connie's space

            Tomorrow marks the one year remembrance of the Wenchuan Earthquake in Sichuan Province,  China.

            According to a recent news conference, China now says 5,335 students died or remain missing with 68,712 as the overall death toll and 18,000 not accounted for. Thousands are still displaced in shelter complexes as their towns and villages are being rebuilt in other areas of the province. 

            In remembrance of this day one year ago, all scenic tourist places in Sichuan are free to the public.   No entrance fees will be charged.

             But aside from that, the government here in Sicuan is keeping everything low-key.  There is still a great deal of anger from parents whose children died in what they describe as shabbily built schools.  They claim the collapse of the buildings is a result of corrupt officials who pocketed the extra cash and skimped on better, safer building materials and designs when the schools were first built.

            Whether true or not, the feelings run deep, even among my students.

            On the sports’ field today, as the Chihuahuas Little Flower and Little Old flopped on the grass in the heat, some of my 1^st year students joined us.

             The noontime is a chance for them to usual take a nap but on this day, we had a ping-pong tournament going on.  Classmates came out to cheer on their friends.  In between the rounds, they sat with me and practiced their English.

            Luzhou is far from the earthquake zone but many of our students come from hard-hit areas.  One young man, who never talks in class nor says a word, suddenly sat down with our small group. 

            “I am from the . . . . dizhen difang (earthquake place),” he finished in Chinese, not knowing the English. 

            “Yes!” his classmate John (Ma Zhilin) piped up, excited to use his English vocabulary. “Very severe,” he added, gravely.

            He sat quietly, this young man called Cheng Tao, because as a 1^st year student, last year he was in the earthquake itself.  I’m sure there are many terrible memories of that day.  Luckily, his parents’ home and his high school were saved from destruction but his town’s primary school collapsed. 

            “Many, many children dead,” he told me.  “Parents not happy, still.  They . . . are sad.”

            His buddy, John, nodded his head.

            There was a silence that fell upon us as no one knew what to say.

            “I know it was very terrible,” I said.  “I’m so happy your family is O.K. and you are in my class.  We can help you feel better, right?”

            Cheng Tao smiled.

            “And what about the summer?”  I went on, thinking to change the subject to something brighter.  “What will you do?  Will you go home?”

            At this question, John beamed.

            “We,” he pointed to Cheng Tao and himself, “are going to his hometown.  We have an English summer school for primary students.  They have no school building.  They never study English.  Your songs in class are very good!  We will teach them your way.  Use the . . . . body language.”

            What a great idea! 

            Currently in the earthquake areas, there are no schools so students are merely meeting in large rooms built in their shelter homes.  There is no air-conditioning or heating so currently, it’s a stifling place to hold classes, especially when there are 60-70 children in a room.  Yet this is what students have been enduring during the school year. 

            This summer, they will have nothing to do as their make-shift little towns are usually located in the middle of nowhere.  No stores, shops, community centers or anything much to do aside from sit around or play outside with no toys or sports’ equipment.  The idea of having a summer school for the kids was a brilliant idea.

            “And pay no money,” Cheng Tao said with conviction.  “We help.”

            “I think that’s wonderful, you two.  You can do maybe 2 weeks.”
            “No!” John said with fervor  “We do for 1 month.  Teach the simple English, like you teach us. Give the children a chance to have fun.  They have nothing to do all day.  It’s not good.”

            John then burst into my rendition of “10 Little Indians,” which is “Ten Little Chinese.”  He was joined by others in the group, even quiet Cheng Tao who rarely joined us in classroom singing.

            After leaving the group, I, too, remembered our quake from a year ago.  In my Chengdu apartment, the shaking had begun lightly but suddenly escalated into a more violent swaying.  I had been messing about in the kitchen, getting my abandoned kitty’s powdered milk ready, while Little Flower was outside waiting for me to exit for our daily walk.

            Of course, I eventually ran outside but it took a good 10 seconds for me to really be frightened.  And even then, what we experienced in Chengdu was nothing compared to those north of us.  Our buildings shook and swayed.  A few flower pots came crashing down from window sills.  Some walls cracked.  But no one died or suffered severe injuries. 

            We were the lucky ones.

            Now we have opportunities, such as my students, to help in small ways.  Having an English language school to keep the children busy during the summer is quite a sacrifice for young college kids who are poor.  Many try to find part-time jobs to help their parents pay for their schooling.  Others just wish to enjoy time with their families whom they sorely miss, especially as 1^st year students who have never been away from home before. 

            The summer holidays for those finishing their 1^st year at college is very important and very precious.  To think that John, who lives far from his classmate,  is willing to join Cheng Tao for an entire month to help out is quite moving.

            I have no doubt the two of them will not only have a rewarding experience as novice teachers but also as those who care enough about others to give their time and energy in such a much-needed way.

            Bravo to you two, John and Cheng Tao!  I am so proud to have been your foreign teacher for a year.   May others follow in your footsteps.

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

            This past May holiday was mostly devoted to visiting with Jason (Ji Ke), my former student of 2 years ago.

            Jason attended the branch school of Qing Hai University here at our small college for 2 years and then completed his last 2 years at Qing Hai University itself in Qing Hai Province. 

            Many students, when doing their student teaching stints, arrange on their own to return to their hometown areas.  This is perfectly acceptable by the college in order for them to complete their teaching credential requirements, although many times college staff supervision of their teaching is not done.  Due to long distances, our English language faculty can’t travel to their areas so the students are supervised by their mentor teachers they work under.

