connie's space

It’s Visa Renewal Time!

           At 7 a.m., the winding road from Longzhou to Chongzuo was fairly empty of traffic and just as breathtaking as always. 

            Steep, rocky mountains rose to the right and left of the road amid lush, green forests.  Water buffalo could be seen at every turn, plowing through rice fields or taking a lazy slosh in muddy waters.  Mud-brick houses also dotted the landscape, found near sugarcane fields spread out on the flatlands.

            Such a drive once again reminded me of what a beautiful area I was living in.

            This trip was taken last Monday.  Mr. Luo, the foreign affairs director of my school, and I were zipping along in his van to the government offices of the county seat.  My 1-year visa had almost expired and it was time to submit the necessary documents to receive another.

            Mr. Luo had compiled a huge packet of materials necessary for me to register once again with the government.  It had taken him 3 weeks to collect all of these:  3 invitation letters, signed and stamped, from Amity, my school and the province asking me to teach in China, a signed contract by myself with the school, my health certificate, the Longzhou police station resident permit, plus copies of my passport, resume and foreign experts’ card.  Along with that were 2 photo head-shots, used to paste into files and whatever else deemed important for identifying the foreigner.

            Every province has its own complicated mess of instructions, forms and notification papers required for visa application and renewal. 

            This province is no different.

Our Pingxiang Adventure

            The last time Mr. Luo and I had such a venture together had been 2 months earlier for my health certificate.  Mr. Luo and I had loaded ourselves into his mini-van to once again take the country roads early morning, this time to the Vietnam border town of Pingxiang (ping shee-ahng).

            Pingxiang is actually much smaller than Chongzuo but it had a service not offered anywhere else in the county:  health exams for entry-exit visas.

            After 1 hour of driving, we came to the small government office in Pingxiang only to find out that the health exams were discontinued in February.  All health exams for visas were now done in Nanning, 3 hours away.

            Not wanting to waste the trip, Mr. Luo suggested we go to the China-Vietnam border area for window shopping. 

            A 20-minute drive had us at an odd little dusty, constructed-overnight town lined with shop after shop of Vietnamese carved wood items  There were chairs, tables, figurines, table-top ornaments, and huge sculptures.  All were ornately decorated, some better than others, by Vietnamese and then trucked into China to sell.

            Tucked in between these were huge glass vessels of medicinal drinks made from grotesque, whole reptiles (giant toads and coiled snacks) stuck in the alcoholic liquid.  I always knew Chinese were into this kind of stuff but seeing it in person was a bit disgusting . . . . and at the same time, fascinating.

            After walking around a bit in the hot sun, I decided to call it quits but not before purchasing a few business card holders to give as gifts.

Learning about Guangxi History:   Youyiguan (Friendship Pass)

            Yet another tourist site which Mr. Luo suggested I see was  Friendship Pass (or Youyiguan).

            This French- Chinese post was established in 1896 by China and France in accordance with the sino-Vietnam border affairs which required both sides to have military and foreign affairs agencies.  The Chinese side set up their post in Guangxi, at the tourist spot known as Friendship Pass. 

            Both sides also established 9 other smaller outposts along the border, one being here in Longzhou (thus the reason for the French Embassy being here years ago).

            The Friendship Pass office was built by the French in 1914 along with a Chinese-style arched bridge building through which people passed under.  The Italianate design of the main office  looked quite out-of-place for such a remote mountain region.  It’s still used today but as a police headquarters and tourist center.

            This area also was a key fighting zone during the Sino-French war (1884-1885), a war fought to decide if France should replace China in control of Tonkin (northern Vietnam). 

            The Battle of Bang Bo, known as the Battle of Zhenan Pass, was an important Chinese victory during the war so visiting remnants of the fighting footholds are also another draw for tourists.   

            According to Wikepedia:

           “The battle, fought on March 23 and 24 in 1885 on the Tonkin-Guangxi border, saw the defeat of 1,600 soldiers of General François de Négrier‘s 2nd Brigade of the Tonkin Expeditionary Corps by a Chinese army of 32,000 men under the command of the Guangxi military commissioner Pan Dingxin.[1]

            “The battle set the scene for the French retreat on March 28 and the conclusion of the Sino-French War in early April in circumstances of considerable embarrassment for France.”

            Scattered up steep, stone step inclines and among deep brush are the bunkers and walls built by the Chinese soldiers to fight against the French.   Although a roasting hot day, trekking about the pathways and walkways was still a worthy venture.           

             Hard now to imagine a vicious battle taking place in such a quiet, scenic area.

Visa Completed:  Good to Go for Another Year

            While the recent Chongzuo trip didn’t give us the same sightseeing marvels as Pingxiang, it did bring about one positive event:  After 4 days,  I’m happy to say that today  I received my passport back, visa valid until July, 2011. 

            None too soon as I’m leaving tomorrow for Nanning before flying to Chengdu on July 6 for some time with Sichuan friends. 

            Have a safe holiday weekend, all of you in America!  Enjoy your July 4^th celebrations as I enjoy the beginning of my summer vacation

            Ping An (Peace) from Longzhou

Enjoying Nanning:  The Xiyuan Hotel

            My visits to Nanning (the capital city of Guangxi Province) have been very few over the past year so this was a great treat for me to enjoy myself last weekend in this widespread metropolis for 2 days.  Little Flower stayed behind with my co-teacher, Kate (Yan Chunjing), who looked after her during my visit away.  That left me free to enjoy the city on my own, especially the comforts of my chosen hotel, the Xiyuan  (shee-you-ehn).

