connie's space

After that last entry,  it’s time to report some good news, sent in an email this morning: DP has a home!

A playful DP, ready for adoption.

A Re-cap of DP

I wrote in a previous post that, before leaving for the States, I had taken into my care a 3-month-old puppy dumped on the campus by one of our students.  I named him DP (Dormitory Puppy) because the girls’ dormitory was his hang-out while anxiously awaiting the return of his owner, who had abandoned him to go home for the summer.

Healthy at first, he soon became sick.  Rather than watch the poor thing die a sad, lingering death, I hustled him off to our local vet. He was diagnosed with a common canine killer, the parvo virus.

A very, very sick dog. Here Dr. Mao examines DP on his arrival to the clinic.

Since his illness was so progressed, no one was sure he’d live long enough for the full treatments necessary but, amazingly enough, he did . I visited him every day at the clinic, taking him for walks and giving a little people pampering, up to the day before I left for America.

The vets and I had already reached a monetary agreement of how much I’d pay for them to house him, care for him and eventually find him a home while I was gone.

DP’s home in the clinic until someone adopts him. My last photo of him before I left for America.

Although a sweet, gentle puppy, my biggest concern was his size.  This was going to be a BIG dog.  So few in China want a big dog.  Would our 3 vets (Dr. Huang, Dr. Mao and Dr. Li) be able to find a Chinese animal lover willing to raise what would potentially be a huge animal?

I really had my doubts.

The Exciting Email

         But this morning, an uplifting message about our deserted doggy was waiting for me in my inbox, sent from my Chinese sister, Cathy (Li Xiaolian).

Since I would be in the States for a month, I’d given Cathy’s telephone number to Dr. Huang for him to call if someone wanted to adopt DP.  That way, Cathy could relay the news to me while I was away.

Sure enough, there it was this morning.

Cathy wrote:  “I received a phone from dog hospital, there a good lady take your dog, they gave me the phone number of that lady, and said if you want to know about detail, you can phone to them.”

Oh, Happy Day!

      When I read that note, I could hardly contain my excitement.  Not only does DP have a home, he seems to have a truly great home!

I think you can all guess the first thing I’ll be doing once I land back in Luzhou:   Call DP’s new owner and hopefully set up a time when I can visit this “good lady” who has so kindly adopted my big-pawed stray.

Now that certainly will be a great beginning to the school year.

From Illinois, here’s wishing you Ping An (Peace) for your weekend.

I received several comments on my website regarding the magnificent recycling efforts of Mr. and Mrs. Old Man River (Mr. Zhen and his wife, Ms. Wu).  It’s so nice to hear how others appreciate the hard work the two have done over the years to make our campus a little cleaner and brighter.

Here’s a bit more about my neighbors, including my other friends, which causes me great concern about the health of the Chinese people.  The culprit?  Tang Niao Bing (Sugar-Urine Sickness), known in English as diabetes.

Increases in “Sugar-Urine Sickness”

During my 3 years away from the college, the Rivers have changed in a couple of ways.  Aside from aging, Mrs. River now has Type 2 diabetes.  She told me that she goes twice a day to the local medical clinic across from the school front gate to receive her insulin injections.  I’m guessing most Chinese doctors  recommend that medical personnel give daily insulin shots rather than have people do it themselves but maybe I’m wrong.  Perhaps it’s her own choice to do this with help because she’s nervous about doing it herself.

       I do know that diabetes is on the rise in China. In my former school, our waiban (foreign affairs director) announced his aging father had diabetes, among other ailments.  Here in Luzhou, our college president is an insulin dependent diabetic (Type 2 as of two years ago) and Jalin’s mom (my former Chengdu neighbor) is taking pills for the disease.  Her daughter (a college student in New York City) and her older sister, who has a massage parlor in the Big Apple, send her the medications from America.

Yes, due to the rising increase of diabetes, China has these drugs as well but  quality control is iffy.  Some of the items sold in pharmacies are later found out to be fakes.  A majority of Chinese would much rather have overseas’ meds than meds from China just for this reason.  They are especially wary of buying “American” drugs in country.  TV and newspaper reports remind consumers that bottles and labels may say this is an overseas’ product but the contents have been tampered with and exchanged for cheaper or fake pills.  This has been a growing practice in China with pharmaceutical companies and small, homerun pharmacies being put to the forefront for fraud.