            Sometimes, the mentor teachers are great and really go out of their way to teach their student teachers how to be good instructors.  Other times, students are left on their own to sit in the office and do nothing most of the day, with just a few hours a week to teach.  And there are cases where students who have never wanted to teach manage to get to their hometown areas and wind up hanging out with family all day.  They have connections with someone at the school who just signs the necessary forms and sends them in, even though the student was never present nor did anything at all.

            In Jason’s case, he was very fortunate in his arrangements, not only of his mentor teacher but the school where he taught. 

            Originally, Jason planned to student teach in Dujiangyan, one of the hard-hit earthquake cities.  It was only 1 hour from his home and would place him close to family.

            But then a relative had an “in” at a very prestigious  high school near Chengdu.  According to Jason, this was one of the top schools in the province with very rich students, many of whom ended up going abroad to finish high school or be matriculated into an overseas’ university. 

            The cost of this school was close to $6,000 a year if boarding.  Knowing faculty or someone in the school was often needed for acceptance.  These close relationships (or connections) in China are called guangxi. 

            Jason’s guangxi was his relative who pulled strings to get him in as a student teacher.  It was his relative’s hope that after student teaching, Jason could perhaps be hired on full-time at this famous, well-equipped institution rather than a countryside school.  Unfortunately, such a hiring was a bit more than just applying.  It required not only very strong guangxi among school administrators but necessary gift-giving as well.

            I think you can guess what kind of gifts go the longest way in China. Those in the form of green paper (and a lot of it), which Jason certainly doesn’t have.

            And Jason, being the kind of person he is, didn’t think this way of getting a job as being a fair or honest one.  Even if it had great conditions, was in a good location, and paid fairly well, the act of cheating, by receiving a position not due to merit or skill but connections,  didn’t really appeal to him. 

            Thus he just stuck to his student teaching, which he finished 2 weeks ago, and left.

            Jason had made arrangements with the school for me to take over one period of his classes.  Mr. Wang, his supervising teacher, wasn’t present as he had applied for leave that morning with an urgent matter to attend to.  Knowing that I would be in the classroom, he probably felt safe in doing so.

            Thus last Thursday morning, Jason and I both co-taught his high school juniors, about 60 in the room.  They were a bit wound up as the class was from 11:30 to 12:10, right before lunch and also before May Day holiday dismissal.  After 12:10, they were free until Monday when it was back to school as usual.

            Despite the fact I wasn’t their "real" teacher, and that Jason was the student teacher (with little powerful presence or authority), they behaved rather well.  We kept them busy answering English questions and giving English encouragement stickers away as prizes, which certainly went over big.  Such stickers are impossible to find in China so thanks again for all those who always send them to me.  They certainly came in handy entertaining a crowd of 60 teenagers, itching to be free of the classroom to begin their almost 4-day weekend.  

            Those prizes were a Godsend, let me tell you!

            After class, Jason and I toured the campus.  He showed me the building where he lived, a single room provided without pay by the school for him.  He was even given a meal card with $10 worth of food on it, enough to start him out for his first few days there.  That was a kind gesture, especially for Jason who is on a very tight budget. 

            As we say in English, every penny counts and in Jason’s case, that’s more true than for most. 

            Now that his student teaching is finished, Jason has fulfilled his requirements for a teaching certificate aside from fully graduating from Qing Hai University next month. 

            The May holiday signaled not only the end of his student teaching but his stay in Sichuan, where he’s been very close to his village and family for weekend stays.  He left for the long train trip across country on Sunday and is probably now settling back into his final weeks as a student before finals and graduation.

            As I mentioned, this May holiday was devoted to Jason.  That included a visit to his village once again to enjoy a day with his family, a visit with his sister and to enjoy the countryside air and scenery of the Sichuan plateau where he lives.

            Watch this space for the next installment of my May Day Holiday:  a day in Happy Together Village, where Jason’s family lives, and news from his area a year after the tragic earthquake hit.  

            As always, wishing you Ping An (Peace) for your day! 

            The May 1^st holiday is nearly upon us.  Schools will have 1 day off on Friday but for myself, I’ll be taking a longer break than usual.

            Ji Ke (Jason), my former student from 2 years ago, is doing his student teaching near Chengdu.  He is almost finished with his 2-month student teaching course and has invited me to visit his school and his students before the holiday begins.  I’ll therefore be leaving for Chengdu on Tuesday, visiting his school on Wednesday and enjoying my May 1^st holiday with his family in the countryside.

            Just as a reminder, Jason is the young man whose 24-year-old sister was in need of a heart procedure last year due to a congenital heart defect.  She was given a few years to live without the procedure and was rapidly becoming weaker and more frail every day.     Because Jason’s family was so poor, affording this operation was nearly impossible.  The cost was $5,000, which, as is customary in China, had to be paid up front or the patient wouldn’t be treated.  Jason’s parents, both farmers and part-time workers for factories, borrowed as much as they could but were still short.  I feel very blessed that I was able to make up the difference.

            Now, a year later, we have a bright, energetic, vibrant young woman on our hands who is full of life and happiness.

             I was excited to hear she currently has a boyfriend, and a very serious one at that. He has already left his own home in the far south (quite unusual for the only son to leave his parents) and moved in to live with the Li family. 

            According to Jason, his parents truly appreciate all he’s been doing for the family.  Not only does he care deeply for Jason’s sister, but he brings in extra money from his work as a floor-plan designer for buildings.  Because Jason’s family lives in the Sichuan earthquake zone, his talents are of particularly good use at this time.  Construction work on new houses has, and will be, going on for some time to give the homeless thousands a sturdy place to live.  Many are still in make-shift tents and shelters so the drive to rebuild is extremely important.