Lucking Out

            I first landed in this place by accident.  I needed a place in Nanning to stay for the night before leaving early morning on the plane to Nanjing.  I hopped into the taxi and said, “I need a hotel.  Not too expensive but nice and clean.”

            The driver was a woman.  She thought for a moment and then said, “The Xiyuan Hotel?  Is that O.K.?”

            Since I had no idea, I just said that would be fine so off we went.

            I was a bit worried when, from the busy business street, she turned down  this quiet, shady road lined with gorgeous trees.  At the end was a gate that led into a huge grassy complex filled with trees and well-manicured lawns.

            Could I afford this place?  It looked like a conference center for big business, not a hotel for single tourists.

            I asked my driver to wait while I checked the rates as I didn’t believe this could possibly be cheap.

            The marble-floored reception room was huge, with a chandelier and coffee bar graced by a baby grand piano to the side.  I almost left as soon as I walked but as I was there, I decided it was best to ask the price anyway.

            I had to repeat the one-night rate twice because I couldn’t believe it.

            “200 yuan ($28) a night?  Really?”

            Well, I certainly wasn’t going to turn that one down.  When a Chinese low-budget travel hotel was about $16 (Chinese squat toilet, no towels, just bed and TV), might as well pay a bit extra and get posh surroundings.

            So that’s where I ended up staying and it has now been my regular overnight every time I visit Nanning.

What’s Special about the Xiyuan Hotel

            Now that I’ve stayed at this place for a number of times, I can tell you it’s a real winner.

            The air-conditioning is to-die for, first of all.  In sweltering 100 degrees heat outside, you want a hotel that will keep you pleasantly cool 24 hours a day. 

            Every room is equipped with a little balcony, which is great for fresh air.  Nice big towels, complimentary  toiletries, teas and hot pot are ready for use. Cable will get you local channels all over China (not overseas’, however) and there’s even a mini-fridge to keep your drinks cold.  The carpet is a bit worn with stains and scuff marks but so is every such hotel in China.  Nothing new.

            As a conference center, the hotel has a number of meeting buildings and main halls on their wide, beautifully kept grounds area.  These buildings are rather old in nature, probably dating from the “open door policy” of the 1980s, but they are kept up well.  It also seems there are quite a lot of companies and organizations that enjoy meeting there.  On several occasions, the place has been quite busy, although not so much that you would feel it crowded.

            What’s really fascinating is a European-style domed “palace” which I’m assuming was a foreigner’s club at one time, perhaps in the 1930’s.  It rests next to a large pond and in the evenings, it’s lovely to stroll along the forested walkways, listening to the frogs chirrup in the moonlight.

            The building, however, is no longer in use.  The large halls and high-ceilinged rooms  house ground maintenance items, such  as potted plants, lawn mowers and such.  The rooms on the upper floors are empty with tattered curtains dangling down from the windows.  Even though not in use, the edifice itself gives a special mysterious ambience to the place.

            Aside from the scenery, another real winner for me is the indoor swimming pool. The 25 meter, 4-lane pool is located in a building next to the club palace and has the same sort of architecture.  My guess is that this at one point was the club’s gym, which has now been gutted and refurbished with a brand new lap pool, oval floating pool and 2 whirlpools.

            For 38 yuan ($6), anyone can enjoy their time swimming or lounging on the decks out of the sun’s harmful rays. 

            As an avid swimmer, the pool is the main selling point for me.  And the fact that there are hardly any patrons at all makes it even better.   I usually have the entire place to myself.

Hanging Out in Yinxing Plaza

            When it comes to people watching, this hotel is the place to be.

            The hotel’s grounds are located just a 2-minute’s walk from Yinxing (in-shing) Plaza and a small roadside park.  The plaza is a tiled parking lot with my favorite Chinese grocery store, the Ren Ren Le (Everybody’s Happy), located underground.

            Everybody’s Happy is a chain store that is all over China in the bigger cities.   It’s the Chinese equivalent of Walmart, with clothing, appliances, sports equipment, toys, pet supplies, bakery and grocery items galore.  It’s a huge place that has everything and anything you’d ever want.  Very sanitary, clean, brightly lit, lots of sale specials and loaded with Chinese spending their money.

            If you love Chinese kids, the plaza is also the best photo-op for these little darlings.

            There are a number of small tents and play sets that appear in the evenings where parents can bring their kids to enjoy games, small rides and other activities.  There’s the plastic bubble pool to “splash” around in, the arts’ center where you can paint plaster figurines of favorite cartoon characters, coin-operated cars and animals to ride on, several roller blading sections to enjoy (flashing-wheeled skates for rent as well), “go-fish” mini-pools and large-sized rubber building blocks to use for creative constructions.

            Sometimes on a weekend evening, special groups perform to entertain the kids.  When I was there this past Friday, we had one such performance take place on a make-shift stage.  The adult youth leaders led us all in children’s songs, dances and games.  Lots of fun for the whole family, plus it was free.

            Aside from this outdoor performance, however, everything else did have a price.  Activities cost anywhere from 5 yuan to 20 yuan (75 cents to $3)  per hour, depending on what your kid preferred.