What’s Causing the Rise in Diabetes?

Butter cookies, Dove chocolates and crunchy noodle chips: Just a few modern, unhealthy  goodies that have overtaken young people’s traditional diets.

The August edition of National  Geographic has a very frightening, eye-opening, extensive article entitled “Sugar: Why We Can’t Resist It” which points out just how prevalent this condition has become in the world.  One paragraph (p. 96) reports:  Why in 1980 did 153 million people in the States have diabetes and now we’re up to 347 million?  The culprit:  Sugar.

While Mrs. River, our president and Jalin’s mom most likely didn’t get diabetes due to sugar overload, I can see it easily happening in the country’s younger generation, especially the kids.

It was great when China opened up to the outside world in the early 80’s, but the open-door policy did bring a huge negative change to the country, namely in people’s diets.

In downtown Luzhou, our McDonalds always has a long line for ice-cream cones, served from this street-side walk-up window.

All those fast-food chain restaurants, food and drink products from America and other countries seized China by storm.  Walking in any grocery store now yields aisles full of chocolates (Dove, Nestle, Hershey’s, Cadburys), soft drinks and juices (Fanta, Coke, Pepsi, Sprite, Minutemaid and tons of sugar-filled Chinese brands as well), kids’ single servings of sweetened, flavored pure milk products (strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, apple, melon), cookies galore, and a huge variety of  ice-cream bars not to mention all the sugary breads and cakes that have overtaken all the bakeries.

Ah, those delicious, wonderful bakeries!

Years ago, bread was traditionally steamed mantou, both plain and lightly sweetened. Now European style bakeries which cater to Chinese tastes have overtaken all shopping districts.  Bakeries can be found on every street selling to the masses sugar-laden buttery sponge cakes, crunchy cookies and fluffy bread buns or loaves. In fact, the breakfast of many school kids, including my college students, consists of a piece of yellow sponge cake and a carton of sweetened milk picked up on the way to early morning classes.

It used to be a hard-boiled egg and a plain mantou.

My former student, Ji Ke, still enjoys his breakfast mantou, bought from local sellers.

Diabetic Research Findings

In America, the American Diabetes Association states that in the US, 1 out of 10 people have diabetes, a total of 25.8 million, Type 1 and 2 both included.  Of that number, 18.8 have been diagnosed and 7 million most likely undiagnosed.  Not included are the 79 million categorized as pre-diabetic.

A United Kingdom’s website (Diabetes.co.uk, reporting on the global diabetes community) stated that an estimated 1 out of 10 people in China have diabetes (Type 1 or 2) while in the UK, it’s 1 out of 20.

China is likewise thought to have surpassed India with the highest number of diabetes reported within a highly populated country.  Also mentioned was that Type 2 was rarely seen a decade ago in China.  Now is a different story, with numbers having tripled according to experts.  This seems to be somewhat proven in my own encounters with friends.

In fact, 20 years ago, when I first came to China, no one even knew the disease’ name in Chinese.  Now tang niao bing is known by everyone, even the young kids I meet and the poorer, less educated people from the countryside.

Numbers Not 100% Accurate, But Alarming

According to most experts, it’s hard to estimate just how many have diabetes in the country because many people go undiagnosed.  A preliminary study conducted in China by the International Diabetes Federation found the number of diabetics has risen in excess of 92 million.

The certain thing is that diabetes in China is becoming dangerously high.

One of the major suppliers of diabetic medications in China is the US pharmaceutical company, Merck, whose business has increased astronomically in China.

“China has, unfortunately, become the world’s capital for diabetes,” said Michael Rosenblatt, Merck’s chief medical officer, in an Oct. 25 interview in Shanghai.  “The government is starting to pay more attention a this is the beginning of a huge problem, both health and economic.”

My Gifts Brought Back to Chinese Friends Are Changing

         In the past, I used to bring chocolates and American goodies to my Chinese friends after visits to the States.  These were one of the few things that were not labeled “Made in China” and were considered unique.

Not any more, especially as almost all of my former candy presents can now be purchased in any Chinese grocery store.

Now I focus more upon sale-item clothing, skin care products, jewelry, multi-vitamins (very expensive in China, and often fakes) or small local items.  They last longer and can be kept as a memento of their foreign friend, Connie.

