connie's space

            This morning, Little Flower and I took a final walk around the campus of  Luzhou Vocational and Technical College before leaving for Chengdu. 

            Cruising by the empty dormitories, I was met by quite a sight:  A huge mess of trash and left-behind articles from students who had gone home for their summer break.  The workers were busy starting from the top 7^th and 6^th  floors and sweeping everything out into the hallway, then down the stairwells toward the 1^st floor exits. 

            I remember in the States how utterly amazed I was as a 32-year-old MA student when I saw what my university classmates were leaving behind in heaps outside of dormitory buildings:  couches, sofas, beds, still operational computers, stereo sets, TVs, unwanted clothing, electrical appliances .  .  . the list went on.

             I was stunned by the amount of waste. 

            As an undergraduate in the late 1980’s, I certainly didn’t remember this kind of wealth being left behind in such astronomical quantities.

            I remember thinking, 10 years later,  how college school life had certainly changed, maybe not for the better.

            I’m sure it’s gotten  worse in the States when schools dismiss for the summer, even with the current financial crisis.

            In China, the student rubbish left behind is of a different variety:  worn plastic thermos bottles, used toiletries, metal  mugs, unwanted textbooks, notebooks, broken suitcases, old shoes and clothing. 

            The dorm rooms are left a disgusting mess which workers are left to thoroughly clean out by hand before the summer’s end.

           It’s a tireless job and one which they certainly don’t look forward to, especially as their pay is at best 300 yuan ($40) a month, but it does come with perks.

            Walking by one of the dorm buildings, I noticed several cleaning ladies had already carefully  separated and packaged students’ discarded items into neat packages.  The recycling man, with his hand-pulled cart, was busy on the scene, weighing each one and shouting out the number of pounds by his hand-held Chinese scale.  The assistants wrote it down, later multiplying the pounds by the money each variety group was bringing in. Plastics, rubber, cardboard, metal and glass were going for a few cents per pound. 

            Doesn’t sound like much but these certainly added up.

            By the end of his weighing session, the total recyclable materials brought the ladies 511 yuan, about $75.  Split between them, that was quite a haul and this was only several floors’ worth of stuff.

            I can imagine after going through all our dormitories on campus, that hard work and agony of hauling, separating and packaging unwanted belongings makes for a very profitable venture.

            As the old saying goes:  “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

            On our college campus, and I’m guessing thousands of other campuses across the country, that’s a definite given when it comes to the end of a school year.

             Here’s Little Flower and me wishing you a final July Ping An (peace) from the campus of our school.  We’re heading off tomorrow for Chengdu and my visit to the States with Lao-lao.  More updates on that journey yet to come.

The 2-Week Whirlwind Ride

            These past 2 weeks of leaving Luzhou have been a whirlwind.  I entitle them “The Last Hurah,” although they actually aren’t exactly the finalized steps of saying goodbye yet.

            The first week (also the week of final exams) had me being visited by friends and students, banqueted by staff and administrators, packing up belongings into boxes, taking care of the doggies, squeezing in my swimming time and getting those last-minute details settled for my move to Guangxi.

            Last Sunday morning, June 28, the movers came to load everything onto the truck.  It was a 4-day drive to deliver my things to Longzhou (long-joe),  my new school far to the south near the Vietnamese border.

            Immediately after everything had been shoved onto the truck (all 69 boxes and small furnishings), Little Flower, Little Old and I left for the capital city Chengdu to prepare our little foster dog for his overseas’ travel to America and my summer visit to the States. 

            Originally, that was to be my final departure from Luzhou.

            But I ran into planning difficulties of not being able to truly say goodbye to some very good friends, as well as my Luzhou church community.  Pastor Liao especially was concerned when she heard I was leaving and wouldn’t return.

Schedule Change

            So a rearranging of my schedule had me in Chengdu for 6 days (June 28 – July 4), getting LO ready for his flight to Shanghai and visiting with Jalin’s family.  On Friday the 3^rd, LO and I flew to Shanghai for his 6-day kennel stay prior to his overseas’ trip with me.  He is currently there at the relocation pet company’s kennel where all his customs forms can be accurately completed.

            I then returned to Chengdu, grabbed up a few things and returned to Luzhou with Little Flower so I could have a better closure than the original whirlwind departure.

Back In Luzhou:  A Quiet Campus

            It’s a strange feeling to be back in my small apartment on the campus, especially as all the clutter and most of my things are gone.  The school was very generous in allowing me to return for a few days, even though I am officially no longer their teacher.

            The silence of the campus is yet another strange feeling, especially late in the evenings. 

            During our late-night strolls, all the dormitories are silent with just a few lights on for students who applied for summer stays.  Some are here looking for jobs in order to pay for school as their countryside areas have nothing much to offer them as far as work goes.  Others don’t have the money to spend to get home as it’s a very long journey.  Still others have parents who are migrant workers.  They’re across country, in Shanghai or Guangzhou, doing factory work or temporary construction jobs.  The students have no way of staying with them as factory dormitories are for workers, not so much family members. 

          Parents, too, would rather have their kids safely looked after on our campus than roaming about among strange areas where thieves and disreputable people are often found.