            Of course, kids get thirsty and hungry so parents were always pulling out their wallets to pay for drinks, ice cream bars, hotdog sticks and whatever else could be had from the nearby stands.

             Permanent tables and benches were always filled with those snacking away, resting after an evening of fun with the kids or shopping at the underneath Everybody’s Happy store.  Sitting here, enjoying my Diet Coke, I had a full hour’s entertainment watching people come and go or listening in on others’ leisure conversations.

The Local Park

            But there’s even more going on at this location.

            A mini-park next to the plaza is filled with those wanting some respite from roasting apartments that have no air-conditioning.  In the evenings, there are the elderly groups, gathering at different places for tai-chi (a traditional, slow-moving meditative exercise), Chinese fan and ribbon dancing, choir practice, and erhu (traditional violin) and accordion practice.  There are also the middle-aged exercise buffs who form neatly organized rows to do their gentle aerobics work-outs to taped music from their boom boxes.

            Others bring out their doggies to enjoy canine company time and the cool breezes of the night air.  And of course there are the lazy lot who just sit around on the stone benches, chit-chatting about the day’s events and sharing stories about surprising events in their neighborhoods.

Catching the Early Birds . . . Literally

            If you’d like to experience a different kind of crowd, your best bet is to hit the park in the morning.

            Starting as early as 6 a.m., you can catch the early risers here also doing their exercises but the main attraction for a foreigner would have to be the men with their birds.

            Chinese men love their caged birds.  Just like we walk our dogs about for a bit of fresh air, the Chinese men bring out their birdies in cages to enjoy the environment of trees, sunshine and open air.

            They line up their bamboo cages in rows, bring out their lawn chairs and lounge about.  They chirp at their pets, gossip with one another, sleep in the shade or just people-watch.  They’ll spend the entire morning doing this before heading home around noontime, returning the next morning to start up their routine again.

            I’ve never seen women in China participate in this kind of outing, only the men so I’m assuming it’s a guy thing, one of those male-bonding activities that we women just don’t get — sitting in the park for hours while chirping and watching your bird flutter about in its cage.

            Yup, that’s pretty much a mystery to me.

Returning Home

            After a 3-hour bus ride back to Longzhou on Saturday, I arrived  home late afternoon to a very happy Little Flower. My co-teacher, Kate, is a good babysitter but she’s definitely not Mother.  (Those of you who have spoiled pets know exactly what I mean.)

              It’s always nice to get away for a few days but also nice to return.  And it looks like I’ll be heading over Nanning way again. 

            Wednesday, June 16, brings a day off in China with our Dragon Boat Festival holiday.  To give students some extra travel time, our school is holding Monday and Tuesday classes on Saturday and Sunday this weekend, meaning Monday to Wednesday leaves those living nearby free to go home for a few days.

            It also leaves Little Flower and me time to head off to Nanning together.  Looks like Yinxing Plaza will have two interesting guests join its ranks very soon on an evening or an early morning.  We can’t wait!

             From Longzhou, here’s sending you Ping An (peace) and hoping your Dragon Boat Day will be just as enjoyable as ours.

Student Designers Hit the Runway

          Sunday night was a show to remember and brought out the crowds to our stage area.  What was the big fuss?  It was Fashion Week at Guangxi Normal University for Nationalities!

         Actually, it was more like fashion night.

         For over 2 months, I’ve been watching small groups gathering during the siesta hour, standing in the shade of buildings while strutting their stuff.  Female students  in high heeled shoes practiced their walks while guys struck masculine poses at the end of imaginary runways.  The big event they were practicing for arrived this evening. 

         Students from the design department were about to show off their yearly creations in the annual school fashion show.  Plenty of stage rehearsals followed for 3 days so everyone would know their stage marks, their maneuvers and funky poses to wow the audience. 

         For myself, it was a lot of fun seeing what magnificent clothes the students had come up with.  My favorites, as seen in the photos, were the environmental clothes — those made from sanitation items often discarded (tin foil, toilet paper, garbage bags, plastics, paper and such). Very innovative and quite impressive for a 3-year college.

         (Enjoy the photos!)

 Yearly Physical Exams Now Required

            Each year, China’s provincial governments require their foreign language teachers to have a physical exam in order to renew their work visas.  It used to be a physical was only required when we first came to China.  These were done in our home countries with necessary Chinese forms filled out by our local doctors.

            After that initial health document was completed, schools were able not only to get the required work visa for their teachers but also renew those visas every year.  Another physical exam wasn’t required, which I always thought was rather odd because you never know what unhealthy bugs we might pick up during our year (or years) in China.

             Three years ago, the Chinese government seemed to be in agreement with me.

            New regulations now require foreign teachers to have yearly examinations from accredited provincial Entry-Exit Inspection and Quarantine clinics. These clinics are usually set up in the provincial capital cities meaning travel is necessary for those of us who aren’t in those places.

            Mostly, these new edicts were to make sure we didn’t have any communicable diseases, such as AIDS, STD’s or TB.  Another reason for the yearly exams was for insurance purposes. Both domestic and international insurance benefits require a background check of some sort, just the same as in the States.  If schools need to insure their foreign teachers, yearly physicals are important.