Hard to hold on to an American Snicker bar for 20 years but not so for my hometown’s name and logo emblazoned on a T-shirt or a mug.  Those kind of gifts are more health-friendly, and certainly more appreciated.

And having said that, it’s about time for me to begin  that gift shopping already.  With just one week to go before my return to China, it’s always best to get a head start.

From Illinois, as always, here’s wishing you Ping An (peace), and good health, for your day.

           Mr. and Mrs. Old Man River are my 1^st floor, downstairs neighbors.

Of course, that’s not their real names.  It’s really Mr. Zhen, age 84, and his wife, Ms. Wu, age 60. (In China, the wife keeps her maiden name.  The children take the name of their father.)  But as a term of endearment, I use Old Man River, or River for short.

I’ve known this elderly couple for over 7 years.  When I first came to the school, I lived directly above them.  Their daughter is a teacher at our college and since these are the faculty apartments, they were all living there together. When I first arrived, there were 5 of them in their dingy 3-room apartment:  Mr. and Mrs. River, their adult daughter, her 4-year-old son and the father. A very tight squeeze but Chinese are used to these kind of living arrangements, including the shabby conditions of these on-campus living conditions.  Mold growing from the dank concrete walls, leaking toilets, wires dangling from ceilings – not very conducive to healthy living.

Now, it’s just Mr. and Mrs. River living there together.

Their daughter and her family privately bought a brand new, fancy apartment off-campus which they enjoy to the fullest.  They invited the grandparents to live with them but they refused.   This is their home along the Yangtze River.  To leave this place  and live clear across town without easy access to their friends or familiar surroundings is not to their liking.

And so they have remained in the tiny, dark school apartment with frequent visits from their grandson and daughter, usually on the weekends.

A Happy Competition:  Recycling

            What keeps these two busy?

Well, both the Rivers are experts at collecting recyclable materials.

This is one of  the greatest pastimes of many elderly all across China.  Finding plastic bottles, glass, cardboard, paper, rubber and Styrofoam, collected from trash heaps, trash cans and directly off the ground, is a great way to make money.  Recycling venders for all sorts of materials  make weekly or monthly pick-ups in their trucks after being called by locals.  They weigh the carefully packed items and pay X amount per pound, depending on what the current rate is for what material.  University campuses tend to have the most customers for this kind of money-making project, mostly because there is a wealth of recyclables to be found due to student consumption of bottled drinks not to mention discarded books and papers, especially at the end of the school year.

So as on any Chinese campus, we have a very healthy competition going between the elderly on who can collect the most stuff to make the most amount of money.

In competition with the Rivers, here is one of our campus elderly hauling their recyclables for pick-up at the front gate.

Early Morning Ventures Provide Fruitful Findings

           I would have to say Old Man River and his wife provide very stiff competition for these recycling “contests.”  They are both up early morning (6 a.m.)  and quite late at night (10 p.m.) to get the best selections from what the campus dumpsters and grounds have to offer.  Early morning is the best since students stay up late, strolling around the campus at night while eating snacks and enjoying drinks, the remains of which are left strewn everywhere.   Students in China are horrible at throwing things away in the proper receptacles.  They just don’t do it.  They are used to tossing their trash immediately on the floor of classrooms, dormitory hallways or outside on sidewalks and grassy areas.  Education on environmental responsibility is growing in China but is still a new concept for many in the countryside.  Their feeling is it’s the duty of workers to pick up trash so why should they bother lending a hand?  This of course leaves our recycling clans quite happy as they can spot discarded items a mile away without digging through the filthy trash cans.  Thus early morning ventures, which Mr. and Mrs. River participate in daily, are very fruitful.

Old Man River’s Recycling Heaps Bring Great Rewards

Two weeks of collecting result in quite a hefty amount of separated recyclables.

         Before leaving for the Luzhou airport a few weeks ago, Mr. River had compiled all his recyclables in neat, tidy piles outside our building.  He was busy with his Chinese calligraphy brush, dipped in dark ink, marking the stacks with the poundage after weighing them using his traditional Chinese scales.  He carefully recorded on lined paper each category on a piece of paper, the amount designated per pound, his weighed amount and the price he should be paid.

After packaging up everything, Mr. River weighs his items using a traditional Chinese scale.

Mr. River carefully writes the weight with his calligraphy brush on every packed up item.