Leisure Goodbyes

           I am really appreciating these few days back because I am now able to enjoy my time with the people I like the most.  Church yesterday was so appropriate as I had my last communion with the congregation members.  Pastor Liao was quite busy with a visiting Chengdu Theological Seminary pastor  so we didn’t have a lot of time to chat but it was enough for a prayer and cheerful farewell.

            My dear friend and former dean of this college, “Cathy” Li, and I are spending the evenings together.  I’ve already seen her son, “Jack”, after his 1^st year as a student in Beijing.  Little Flower and I visited her apartment the other evening.  Tonight, we’ll be heading out again for dinner.

            It’s been a very relaxing, fun return, one which will get me ready for a more adventurous journey soon with Lao-lao (Little Old) on our travel to America.

The Schedule From Now On

            Tomorrow, July 7, will see me back to Chengdu. 

            July 8, Wednesday, Little Flower will be sent to her babysitter’s home (Mrs. He) for her stay there for 3 weeks. 

            July 9, Thursday, has me in Shanghai with Lao-lao (Little Old) for an overnight at the hotel before we fly out early morning  on July 10, Friday, to America.

            July 10 to August 3 will have me in Marshall, Illinois, with my parents, and getting important matters taken care of.

            On August 5, I will be back in Chengdu. I’ve already planned a re-visit to Luzhou for a few days to spend more time with dear friends there.

            Aug. 15,  I must visit my new school far to the south to have my work visa completed, which will take 1 week.  During that time, I have no passport so I must remain in the small town of Longzhou. 

            This is actually quite fine with me.  It will allow me to unpack, open a bank account and telephone line, meet the locals, go shopping and get myself settled in.

            Aug. 23 has me flying directly to Nanjing for our Amity Foundation Summer Conference.  We have only 4 new teachers this year, all from Europe.  It makes our numbers extremely thin but better four than none. 

            Aug. 26 has me back in Chengdu to pick up Little Flower from her babysitter’s home.  Then we will travel down to Guangxi Province and arrive just in time to begin the fall semester in our new home, Guangxi Normal University for Nationalities.

Updates To Come

            During the summer, I will do my best to update you on our foster dog’s progress in finding a home as well as other events going on.  I hope to have Net access as well in my new placement when I arrive so as to orient everyone to my new surroundings. 

           80% of Guangxi Province and my area are the Zhuang nationality people, not the Han Chinese, so this will truly be an amazing venture: different landscape, different dialect, different people, different culture and customs, and different church community.

            A very exciting way to start off a school year! 

          Until those further stories arrive, wishing you all Ping An (peace) for your week.

            “We’re just so busy,” Chen Li, Mr. Xiong’s wife, said as I sat in the family’s small apartment.

            The heat was terribly oppressive in their flat.  Sweat was pouring off of me, dripping down on Lao-lao’s little body where he was perched contentedly on my lap. 

            We had cut our 3-day visit short because the family was worried about their ability to care for the dog.  

            Chen Li had a government job which kept her working late into the night, often carrying out special hosting duties with official dignitaries in town.  Mr. Xiong  likewise was extremely busy at our school, not only teaching evening classes but also writing educational documents that needed to be turned in quickly.

            Their 13-year-old son, Xiong Chen, was in his 1^st year as a junior high student.  He had classes all day and didn’t get home until 7 p.m.  Then there were Saturday and Sunday courses that he also attended in order to prepare himself for the entrance exam into high school.  Although those tests were 2 years away, like a typical teenager in China, he was already busy preparing for them now.

            It was after 9 p.m. as I sat together with the three of them and also 2 of my students.  Seven had come over that evening to help assemble more boxes for my packing.  When I mentioned to the group I was heading out by taxi to pick up Lao-lao, two wanted to tag along.

            The stories of Lao-lao’s short visit began to unfold as we all visited in the sweltering, stuffy sitting room. 

             He was very frightened at first of everyone, especially the young boy who so much wanted a little dog top play with.  The teen had taken him for a few walks but Lao-lao wanted mostly to run away.  And he certainly didn’t want to return to the apartment but continue on longer treks around their neighborhood.

             Chen Li mentioned that it was difficult for her to continue going up and down the 6 flights of stairs to take him out.  She was tired and just wanted a quick outing. Lao-lao, on the other hand, had been cooped up all day and was ready for a real walk like he often had with Little Flower and me. 

            While listening to their apologies of not being good enough caretakers for Lao-lao, I truly felt sorry for them.  Mr. Xiong had been so pleased and excited about getting a little dog.  And it was obvious his son was already attached, even after 2 days.  He sat next to me, his little face saddened to have to say goodbye.  He gently stroked Lao-lao, who squirmed with enjoyment, and seemed to be holding back tears. 

            Mom, on the other hand, was more like the sensible, practical one in the family.  I got the impression that she was groaning when the dog landed in the apartment.  She wasn’t at all pleased her husband had done this.  She probably griped at him that no one had time to care for a dog and she’d be the one left taking care of it.

            (I did notice she had mentioned having to climb up and down the 6 flights of stairs several times to let the dog out.  Not sure where the son and husband were when she was doing that but they obviously weren’t in the picture.)

              It was a disappointing trial but at least we tried. 

