connie's space

It started 2 months ago.

I arrived on Wednesday after class to Meng Zhui Wan park, where my swimming pool is located, to find quite a crowd.

Every day, I have been swimming as a part of my daily exercise and relaxing routine. After a 20-minute taxi ride, I step to the curbside to walk across the tiled expanse of park that surrounds the outdoor and indoor pools. Usually around noon, a small spattering of elderly are out in groups doing tai qi, ballroom dancing or swinging from the athletic equipment set up for the public use.

There aren’t usually too many but on that particular Wednesday awhile back, there were small clusters of people spread out all over. As I made my way around them, I noticed that one particular group stood in a circle, heads bowed while saying the Lord’s Prayer. Another, a small band, was in full swing playing Joy to the World. And still yet other active gatherers were working diligently on a fan dance performed to a Chinese hymn booming from their portable cassette player.

Ah, the preparations for Christmas in China were underway!

CHINESE CHRISTIANS PREPARING FOR CHURCH CELEBRATIONS

It is the custom in most Chinese churches to have performances for midnight eve services.

Last year, I was in the Luzhou church choir and we also were preparing weeks in advance for our special numbers, We Wish You a Merry Christmas (in English) and Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus (in Chinese). Our Sunday school classes (all ages), retired folks’ choir, youth and children’s choirs, instrumentalists and others were likewise getting ready for their dance, skit or musical numbers.

I remember we all met at the church at different times to practice so we had to coordinate who got the sanctuary when. Sometimes, we ran into a bit of overlap, much to the irritation of our choir director “John” Lu. I then found out that adult choir trumps all other circles in the Luzhou church. We were never the ones to move, especially when Director Lu was in charge.

Many would have met at our local city park if possible but the park was closed for the year to undergo renovations, thus it was the church we stayed at.

How nice that here in Chengdu, the church Christians could gather outside in an environment suited for such large numbers!

REACHING PERFORMANCE PERFECTION

Every Wednesday, I’ve hung back 10 minutes or so to watch everyone’s progress in their practices. I did tell a few of the ladies, during a break once, that I was also a Christian and participated in services in Luzhou last year. I’d be happy to attend their worship but I’d instead be returning on the 24th to spend time with my church family along the Yangtze.

“Oh, what a pity!” several said with great disappointment.

Yes, in many ways, it is a pity because they’ve really improved over the past 2 months. I have no doubt the Christmas Eve services at Chengdu’s main Protestant church (quite near the park, actually) will prove to be quite something special, as will all upcoming celebrations throughout the Christian communities here, Luzhou included.

Many blessings for your own Christmas celebrations, wherever you might be, and wishing you Ping An (Peace) during your Yuletide season.

All week, bright sunshine and 60-degree temperatures have filled the Sichuan University campus lawns with crowds of happy folk. Families, the elderly, kite flyers, dog walkers and students have been putting this amazing weather to good use. Blankets are spread to relax or sleep on, then filled with light snacks to indulge upon later. Toddlers plow gleefully through those seated on the ground while doting grandparents follow close behind. Doggies romp freely with one another as owners chit-chat among themselves. Retired men, flying kites, keep skillful hands on their string reels while watching their homemade creations sail high over our heads. College couples, entwined in each other’s arms, whisper sweet sentiments in between nuzzles and carresses.

It is a scene I have never seen on the quiet campus of Luzhou Vocational and Technical College. A small, 3-year school just doesn’t have the drawing power of a noted Chinese university whose lush grounds, majestic ancient-style buildings and central city location make it the place to patronize for a few peaceful hours.

But this entire week really brought out both locals and tourists alike by the thousands, not only to the Sichuan University campus but many small neighborhood areas throughout Chengdu.

What’s been the big fuss?

It’s peak autumnal season of the Chinese Ginkgo trees!

THE CHINESE GINKGO 银杏 (Yin Xing)

I did some research on this tree, since it’s such a popular sight along almost every street here. This is what I discovered.

The Chinese ginkgo, also spelled gingko and known as the maidenhair tree, is of the ornamental variety. It has lovely fan-like leaves and produces nuts which are used in herbal supplements. According to the website I found, an extract is made from the leaves of the ginkgo and drunk to strengthen memory and concentration. It is also used to treat numerous ailments, including tinnitus, fatigue, asthma, Alzheimer’s disease, leg pain, multiple sclerosis, cancer, bronchitis, coughs and reproductive tract problems. The World Health Organization has even approved the use of ginkgo leaves to treat Raynaud’s Disease, a condition in which blood flow to the surface tissue of the skin is temporarily reduced.

It was brought to the New World from China in the 1700’s and has been known to do quite well in our US environment. It can survive freezing temperatures, drought conditions and heavy rainfall. However, it doesn’t fair well in arid climates so those of you living in Arizona, let’s say, won’t be finding any ginkgo adorning your boulevards.

