Return to China

Posted on February 12, 2009 by connieinasia
 
Picking Up Xiao Hua (Little Flower)    
    

         It was an anxious and long hike up to Mrs. He’s home on the 7th floor of her apartment building.  Jalin was tagging along behind me as it was a Sunday afternoon and she didn’t have classes to attend.  I’d just arrived in Chengdu that morning from a  2-day trip from the States.  Flight changes and an overnight in Beijing made it a very long journey with very little sleep.  But my first order of business after settling into the hotel here has, and will always be, getting the dog, Xiao Hua (Little Flower). 7 weeks apart and it was time for reuniting.

           Once again, Mrs. He (a very gracious hostess) met us at the door along with two yapping doggies, her poodle and a very excited Chi, Little Flower.  I was relieved to see not only had she happily settled into her temporary home while I was gone but had a playmate as well.  Her figure was intact and her meds for her arthritis condition were obviously working well.  She was all over the place, bounding from couch to sofa chair to floor, while we all sat around to chat about my trip to America.

          As always, I presented Mrs. He with small gifts for her family as well as a money envelope for LF’s stay.  We made this monetary agreement 7 years ago and I stick to it, although Mrs. He considers us friends and insists I shouldn’t do it. 

          "Consider it a hong bao (Chinese New Year red envelope) for your daughter," I tell her.  Mrs. He’s girl is now 21 and a junior in university.  It’s still the custom to give red envelopes to older young people as well so this pretty much satisfies her uneasiness. 

           In China, if you’re buying or gifting for the kids, pretty much anything is acceptable.

           We all laughed at stories about LF which Mrs. He related, including how the dog always wants to get under the covers to sleep with her and her husband.

            Mrs. He re-enacts a shivering Little Flower pawing at the covers around her neck, insisting she needs under there with the husband and wife team.  

            I merely laugh.

            I don’t dare tell her this American has no problem with the dog sandwiched cozily in bed  between the sheets and the coverlet.  It’s one of those unspoken truths we both know takes place but don’t mention.  Being Chinese, she’d feel forced to tsk in utter horror at such an idea and I’d be forced to admit I spoil the dog that much.

            Better to keep the dog-in-the-bed topic in the unspoken category of our relationship.

 Resting Up In The Capital City Before Holidays End

            The week is coming to an end here in Chengdu.  I am getting over jetlag and finishing up a few things before returning to Luzhou on Saturday with the new semester beginning on Monday. In the meantime, I’ve had a very exciting evening for Da Nian (Big Year), which was last Monday.  This was the official Chinese New Year’s end to truly bring in the 1st day of the Ox on Tuesday. 

           The Chinese Lantern Festival in Chengdu is still in full swing at the big park outside of town, although last Monday was the festival’s day itself.  It’s been going on for over a month and will continue to the 23rd.  I’ve already been with Jalin, her mom and her mom’s younger sister to enjoy the displays and fight our way through the crush of other spectators. 

            Most students are still on holiday this week although not so for Jalin.  She will be taking her high school entrance exam this summer. Her classes started a week earlier than others to prepare for this important test.  Senior high school students about to take the college entrance exams in June likewise have already returned to their studies.

          We’ve been making up for her diligence, however, with visits in the evening to The Bookworm, where Jalin takes her homework to do for the next day.

Chengdu’s Enjoyable Hang-out for Foreigners:  The Bookworm

          The Bookworm is a mere 15 minutes’ walk from us.  It’s  a library-style, restaurant-cafe that serves international foods, drinks, offers lectures by visiting authors, holds special holiday celebrations and invites all to enjoy comfy sofas with their laptops, offered magazines or choices of thousands of English books lining their walls.  This is a foreigner’s hang-out but quite a few select Chinese also like to patron the place. 

         There are even children’s English speaking activities on Saturday morning with skits, book reading and craft time led by adults from the international community. 

         And recently, we’ve all been enjoying some new guests of the establishment:  2 kittens belonging to the owner.  Both the long-haired and short-haired kitties have become the favorites of the place.  Our little  library felines hop onto tables, drink saucers of cream we offer from our coffees, bat at our newspapers, sit on our magazines and curl up on our laps.   