           After thanking them again for all their help, and also apologizing for causing them so much trouble, I took my leave. 

           My students carried Lao-lao’s carrier and things downstairs.  Lao-lao enthusiastically pulled on his leash to get going.  He knew exactly where we were heading off to:  Home and big sister, Little Flower!

            Now we are all settled back into our comfortable, happy places:  Lao-lao sighing contentedly as he sleeps in his bassinet, Little Flower flopped on my bed in the air-conditiong and me, typing away on the computer.

What Will Become of Little Old? 

            All of my efforts to find a home for Little Old over the past 5 months have failed.  I’ve done posted Net videos in Chinese and English.  I’ve had a reporter actually write an article about him.  I’ve tried him out at 2 homes.  I’ve asked numerous neighbors and folks I trust.  The answer has always been, "He’s cute, but we just have no time for a dog."        

           As for myself, it’s very difficult for me to take two dogs to my new placement, which is a semi-remote area and one which would probably not be too pleased for a foreigner to have 2 dogs.  Rabies is quite common in China with over 2,000 rabies deaths per year because of dog bites.  My dogs have their vaccinations but not everyone understands that in China.  For a foreign teacher at a new school, where people don’t know me or what kind of a person I am, to show up with not one but two dogs is not only disrespectful but somewhat rude.  The officials know about Little Flower coming but yet another pet?!  

          Not a very good start at a new placement for a veteran Amity teacher such as myself.          

         And I can’t forget to mention Little Flower. She is still very jealous and upset that there is a second animal in the house.  Sharing Mom’s affection is not at all to her liking.

It’s Plan B:  Off to America!

            For several months, I’ve instigated a Plan B and prepared for that, which is bring Lao-lao back to the States where he will be placed with a loving family.

             My hometown vet, Ericka Yeley, sent a very encouraging email saying that she was 100% certain this little dog would find a great home.  Her connections with area animal shelter and foster care programs, plus the U of I vet school where she graduated, make her an angel for dogs like Lao-lao.

            So this Sunday afternoon, after the movers have loaded up my things onto the truck, dogs and I will be leaving for Chengdu.  There, Lao-lao will begin his official documentation procedures for customs and in-country  flights.  Little Flower will be enjoying herself in the hotel room and getting ready for her summer visit to Mrs. He (huh), her babysitter.

            And I?  I’ll be gearing up for quite an adventure accompanying our little earthquake zone Chihuahua to my home country, the USA.

            Stay tuned for updates on our travels, beginning next Friday with a flight to Shanghai for overseas’ health checks and procedures.

            Until next time, Ping An (Peace), everyone!

             Over the past 5 months, our semi-toothless Chihuahua little brother, Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) has had his home here with me and big sister, Little Flower.

            During that time, he has transformed from a dirty, malnourished, frightened stray to the perfect little house dog.  He loves to be petted.  He loves to run and go for walks.  He loves to crunch down bones (using what little back teeth he has.)

            His stained, coarse coat has turned to soft white.  His hairless tail and ears have now filled in beautifully.  His few, green-coated teeth (a nasty color due to poor eating habits) are now clean and shiny.

            Our first venture for a home was a bust due to the small child that lived there.  A hyperactive, exuberant 4-year-old is just not the best company for a small, quiet, gentle 5-pound dog.

            It was back to the drawing board.

            Over the weeks of walking the campus, Lao-lao has drawn many admirers and sympathetic neighbors but everyone hedged when it came to taking in a dog.  That’s a lot of responsibility but I kept asking. 

            During the lunchtime hours, I often take Little Flower and Lao-lao to one of the administration offices where my mail is kept.  Since no one is around, having the dogs in the building is not a problem.

            On a recent visit to the office, I found Mr. Xiong (shee-ohng) busy at his computer.   He is one of the administrators in charge of school affairs.  His biggest job is to write all the official documents and reports for the school to submit to higher government authorities. 

            His Chinese writing skills are excellent, according to many, mostly due to the fact his vocation is that of a Chinese teacher. Like a majority of those at the lower administration level, he also teaches 6 hours a week to the Chinese teaching majors at our college.  

            In other words, he’s a very busy guy.

           When we stopped by the office, Mr. Xiong was very excited to see the two dogs and wanted to pet one of them.  Lao-lao is the friendlier of the two so I placed him in his arms.

            It seemed a perfect match. 

            Mr. Xiong petted him gently, a big smile on his face as he gazed down at his little lap dog.

            “I’m looking for a home for him,” I said hopefully.  “Would you like to adopt him?  You can ask your family.”

            Mr. Xiong brightened immediately. 

            He said his wife and son both love dogs.

            Uh-oh. 

            My “Terrorizing Chinese Kid”  light went off.

            “How old is your son?” I asked.

            “13,” he replied.

            Ah!  Good age for a dog like Lao-lao.

            So after discussing the when and where for a trial period, we settled on this week for a dog visit. 

            In my great concern for Lao-lao’s happiness, I wrote out a long list of instructions about our little Chi:  his toilet outings, his eating habits, his shy nature, his likes and dislikes.  These I had translated so the family could turn to them if there was a problem.