Cardboard: 18 pounds!

As I dragged my suitcase up the outside steps of our building on my journey to the States, the recycle truck was already parked in front of me. The driver was busy reweighing and adding up my neighbors’ amounts while the two of them looked on to make sure the numbers were accurate.

Our recycling guy and his driver both sort out the amounts, reweighing and recalculating, while Mr. River looks on.

Mrs. River (Ms. Wu) helps her husband load up the recycle truck after everything is in proper order.

Loading up the recycle truck takes some time and energy on everyone’s part.

Looking down on all the collecting the couple had accomplished in 2 weeks was quite inspiring.  One of those bagged piles could be attributed to me and my Diet Coke fetish.  I always make sure the Rivers get my plastic Coke bottles and cans to add to their stash.  This is my way of contributing a few dollars to their bank account every so often, something they are always appreciative of.

In this bag, my plastic Diet Coke bottles add to this 22 pound sack. I’m more than happy to donate to the Rivers’ recycling fund.

I did take a peek at the total this time around:  269.30 yuan ($44.88).

Mr. River’s carefully compiled and itemized list, seen here, was correct.

Not at all a bad haul for such diligence.

My Small Town’s Recycling Fever Falls Flat

         Back in the States, I watch as so many in my small town set out huge garbage bags full of paper, glass, plastics and cardboard to be tossed into our town’s landfill.

Shameful!

My mother refuses to add to that heap so we have a 4-station recycling area set up in the garage.  When her small bins get full, she loads everything into the car and drives over to the nearby city (Terre Haute, 15 miles away) where Indiana State University has a wonderful recycling center for the community to drop off all their materials.  When I’m at home, we usually make at least 2 runs to the center before going out to eat at a local restaurant

There is always a great feeling of accomplishment after emptying all these items into their separate bins, seeing all that would have been polluting the planet had we not bothered.

I can only imagine this is the same satisfaction my neighbors must get after every pick-up from the recycle guy.  Not only are they making our campus more beautiful by their efforts, not to mention getting plenty of exercise in doing so, but bringing in spending money for themselves.

Sure, dependence on adult children to supply their monetary needs is very acceptable in this culture but it’s still nice to know that, at ages 84 and 60, their ingenious self-sufficiency is still hard at work in their lives.

And on that last note, here’s wishing you Ping Ahn (Peace) for your day, with a gentle nudge aimed in the recycling direction for those not inclined to do so. (Hint-hint!)

         My Chinese sister, Li Xiaolian (Cathy), and I finally accomplished a 10-year goal: for the two of us to meet up in the pool together for me to give her a swimming lesson. We’ve talked about it for years but it wasn’t until this past Saturday morning that we finally succeeded.

Cathy and I finally make it for our first swimming lesson.

          Seeing us giggling, speaking in English and splashing around in the water caused quite a stir among other pool patrons. They marveled at Cathy’s English and my skills at teaching strokes. We certainly made the most of that 10-year wait, the length of time our friendship began in 1993 with my arrival in Luzhou.

Our Friendship

My Chinese sister, Cathy, and me

          Cathy is the former Dean of the English Department at our college. This is why we know each other so well, but she left 6 years ago to take up another faculty position at the Luzhou Police College, located up the road from us.
             In the past, I’ve written about Cathy, including her son’s matriculation into a top Beijing university. As was the custom, Cathy and her husband threw a huge celebratory party to invite friends, family and neighbors to share in their happiness. It’s hard to believe that blog was written 4 years ago with photos of a young, 18-year-old “Jack” heading off to study.
            Now he is graduating and will be working as an engineer for the Army, which gave him a full-ride scholarship to attend the top engineering school in the country. His mom’s hope is for him to be stationed in Chengdu, quite near Luzhou, so that she can see him more often. He is their only child and, as all one-child policy parents, is their greatest pride and joy.
             As for Cathy, who is my age, we’ve kept in touch over the years that I’ve been gone from Sichuan. We consider ourselves sisters, sharing everything of importance about our lives, families and personal secrets.

Cathy has decided to teach me to play mahjong. Here she gathered her friends together and invited me along.