             This was especially important for Chinese who are to work overseas, either as white-collar workers in the fields of education and business or blue-collar workers such as day-laborers to Hong Kong and Vietnam or riverboat and international sea sailors.  These individuals are also required to take the exam as well. 

           Many of the blue-collar workers, in from the countryside, haven’t even been inoculated for basic diseases. Polio, TB, hepititis, mumps and measles, and rubella immunizations, for example, often have not been administered to those from the poorer areas of China.  The center makes sure they have these as adults before they are issued permit visas to work outside of the country.

Connie Gets Her Yearly Check-up

            During the last 2 years, I’ve had my physicals done in Chengdu at their clinic. 

            It was a very professional set-up.  We had a check-in station, our information was typed into the computer along with our photograph, we paid a fee of 300 yuan ($45) and then off we went to different stations for our health check-up.  We had blood work, eyes and ears, EKG, chest X-ray, sonogram and a general health once-over.  All the rooms were numbered and we just went from one to another, finishing the entire process in about 30 minutes. 

            After 3 working days, we returned to pick up our results, which included a print-out of the tests and stamped certificate that we had passed.

            A week ago, I traveled to Nanning to have my annual physical done for this province.  I found the inspection center just as efficient, professional and fast as the one in Chengdu. 

            This past Friday, I returned to Nanning to pick up my certificate, which came in the form of a small passport-sized booklet that can easily be carried around on trips. That was a nice surprise from the flimsy paper I’ve received before.  China definitely has improved their method of health documentation from 3 years ago.  Very classy!

            In another entry, I’ll enjoy telling you about my visit in Nanning but as I have a few lessons to attend to, I’ll save that for another day.

            Ping An from Longzhou!

The College Youth of Countryside Farmers

           Today, I was walking the dog around our campus when a few of my students at the girls’ dorm invited me in for a sit.  It was hot outside and Little Flower was in need of water so I took them up on the offer.

            I was quickly offered a stool to sit on, papaya was cut up for a tasty treat and Little Flower had her water bowl to quench her thirst.

            Being together in such an intimate setting then allowed me to learn quite a lot about their lives at home and summer holidays.

A Farmer’s Life

            Almost all of my students are from remote farming regions here in Guangxi.  And almost all of their parents are farmers.

            Farmers account for 70% of the population in China.  An estimated 700 million rural farmers provide 60% of the food for the country with their average income being  $300 to $450 a year.  Those considered at the extreme poverty level make less than $120 a year.

            But among my students, I learned that many of their families have no income at all.  They live off the land with few appliances to help them in their daily rituals. Home-grown peanuts are pressed into peanut oil for cooking.  Vegetables grown year-round become the staple for meals.  Raised pigs and chickens are their protein supply.  Washing clothes by hand in nearby streams and rivers are a daily chore.  No refrigerators or air conditioners, of course, and in many cases, some households don’t have TVs. 

            Why not a TV?  Because a majority in the countryside don’t speak Chinese but the local village dialect or ethnic minority language of their people.  This province  especially has numerous minority peoples, including the Zhuang, Dong, Yi, Mao, Hui, Shui, Mulao, Maonan and Gin (who are a Vietnamese ethnic group).  For these people, TV programs to them are a foreign language.  And being illiterate, they can’t even read the Chinese subtitles on the screen.  National and world news to them are unimportant.  Just surviving in their village takes up all their energy and time.

Education in China Isn’t Cheap

            Not wanting their children to have such a hard life, these farming families do their utmost to send their children to school. 

            That’s not easy.

            The cost per year for our small 3-year vocational college is 5,000 yuan ($800) for tuition and 700 yuan ($100) for dorms. 4-year universities can cost even more.

              Students also have to pay for books (perhaps $40 a semester) and necessary national exams to graduate.

            The biggest of these national exams are the CET tests.

            CET means College English Test.  This series of tests is the national test for English as a Foreign Language here in China.  All students at the undergraduate level must pass the CET-2.  

             For the English majors at the vocational level, their requirements are to pass the CET-3.  If they’d like better opportunities in getting jobs after college, passing the CET-4 and CET-6 is likewise a good idea.

            These tests, of course, cost money.  Each time you take the test, it’s $7.00.  Quite a few fail and take them again, adding even more dollars to the cost of school.

            Then we have costs that involve the necessity just to live — namely, food.

            On average, a girl student will spend about $50 a month on her meal card, a boy around $80.  That certainly adds up over the school year.  Most I talk to just have bread buns, hard-boiled eggs, fruit and milk to cut down on their food costs.  These they get from sellers outside the gate or pick  up  from our small campus shop.

            Not a lot to sustain a person but it’s better than nothing.

The Summer Holiday Job Stories

            “How do you pay for everything?” I asked my group while munching on my papaya.

            Borrowing from relatives and friends was one answer.  Another was working during the summer vacation in the factories down south.

            Guangxi Province is very close to Guangdong (Canton), where “Made in China” factories thrive.  Most of my students work for 4-6 weeks during their holidays in these places to help their parents with the monetary burden of going to school.

            I asked about the conditions of the factories they worked at.   

            Basic non-climate controled dorm rooms for 8 (bunkbeds, a toilet, a sink) are provided for workers but purchasing food is their own responsibility.  They can either go to the factory cafeteria or outside. 

            Roommates are iffy.  If you don’t know them, best to carry all your money and valuables with you or expect your things to be stolen.