          Yes, the place has a very family-home, quiet feel to it.  This is probably why Jalin and I have enjoyed  frequenting it so often this week. For me, it’s a feeling of being back in America.  For Jalin, it’s a pleasant and different cultural experience that she’s not used to as an average Chinese teenager.

          I do have to admit, however, that there’s another side to the place.  It definitely meets the needs of the single crowd, including young (and old) looking for dates.    Jalin and I spend a lot of time snickering over the pick-up lines the men (mostly the older ones) throw out at the giggly Chinese girls they approach.  

           Yes, the Bookworm offers a lot of entertainment for all.

 Closing Off

           As I do not have access to my own computer, you will have to wait for a photo album of enjoyable pictures from our Lantern Festival outing as well as the Bookworm.  

           Stay tuned for more news from China!

          As always, Ping An (peace) for your day.       

           

   

  

Posted in Return to China | Leave a comment

Capturing the Chinese New Year

Posted on January 31, 2009 by connieinasia
 

       When I was teaching in Taiwan, our neighborhood had a very special Chinese New Year tradition.  I share it here with you for the newly-arrived Year of the Ox.

Chinese New Year is a slippery holiday.

I discovered this during my three years in Taiwan as an English teacher. Pinpointing the exact day for celebrations and figuring out which animal was assigned to what year on the Chinese lunar calendar was a constant struggle for me. Nor could I depend on my Taiwanese colleagues for help. Not only did they often misinform me about the dates, but they left out important details of customs which were necessary for me to know about. One of these concerned a long-lasting tradition practiced within the school’s apartment complex where I lived.

On the day of Chinese New Year, it is customary for those in Taiwan to visit one another, exclaiming the Chinese New Year greeting "Gongxi, gongxi!"(Congratulations!) and offering words of good luck for the year. Our principal was the one to begin these early morning visits by stopping at apartment doors to greet her neighbors and invite them to join her on the rounds of our small community. One by one, those visited followed after her until the last person joined to complete the neighborhood. After a quick group photo, everyone then returned home to prepare for their own private celebrations with relatives and friends.

My first year in Taiwan, no one bothered to tell me about this New Year’s custom. I was so pre-occupied with the end of the school year and my mother’s arrival that I hadn’t even asked if something special was happening on that particular day. My "awakening" came at 7:30 in the morning with an insistent pounding on my door.

Hair askew, bleary-eyed and a tad grouchy, I sprang out of bed and opened my door to a crowd of excited Taiwanese.

"Gongxi, gongxi!" my principal and neighbors gleefully sang out.

No one seemed to mind that I had just rolled out of bed. They insisted my still-slumbering mother and I join them for the rest of the village tour, as well as the group photo afterwards. Mom and I always laugh at that picture: There we stand, the groggy, disheveled foreigners amidst the cheery, well-dressed Taiwanese.

The next year, I was determined to make a good showing for Chinese New Year. After asking a friend for the exact date, I began planning how best to impress my neighbors for their special day. I prepared little bags of "lucky" candy. I placed happiness couplets on my door. I practiced my "Gongxi, gongxi!" until I sounded like a native. On the important day, I awakened early, applied a decent layer of make-up and slipped into a stunning dress. Then I sat by my open doorway and anxiously awaited the coming of my neighbors.

For four hours, I waited. It was noon before I finally gave up, believing that the principal had gone on vacation that year and thus the visits had been canceled. Not until the next morning, when I was aroused from bed by an oddly familiar knocking, did I realize my friend had told me the wrong day. Once again, Chinese New Year had slipped through my fingers.

My third New Year’s in Taiwan, I vowed I would be victorious. This time, I checked the date through a more reliable source, the Internet. I again prepared my decorations and "lucky" candy bags. I dressed appropriately. I confidently stood at my doorway. Low and behold, my visitors arrived right on time.

"Gongxi, gongxi!" I cried, thrusting my prepared sweets into their hands while enjoying the looks of surprise my holiday welcome was eliciting.