           The doctors have also informed Jason’s sister that in another year, she should be able to have children after her heart is completely healed.  In other words, there’ll definitely be a wedding in the works for 2010.

            I’m truly looking forward to visiting Jason’s school and his family this week.  Be assured I’ll have many stories to tell of visits to the countryside and also time spent with Jalin.  Little Flower, as always, will be traveling along in her carrier while Little Old stays here in my apartment to be cared for by her babysitters, my students Carol and Rita.

           So until later news,  I’ll leave you now with our usual Ping An (peace) and hope your May Day is a great one!

             For over a year, the college has been trying to get a foreign language teacher from Japan to work at our school to teach Japanese.

            Why  Japanese?

            In order for my English majors to graduate, they are required to have a second foreign language aside from English.  In order for a student to enter a 4-year university from our 3-year college, they also must have 2 foreign languages. 

              The school only offers Japanese as another foreign language aside from English, which every student (8,000) in the college is required to take.

              Students can, however, study German, Russian and French on their own from textbooks.  All they need to do is pass a listening and multiple-choice test in order to pass the language requirements so in-class lessons aren’t really necessary.  If you buy the study textbooks and work on your own, you can probably pass the test with a lot of luck.

            But with Japanese, the school has 2 Chinese teachers with Japanese majors who have been taking over extra-curricular classes taught on the weekends to those wishing to learn Japanese.  The enrollment of this class has been increasing so it was decided several years ago a native  speaker might be a good idea.

            Problems seemed to meet Catherine (Yin Ying), in the school’s foreign affairs office, from every angle.  Every time she tried to hire a Japanese teacher, something went wrong. 

            One person teaching Japanese in Shanghai was very interested in Luzhou but then looked the city up on the Internet.  He decided the city was too small and provincial for him.   He was also quite demanding in his requirements to teach here, including higher pay and better housing facilities than the college could offer. 

            Another person was willing to come but couldn’t get the necessary visa to do so.  And yet another Japanese backed out because he had a better offer elsewhere.

            So it was with great excitement that Catherine finally snagged Yoshi, a retired government office worker from Tokyo who was looking to teach in China somewhat as a volunteer.  He went through a Japanese organization that does service projects for those overseas and an opening was posted at our college.

            After over half-a-year of waiting due to visa difficulties, Yoshi (age 58) finally arrived on our campus a month ago to begin his 1 ½ year position.  He is the only native speaking Japanese teacher in the city, from what I understand.

            Of course, it’s been very nice to have someone new to Luzhou to show around.  I have been especially excited to have Yoshi as I lived in Japan for over a year, working at the Kyoto YWCA as their English language teacher. 

            Yoshi is also a Christian, which is not the norm as only 1 % of the population are Christians in Japan.  Yoshi comes from a long line of Catholics.  I had wanted to get him to the Catholic church here in Luzhou.  I know where it is and had even stopped by years ago to ask about services.  But Yoshi and I soon found out the Catholic church no longer has weekly services.  They only hold worship on Christmas Day and Easter Sunday.  Obviously, there just aren’t enough Catholic Chinese Christians in Luzhou to warrant more regular gatherings.

            Thus Yoshi has been coming with me to the Luzhou Protestant Church.

            Yoshi has been completely enthralled by the numbers who come every Sunday to church.  In Japan, there are so few at his services.  To see so many Christians of all ages gathered together here in China, which he originally thought was closed to religion, has greatly opened his eyes to the changes of this country.

            It’s been very enlightening to get to know Yoshi during the past month. I have found he is an unusual and unique Japanese, very different from other Tokyo-ites.

            He has traveled the entire world, going to places not in tour groups (as so many Japanese do) but independently on his own.

             Because Japanese government jobs give longer vacations, he was able to take off for weeks at a time to explore different countries.  He’s been to Canada, North and South America, all over Europe and South-east Asia, and had several enjoyable visits to China.  In fact, Yoshi speaks Spanish and Chinese very well, not to mention English.

            Originally, Yoshi considered going to South America to teach Japanese.  He said he wanted to go to a place that needed him.  But South America didn’t offer as many positions for Japanese teachers so he began looking at China. 

            And now, here he is.

            The truly wonderful thing about Yoshi is his sheer happiness in being in China.  Many who come to China complain about the culture, the habits of the people, and the food.  They find something negative to say about everything and wind up making themselves miserable as well as those around them.

            But Yoshi takes everything as it comes.

            When he was asked to take a second physical examination for his visa because his Japanese physical exam papers weren’t acceptable, he laughed it off.

            “That’s O.K.  I don’t mind!”

            I know other foreign visitors who have  refused to have an exam done in China.

             I once saw an irate American rattle her U.S. medical results in front of a Luzhou government official and snap, “These are from my country and they’re fine!  You will accept them and you’ll accept them now.  I won’t pay for another examination in a Chinese hospital.  You’re trying to get more money out of me.”

            The woman eventually did have to have the exam in Luzhou, at a cost of a mere $35.  In America, it had cost her over $350.

            If she had been smart, she’d have just done it here to begin with and not caused such a nasty scene in front of her Chinese colleagues and others who were trying to do their jobs.

            Yoshi has never been married.  His current family is composed of his younger brother, who has 2 children in their 20’s, and his father, now in his 90s who is being cared for by his brother. 

            “I am a bad son,” he once told me over coffee, shaking his head.  “I should take care of my father because I am the oldest.  Maybe after China, I will go back to help my brother with this burden.  Now, I want to do something different in my life.  I feel I should be here to help others.”