            As for the kind of work they did last year:  One student worked in an ice-cream factory, 10 hours a day (midnight shift) for 6 days a week.  This job she enjoyed more than others because the manager wasn’t around.  She and her workmates could eat as much free ice cream as they wanted.  Their pay depended on how many boxes of ice cream bars they packed.  300 a night was the average for her team, with each box holding 100 bars.

            That’s a lot of ice cream! 

             Another student worked in a toy factory for 12 hours a day, 6 days a week.  Yet another in an electronic’s factory, 12 hours a day for 7 days a week, putting wires into computer mouse mechanisms.       

            Their pay ranged from 1,200 yuan to 2,000 yuan ($190 – $280) for 6 weeks of work. Hardly enough to cover the $800-plus our school requires.

            In one case, the girl said she quit due to exhaustion after 5 days standing 12 hours straight at the assembly lines.  Her pay?  Nothing.  Workers are paid by the month, not the week, so if you don’t stick it out those 30 days, you’re out of luck.

Hopes for the Future

            I asked about their hopes for the future, after college.

            Since these students are the first in their family to get a higher education, they’ll most likely be the main breadwinners after they finish school to help repay what was spent on their education.  It’s a big burden, especially since finding job is so difficult.

            In this area of the country especially, white-collar work is hard to come by. Guangxi is a poor province and city jobs are for university graduates, many who have connections.    Those that come to these small vocational schools in remote areas don’t stand much of a chance to succeed in China.  Despite having an education, they might still be stuck returning to factory work to help out their families. 

            But at least for now, they can enjoy an environment of learning and holding onto their future dreams.

Returning-to-Home Thoughts

            After an hour of visiting, Little Flower and I made our way across campus to my apartment.

             I was just thinking about my own university life where we complained constantly about all sorts of things:  The air-conditioning was too cold, the vending machines didn’t carry snacks we liked, there weren’t enough washing machines and dryers, or being broke and having to beg Mom and Dad for that extra $50 to fill our cars with gas.   Then more complaining about how little we were paid in our summer jobs, working as lifeguards, fast-food servers, office temps, babysitters, or check-out cashiers.  All jobs where we were making at least $5.00 an hour (in today’s world even more) and at most,  took in 5-8 hours a day in comfy settings.

            There was only one thing to think after listening to my students:  American students really don’t know how very lucky they are.   I certainly didn’t when I was in school, but I sure do now.   Too bad more of us don’t realize that sooner, appreciate our lives more and give some thought to others who aren’t quite so fortunate.

            Until next time, Ping An (Peace) from Longzhou.

Not Fitting In

            Isaac (Qin Haibo) is a bit strange.

            Even I could sense the oddness about him when I first met him.  It made other students shy away, not wanting to have much to do with him.

            He has a disturbing manner about him that isolates him and throws him into the non-conformity category.  Being a non-conformist in Chinese society automatically sets you up for being weird.  I can just imagine that his dormitory mates, who usually form very strong relationships with one another, pretty much ignore him. 

            He never eats with anyone in the cafeteria.

            He never walks with friends around the campus.

            He never plays sports along with everyone else after classes have ended for the day.

            Every time I see him, even outside the school gate for a shopping venture, he’s always by himself.

            But in our English Center, Isaac has found a home.

Our English Center:  A Haven for the Odd

             He began hanging out there last semester, hovering about.  Since we didn’t yet have English games, he just wanted to play Chinese checkers or Chinese card games  with whoever was available.  He came with a daily regularity that I wished my first year students would follow.  In fact, I often pointed out his attendance to those who always complained that their English was terrible.

             “How can I improve?” they constantly hounded me, as they always do to us foreign language teachers.

            “Go to the English Center and practice!”  I told them.  “Follow the example of a 2^nd year student, Isaac.  He goes every week.”

One Who Is Different

            Isaac is a second year Business English major who last year had our two Amity teachers from Sweden for his conversation classes. 

            This year, only the 1^st year students have a foreign teacher.  That’s me.  The others are left with Chinese English teachers.  They are quite competent in their subject areas but it’s still not the same as a native speaker.

            Isaac has a fairly good vocabulary in the language but it’s just speaking and listening that he can’t get a handle on.

            Nothing new for most Chinese.

              Like we Americans used to do in Latin classes years ago, language learning in this country is reading, memorizing words, grammar exercises and translation.  Actually using the language isn’t a key component in the coursework.

            But instead of practicing to improve what he needs improving on, Isaac’s one who would rather play games.  Whether Chinese games, Internet video games or English games, it doesn’t matter.  If it’s some sort of game activity, Isaac is keen to try.

             This most likely has been what  entices him to come the  Center every day.  That and the fact that he has nothing else to do since no one will hang out with him.

             In the English Center, you’re bound to find someone who’s willing to play a game, no matter how weird the person asking is.

            For myself, I can always count on Isaac for a round of Scrabble, which he took to like a pro, or Uno, the card game which seems to have a strong fan-base after everyone got the main idea how it’s played.

            While other students watch movies, Isaac eagerly bops about from person to person and, in his off-hand manner, commands, “You!  Play games. Scrabble?  Uno?”

            He snatches up the games and waves them about for emphasis.

            Naturally, those kind of bizarre invites draw him frowns and some amount of wariness. 