Principal Mei was especially pleased by my enthusiasm. She immediately linked her arm in mine. Side by side, we jubilantly led the group on the annual rounds of the community. I was even honored by being the official photographer for the neighborhood photograph. Hands clasped and shoulders embraced, all smiled as I triumphantly snapped away.

At last, I thought, Chinese New Year is mine!

When it came time for us to depart, Principal Mei pulled me aside.

"We are so happy you prepared for us this year," she said. "It makes us feel very special, but do you understand the Chinese above your door?"

I gazed at the holiday banner I had hurriedly placed up the night before.

"Gongxi, gongxi!"" I proudly read. "Good fortune in the Year of the Tiger."

"But, Connie," Principal Mei whispered sweetly, "this is the Year of the Rabbit."

Posted in The Chinese New Year | Leave a comment

Out With The Rat, In With The Ox

Posted on January 26, 2009 by connieinasia
 

It’s hard to believe just 10 days ago, I was in China’s northern Lanzhou city, enjoying a last dash to the grocery store to pick up a few items as gifts for friends in the States. The crowds were already starting for the Chinese New Year buy-out of clothes, food and candies for the big January 26th celebration when the Rat Year would leave us and the Ox Year would take its place.

As with the approach of any special day, either in China or the States, entire aisles had been cleared of daily necessity items and replaced with holiday merchandise.

It was hard to miss the sea of red ornaments, placed at the entranceway of the store to catch eager buyers’ attention. Chinese New Year danglies, stacks of red envelopes for money gifts to young people, prosperity couplet door hangings, Chinese happiness character posters and rounded lanterns lined an entire wall.

Sales on winter coats, long underwear, socks, suit jackets and padded pants crowded the clothing sections.

The food floor was overrun with specialty meats (flattened duck, juicy sausages, dried beef strips), waves upon waves of assorted candy counters and fresh fruits up from the southern regions.

Grocery carts were loaded as entire families shopped together: young couples held hands, proud grandparents balanced bundled-up babies in their arms, mothers and fathers pulled their excited children through the masses. There is nothing like shopping in China before the New Year holidays.

Now we have the day almost upon us here in the States but the upbeat, festive atmosphere is not to be found in my small town area. The streets are empty, the store aisles back to normal after Christmas and the shoppers average in number.

Nothing special going on here.

Today, the day before the Ox Year, my mother and I attended church and then returned home to a spaghetti dinner my father had prepared for us. Despite his healthy difficulties these past 4 months, he is still able to pull off a dinner or two when he’s feeling well. Today was just one such day.

In the quiet of our house, my mother and I have ushered in the new year by replacing last year’s rat with this year’s ox. How do we do this?

Well, every year, my mother waits for me to send a new Chinese decoration to hang up in the house for China’s Spring Festival (Chinese New Year). As is the custom in China, decorations stay up the entire year and are never taken down so as not to take away any good luck they bring. Only when the next Chinese New Year arrives is it safe to replace the old with the new. My mother lets hang her Chinese dangly through all four seasons before it’s time to retire our old year and bring in our new one.

Today, I retired the Year of the Rat by removing our rat decoration and my mother brought in the Year of the Ox by hanging up the xx, a rather ostentatious, wildly colorful bull’s head.

My greatest prayer is that the ox will bring about a better year than the rat, which has just seen more sorrows and troubled times than any animal should for 12 months.

For all my Chinese readers, I wish you much happiness for your special day on Monday. May your family gatherings be joyful, your spirits be high and the days ahead full of promise and hope.

From small town Marshall, Illinois, here’s sending you a Ping An (Peace) for your day!

Posted in A Visit Home to America | Leave a comment

A Wednesday in the Countryside

Posted on January 18, 2009 by connieinasia

 

Leaving for the Project Sites

 

            Our group set out at 8:30 a.m. from the hotel to visit two main projects near the smaller city of Dingxi, 1 ½ hours away by bus.  As we’d be traveling high into the mountains, on bumpy, narrow roads, 7 mini-vans had been hired rather than one huge tour bus.  There was a group of about 35: Amity English teachers (whose countries included Canada, America, Britain, Sweden, Finland, Germany and Austria),  a number of overseas’ sending agency representatives and Amity staff from Nanjing and Hong Kong.  In a biting 10 degrees, we loaded onto the vans under Lanzhou’s hazy skies and off we drove out of the city.