            Then yesterday evening, I accompanied Mr. Xiong to his home to settle Lao-lao into a new place.   One of my students, Wing, came along with me for fun.  She wanted to say goodbye to Lao-lao before she leaves for her summer vacation on Thursday.

             No one was home at the time so I didn’t get to meet the rest of the family, which was somewhat of a concern, but I just had hope that all would go well.

            After 3 days, Mr. Xiong will give the verdict about keeping Lao-lao or not.

            If the answer is “yes”, our little brother will come back to me for a few days to say goodbye before returning him to Mr. Xiong’s family for a permanent home.

            If the answer is “no”, then it’s back to searching again.

            Keep your fingers crossed!

            From Luzhou, Ping An (peace) sent you way for the day.

            Although our students are this weekend getting ready for their final exams next week, Friday for me signaled my last class with my Luzhou students.

            August will find me in Guangxi Province, settling into my new Amity  teaching position at Guangxi Normal University for Nationalities in the small town of Longzhou (long joe). 

             Luzhou Vocational College is too prosperous and developed for Amity teachers.  They are now on their own to find foreign language teachers and I’m off to a new location.

            Although Amity wanted to close this teaching position last year, my sending agency (the United Methodist GBGM) and I requested another year here to complete a few projects that were yet unfinished.  Amity agreed under the condition that this would be the last extension in Luzhou and we concurred.

           
Last Lesson

            Of all the teaching days of the year, my favorites are always that last week of  school before summer holidays begin. 

            My conversation finals are finished.  The relaxing 2-month vacation is just within arms reach. The classroom erupts in laughter and excitement as students file in for their final lesson with their foreign teacher before it’s time to take off. 

            As an educator, I love planning a rewarding closure to a school year.  It’s such a pleasure to instigate a fun, upbeat, hopeful atmosphere where we all join together in relief and pride in our accomplishments.

            Every semester closure class is a bit different, but this year I think was a model I’ll be following for many years to come.

Spring Semester Resolutions

            After singing a warm-up song of some sort, we begin  with our spring semester resolutions.  These were written 5 months ago, when the dark, dreary, winter cold was upon us and the freshness of spring seemed far, far away.   In class, students were asked to write 5 different resolutions:  for myself, for my school life, for my family, for another person and for the world.  After writing these secret promises, they signed their pledges to keep them, sealed their papers in an envelope and handed to me. 

            All during the semester, my labeled stacks of 360 resolutions envelopes have been sitting on my lesson plan bookshelf, waiting to be opened.

            And last week in the classroom, each student had their resolutions returned to open, share with their classmates and determine if they kept these or not.

            Those wishing to share a resolution or two with the entire class are always welcome.  We had a lot of good giggles for those who announced such things for fun.

            “For myself, I resolve to get up at 6:30 every day and study before class.”

            “I resolve to eat less.”

            “I resolve to save my money and not spend it on selfish things.”

            Kept or not?

            Not! 

            More meaningful resolutions included those for family: study hard to make parents proud, get a part-time job to relieve financial burdens, remind loved ones how much they are loved and appreciated.

            Very simple for most of us but coming from those who are from poor, countryside areas, whose parents are working hard to put them through school, these small promises mean a lot.

Thank Yous to Scholarship Applicants

           What end-of-the-year class would be complete without the thank yous? 

            First, we had our Amity English Education Scholarship applicants who worked extremely hard to complete their 10-page forms.  We had over 100 apply and only 20 chosen.

             I felt it was important that all those who tried receive their scholarship write-ups back with some sort of evaluation for their English ability.  After reading through them all, giving scores and comments, and placing reward stickers to their English essays, it was time to thank them for their time and effort. 

            In every class, the applicants were announced, handed back their scholarship forms and given a round of applause.  Those whose English language essays and service plans were especially outstanding received English language newspapers.

Thank Yous to Class Monitors

            The monitor (class leader) was next on the list. 

            All Chinese classes have a class leader, either chosen by the students or appointed by the teacher. 

            The monitor is in charge of all class activities, including assembling students for meetings, making announcements, being the laison between faculty and his/her classmates, and organizing participatory events. 

            It’s a very big job and a thankless one.  The monitor is constantly running here and there, doing the bidding of teachers and students alike.  The experienced ones handle it all with competency and a tough skin.   The novice ones often erupt into tears when classmates snarl over being told what to do by one of their own or teachers criticize them for not having done a good enough job.

            The monitor for the foreign language teacher is especially under a lot of pressure.  Having to listen carefully to every word he or she says in class, taking notes on important announcements and relaying messages in English from classmates takes a lot of energy.  It’s a bigger pressure than working with the Chinese teacher in their native tongue.           

            That’s why I always appreciate and recognize my monitors at the end of the year.

            Monitors this year were given bookmarks or signature booklets with my thank-yous and a miniature sticker picture of myself and Little Flower.  All monitors were given choices on which gift they’d like, which made it a bit more fun for them.

English Newspaper Give-away

            Everyone should have the opportunity to win a prize for our last lesson together so we always have a drawing of some sort for items of interest.

            This year, I chose 3 of our English language newspapers published here in China.   