            If no one takes him up on his offer, Isaac has a habit of sulking.  He especially does this if it’s English conversation time in the Center.  That’s one thing Isaac just isn’t  interested in at all.  He’s not about to participate in something that he cares little about.

            “No!” he’ll say if we ask him to join us for a circle talk. “I don’t like.”

            He’ll sometimes sit in a corner to wait until we’re finished.  Then it’s, “O.K.  Enough talk.  Uno?  Scrabble?”

            Other times, he just takes off.

            Most Chinese have a leave-taking sequence of sentences: “I have something else to do.  I must go now,” “I’m very busy these days.  My classmates are waiting for me,” “I have a meeting so I must go.”

            Isaac, on the other hand, just disappears out the door with not a word.

            Yes, Isaac is a bit strange.

Grateful for the Center, not only for Isaac, but the volunteers as well

            Yet it’s students like Isaac that I’m so grateful we have our English Center for him to visit every day.  It’s the one place he knows he can count on to come and have community time with those who outside this one room keep him at a distance.

            And it’s also imperative for our volunteers to have practice in reaching out to those in their society who just don’t quite fit in. 

            At the beginning of the semester, some of the volunteers were a bit upset about Isaac. They said he was disruptive.  He was strange.  He spoke a lot of Chinese instead of English.  What to do about him? 

            So I had a little sit-down with the volunteers.

           I explained that this was Isaac’s home.  No one liked him much outside the Center and it was our job to be his friend.  Let him speak Chinese but just always answer in English.  Engage him in more game time.  It won’t hurt you to play a game or two with Isaac, even if you don’t want to.  Just make sure to welcome him with smiles, not frowns or stares, when he appears at the door. 

            A part of being a good volunteer in the Center is to encourage those who are embarrassed by their English or are afraid to speak.  We want them to  feel comfortable enough to try.  It might take awhile, but in the end, we can win them all over, even Isaac.

Property as Mission

            Recently, I received an email from Lola Linstad, one who’s very involved in her UMW unit (United Methodist Women).  She sent me a note about a recent UMW  meeting.  The four coordinators, herself included,  gave a special observance of Call to Prayer and Self-denial with the theme, “Property Makes Mission Possible.”   Their focus was how the things we donate, use or buy make mission itself possible, things such as equipment, building materials, office supplies,  and, as in the case of our English Center, donated  books, games, and DVDs. 

            We often don’t think about things as bringing about Christian mission but in my case, I’d say our English Center is the perfect example. 

            The donated property that many over the years have helped to fill the Center with have made it possible for people like Isaac, and our volunteers, to create their own mission in life. Whether it’s improving language skills, gathering for community time, getting to know the foreign teacher on a more personal basis, or learning life skills how to get along with others, this Center provides it all. 

            It brings blessings to all of us every day and I have no doubt those blessings will follow us, including myself, throughout our entire lives.  I know it definitely has made a difference in the life of Isaac.  I’m sure if asked, he’d whole-heartedly agree.

            From Longzhou, in our sweltering heat, sending you “Ping An” for your day.

Lean and Mean

            I’m one of those lean-meats kind of people.  Pork loins and chicken breasts are high up there on my protein list but in smalltown China, those are a bit tricky to purchase.

            In the open air meat market, which is the only place here to go for fresh selections, sellers expect you to eat like the Chinese.  In other words, everything goes, from jiggling, blubbery pork fat to every animal innard imaginable. Heads, feet, eyes, guts and skin are  goodies left up for grabs to the public.

            The Chinese eat it all.

            Unfortunately, the foreigner doesn’t, or rather this foreigner doesn’t.

            Trying to talk sellers into giving me just the best bits of a huge slab tossed on the butcher’s cutting block has been a challenge.

              From day one, it was walking the aisles to find one or two willing enough to help me out.  Among the pork sellers, I managed a fairly good rapore which landed me choice loin cuts but I still had to get the whole shebang by buying what the meat was attached to.  That left me dealing with back bones and extended rib cages once I got home.

             Thank goodness for the dog.  She reaps the rewards of my unwanted purchases by getting a small cooked bone every evening before bed. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’d be throwing out a great deal of still tasty, gnawable parts of a good pig.

Chicken Breasts?  Another story

            Pork loins are one thing but getting chicken breasts, I quickly found, was quite another matter altogether.

            No poultry seller was willing to destroy an entire chicken just for the foreigner to have the white meat.  It was either buy the entire chicken (freshly plucked, rubbery skinned, with neck, head, feet and all still intact) or buy a half a chicken or buy a fourth of a chicken with the delectable leg and wing awaiting the cooking pot.

            Since chicken bones are pretty much out for dogs, and dark meat was not something I cared for, that left me dealing with parts of the bird my pickiness  refused to eat.

             Throwing out good meat was just too sinful in my mind so I turned to the Chinese.  

            I tried giving my neighbors and colleagues the chicken parts not my favorites but after awhile, it was a bit embarrassing.  My Chinese friends didn’t understand they were doing me a favor by taking from me what was considered to them the most delicious and best part of the bird.  They felt overly obligated to return my generosity instead. 

            Things got a bit messy, relationship-wise, so I just gave up on buying chicken and stuck to pork.

Making an Inroad

            Thus it’s been  for 7 months now with me passing by the poultry section of the market and heading directly to the pork sellers. 