              Like I said, Yoshi is a very unusual and unique Japanese man but as a Christian, I think he’s right on the mark:  giving service, care and love to others.  That’s what being a Christian, and an all-round good person on this Earth, is all about.

            Enjoy pictures of our Easter celebrations in the Luzhou Protestant Church from April 12.  We really had a wonderful Easter.  Hope you did, too!

            As always, from Luzhou, here’s wishing you Ping An (peace) for your day.

             It was a fun 3 days last week of hanging out with rowdy, enthusiastic, cheering students for our Sports Days extravaganza.

            This was the 7^th year of celebrating athleticism among both students and faculty.            

            I attended our first Sports Day 7 years ago when the college was founded, a merger between 3 schools in the area.  It was a pitiful affair with a student body of only around 2,000 and very little organization, preparation or participation.  But over the years, as the school has grown, the college’s sports day meeting has reached a more professional level.

         Our Wednesday afternoon opening ceremonies, I must say, were very well-done.  The administrators were appreciative and impressed by the hard work of the participants.  Every department had selected their best students to wear simple uniforms (usually the same colored T-shirts or sweat suits) and march around the track, salute the leaders and then continue onward to line up on the field. 

         The English department was chosen to have 2 groups:  One to represent our department and the other to be the marching flower girls.  The flower girls did formations in front of the platform while waving their colorful bouquets to the rhythm of the music. 

         Everyone cheered on and clapped for their special efforts, probably making their choreographer very happy, not to mention very relieved. He’d been working with them for hours on the field every day for weeks. I had been witness to his frustration and hair pulling, his many terse and cutting remarks bellowed over the loudspeaker, but they all managed to pull it off with flying colors.

         Hats off (and brownie points galore) to the English Department!

         The dogs and I hung out off and on during the competitions.  It was quite moving to see classmates supporting one another, even for those whose athletic ability was so poor they could hardly make it over the finish line.

         It was all in fun, including events held for the teachers who giggled, laughed and chided one another throughout their sad performances. 

         Only those in the PE department faculty truly shone, taking the competition a bit more seriously and winning just about everything.  (That includes their students as well.)  The rest of us just flopped along in high spirits.

           Although it was more  meaningful actually being there, I hope the photo album gives you a good idea of our Luzhou Vocational and Technical College Sports Days’ excitement.

           Enjoy, everyone, and Ping An! (Peace)

            Last week gave Chinese a 3-day weekend with the coming of Qing Ming Jie, or Tomb Sweeping Day, celebrated on April 4.  This is a new holiday added to the official government calendar and is in its second year. 

            Qing Ming is a traditional Chinese day  where relatives visit the tombs of their ancestors, clean the gravesites, offer incense or flowers and have a small memorial service.

            In countryside areas, this is quite popular as many relatives are buried in the mountainsides nearby hometowns or villages.

            Most modern Chinese today, however, are cremated and thus there is no grave to visit.  People enjoy going to temples instead or merely performing duties in the grassy yard complex of their apartments by burning paper money and lighting joss sticks outside.

            This year had our newspapers and TV stations reporting on those visiting mass gravesites of  the Sichuan earthquake victims.  The visiting family members had traveled many hours to reach areas deep in the mountains, arriving in small towns and villages that had been completely destroyed last year by the quake.  Some had not returned since that terrifying day as there had been nothing left to come back to.

            This past weekend, they came by the thousands to mourn their loved ones, many of whom had never been found.

A Trip To Chengdu

            While everyone in the country received Monday as a day off from school, our Luzhou college designated last Friday as a day off instead. 
            Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) had 4 student babysitters who camped out in my apartment watching movies, eating snacks, cooking and enjoying home life.  In the meantime, Little Flower and I left for Chengdu on Thursday afternoon for our own vacation time.

            It had been 6 weeks since last I met up for dinners and outings with the Yang family, Jalin and her parents, who were my neighbors last year in Chengdu.   I dream about the family’s home-cooked dinners almost every night  I’m in Luzhou and am always invited over for meals when I visit.  It’s just another special treat that I enjoy along with taking Jalin to the Bookworm for fun or wandering through the teen fashion clothes’ stores in her neighborhood.

            But my main purpose in going to Chengdu had to do with Easter.

Gearing Up For Easter: Religious Lessons and Easter Seals

            Along with Christmas, Easter is another important cultural event I feel is necessary for my students’ understanding of America and their future roles as English teachers in China.       

            Our Easter hand-out includes both religious and traditional symbols of this springtime holiday.  Last week, we learned the reason Christians celebrate Easter.  We covered the significance of the cross, the resurrection of Christ, and the special days Christians have for this season and what they do.

            The highlight of this lesson is when everyone receives a lily from their teacher, Connie. 

            In actuality, I can’t give every student a real lily, mostly because they aren’t cheap.  But because of generous Easter Seal mailings from so many of you who keep up with my life in China as a United Methodist, I am able to give each student an Easter Seal sticker. 

            Because Easter Seals are nowhere in China, these are truly an exciting gift which the students love.  They carefully choose from the sheets which lily they’d like. 

            There are so many varieties and kinds, it’s difficult to choose.

            Once the selection is made, the students enjoy finding a place to put them.  Some place it into their textbooks.  Others onto their English folders, which hold all their hand-outs from my class.  And quite a few put their lily right on their cell phone, where they can see it every day.

            Wherever they place their Easter Seal, needless to say, this special stamp is one which they truly hold dear and will always remember as being a unique gift given from their foreign teacher, Connie, at Easter. 