            The first two choices were the 21^st Century.  This newspaper is published specifically for students in China who are learning English.  There are 2 editions, one for teens (junior high and high school level) and one for university.

            Both editions contain current trends in the young people’s world, both in China and overseas’,  interviews with popular stars, hot issues around the globe, advice on love and studies, vocabulary building,  cartoons and so on.

            Aside from student reading newspapers, China also has English language papers published for the native speaker.  In Luzhou, I recently found  The Global Times being sold at a nearby stand.  This is a daily paper with editions both in Chinese and English.  It caters more toward the issues that affect China today although world issues are also included. 

            I enjoy the Global Times more than Beijing’s China Daily because the articles are more in-depth and tackle difficult subjects, such as child trafficking to the south, drug abuse in Yunnan, earthquake unrest among parents, and  disgruntled farmers who have lost their lands to development. 

            Just a few years ago, such articles would have been held from the public but as China becomes more open, these critical reports of the country are taking over the front pages more and more.

            We had 8 different newspapers to give away with 8 winners for our drawing. 

            Everyone excitedly waited to see whose name would be drawn next for their newspaper prize.  When the last one went, a huge cheer went up for the final recipient.

Grades

            In China, tests are never returned to students but are kept locked in a cabinet for at least 2 years. If  students contest their scores or suggest the school cheated them, the department can then prove to them how well they did (or didn’t do) by showing them the actual test which is on file.

            In our office, we have thousands of smelly, moldy  tests stuffed into cabinets just in case someone has a complaint.

            But the foreign teacher is exempt from such practices.  I can give my tests, grade them, record the marks and then hand back the exam papers directly to the students so they can see their personal evaluations.

            Conversation tests are extremely important for students to know in what area they need to improve on, whether it’s grammar, pronunciation, expression of thought or comprehension.

            Since the grades are the highlight, they go out last.  If there are any questions that need answering or clarifications on marks, I’m right there to do so.

Name Cards:  “Keep in Touch!”

            Students grow very attached to their foreign language teachers and vice versa.  We’ve spent an entire year together, both in the classroom and out.   There’s a lot of community and special relationships formed so one of the last things we do is make sure we can keep in touch with one another.

            Name cards this year contained my email address and my website.

             One of the blessings of computers is that everyone in China has access to them.  No matter where any of us  might be in the future, we can always stay in touch.  Emailing or checking out my website brings us all closer together, even though we won’t be seeing each other in person anymore.

            It’s a sad thought but at the same time, we have many great memories to carry with us for as long as we live. 

            That’s the most important thing.

            From Luzhou, here’s wishing you Ping An (Peace) for your weekend as I wind down my last week in my Yangtze river home, Luzhou.

            Our weather in Sichuan, China was proving quite pleasant for travel.  The dusty bus ride needed to reach Ji Ke’s small village wouldn’t be quite as unbearably hot as in mid-summer.  

            But more than beating the heat, it was a little over a year after the devastating May 12^th earthquake. I was eager to see the current situation in his region, just outside of hard-hit Dujiangyan.

            From Chengdu’s Jin Sha (Golden Sand) bus station, it was only an hour’s trip to Tong Le Cun, Happy Together Village.

              The new four-lane highway made it a straight shot over the plateau.  Looking out the bus window, I could barely make out the distant mountain ranges through the ever-present subtropical haze.  It was hard to imagine a year ago, these now sleepy slopes filled China’s newspapers with tragic tales of mudslides, smashing boulders and crushed buildings.   

            All along the route, passengers shouted to the driver to stop for disembarking.  I was one of them, being dropped off at a seemingly middle-of-nowhere destination. 

            The highway bypasses small towns and villages such as Ji Ke’s.  My student’s village was a 20-minute walk down gravel and dirt roads from my drop-off point. 

            As always, he was waiting there to lead me on the way.

            “Jason!” I called out, using his English name. “So good to see you again.”

            It had been a year since we last saw one another, although we’ve been in contact via email over the year.  We had a lot of catching up to do on our way, including a stop at the horse ranch nearby his home.

            In China, many are trying their hands at creating more touristy environments for those from the city.  So many now have private cars that they want places to drive to.         The horse ranch popped up last year and now the owners are hoping to do a tourist business with urban folk looking for relaxation and fun.  Riding horses, being a novelty in China, was considered a good venture.

            However, according to Jason, not many are coming.  Also, the horses themselves looked underfed and not in great condition.  One does wonder if the ranch will go bust in another year or so.

Jason’s Village Home

            As Jason and I walked the dirt pathways between his village’s wooden and sod houses, he pointed out remnants of last year’s disaster.  His village suffered little damage from the quake but there were small reminders.  A cracked wall here.  A broken grave altar there.  A door permanently stuck ajar.

            Upon reaching Jason’s home, I was greeted by his parents and older sister in their traditional Chinese courtyard.  They had been busy all morning preparing numerous stir-fried dishes for our lunch together.  

            Although Ji Ke’s family and I suffered little from the earthquake, like the survivors, we were celebrating a renewal of life. 

            A year ago, Ji Ke’s sister was dying. 

            The operation needed to repair her congenital  heart defect had been too expensive for his farming family to afford.   If she had been injured in the earthquake, she would have received free medical care. But in an unusual twist of fate, not being in the destroyed areas made her the unlucky one.    