A Missed Opportunity Due To A Stupid Mistake

            As mentioned before, Cathy and I share everything, including her darkest and most regrettable time in life.
             This happened about 5 years ago, when Cathy’s dream of entering the PhD program at the prestigious Beijing University came to a stunning end.
             PhD programs in China are very difficult to get into, especially for us older folk. Programs place age limits on candidates, rarely taking anyone in their 40s. Yet Cathy, then 43, managed to get her application accepted and with permission from the Police College, she was allowed to attend the PhD entrance examinations held in Beijing. (Note: College faculty in China must get permission from school leaders to take exams to enter any higher education program. This is why it’s always best to have excellent relationships with the higher-ups. If you don’t, most likely you’ll be out of luck when you are looking for favors.)
             The Beijing University entrance exams were a 3-day affair. Cathy arrived early to study and brush up on all that would be required of her. This included an English language interview, held in the afternoon after her basic English test was to be taken.
            She had exams in Chinese philosophy, Chinese education and other noteworthy topics designed for those entering any PhD program. She had studied and prepared for this for over 6 months.
The fundamental English exam, however, was to be the easiest one.
           With her vast experience in the language, not to mention all the educational articles she’d had published in English and her excellent verbal skills, the one test she knew she’d easily pass was that one.
        After her test was finished that morning, she headed over in the afternoon for the one-on-one English language interview. I was such a success that the interviewers couldn’t help but tell her that of all the candidates, her English ability ranked the top.
        That evening, Cathy told me she went to bed with soaring hopes of getting excellent results the next day.
         And excellent results she did get.
         She was called into the dean’s office where all her marks far outshone every other candidate that they had interviewed, a total of 5. All the marks, however, except one: The basic English exam, where she had not only failed miserably but gotten the lowest score.
            “How is that possible??!!!” she asked in shock.
            It seems that from question 2, Cathy had mistakenly missed answering a question on her test paper but continued to fill in her ovals. In other words, from Question 2 onward, all the answers she completed were wrong due to her not paying attention to the number she was answering.
            This disastrous mistake cost her dearly.
           She was not accepted into the Beijing University PhD program, despite being their top candidate, although they told her she could try again next year. Her heart was broken, however. She confided in me she cried for almost 2 weeks straight before finally accepting this fact and leaving her dream of a doctorate degree behind her.

Happier Times

The last time I saw Jack (Cathy’s son) was in this photo, taken 4 years ago as he was about to embark on his freshman year in Beijing.

             Five years later, Cathy’s energetic spirit has returned and we can now enjoy spending time together after my 3-year absence. In fact, this evening we’ll be meeting up for a family dinner . . . of sorts. Cathy is scheming with her best friend to do a little match-making: her son (Jack) and her friend’s daughter (Lily). Lily will be attending this little family dinner along with myself.
           Will romantic sparks be flying? We shall see!

           Until next report, here’s wishing you Ping Ahn (Peace) for your July 4th celebrations.

The School Year Ends!

            The school year has finally ended! At least for me, anyway.
My final courses of the year are over and done with as of last Friday, with the re-take test for those who failed my literature course.
             Friday’s second-time-around test for the 12 Qing Hai University students who failed my literature final proved a good thing. Every student but one received a 60 and passing mark. If not for poor, clueless Jack (Dan Jian Nuo Bi), a Tibetan from Qing Hai province, I’d have had 100% student rate for passing all my courses.

The Struggle of Our Qing Hai Students

            It’s always hardest for the Qing Hai students who come here to attend school in Sichuan. Our college started this branch school alliance 6 years ago. Those in the 3-year certificate program (not the 4-year degree program) are placed here to complete their education instead of staying on the university campus in Qing Hai province.
            And let me tell you, adjustment to this area takes some getting used to.
            Qing Hai province runs deep into undeveloped Western China. It touts a crisp, cool New England climate, not the sweltering summer heat, deep humidity and sub-tropical weather we have here. The horrible 90 plus degree temps we’ve experienced these past 2 weeks has made our Qing Hai group melt into puddles on the classroom floor. Their energy level zapped; their diligence to learn squelched by the unbearable heat.
           Add to this the food, which is another troublesome spot. The spicy Sichuan hot peppers swimming in every dish, as well as very traditional southwestern dishes, make for unhappy, upset stomachs. All semester, I’ve had our far-to-the-west students come to me, hands on their stomachs as they double over in pain, asking for leave because they are feeling sick.
             Then there’s the strong, Sichuan accent to deal with. Most of the Qing Hai students (a majority of Tibetan nationality) find no comfort in living here, hardly able to understand what any native Sichuanese is saying. They mostly stick together on our campus, speaking Tibetan or Qing Hai dialect while staying far away from our Sichuan students at the college.
           To make them even more different, there’s no difficulty spotting them among the 8,000 Han Chinese who are here. Their habits, mannerisms and dark-skinned appearance are a dead give-away they aren’t from here. The rugged, tall, handsome guys are bedecked in jewelry, pierced ears and long hair. The girls boast flowing tresses down to the waist while their Muslim sisters are crowned in brightly colorful head scarves. This look is far different from the cosmopolitan youth of this province who wear trendy clothes and the latest short-cropped hairstyle.