            The main expressway was first to bring us into Dingxi, where local government officials were there to greet us.

            Almost all Amity’s rural development projects are a cooperative effort between the local county or provincial government, the beneficiaries of the projects (in this instance, the villagers) and the Amity Foundation.  This partnership is created to empower and support the projects from within rather than just being Amity giving free hand-outs to those in need.  Funding for projects focuses on a 3-party system with each putting in their own portion of money, time and effort:  villagers, local government and Amity.  In the case where villagers are not able to fund a project due to lack of money, Amity and the local government will take over that role.

            Our visits for the day were to see the rewards of Amity’s micro-credit loan system and biogas, although many other projects in the region were likewise going on.

           

Amity’s  Micro-credit Loan System

 

              In China, limited loans from the bank are available to anyone who has an income.  No income, however, means no loan.  This makes it very difficult for the very poor to bring themselves out of poverty to help themselves.

              Another difficulty in bank loans deals with who gets the loan.  The signer of the loan is often allowed only by the man as the women villagers have no incomes.  The men are the ones to migrate into the larger cities, spending months at construction sites getting more money to send home.  The women are left in the villages to tend to farming or household chores. If the man is not present, or if a woman has no male in the family bringing in a salary, there is a problem.   

            Banks in China will just not give loans to such women or too low-income individuals, thus Amity has taken up this problem with its micro-credit loan program.

            Any villager or family can apply for a loan of up to 2,000 yuan (about $300 US) from Amity. Those with little family income or individuals who have no income are not discriminated against.  Of course, those who apply for loans have a carefully detailed plan of what they will do with the money, how it will benefit them to become financially independent individuals and how they will pay it back. In the case of these kinds of loans, the primary endeavors by locals include opening up small stores, raising livestock and farming. (In Gansu, potato and corn are the two major crops grown in the region.)

            A majority of the micro-credit loans are given to women who can then help support the family at home while the men are off in the cities.  This gives them a feeling of pride and success, being able to contribute greatly to the family income.  It also benefits the village, raising living standards and allowing others to service their community.

            According to those working in this program, almost all loans are paid back to Amity.

 

 

Bio-gas Project

              

            In Gansu, the dry weather creates a burden for women to clear areas of grass and what little wood there is to burn for cooking.  Deforestation has been a major problem due to this and also a great hardship for women who have to spend hours finding fuel every day.

            But there is a safe, environmental alternative for these dessert-like regions to get fuel and that is using bio-gas.

            Basically, with bio-gas, a special tank is built under the ground into which is placed human and animal waste.  The tank is sealed with a heavy cement lid. The natural gasses that build up inside this tank are fed out through pipes into the home and can then be used as a constant source of energy.  It flames the gas burners for cooking in the home and also heats the stove to warm the room or boil water. 

            Those wishing to have such a system installed for their homes must put down 900 yuan ($135) with the further costs covered by Amity and/or the local government.

             The benefits of such a system are amazing, not only for the environment but for the time, energy and hardship involved for searching the land to burn other things for fuel use (coal, corn husks, grass).  Then, too, the problem of what to do with livestock or human waste is taken care of.  Into the tank it goes, creating a sustainable source of clean energy.

            While the bio-gas system is a great one, Amity and government organizers are still struggling with convincing and informing more villagers of its excellent benefits, both to themselves and the land itself.  900 yuan is a fortune for many of these poor families.  They’d rather continue in the way they’ve always done than spend money on something they’ve managed without for generations.

 

A Potato Opera and a Tug-of-War in Friendship

 

            We visited two villages.  One had been re-located from the high mountain ranges, meaning their homes were 2-story cement buildings and located on accessible roads.  They were also in the lower-lying plains. 