            But with a little help from me, they were able to cover the operation costs. 

           When the hospitals in Sichuan’s capital city, Chengdu, began emptying of those recovering from their disaster injuries, Jason’s sister was able to have her heart procedure.

            Sitting across the table from her, I noticed her healthy glow and high spirits, so different from last year.   She blushed as her brother teased her about her fiancé.  He is a day laborer, taking what odd jobs he can to add extra income to the Ji household.  On this day,  he couldn’t join us.  He was working in nearby hard-hit Dujiangyan where his skills as a construction worker had him rebuilding the many destroyed buildings from the earthquake. 

Visiting Jiezi Tourist Town

            After lunch, it was time for touring.

            Jason’s father couldn’t join us as he was working that afternoon.  He sometimes was employed in a feather-cleaning factory in the next town over. The feathers were used for bedding in China. 

             It wasn’t a regular job but it did help bring in some money for living on.

             It was Jason’s plan that we do something different from my last 2 visits and that was to travel 10 minutes up the road to a small tourist town called Jiezi (meaning street in English).

            Street was a town which blossomed forth as an attraction for it’s old-style store fronts, narrow alleyways, special snack foods and home-made crafts.  The earthquake pretty much shut it down for months.  It was located at the foot of a mountain. Falling rocks and mudslides threatened those below, plus many of the buildings had been damaged during the shaking.

            But a year later, the place was once again packed with those from Chengdu and surrounding cities who owned private cars and were looking for a fun day-trip to the countryside where food was a highlight as well as beautiful, lush green scenery.

            Jiezi  was definitely the place to go.

            We first needed to return back along the dirt roads to the main highway to wait for a passing van. Jason, his mom, sister and I made our way along their neighbors’ vegetable and rice fields.  We stopped at a nearby home to pick up his sister’s best friend.  The two young women linked arms, their heads close together as they giggled and whispered over girly matters. 

            Jason’s mother, concerned about the hot sun, pulled up several plant stalks topped with giant leaves.  She handed one to each of us.  We then perched them on our heads, shielding our faces from the burning rays.

            Some residents in the area buy nicely upholstered family vans which they use as businesses for driving people to and from towns along the highway route.  It’s  more convenient than waiting for busses and gives means for the not-so-rich to pay for a private vehicle.

            Jason hailed down one such van and we climbed inside.  The newness was quite apparent by the fresh off-the-assembly car smell inside, as well as the plastic coverings on the seats.  I was appalled that Jason’s mother paid for this, 5 yuan a head making the cost 30 yuan ($5) for all 5 of us.  That was more money than his father made in a day’s work at the feather cleaning plant.

The Touristy Town of Jiezi (Street)

            It was great fun being led by Jason through the small streets of this touristy town.  The place was packed full of people, many from the city looking for a place to drive to for the day.  All along the narrow ways, we were greeted by food sellers hauling around spicy red-peppered snacks such as fried tofu squares or sweet sticky-rice sesame candies.  The storefronts were all newly built but in the style of old China, giving the place a nostalgic feel.  Everyone was cruising over handmade craft or specialty items from the area. 

            One of the biggest hits were medicinal pillows.  They are filled with special herbs that are supposed to relieve headaches.  All sizes were available, from 5 yuan (75 cents) up to 15 or 30 ($1.50 – $3.00).  I ended up with 4 to take back with me to Chengdu, one each for Jalin’s parents and her dad’s older brother who was recently in the hospital.  The fourth I kept for myself. 

            Never know when a medicinal pillow for headaches will come in handy!

            We wove our way along all the cobbled streets all the way to the end, which placed us at the foot of the mountains, in the countryside.  Lots of hotels and parking lots for those driving were found dotting the slopes. 

            According to Jason, when the earthquake hit last year, many of these hotels had to close up for a year to do repairs.   In fact, the entire town pretty much came to a stand-still for most of the year before it got back on its feet again. 

            Walking along, meeting crowds of people enjoying themselves on this May holiday afternoon, I think those living here would pretty much agree they were back in business again.

            Jason also pointed out small hostels where for 50 yuan a night ($7.25) you could stay directly along the street and enjoy the evening life of a touristy town in “old” China.  And for 1,000 yuan a month ($150), he said some retired folk from the hectic capital city stayed in such hostels for the summer.  They enjoyed the cool, crisp mountain air, hung out with their friends sipping tea or playing mahjong in the many parlors dotting the walkways and even had meals provided for them.  

            Now that’s the way to spend a summer.

In Closing

            It’s been a whole month since enjoying that day with Jason and his family but it’s a memory I’ll never forget.  Jason has already invited me for another visit soon, most likely before I return to the States for a summer visit to my hometown, after he returns from Qinghai University.  

            We’re heading into the surrounding mountains this time around for a trek up the pathways, past temples and small pavilions. 
            Just one more thing to look forward to before leaving Sichuan in August for my new placement down south.

            But more on that in the next blog.

            As always, from along the Yangtze, Ping An (Peace), everyone!

            Just a short blog for all of you music fans out there:

            For those from the U.S., you are probably quite familiar with NPR, National Public Radio.