            When the swine butchers see me coming, their eyes light up.

           “Lai,  lai, waiguo pengyou!  (Come, come, foreign friend!)” they shout, holding up what they know I’m looking for, hoping that I’ll land at their stall. 

            They know I’m a great customer.   I load up every week or two on quite a lot to freeze at home for my daily use.  

            Always during these occasions, the poultry sellers look on with envy and frustration:   If the foreigner buys all that pork, why won’t she buy chicken as well?

            It was just by chance last Sunday that I happened to be in the market around 10:30 a.m., which is not my usual shopping time. What did I see, as I headed to pork stalls, but a nicely cut-out chicken breast waiting for purchase.

            A great find!  I snatched it up immediately, asking the poultry seller if she had more. 

            She shook her head.

            Could she cut me another one from the whole birds lining her table?

            She was very reluctant to do this, frowned and made a rather snotty facial expression that said, “Are you kidding?!  Not possible.”

            But the next seller over, seeing this was an opportunity, waved me into her cubicle.

            “You want this one?” she said, holding onto a hefty chicken and motioning she’d cut me what I wanted.

            “I’ll take as many as you can give me,” I replied eagerly.

            And that’s how it started:  I made an inroad with a poultry seller. 

            “Come back tomorrow,” she brightened.  “How much do you want?  One pound?  Two pounds?”
            “You prepare it, I’ll buy it,” I said.

            We set a time of 12:30 the next day.  She wanted me to come earlier.  That would allow her more time to sell the parts of the bird I didn’t want to other Chinese, shopping before lunch. But I explained I was teaching until noon.  That’s the earliest I could get there.

            She paused a moment.  She seemed a bit skeptical that I’d show up but agreed reluctantly. 

             If she set aside all this meat and I didn’t come, she’d be left having to sell it to the Chinese who most likely wouldn’t want just the breasts.  They’d want an entire chicken. That would mean throwing out what wasn’t sold at the end of the day.            

           Obviously, a great loss of money to her.

            From my end, I wasn’t going to let this prized moment pass by.  No matter what, I was going to make it to her stall at 12:30 the next day to show that, yes, the foreigner’s word can be trusted.

Sealing the Deal

            The next day was a sizzler, reaching high into the 90s.  After a full morning of teaching in a sweltering classroom, I was stinky, tired, and in no mood to go shopping.  The last thing I wanted to do was walk into town under that relentless southern Chinese sun to get chicken breasts.

            But my seller was waiting.   I had made a promise. I was obligated to keep it.

            So I sucked it up and off I went, trudging along the dusty, heated Longzhou streets, under the shade of my umbrella, to the outdoor market.

            What a big smile awaited me, along with 2 pounds of chicken breasts, after I arrived. 

             It was quite a noontime show, the foreigner loading up on her chicken breasts.  The other poultry sellers were full of regret, having missed out on what they now saw was a great relationship (and money-maker) between one of their own and the foreigner.

             The pork sellers, in the meantime,  kept glancing my way, now discovering that there was some competition involved here.

            Obviously, they’d have to work a bit harder to entice me over next time I was cruising the market aisles.

Same-o, Same-o Dinners Take A Back Burner

            After having pork for so long, chicken has been a great change of pace for me.            

           Now we come to a dilemma:   How to please both the poultry and pork sellers so they’ll continue to regard me as their special customer and leave the best selections out for my scrutiny.   

            Juggling between the two won’t be easy but I’ll figure it out somehow. 

            Until next entry, here’s wishing you Ping An (peace) for your day.

Sweltering on the Weekend

            Friday noontime had me trekking into town for my weekly meat run at the open air market.

            12:00 to 2:30 p.m. is the Chinese siesta hour, where all students and faculty are crashed in beds for their afternoon naps after lunch.   And especially in this heat, as our temperatures now shoot into the humid, sticky, suffocating 90s, very few dare to venture out.

           But there I was, during our Friday siesta hours, meeting student after student coming back from the downtown stores. 

            What would bring them out at this time of day, missing naps and struggling through the southern China heat?

            None other than table fan purchases.

            I must have run into 10 sweating students, each lugging a fan they had just purchased to put in their dorm rooms.  With 8 to a room, no air-conditioning or ceiling fans, I can imagine how horribly hot they all must be. 

            The small household appliance sellers will certainly be making a killing this weekend.

             A small fan can do a lot to move the air around.  I should know as I have two of them in my huge, 6-room  apartment.  My sitting room has a current temperature of 86 so a fan goes a long way in keeping the dog and me somewhat comfortable. . . if we don’t move around a lot.

            Yes, I do have an air-conditioner but as is the custom in China, it is located in the bedroom for night use only.  It’s also quite small.  I’m usually lucky if it cools down the room to 75.

Saturday’s Playdate Gets a Bit Wild

            Despite the fans blowing constantly, that certainly wasn’t enough comfort for my Saturday playdate with the neighborhood kids.  As always, they appeared at my door at 3 p.m. for our 1-hour of  visit-the-foreigner time. 

            We have drinks and cookies.  We draw pictures.  We play games. We chit-chat and I try to get them to use as much English as possible.   Usually, the visits are very tame and quiet, depending on who shows up. 

            Yesterday, however, things got a bit wild.

            We started out at a calm, quiet pace. 