            The second village was more rustic, found high into the mountains with typical mud-walled houses and no bus routes, stores or schools within miles.

            At the first village, we were entertained by village performers.  We had an erhu (Chinese fiddle) duet and a local opera performance about potato farmers in the field.

            At the mountainous village, we participated in a tug-of-war contest as an ice-breaker. We were also treated to boiled potatoes with salty condiments after our tour of the village and its Amity-benefited projects.

 

Amity’s Rural Development Work in China

 

            Both visits gave us a vivid, and moving, understanding of the work Amity does for people in need, and the work yet needing to be done in China.  Many times, those overseas’ only see on TV the wealthy cities, the prosperous regions, the “rich” China. Even we as teachers, located in our cozy cities and college campuses, see little of such areas, where a majority of our students are from.

 

            These kind of reminders make us realize there are still millions who need a helping hand.  What a blessing it is that the Amity Foundation is here to help, and an even greater blessing that we as Amity teachers were able to see Amity in action during our time in Gansu.

            As for those of you out there who will never make it on an Amity project tour, I hope you enjoy the photo album.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words and in this case, I’d have to say that’s right.

 

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

 

Note:  The Amity Foundation is a United Methodist Advance Special.  UM Churches wishing to support Amity and specific Amity projects, including Bible Printing in China, can easily do so via the Advance.

 

 

Posted in China's North | 1 Comment

A Visit To The Moon: Gansu Province

Posted on January 17, 2009 by connieinasia
 

            The dry, powdery, gray surface of the moon.

            That was my first impression flying into the Lanzhou Airport in northern Gansu Province, where our Amity Winter Conference was being held last week.

            Every year, we Amity teachers meet together for a week in different areas of the country where Amity rural development projects are taking place.  We are introduced to the area in our hotel meeting rooms, then go off to countryside sites to see Amity in action among the very poor.  We also do teacher workshops, sharing our lessons with one another, and fill in the extra time with worship, catching up, and being informed by staff about certain business items.  Then it’s off for vacation, wherever we choose, before the New Year holidays end and send us back to our schools, starting at times from Feb. 16 to March 1, depending on our colleges’ schedules.

            This being my first trip to Gansu, the barren mountainsides of sandstone and rock that stretched for miles truly amazed me.  After my lush, green, Sichuan panda country, I was literally dumped onto the moon’s surface where not a single green could be seen anywhere.  When it came to the busride into the capital city,  another surprise awaited me.  We drove and weaved through this bleak land for 70 minutes, not a single village or town in sight, before a sudden turn brought us to sprawling  Lanzhou (lahn-joe), a population of 3.5 million.

            According to statistics, there are 10 most polluted cities in the world.  5 of these are in China.  I was told years ago, Lanzhou was one of them (in the 1990s) but has been cleaned up quite a bit since then.  It’s still a bit more hazy than what I’ve experienced down south. The smog that hovered over and through it was impossible to miss.  There was nothing at all pretty about the place, from my perspective, just a lot of buildings and heavily trafficked main streets.  Given also that it was winter, with temperatures in the 20s, made it even more unpleasant. 

            From my 17th floor hotel window, the haze was dense and thick all during the week I was there.  The mountains barely managed to pierce through this smog although you could make them out a tiny bit.  Car horns and traffic was likewise atrocious, sending vehicle exhaust fumes puffing to overtake what little clean oxygen there might be for us people to breath in.

            Having this kind of introduction within a matter of hours to Gansu Province, I knew in an instant that Amity’s rural development projects were much needed here.  I just couldn’t imagine people surviving in such an environment, either in or outside of the city.  With rainfall being so little, sometimes not a single drop for over 5 months, how could people in the countryside and mountainous areas live?
            I was about to find out Wednesday, when our visits to Amity projects would take us to just those kind of barren places and bring us among the people in Gansu who lived there.   

Posted in China's North | Leave a comment

Final Exams: A Hopeless Case

Posted on January 11, 2009 by connieinasia
 
         It was hopeless.