            The staff of NPR was here in Sichuan last year to do pieces on the province when the earthquake struck.  In fact, they were actually interviewing the Chengdu Theological Seminary president at the time in his office on the 4^th floor of the seminary.  I still remember reports of them running into the street in front of the church, the same one I attended last year as a language student at Sichuan University.

            A year later, two staff members returned to report on the anniversary of the quake.  The articles, transcripts and on-line listening of these reports are quite poignant but one in particular crossed my mind as being worthy of sharing.

            An American folk musician, Abigail Washburn, and electronic artist Dave Liang are working together to create an earthquake song album using tool sounds of the rebuilding mixed with various songs sung by survivors.  They spent 2 weeks going around the areas, taping voices, sounds and music, which they are currently putting together to create a special album.

            Abigail has a strong tie to Sichuan as she studied Chinese here years ago, and I must say her Chinese is very good as I heard it on the broadcast.

            But what is truly stunning and amazing are the songs they have put together.  They are moving and very touching, all sung by survivors.  Many are made up by the singers themselves.  Our artists have merely added their expertise in creating truly unique, beautiful, fun, upbeat and quite remarkable music.

            I personally want to get my hands on this album as soon as it goes on sale.  Proceeds will go toward earthquake relief.

            If you’re interested in reading the article and listening to the report, which includes snippets of the album and info about how to get it, go to:  

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=103906236

            You are really in for a treat!

            Ping An (Peace) from Luzhou

            Naturally, I am eager to report on my May 1^st adventures with Jason Ji and his family but such stories have been put on hold due to our scholarship venture.

            This is quite an unusual case of scholarship creation here at our college by an Amity teacher, which would be me.  It’s a one-time venture and has to do with my position as a United Methodist GBGM employee.

How Amity Teachers Are Paid

            Amity teachers are rarely full-time employees of a church agency.  They are considered as volunteers who give their time for  2 years (or longer) working as English language teachers in China through sponsorship of the Amity Foundation. 

            Sending agencies (that is, the teacher’s overseas denomination) put in about $6,000 per year for each teacher they send.  This $6,000 covers Amity conference and office costs for the teacher and also a supplementary salary of $3,000 per year ($300 per month) for every teacher.  This money is in US dollars and is placed into the teacher’s US dollar banking account here in China for personal use.

            In addition to the US dollars, an Amity teacher also receives a salary from the school.  Because Amity is a partnership organization, the school is required to partner in the payment of their teachers by giving a foreign teachers’ basic salary amount as suggested by the Chinese government.  This amount is 3,000 yuan ($447) per month.

            So all together, an Amity teacher receives $300 US per month plus 3,000 yuan ($447) per month to cover all their personal costs.

              Non-teaching months pay no salary.

How Connie Is Paid

            In my case, however, as a full-time employee of the United Methodist GBGM, my entire salary comes from the Methodists.   I should not receive any supplementary salary of any kind from another sourc, including Amity and my college.

            But under Amity contract, a college must pay for their Amity teacher.  If one school doesn’t pay for a teacher, the other schools will then start to question this matter and not understand the complexities of the situation:  “What do you mean that teacher is different?  How can that be?  Why do we have to pay our teacher but the other school doesn’t?  That’s not fair!”

            Obviously, hard feelings and misunderstandings will result.

            So after a lot of discussion from both myself, Amity and the United Methodist office, we decided that this last year, the salary the school pays me will be sent directly to Amity.  Amity will hold onto the money and we will decide what to do with it to best benefit everyone at the end of the year.

The Amity and United Methodist GBGM Scholarship Is Created

            This is where the Amity Foundation and United Methodist GBGM Scholarship came into being.

            On my suggestion,  we would create a number of scholarships to be given to the poorest students in the English Language Department who were majoring in English Education.

            During the past 3 months, the school’s English language office heads, Amity Foundation Educational Director Liu Ruhong, those in the Methodist Board office and I have been working on the scholarship proposal plan and application form. 

            It was decided, using my school 2008-2009 salary (38,000 yuan, or $5,670), we would offer 20 scholarships at 1,900 yuan each ($283), only open to this year’s 1^st and 2^nd year students in the English language department. 

            The cost per year for our college itself is:  4,000 yuan ($597) tuition, 800 – 1,200 ($120 – $179) housing, 800 – 1,000 ($120 – $150) food,  600 ($90) books for a total of $927 on the low end. 

            The scramble to pay this amount is a great burden on those from the countryside whose farming income rarely goes beyond 400 yuan ($59) a month, if even that.    Although $283 for a scholarship doesn’t sound like much to Americans, it could make the difference between someone staying in school here and having to drop out.

            The most needy students were our target winners and those are the ones we’ll be selecting from.

The Scholarship Itself:  What It Entails

            These scholarships were not at all easy to complete.  The 10-page form which we created included:  documented proof of financial difficulty, summary of family situation, 1 Chinese essay about need and desire to be a teacher, 1 English essay on a proud moment, a lesson learned or a conquered difficulty, and last of all was an English language service project plan write-up (in English and Chinese) which would be carried out by the student if he/she won.

            We added the service project because Amity felt students should earn the scholarship money, not just be handed the money and do nothing in return for the school or community.