I also learned the female tree produces a small, tan-colored fruit that has an objectionable odor. Most horticulturalists and landscapers avoid planting the female ginkgo tree for this reason. Despite that set-back, it is definitely a favorite for gardeners. It requires little pruning and has strong resistance to pests and disease. It can even be grown as a bonsai, sitting in a small pot and trimmed into a desirable shape.

But among us Chengdu folk, it’s not the hardiness, the medicinal value, or the gardener’s favorite that is bringing us out in droves to gaze at these beauties. It’s their amazingly gorgeous golden autumn leaves.

DRESSING THE CITY IN GOLD

It is hard to describe the excitement of the Chinese over the autumn ginkgo.

The few blocks, small lanes and alleyways, or larger parks and school campuses that have them are currently overrun with anyone and everyone out to take advantage of this spectacle.

Professional and amatuer photographers alike make their way under the trees’ golden, leafy tresses to get just the right light. They also have their pick of shots from among young models, wedding couples in full marriage attire and little children who wander about and strike poses while those nearby toss leaves high into the air to cascade downward upon them. Friends and family are ready with their cellphone or digital cameras. After snapping away, they then huddle together, reviewing the photos again and again to agree upon the keepers and the discards.

So popular is this seasonal experience among locals that the city government has chosen certain rare gingko spots for just that: ginkgo viewing and nothing else.

All week, our neighborhood side street lined with majestic ginkgo was blocked off. A sign along the wider street and a connecting narrow road (Splendid Lane Alley) stated that no cars were allowed, either for parking or driving. From December 5 to 12th, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., pedestrians only had access.

Ginkgo news spreads fast in this city so you can imagine what the past five days have been like in my neighborhood: tourist central!

What great fun it has been to watch those of all ages and backgrounds walking aimlessly down the middle of the street with a canopy of yellow gold above them and a carpet of the same beneath. For the only time all year, the street sweepers were off duty from cleaning away the fallen leaves. Their traditional twigged brooms lounged against trees or lay idley along the curbside while piles of leaves crunched under our feet.

It has been a nostalgic journey for me, remembering my childhood years of play when Fall overtook our yard in smalltown Marshall.

A WEEKEND CHILL; A WEEKEND CLEAN-UP

This weekend, however, brought an end to our yearly Chengdu ginkgo viewing.

Our temps dipped into the 30s at night, 50s during the day with darkening skies and light drizzle during our morning hours. The street cleaners have been busy at work, sweeping away all that crisp beauty that all week brought us frolicking folk out by the thousands. Car traffic has returned, mingling that once fragrant fall scent with dastardly fumes.

Of course, not all of the gingko have faded away. There are still trees holding desperately to their colorful covering but it’s a losing battle. Winter is fast approaching southwestern China and the gingko are proving to be the first victims.

Ah, well.

We all have steadfast memories to enjoy from last week’s gingko tree photography sessions. I know I certainly do, along with next year to look forward to.

(Note: My autumn gingko photos are soon to follow. Downloads are excruciatingly slow on this computer, thus the delay. They should be appearing in full within the next couple of days.

UPCOMING PLANS

In the meantime, it’s the anticipation of Christmas (December 25) for me, and Chinese Spring Festival (January 31) for the Chinese, that is overtaking most of the excitement at the moment.

I’ll be off to Luzhou for a few days to enjoy the holidays with our Peace Corp members and Luzhou church community. Then it’s returning to Chengdu to finish up the school year at Sichuan University before our Chinese New Year vacation days finally set in.

If I don’t get back to you before then, here’s wishing you an early Merry Christmas from China and Ping An (Peace) for the upcoming new year.

Two months ago, I entered my 8:30 a.m. morning lesson in Room 305 a bit earlier than usual. I was hoping Teacher Chen, my Comprehensive Chinese and writing teacher, and I could discuss better ways to improve his lessons. Our mutual respect for one another as language teachers had led to this open dialogue, which was becoming very refreshing for me as a teacher-become-student.

Why so?

In many ways, I’ve found it hard to keep my mouth shut when faced with teachers whose methodology mimicks years of a dull, yawning, very dreary teacher-fronted approach known as a standard throughout China. Students sit obediently and silently in their seats while their instructors systematically work their way through the chapters in the book. Even our conversation class, which I feel should be free talking on designated subjects, is reading set dialogues out loud and repeating vocabulary after the teacher for pronunciation practice.

This was always my students’ complaints about their junior high and high school English classes: Horribly boring with little joy in the room.

Falling prey to this during my time as a student at Sichuan University has been challenging so finding at least one teacher, Mr. Chen, responsive to some of my suggestions was really making my language study time seem a bit more fruitful.

But 2 months ago, there I found a very distraught 30-year-old Chen sitting at a student desk and pouring over a stack of formally typed papers.

“I’m not going!” he defiantly spoke aloud in English as he saw me enter. “I will just refuse to go. I don’t want to leave. This is very unfair!”

Being almost 20 years his senior, we’ve taken on the relationship of colleagues more than a distant student-teacher so all was revealed within the next 5 minutes.