Our rugged, hardy Qing Hai guys, hanging out on the campus lawn which certainly sets them apart from others. No Sichuanese would be caught dead sitting on the ground. A majority of Chinese consider that dirty.

            In other words, our Qing Hai 2,000 from the far grasslands of China really struggle in this alien environment.
             So for them, I have a soft spot, especially for our poor Jack.
He couldn’t speak a stitch of English in my class, nor even read it out loud, so my guess is that his parents forced him into this major. I can imagine them insisting an English major would offer him better opportunities, better jobs, better chances of leaving the difficult countryside life which is currently theirs. He is probably the first in the family to go to college, and, sad to say, most likely he shouldn’t.
             Jack has little aptitude or desire for study. The 8,000 yuan ($1,300) for his yearly tuition probably could have been better spent on his siblings. (Minority families, such as Tibetans, are allowed more than one child. Most have 2 or 3 children.)
That was quite apparent by his attendance in my class. He missed 8 of 12 classes this semester.
              The fact that he copied word for word from the essay of his classmate during the re-take test also hints at an inability to function at any English level, much less one for an English major.
Thus Jack, and only Jack, is my one failed student for the entire school year.
             I do wonder if he’ll even return next semester after going home this summer. My guess is probably not.

What’s Happening with Me!

               And the next question is: Will I even know about Jack’s fate, given that I won’t be teaching here again until the 2014-2015 school year?
            Yes, final decisions have been made after my Sichuan work visa was denied for the 2013-2014 school year. (See previous blog for explanation on why that happened.)
            It is official: I have been granted study leave for half a year with the other half spent in the States.
           I will be enrolled again in Sichuan University’s Chinese language program from August to February. (This is in Sichuan’s capital city, Chengdu, 3 ½ hours away from Luzhou.) From March to July, I will be in the States itinerating and doing as much PR work for the Amity Foundation as possible.
             During my China time, I will be visiting my apartment on the campus here once a month during weekends to make sure everything is in proper order. While I’m in the States, I will have my Chinese friend check up on things for me. (As mentioned before, the school has graciously allowed me to keep my things in the school apartment.)
              During my US time, I will be visiting churches within my own conference and others if I am scheduled in. My home base will be at my parents’ home in Marshall, Illinois, which will certainly be a blessing. My mother and I have been struggling for years trying to clean out the house during my brief landings.
               Needless to say, nothing much has ever gotten done.
              With this extended time period, I think we have a good chance of finally accomplishing something worth cheering about.
             Until next report, here’s wishing you Ping An (peace) from along the Yangtze.

             Last I left off, a new 1-week holiday had been thrown at us, causing school leaders to cut the semester 2 weeks shorter than expected. Everyone was left scrambling to fit testing into any time slot available, then working madly to calculate semester grades to be recorded into the computers. I wasn’t the only one running around at top stress mode. The tension in the school’s classrooms and our English offices filled the atmosphere with frantic frenzy.
           It wasn’t pleasant.
          On Friday morning, June 7, I finished up everything that needed done and headed off to Sichuan’s capital city, Chengdu, for a respite from the hassles thrust upon us. I needed time to recuperate before returning to finish out the rest of the school year with our branch school students from Qing Hai University. Their school year doesn’t end until July 5.

Chengdu News: Swimming at the City’s Natatorium

This was my hang-out with my male swimming buddies, every morning fo a week.