            As for me, I always remember those of you who thought enough to hold onto them from year to year and send to me. 
            Who’d have thought such a simple thing would bring so much joy to so many of us?

 From Easter Seals to Chocolate Eggs and Jelly Beans

            Which brings me to the reason for my visit to Chengdu for our Tomb Sweeping  holiday.

            In America, you’re probably inundated in Easter goodies and supplies at this moment.  The Walmart Easter aisles are overflowing with chocolate eggs, foil-wrapped Easter bunnies and little baskets filled with cutesy stuffed animals.  The Dollar Store is practically giving away their seasonal Easter offerings for next-to-nothing.  For a few dollars, you can probably get enough special gift items for friends, relatives or children without spending any more than $10.

            But in my area, finding such things is not an easy task, nor is it a cheap one.

            I specifically went to Chengdu to search for Easter buys in  the tiny Sabrina’s International Store and the mega Metro, which is much like our U.S. Sams Club.  It’s  a large warehouse of both international and Chinese goods, a place foreigners love. 

            Pickings were slim in both places, and expensive, but I did manage to get several small chocolate Easter eggs and a chocolate bunny for $20.

            These will be used as visual aids for the students and be the winning prizes of a drawing we’ll have for our Easter activity evening. (More on that later)

            Fortunately, jelly beans are in great abundance in China so I didn’t have to shell out a fortune for those.

            That’s a good thing as it allows each class to enjoy our  “How many jelly beans in the bottle?” guessing game.  Students write down their guess after inspecting the bottle filled with jelly beans.  At the end of the class, we see who is the closest to the number.  The winner, of course, gets the entire jelly bean bottle.

            For all 8 classes, I’ve already prepared 8 bottles and a few jars.

            The total number of jelly beans I’ve counted out?  1,867.

            Yes, that’s a lot of counting and a lot of candy, but it’s well worth the enthusiastic screams of delight  from the winners who rush up to get their prize. 

            Nothing like games and candy to brighten up a classroom, let me tell you!

An Evening of Easter Fun

            Already, students are anxiously awaiting our evening Easter Activity Night.  We’ll be having two of these next week, one for 4 classes (180 students) and one for another 4 classes (another 180 students).

            Coloring eggs, making crafts and having our Easter chocolate drawing will be among the list of fun things we’ll be doing.

            This is an optional event so I don’t expect everyone to show up but I do hope we’ll have a fairly good crowd.

Sports Days Are Here!

            I had hoped to do our Easter activities this week but we ran into a slight scheduling problem.

            This week is our annual school sports’ meeting, meaning Wednesday afternoon to Friday there will be no classes held.  Students will only be participating in track and field events or watching to cheer on their classmates as the participants try to win honor for their department or their class.

            Sports days in Chinese high schools and colleges are meant to promote physical health, school camaraderie, feelings of community and give students a break from studies.

             Because there are no sports teams or few competitive sport activities in school, these Sport Day meetings are very important. 

             Just like in the Olympics, the opening ceremony is a serious affair.  Every departmental class is required to march by the stadium stage, shouting enthusiastic, rhythmic chants of “I love exercise!  I love good health!  I love my school!” while keeping in perfect step.

            Opening ceremonies are a mandatory event that everyone has to participate in so students have been practicing for the past 6 weeks to get their marching down.  It’s quite something to see and also hard for Americans to understand, this "forced" unity and practice time. 

            Can you imagine getting an entire American university student body interested and excited about such an event, much less have department student reps march around  in military precision, wave departmental flags and create special formations on the field?

            I think not.

            Chinese teachers and administrators are still required to be on campus, in the offices, during this time to help with school duties and paperwork.  As faculty, we are also invited to join in the games as well.  Many have already signed up for relays, high jump, and other races. 

           As for me, I’ll most likely be on the sports field with Little Flower and her tiny brother, Xiao Lao-lao.

            We’ll all three be giving our support for the students and my colleagues. 

            So be looking for lots of pictures of our upcoming Sports Day meeting, starting tomorrow.

Finishing Off

            Here’s wishing you all a blessed Good Friday and a great Easter celebration at home or church.  As always, I’ll be attending services at our Luzhou Protestant Church where the baptism of new believers will have the pews crowded.

             Now that’s definitely a “Hallelujah!” moment.

From far away China, Ping An (Peace) and Easter greetings are sent your way.

ttp://www.csmonitor.com/2009/0318/p18s02-hfes.html

             Buddhism teaches that everyone may reach the perfected state and each person is a Bodhivisattva, or Buddha-to-be.  In Chinese tradition, the symbolic figure of Buddha is Kwan Yin, a female dispensing compassion with a thousand arms.  Every year, this religious entity has a special day dedicated directly to her.  For those in China, March 15th (Sunday) was the day. 

             Read below to see how Pure Spring Temple, our small Buddhist worship place along the Yangtze, celebrated this special day.

The Day Before Kwan Yin Day

            In the bright sunshine, our Kwan Yin Eve afternoon began. 

            Wa Yao Ba road filled  with sellers of joss sticks (a type of incense stick) and huge red candles in celebration of Kwan Yin.

             I along with Little Old (LF wasn’t in a mood to go out) carefully squeezed our way along the roadside to see what was going on at our little temple.   No sidewalks make this a hazardous task as buses, taxis, construction trucks and cars zoom by.