            To focus and organize the service  more, the scholarship offered 5 project plans for the students to choose from:  1)  teach 3 English classes at our nearby migrant school   2)  create 2 issues of an English language campus newspaper   3) create 6 English language announcement boards on campus  4) devise and carry out a research survey and write-up about language study for non-English majors   5)  lead 5 one-on-one tutoring sessions for non-English majors on our campus.

            Each project required the student to lead a team of 5 other classmates to complete the service during the year.

            And each project required a full write-up and plan how it would be implemented.  This was a major part of the scholarship application and was one which would eventually decide our winners from among the financial poorest selected.

The Process of Selection:  Long and Arduous

            Out of 370 English major students, we had 104 scholarship applications turned in on Friday, May 15.

            Two days later on Sunday afternoon, the head teachers for all 8 first and second year classes and I sat down to select the top 30 for our interviews.

            Why the head teachers and not the dean or other administrative staff?

            The 4 head teachers are in charge of students’ needs and are somewhat like dorm mothers as well as advisors.  They hold weekly meetings to talk about new study requirements.  They help with study or emotional problems students might have.  They approve leaves for sickness, illnesses or deaths in the family or other personal matters.  They write letters of recommendation if needed. 

            The head teachers know the true financial situation of students and can see through those who either make up stories about how poor they are or make their family finances seem more dire than they are.

            From the 104, we had 4 piles: not that poor, poor, poorer and poorest. 

            We started with the poorest (36), read over their materials to determine if they had completed their forms well or not, then planned to select 30 for the interview stage.

            But in the final minutes of our completed work, we all had a change of heart.  We decided even if their applications weren’t that great, we should give all the poorest  a chance to have the interview.

            So instead of the 30 we had originally agreed upon, we went ahead and added the 6 whose applications were just so-so as we felt that was fair.

            Thus we had a total of 36 to interview, which was the next stage of our selection process.

The Interviews:  How Conducted

            All week, four of us have been conducting 15 minute interviews with the selected 36. 

            Dean Hou (Horace), Vice Dean Li (Marty), English office party secretary Mr. Hu and I settled ourselves in the English office and began talking to students one by one as they came for their appointed times.

            The Chinese men did the Chinese part of the  interview and I did the English.

            Mr. Hu always began by asking them to talk more about their family situation and questioning their income plus spending habits at school.

            Dean Horace was next with usually a few questions about difficulties they had in their studies or about their current classwork.

            Marty followed by analyzing their service project plans and asking them to explain more about how they expected to carry these out.

            My part of the interview was to have them re-tell parts of their English essay and explain more about it, and then to just ask a few questions about their service plan.

             The purpose of the English part of the interview was just to make sure they could communicate well enough to be a teacher in the classroom.  I know that sounds silly, as one would think as English majors they should be able to answer simple questions and express some thoughts in the language, but that’s not always the case. 

            We have quite a few students who can’t speak a stitch of English nor understand it, even though this is their major.  Their test grades are so low that one does wonder if they can even pass examination, not just our college tests but the national tests that are required for them to be English teachers.  I know of many who take these national exams several times yet still can’t get the average score needed to qualify them in English as teachers.

            In our 36, I’m happy to say 33 could communicate somewhat in the language but we did have 3 who couldn’t.  One was completely hopeless, which was sad as her family was extremely poor.

            When it comes down to choosing the top 20 on Monday, we’ve decided to go with the poorest whom we know will succeed in becoming English teachers in the future. 

Final Thoughts:  Putting a Human Face on China’s Poor

            Before it began, I personally thought this would be a fairly straightforward scholarship selection process.  It was just a matter of choosing the best from the poorest, right?

            But reading over everyone’s applications, their personal essays, and their service plans, plus actually talking to them face-to-face about these things, truly enlightened me to the plight of the poor in China.

            All our interviewees were young women, 19 – 22.  They told of  parents’ deaths, tragic family illnesses, floods and earthquakes, sex discrimination (male relatives who insisted not wasting money on their education), financial difficulties, and private worries.

           They shared a great deal, pouring themselves out through their writings and speech in a way which foreigners rarely have an opportunity to experience.  

            Some cried during their family stories, leading me to bring a tissue box with me to every interview session.

            Language teachers such as myself so often hear, “My family is very poor,” but it usually doesn’t go any further than that.  We can only guess what “poor” means compared to our own cultural standards.

            Now, through my students, I have a human face to place on that word.  All 104 applicants were willing to bare all for a $283 scholarship which would allow them to continue with their education.

            At present, we have our 36 who this weekend are going about their school life, their nerves less frazzled now that the interviews are over.  I imagine they are worrying, wondering and hoping that they will be the ones chosen to receive the money we have to offer.   

            And here we can only choose 20.

            Oh, yes.  Such a fairly straightforward scholarship selection process.  Just choose the best from the poorest, right?

            Come Monday afternoon, when our committee sits down to truly decide our winners, I think I will find this more different than I had ever imagined.

             Please think of our committee as we meet to make our decisions.  Your thoughts and good wishes will be greatly appreciated.    

            From Luzhou, here’s wishing you a Ping An (peace) for your weekend.