            I must say, it was a relaxing week and one much needed.
            I met up with my neighbors from years ago during my language study. I usually rent a room in my old apartment complex because it’s an area I know well. Everyone welcomed me back, wondering if I was there to stay.
             Daily jaunts to the Meng Zhui Wan Swimming Pool had me meeting up with all my swimming buddies from the winter. This swimming complex has 4 outdoor pools, a water park and an indoor pool as well. The indoor pool is going through repairs during the summer so we are all forced outside, into the sizzling rays of sunshine, for our lap swims.
            Chinese women dislike dark skin so I was one of the very few women to swim with the guys in the mornings. We all greeted one another before and after work-outs, which made me feel quite special. All that male attention, even from the older men, is appreciated by a woman of my age!
              Over the years, I have noticed the swimming crowds at this pool as well as others in China are growing. Years ago, swimming was considered a wealthy sport. The cost of $3-5 for a swim was too expensive for most to afford. A huge luxury meant only for the upper classes. In fact, I enjoyed at times being the only person in my lane to swim.
             Not so anymore.
             Now, swimming has become a sport of choice for quite a few in all income ranges. Swimming lessons are a huge draw for metropolitan parents wishing to keep their kids busy during the summer holidays. The lifeguards often have their hands full giving lessons to classes of 30 – 40 kids early morning in the training pools while the rest of us enjoy our swimming times in the 50 meter pools.

My favorite pool sign: “No slapstick, please!”

Walks around the Sichuan University Campus

           Aside from the pool, there were lovely walks around the beautiful Sichuan University campus, which directly is across from the place I always stay.
           Especially nostalgic was to see all the graduates from the many different university departments. This is the time of year when graduation ceremonies are held, one after another, during the weekends. Seeing such joyful faces, excited figures floating around campus in caps and gowns, brought back many memories of my own university graduation years ago.

Oh, happy day!

           Throughout the school, clusters of classmates posed in front of buildings, on tree-filled lawns, on building steps, seated at the school’s lotus flower ponds and around the campus gates to record this auspicious day.

Graduates posed on the steps of the main administrative building for an impressive photo of their alma mater.

The lotus pond, at the entrance to the main gate, was another popular photo op for gradutes.

Graduates weren’t the only ones interested in the campus’ beauty spots.

A photographer’s heaven.

            A new chapter in life for the up-and-coming Chinese youth was about to begin and they wanted as many remembrances as possible.

Back in Luzhou

            Back in Luzhou, I’ve resumed testing and grading for this week but on a much more limited, and relaxing, schedule. My Sichuan students have mostly left for the school year and will be returning after the summer. A majority of the school’s 8,000 have fled homeward with around 2,000 still remaining. Yes, we are quite the quiet little community at the moment. Most of the “leftovers” are the Qing Hai students, the ones I am currently finishing up.
                  My Peace Corp brethren, John and Ashley, will be leaving soon for the States. They have been gone for 2 years and are eagerly awaiting a reunion with family and friends before beginning a new life together as husband and wife in the States. We are hoping for a farewell evening together to at least chat a bit before their departure.

Unusual Circumstances Have Me Up in the Air for Next Year

            This past month has been quite a topsy-turvy ride for me, something which I have as yet to report. New regulations in this province have denied me a work visa for the next school year.         

             Sichuan government regulations state after 5 consecutive years in China on a work visa, foreigners must “take a break” for one year before returning to Sichuan. Another 5 years is then granted.
            At present, only Sichuan seems to have this rule. Other provinces are quite happy to have foreigners working in their areas no matter how long they have been here but Sichuan’s policy, as of this year, is fully underway and being strictly enforced.
               The Amity Foundation, my US sending agency (United Methodist GBGM) and I have been discussing what that entails and what will happen to me. Moving is one option but there is no hope ever of returning to Sichuan to teach. It would be goodbye to Luzhou forever.
             Another is language study for a year (a student visa is considered “taking a break” from a work visa), which will keep me in country, most likely studying at Sichuan University. Yet another is time in the States with assignments from the Board, either itinerating or something else.
             The school has graciously said they will hold my apartment for me, keeping all my things here if I plan to return. I would then stay at this college for several more years before taking on another placement in China.

Decisions to be Made Tomorrow

            Decisions on this will most likely be fully made tomorrow, after holding a conference call with those involved. My preference is always to stay in country but we will see how that unfolds.

            From Luzhou, here’s wishing you Ping An (Peace) for your day until the next report from along the Yangtze River.