            My purpose was to take a look at the preparations everyone was making, getting ready for the next day’s crowds as those in Luzhou come out to worship.  The highest numbers would be arriving Sunday to pay respects on this special Buddhist day.  They’d fill this narrow roadway along the Yangtze with hundreds of  people and cars.  Our school gate entrance would be open for car parking to accommodate those who drove.

            On Saturday afternoon, the disabled beggars and fortune tellers (the older-looking, the more decrepit, the blinder, the better) had staked their spots leading down the stairwell to the temple.  There’d be more the next day, and thousands of visitors as well, but when you’re in business, “the early bird catches the worm” does ring true.

             Even on Saturday, a few managed to snag the the slim number of visitors present.

            Along the corridor route, our yearly squatters expect to get the most business, with sympathetic Chinese giving the poor a yuan or two and others looking to see what lies in their future.

            Little Old, with his missing teeth and dragging tongue, drew a lot of interest from those we passed. 

            “How cute!” we heard.
            “Foreigners like dogs,” one fortune teller said.

            Another, perhaps in her 90s, shoved a stool my way.

           “Sit down!” she encouraged.  “I’ll tell your fortune.”

            I smiled and shook my head.

            “How about the dog?” she eagerly suggested.

            Obviously it’s any ploy used for a buck, even among Buddhist spiritual readers.

            If LO, a bit nervous and frightened among strangers, had been more cooperative, I might have taken her up on it.

Good Luck Traditions Followed For Kwan Yin Day

            At the base of the stairwell, a huge character of happiness, “fu”,  is displayed on the wall. The custom at this temple is to stand several feet away, close your eyes and walk toward the character.  The objective is to land your hands directly on the fu.   Then you run their hands along the character’s strokes.  This will to bring you good luck.

            At the temple’s doorway, I watched a few giggling visitors rub their hands over the cement lions that guard either side.  Some were stuffing the mouths with money, another giver-of-luck tradition to those who do so.

            The day before Kwan Yin Day, there were only a few lit candles to commemorate our Buddha of Compassion.  But come Sunday, the place would be packed with those giving in to their Buddhist heritage, even though they don’t believe in it or openly practice it. 

Sunday:  Kwan Yin Day Arrives!

            How interesting that my Sunday morning was spent in our Luzhou church, worshiping with those of my faith, and my afternoon was taken up in the Buddhist temple, observing others taking part in their religious traditions.

            As I had thought, our Yangtze river road was overrun today with many Kwan Yin well-wishers making their way carefully to or from the temple.  They stopped to buy necessary items from those selling incense and candles. 

            The fruit stands were likewise doing a great business.  Offering fruit to the Buddha, even flowers, cans of beer or soft drinks, is a common practice.  These are placed on the altar in front of the many Buddhist figures throughout the temple.  When the altar is too cluttered with offerings, the volunteers carry them out to another area to make room for others’ gifts.
            Our beggars had increased, some displaying open wounds or shocking deformities which filled their begging bowls with sympathetic bills.  The fortune tellers and palm readers were likewise quite busy. 

            I wondered if the our elderly woman  from yesterday would be so willing to tell the dog’s fortune today. 

            With the amount of traffic coming and going, the amount of burning going on was  quite heavy.   

             In a huge concrete bin outside the temple, bundles of incense sticks and paper money were thrown into flames shooting upward.

            Inside the courtyards, the elderly volunteers were busy scooping out wax from the water basins where the candles dripped into.  The women were also responsible for discarding burned-down candles by carrying them away.  I was amazed at the strength of these ladies, some in their 80s, who hoisted buckets of worship waste down stairwells and into courtyards for disposal.

            Inside the temple, incense smoked and wound its way throughout every room.  The use of incense clears the air of evil spirits and represents concentration for those sending their prayers to Buddha. Beautiful flowers, a reminder of morality, lay amidst fruit, unopened coke cans on the altar as well.

            The Pure Spring Temple has numerous enclosed levels that climb up the river’s slope.  It’s a very small temple with small rooms but it’s still quite impressive from my viewpoint.   At every level, you can enter worship centers to visit the Buddha of your choice.  At the very top level, overlooking the Yangtze, is our Kwan Yin with her thousands arms spread behind her like a peacock’s feathers.

            Because so many candles are placed on her altar, many are moved outside during the day so it’s not too crowded.  These were carefully placed on the outside platform where visitors could use them to light new candles.

            Yet another level of the temple is where the nuns live.  It’s a small area as there are only 7 or 8 who are full-time servants of Buddha living here.  Their dormitories looked clean and tidy, a very peaceful place to live and work in dedication to your chosen faith.

Dinner is served!

            The highlight of coming here on Kwan Yin Day is that you get a home-cooked meal for just 3 yuan (44 cents), as much as you can eat.  The nuns and volunteers are all in charge of feeding lunch to the hundreds that pass through.  How they can feed so many is beyond me.  The cooking facilities are small but the prepared food just kept pouring out of the small window to the kitchen. 

            An adjacent courtyard was filled with families and others sitting at tables, shoveling in the many vegetarian dishes set before them.  Rice was plentiful and no one was going hungry on this day.

            For 44 cents, that was quite a bargain.

A Kwan Yin Surprise

            Just as I was getting ready to leave the temple, I heard someone call out from the crowds, “Connie!”

            Turning around, I couldn’t believe who it was.

            It was Erika, a Chinese high school English teacher who used to call me years ago to talk about her troubles.  One of our English teachers here at the college had introduced us when I first arrived in Luzhou and the friendship started from there.

            I hadn’t seen or spoken to Erika in almost 4 years.  She used to phone quite often with tales of woe about her teenage son.

             In Britain, we’d call him a “rotter.”