CHINESE LANGUAGE TEACHERS SENT ABROAD TO TEACH

Along with many other Chinese colleges and schools, Sichuan University has many partner educational institutions all over the world. Every year, teachers of the Chinese Language Department are chosen to teach Chinese overseas for 2 years or longer. America, Europe, Africa and India are just a few countries where past Sichuan University staff have taught.

Teachers usually sign up for such things and are told in the summer that they’ve been chosen. Teacher Chen had put his name in for an opportunity to teach in America last year but this never materialized. His name then went into the pile for India but after waiting all summer for the announcement, consistently asking his departmental dean about it yet hearing nothing, he assumed he wasn’t going.

Oh, think again!

CHEN SURPRISED BY HIS UPCOMING VENTURE

Mr. Chen’s marching orders came during the weekend and he was not too happy about it.

First, he was off to Shanghai in just a few days to attend a 1-month seminar course for all Chinese teachers going abroad to teach Chinese. After that, he’d return to finish out the semester before heading off to India after the Chinese New Year. He’d be starting up his language courses at a sister Indian university but for how long , he couldn’t say. 1 year? 2 years?

As all things in this country, there is never any exactness about such things. We foreigners and Chinese alike often say the only certainty to be had in China is that everything is uncertain.

Despite Chen’s fervent wish to get out of this, there really isn’t much to be done in such situations. My guess is Chen was chosen because he’s single, has excellent English (definitely needed in India, especially for teaching beginning Chinese courses), has 5 years of teaching experience and is a man. He told me he is the only teacher from the university to go thus he might be fairly lonely in his new position, being the only Chinese national around.

There were, of course, other candidates available but they were probably not single and were women. Sending a young female teacher on her own to a new, rather out-there, private college in India is never something a Chinese dean would do. America or Europe would be a different story but lately in India, there have been many reports of overseas’ women being targeted and raped. I can imagine this is a great concern to the university, exposing a member of staff to such dangers, thus caution in sending a strong, hardy male teacher rather than a female one.

Thus it was that after the October 1st holidays, my classmates and I lost our Comprehensive Chinese and writing teacher, Mr. Chen.

UPHILL STRUGGLE IN THE CLASSROOM

It wouldn’t have been quite so traumatic had it not been that Comprehensive Chinese is our core class. Unlike the other subjects (listening, writing, culture, conversation), this class meets every day. It combines all the skills into one and, in my estimate, is our most useful class.

We had great hopes that the replacement teacher would be just fine, maybe even better than Chen.

What a boost to our morale when Teacher Yuan arrived, a lively young woman who brought visual aids to class and in Day 2 entertained us with a silly language game which we all couldn’t get enough of. Even the Korean boys who sit behind me, mostly playing with their cellphones, perked up when a competition erupted on which side could get the most points. They were enthusiasticlly shouting out the answers like junior high school kids along with the rest of us.

But sad to say, Teacher Yuan had to leave us after 3 days due to what she said was “something else” of more importance.

After that, Teacher Li entered the picture, and we all suffered greatly for it.

Poor Li!

The woman glued herself to a chair behind the podium and that’s where she stayed the majority of our lessons, droning rapidly on and on from the workbook about . . . we never were quite sure. I did manage to suggest that she write on the board from time to time and she took me up on this, much to our relief. In fact, her white board organizational skills were, indeed, quite exemplary. Still, about 70% of the time, it was Li sitting, talking, and us trying desperately to follow what she was saying.

It became so bad that a majority of the class just didn’t show up for her lessons, or straggled in 30 or 45 minutes late.

I did speak to her after class once and found out that this was the first time for her to teach at our level. She also was a linguistics major in school, not really into teacher education, which certainly explained her inability to create a decent lesson.

I honestly felt she had great promise if only someone would take her under their wing as a mentor, but it wasn’t my job to do so. Besides, Teacher Chen would be returning. We could endure Teacher Li until then.

So endure we did until last Friday came.

TEACHER CHEN RETURNS!

Yes, our beloved Teacher Chen has returned from Shanghai!

He and I had a lively conversation during the break of all the woes we’d had to put up with while he was gone. Nothing pleases a teacher more to hear how a replacement was awful and his or her return is greeted with such joyfulness.

Yes, we were definitely joyful on Friday, I can tell you that!

So tomorrow, we begin our morning classes on a high note as Chen takes over once more. With his presence at the head of the class once more, we are all really looking forward to this second half of the semester, I can definitely tell you that.

UNBLOCKED AND READY TO REPORT FROM CHENGDU

And, speaking of looking forward to the rest of the school year, looks like we can all look forward to more regular reports from Chengdu on my website.

Yes, I have managed to gain a new Chinese friend who yesterday quickly put the computer back to getting around all those blocked websites. How many tales to tell to catch you all up on life in the big city is uncountable but I’ll do my best to pick out the most interesting ones.

From Chengdu, here’s wishing you Ping An (Peace) for your day and a safe, happy, upcoming Thanksgiving!