        Not even the fourth time taking our conversation final was going to do it for poor Eric, a 1st year English major in my Freshman Class 2.
        From day 1, I knew Eric (Wu Tao) should have changed his major.  Not only couldn’t he respond to "What’s your name?" or read a simple sentence in English, but the entire class he spent huddled next to the monitor (class leader) for constant translation.
       His demeanor screamed "Countryside!" from the moment I saw him:  darkened, leathery skin from working in the fields, disheveled hair from not grooming, rumpled clothes, and his daily "deer in the headlight" look of being caught in an academic environment quite foreign from his rural lifestyle and limited educational background. 
       I became very used to his Jethrow-like confused, wide-eyed wonder and vacant expressions both in and out of class.
       Despite being lost a majority of the time, he always had a grin on his face and an eager jump to erase the board or hand out papers to the other students.  And his classmates were so kind and patient.  They sat next to him, trying to lead him through the lesson or explain in Chinese what was going on.
     Yet when it came to the conversation final, not even his classmates could help.
       For 5 weeks, we had practiced in class the group conversation final which would count for 70% of everyone’s grade.  In groups of 3, students practiced asking one another questions about the lessons we’d done.  In total, there were 20 questions which students had ahead of time to prepare for.  During the test, all 20 went into a pot.  Each student drew a question to ask his other two group-mates.  The last question was mine, a free-for-all which no one knew although I prepared them with the subjects beforehand.  Each student’s grade was based upon the answers given and also their group dynamics, such as helping one another, giving positive feedback and showing interest in each other’s replies.
       The test was designed so if everyone practiced, if everyone participated, if everyone prepared, all could pass.
       At least, that’s until Eric showed up.
       Although his classmates openly gave him the answers during the test, Eric just couldn’t manage.  He couldn’t read the question to lead his group.  He couldn’t understand the questions he was asked.  He couldn’t even repeat what his friends told him to say.  Mostly, he just sat in silence, looking around the room for signs of the holy spirit of English to descend upon him and bless him with something to say in this alien language he chose as his major.
       "I try again!  Try again!" were Eric’s parting words every time I announced his failure to pass.
        But by the fourth time, Eric was just getting worse (if that’s possible), not better.  Part of his problem had to do with his group-mates who were so frustrated by his inability to be helped that they snapped at him or sighed in utter exasperation.
        In the end, we all had to laugh, including Eric himself.  We knew it was impossible.  For Eric, English was an alien tongue and would most likely remain so for the rest of his life, no matter how hard he tried.
        The sympathetic teacher in me wasn’t able to give the poor guy a 0 so I gave him 10% for each test he took, a total of 40%.  I added to that a bag of candy to share with his testing group, dorm roommates and friends.
      The last I saw of him was on January 1st, New Year’s Day, after failing my test a fourth time.  Tucking his candy stash under his arm, he bounded excitedly down the steps to pack up his belongings for the 9-hour busride home.  The holidays had begun.  Tests were behind him.  Time to return home to see his parents and hometown, which I’m sure were greatly missed this semester.
       I do wish Eric a happy holiday but I sure hope he decides to change his major next semester.  For this upcoming Chinese Year of the Ox, he might have the strength of a bull to survive our college but he certainly doesn’t have the English language ability to do it.
 
        At present, I am in Lanzhou, the capital city of Gansu Province, to attend our winter Amity teacher’s conference.  The conference lasts for a week and will include teaching workshops given by Amity teachers as well as site visits to Amity rural development projects in the area.  Little Flower is at her babysitter’s home, Mrs. He, in Chengdu and will remain there for a month.  After the conference, I’ll be returning to the States to check up on my parents. 
       This week, more reports on Lanzhou to follow!

      From China, wishing you "Ping An!" (peace) for your Sunday.

 
 
Posted in Tales from Sichuan's Yangtze Rivertown, Luzhou | 1 Comment

New Year’s Day: Water, Water Everywhere . . . But Not Here!

Posted on January 1, 2009 by connieinasia
 

            New Year’s Eve kept me and Little Flower at home for a couple of reasons. 

            First was the fact that the rain made it a very unpleasant night to go out, even temple watching.