            He was in his late teens, had no desire to go to school, would play video games all night at local computer bars (stealing his mom’s money to do so), and was just plain mean  to his mom. 

            (“Ah, the teenage years,” I hear some of you parents sigh.)

            Erika was also divorced, which made things even harder for her as people labeled her as the divorcee. Yes, divorce in China is something that not many want to talk about or have happen.  It reflects upon the person, especially when children are involved.

              The son had grown up without a father.  Erika often blamed herself for his behavior, that he hadn’t had a male influence in his life and she had somehow failed him.  His father, too, wanted to have nothing to do with him.  There again caused for a troubled young teen, feeling abandoned even though his mother cared so much for him.

            The poor woman had no one to talk to so she’d call me.  Sometimes, she’d let out her frustrations for over an hour, not knowing what to do and feeling helpless. 

            The only thing I could do was listen and hope that my small action gave her some comfort, that another person (who wasn’t going to tattle to all her friends) cared.

            Then Erika stopped calling and we lost touch.  After being away a year in Chengdu, I returned to Luzhou where I tried to contact her but the telephone number was disconnected.  Thus her name just stayed forlornly on my telephone list among others who have long since gone from my life.

            But here we were on Kwan Yin Day, reunited at the temple’s doorway between two cement lions which, I might add, I had just rubbed for good luck not more than 20 minutes before.

            There were squeals of surprise and exchanges of greetings from both of us.

             I was happy to learn her son, now 21, was in Xinjiang Province working in the oil fields.  It was a steady job and brought him more money than her teaching job. From what I gathered, after his rebellious teenage years were behind him, he had become a better son and one who sent money home to his mom every month.  He also called often to check up on her and keep her updated on life from his end.

            Erika and I quickly made sure we had one another’s telephone numbers.  We were definitely not losing touch again.

            Eventually, the two of us made our way to Wa Yao Ba Road, where I saw Erika onto the city bus for her ride back home.  She stood at the window, waving and smiling as it drove away.  I did the same from the roadside, as dust and grit swirled up around me, before heading back to my apartment where lesson planning awaited me.

In Closing for the Day

             What a fascinating and fortuitous Sunday it had been!  

            One does wonder if Kwan Yin is smiling at this Christian who visits the Buddhist temple for the afternoon and is then reunited with a very dear friend.

I know God must be, as I’m certain He put me right there in the place that was needed for a surprising blessing to occur.

            From along the Yangtze River, here’s hoping your 3^rd Sunday of Lent was just as wonderful as mine.

            Ping An! (Peace)

A Quick Trip to Chengdu     

            It was a fast trip to Chengdu, the fastest I’ve had in a long time:  Up one night (Tuesday) and back the next afternoon (Wednesday).

            The only thing that wasn’t fast about it was the road construction.  The Sichuan express highway was built 8 years ago and now takes us directly to Chengdu in 3 ½ hours, instead of the previous 8 to 9 hours of weaving through mountainsides on narrow roads and through tiny towns.  But the amount of traffic has led to numerous repairs, meaning many times we have one lane open instead of four as workers try to mend the bumps, deep grooves and holes caused by so much heavy road use.  One side waits 30 minutes or longer for a turn while the other side crawls slowly by.  The back-up is incredible! 

            For myself, after finishing up classes last Tuesday, I took the last bus to Chengdu at 5:20 p.m. and didn’t arrive until nearly 11 p.m. due to delays.  We passengers were all getting quite antsy toward the end, especially after our 1 ½ hours waiting time to move even an inch. 

            The miles of cars, buses and trucks awaiting their turn to squeeze through the open lane stopped full. 

            Hundreds of male smokers got off to enjoy their cigarettes.  You could see rows of their red lit butts from a distance in the darkness.

             Women and children disappeared off into the nearby fields to relieve themselves.  Several private car drivers stepped outside to chat with one another in the chilly night air.

            I’d have had LF out there for a walk if she’d been with me but this trip was one where I left her behind.

            On this trip, Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) would be coming to Luzhou.

Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) Comes to Luzhou

            For 3 weeks, I’d been searching for a home for our toothless little guy.

             I’d asked my Chengdu neighbors from my old apartment complex, even parading LO (Little Old) around as a pity poster dog for everyone to see. Would anyone like a sweet Chihuahua like this one, healthy and ready to go?

            No takers.

            I  posted videos on Chinese and U.S. sites of Little Old’s plight, and  included my name and number.

            No takers.

            I’ve been in constant email contact with the Chengdu Economic Daily reporter, Mr. Wu, who has been likewise helping me ask others for a home for LO.

            No luck.

            After 3 weekends of visits from me at Dr. Q’s animal hospital, and after 3 weeks of being  shut up in a cage, Little Old needed some kind of happy place to hang out.

            Where else but with me in Luzhou?
            Thus on Wednesday morning, LO received her second round of vaccinations from Dr. Q (we have 2 more to go in the next month), was placed into a new carrier and off we went far to the south to his new home.

Little Brother at Home with Big Sister

            I must say, I did have reservations about the greeting Little Old, a younger, male Chihuahua, would get from Little Flower, a very strong Alpha dog personality.  LO had visited (without incident) my Chengdu hotel room several times with my dog there but this situation was more of  an invasion of a territorial home. 

            Would there be a problem?
            Well, it seems I had nothing to worry about.

            Little Flower basically just ignores Little Old even though Little Old would like some contact time.        