            Amy (Huang Yawei) was having her 11^th birthday so we celebrated with candles atop a muffin surrounded by Oreo cookies.

             She got the muffin and the rest of us had the Oreo cookies.

            The fan’s comforting  blow was just right until we started the mini-frisbee throw.  That pretty much ended the restful part of the visit.  The excited  kids began grabbing and snatching at the throw toy while running around the room. 

              Locking one another in the foreigner’s bathroom then became the next novel activity along with barking back at a very upset Little Flower, who was shut up in the back bedroom for safety purposes.  (Both her safety and our xiao pengyou‘s, little friends’.)

            4 p.m. couldn’t come soon enough for me, let me tell you!

            By the time the happy, exuberant band of young people left,  the apartment seemed to have heated up to over 100, with my patience index mounting to about that level as well.

            Don’t get me wrong.  I do like the Chinese kids to come by.  They are usually very well-behaved and never a problem but yesterday, the heat just got to us all.

Happy Mom’s Day!

            Before closing, I just wanted to wish our mom readers a Happy Mother’s Day.

           After yesterday’s 1-hour with the kids, I can certainly appreciate your tolerance level (and joy) in being a mom. 

From Longzhou, here’s sending a Ping An (Peace) for your special day, Moms.    

English Center Updates

            The English Center volunteers were becoming frustrated.

            Last semester, those who came to the English Center rarely checked out books, spoke in English or seemed to take advantage of the language opportunity set before them.  Instead, they silently watched DVD movies on the Center’s TV.  Sometimes, they put on the Chinese subtitles and didn’t even bother following English captions.

            This semester, things changed.

            After a meeting, the volunteers changed the schedule of the English Center.  Every day would be a different activity geared toward helping visitors use their language ability.   The new format would be:

            Monday – Game Day

            Tuesday – Movie Day

            Wednesday – Storytelling (reading aloud books or free talk)

            Thursday – Free Talk on Assigned Subjects

            Friday – Movie Day

            So this semester, we’ve had a change which has resulted in a different kind of environment for our English learners. 

            To support the Center’s new move, I’ve been visiting 3 to 4 times a week during their hours (4 – 6 p.m.) to help get things rolling.  Since there weren’t any games, I donated 3 Scrabble games, 2 Boggle games and 1 deck of Uno cards.  These, by the way, were sent to me by UMW units a few years ago.   I’ve been holding onto them for just the right place to put them.

            Our English Center was it.

            After teaching the volunteers how to play all three, they now are able to teach newcomers who show up and are looking for something other than movies to watch.

            Although the movie crowd wasn’t very happy, they still have 2 days to enjoy their films.  The rest of us can enjoy some quality language time doing other things. 

            So far, the volunteers think it’s a successful venture and will continue to the end of the semester.

An Evening of Patriotic Singing

            May 1^st marked the country’s Labor Day, which brought with it a holiday on Monday.  In honor of the occasion, the Student Union decided to host a choral contest for the entire school.   Every class could participate with the first song being an old Communist gung-ho favorite and the second being any patriotic number of choice.

             Elimination rounds took  place for 6 weeks with the finals held last Friday evening, the day before the national holiday.

            Out of the 15 classes chosen, I’m proud to say our Foreign Language Department had 7 choirs, one being the Thai language majors and the rest being English students from among the 1^st and 2^nd year students. Other participants were from the PE, Chinese and Management majors.

            Judges were those from outside the school to make the event fair.  Leaders from our Chongzuo school were invited to watch, including Party Secretary Li.

Attending the Contest:  Moments of “Ouch!”

            With nothing else to do on a Friday night, I went to listen to the choirs and show support for our English majors.  Vice-dean Liang Ling and I sat together for the entire 2 ½ hour performance. 

            We certainly enjoyed the grand show although, vouching for myself, often-times not the singing.

            Chinese equate happiness with loudness.  The louder you are, the happier you are, and this certainly carries over to Chinese choirs.  Even the TV professionals belt out songs with great gusto and enthusiasm with little attention paid to musical quality.  No dynamics. No parts.  No variations.  Just one, loud, in-unison, shouting “love-the-motherland, fight-for-victory, never-give-up” sentimentality.

            For our own choral contest, it was pretty much the same idea.

            Notes were flat.  Melodies were lost.  Lyrics were screamed.

            The loudspeakers added even more to the earsplitting numbers that deafened us at times.  The microphones picked up every little wail and screech that took place from our soloists.

            And, yes, there were many screeching soloists.  (Too many.)

A Definite Love-of-Country Atmosphere

            Despite what seems to be a horrific description of the night, it was the enthusiasm and excitement from the students performing that gave the night its star quality shine.        

            Everyone had worked so hard, practicing day and night for weeks to get this far.  They had perfected their movements, added signs and banners to wave at appropriate moments, rented outfits or had them made, and had taken the stage with pride, honor and a true love-of-country spirit. 

            The audience, too, was 100% behind their classmates.  Every choir member, every song, every choreographed movement was cheered and applauded.    

            Just sitting in the midst of it all, sharing comments with my colleague, Liang Ling, gave me a feeling of belonging to a very strong-knit community. 
            So what if no one was of  Tabernacle Choir caliber. It was just fun to share in the moment.

            From Longzhou, here’s wishing you Ping An (peace) for your May Day!