but please be patient.”

The fact that I am still wanted, that the college is willing to jump through as many Covid hoops as possible to get me back into the classroom, is very touching.  At present, I know of several foreign English teachers from overseas who have been given their invitation letters by several private schools in Shenzhen.  Another teacher has also been approved for  Shanghai employment.

Many of us are guessing that China will open up more after hosting the Beijing Winter Olympics.  That has been the rumor so I will continue to wait until May of 2022 which was set as one possible date by Chinese officials for the country to allow more people to enter.  

In the meantime, China continues to tout their  Zero-tolerance Covid stance.  As of today, only 300 cases have been reported in total (out of 1.4 billion people) with many lockdowns taking place, contact tracing and officials fired who let those few infiltrate their cities and areas.  I understand why Luzhou government authorities are very unwilling to have any overseas person come into their midst.  Despite the required 3 weeks of hotel quarantine, and then being monitored daily for another 2 weeks in an apartment home, there is still a risk.  I’m just hoping the risk factor will dissipate a bit more in May.

Until then, I continue to connect with my students and friends via WeChat, create cultural videos and  photo lessons to share with anyone who wants them, treasure this time with my mom (she turns 88 in November!) and keep that positive outlook of a China return high on my list of goals and hopes.