           He’s already explored everything in the apartment.  He has his place on one side of the heater while LF has her place on the other. They each have their own feeding stations and their own bedding places but as far as home rule is concerned, that’s definitely Little Flower.  She’s already made known by a snap that her toys are off limits, although Little Old isn’t exactly sure what a toy is or what you do with it.  He hasn’t had too much experience with playtime.

“No, That’s Not Xiao Hua (Little Flower)”  

            The dogs’ best interaction time is on walks, where LO happily follows his big sister around everywhere. 

            Our first day out was on Thursday, a gorgeously warm 70 degrees after we’d been in the cold, overcast 50s for over a week. The campus was abuzz with the fact that the foreign teacher suddenly has two dogs, not one, although I did make announcements to everyone that Little Old needs a home and wasn’t permanently staying with me. 

            Interestingly enough, there was  confusion about which dog was which.

             Some thought Little Old was Little Flower.  How that could happen was beyond me.  LF is a good deal taller, beautiful dazzling coat, strong straight legs and a female.  

            Little Old is a short, squat  thing with bow legs, tongue lolling out due to no jaw or lower teeth, stained fur from outside living and a prominent  difference in anatomy I have no idea how anyone could miss.

            But Chinese, I have found, aren’t too used to looking at details so there you go.

A Lover All The Way:  Entertaining Those On The Sports Field

            One thing that endears everyone to Little Old is that fact he’s such a lover.  He’ll sidle up to anyone for a belly rub, his little body curled up in a submissive manner for a pet.

            The Thursday we spent on the sports’ field proved him to be just such a loving creature among those hanging out on the grass, enjoying the sun.

            A happy group of students from Qing Hai University (our branch school) were quite taken by LO.   One dog-lover picked him up and cradled him in her arms while her classmates gathered around to pet him.  LO closed his eyes, almost drifting off to sleep.

            LF, on the other hand, was ready for playtime.  She brandished her Frisbee, shaking it with such fervor that a majority  wanted to have nothing to do with her.  She can sound quite ferocious and aggressive when it comes to play.  I could fully understand why they’d much rather extend their attention toward a gentle, sweet, quiet little dog than an overly hyper one   

            Such a sunny day had also brought out numerous couples to the field. They were wrapped in each other’s arms or stretched out on the grass. The boys rested their heads in the laps of their girlfriends who gently stroked their hair.  The boys softly pulled tufts of hair away from their girlfriends’ faces to reveal shy smiles.  Heads pressed together in whispers of secret thoughts and feelings.

            These kind of open displays used to be forbidden at our school 7 years ago.  The guards would go around and pull the students apart, chastising them or writing up their names to be turned in to their head teachers for discipline. 

            Our school leaders and school rules specifically told the students no male-female relationships were permitted on the campus.  None would be tolerated and if caught, you’d suffer the consequences of full humiliating criticism.

            Needless to say, it was pretty much a joke among everyone, even the teachers and guards.   No one listened much and let things slide, although the students were careful about getting caught.

            But now that China has opened more to the outside world, with Net access and movies from around the world, social and cultural customs among young people have changed.  Whereas sex and love were secretive topics, and absolutely “no-no”s among students of any age in China, it’s now becoming popular.  Relationship newspaper columns and Internet hotlines now are the rage, giving advice to the young and old how to handle their affections.  In public,   holding hands, touching, kissing (although still not too commonly seen in the open), and hugging are seen and done without reprimand anymore.

            Thus on the sports field during nice days, or on beautiful star-filled evenings, you’ll come across the young people out for a lovers’ romantic moment.

            No one interrupts these private moments.  We all just pass by the boyfriend-girlfriend pairs without a second thought, but when it comes to Little Old, couples on the grass seem to be up for grabs.   

            Last Thursday, our toothless guy visited every couple for a pet and rub.

            Very gently, hands caressed the little dog who flopped on the grass next to them.  His tongue fell to the side.  His eyes closed.  He was obviously in doggie heaven.

            One does wonder what kind of sad life he had before.  Thank goodness that’s over with, . . . for now, anyway.

The Search for A Luzhou Home

            While Chengdu didn’t prove too great a place for finding LO a home, Luzhou is becoming a bit more promising.

             Already, I have the elderly couple downstairs who are considering LO as a family member for their grandson.  The little boy is about 9 years old and is a very special Chinese child in that he’s not spoiled.  He respectfully talks to me often and is just a sweet, well-behaved, well-mannered kid.  His visits to Grandma and Grandpa are every other weekend.  Sometimes, he spends the week with them and they see him off to school.

             His eyes lit up when I said LO had no home and was needing a place to live.  

            “Do you want a dog?” Grandma asked him and he nodded his head enthusiastically.

            “Better ask your mom first,” I suggested and we left it at that.

            There are 2 more families as well who are interested.  One has a connection with Ci-ci, who is an English teacher here at my college.  Ci-ci’s boyfriend’s mother has been by herself for several years after her husband died. Cici believes that the mother might like a little dog to keep her company.  

            And another possible family is the vice-dean of my department, Marty Li.  His wife has seen pictures of LO on the Internet, read his story and seen his video, and feels he might make a good pet for them.  

            In all cases, LO and his possible adoptees will have to wait a bit because all his vaccinations are not yet completed.  He has two more to go, which will all be finished by April 6.  Because his immune system is not yet protected against such diseases as distemper or parvovirus, which are common killers among pets in China, I’d rather keep him with me to make 100% sure he’s ready to handle the dog ownership world.

            Until then, I’m sure there will be more updates on Xiao Lao-lao (Little Old) and his foster care with me in future blogs.

            Here’s wishing you Ping An (peace) for your week, everyone!  Have a great Sunday.