            Cold and wet are two things little Chihuahuas definitely don’t like, especially those who refuse to wear warm winter doggie clothes.  LF has a great dislike for anything that goes onto her body, even a collar.  Clothes are definitely on the hate list.  Once they’re on her, she stands stiffly at attention, refuses to budge and sulks.   Her wardrobe contains various styles, colors and materials, from fleece to cotton to knits, all bought in the hopes I could find something she’d like to wear.

            Nada, or rather meidei (may-day) as we say in Sichuanese.

            On a night like our New Year’s Eve, it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.  She’d have come home so filthy from the muck along the sidewalks and roadways, that she and the clothes would need a good washing.

            Which brings me to the second reason we didn’t go out.  Washing the dog, or anything for that matter, was going to be a problem as we’ve had no running water.

            Wednesday, around noontime, the water was turned off.  A majority of us assumed the workers on campus were doing some water repair work and thus we’d be without it for awhile.  But 6 p.m. had quite a few of us gathering around in the stairwell or outside, questioning each other  if we had water or not.

            Those across the hallway from me had water.  Those on my side didn’t.

            My elderly neighbors underneath me started phoning, along with others, only to have no answers from the school’s building manager’s office.  We had a 3-day holiday, starting at 5 p.m., and everyone had gone home.  The workers do live on campus but without orders, they aren’t about to come over here and help us out.

            According to gathered news, the 5th and 4th floor apartments above ours were having leaking pipes yet again so the water was turned off on our half of the building.  

             It’s been over 24 hours and we’re really not sure if it’ll be today, tomorrow, Saturday or Sunday when things will get back to normal.

            In China, we don’t drink water out of the tap as it’s unsafe but many do boil it first before drinking.  That also isn’t too safe due to all the rust, metals and pollutants found in the water itself. Those of us who are more concerned have purified water jugs delivered to our homes for drinking and cooking.   These cost around $1.30 each for a 5 gallon container and last about 1 week.

              This is what I have and what I’m using (quite sparingly, I might add) for washing dishes and sponging off in the shower.  But my elderly neighbors downstairs are frugal people.  They’ve boiled water for years in China and aren’t about to change their habits, even though their adult children have tried on several occasions to get them to do otherwise. 

            With no water from the tap, they are now collecting water from outside.  There is a rusty, leaking pipe attached to the outside wall and they’ve placed a bucket underneath to catch what they can.  They’ve already gotten 2 bucketfulls which they are using to wash dishes, cook with and flush out the toilet.

            And here I thought our 2009 would be off to a better start than last year.  Think again!

            From Little Flower and myself:  Here’s hoping your New Year’s Day is a good one, with plenty of running water and Ping An to go with it.

           

             

 

Posted in Tales from Sichuan's Yangtze Rivertown, Luzhou | 1 Comment

The New Year is Coming!

Posted on December 31, 2008 by connieinasia

 

            It’s hard to believe just a week ago, I was snugly situated in my pew along with hundreds of others at the Luzhou Church, all of us ready and waiting for a spectacular Christmas gala by our Chinese brothers and sisters in Christ.

            Now that New Year’s Eve is here, I’ll be having a different kind of experience. 

            Just a 2-minutes’ walk from our school gate is the only Buddhist temple in Luzhou.  It stands majestically on our high bluff overlooking the Yangtze River.

             On most days, the temple is empty with only the nuns and elderly women volunteers praying, sweeping the steps, changing offerings and making sure the candles are lit. The peacefulness of this place is calming and relaxing.  In fact, Little Flower and I have been known on bright, sunny days to sit within the temple courtyards, enjoy the warm sunshine and have some quiet time to ourselves.

            But come special religious days, the temple is over-run by visitors day and night.            Cars line the Yangtze River Road, beeping their horns and trying to get by one another.  Our school opens its front gate for public parking.  The guards hustle to collect the 5 yuan (75 cents) charge per a car for a 2-hour parking fee. 

            All along the way to the temple, tables are crammed with Buddhist paper money to burn for the deceased, incense sticks and giant red candles being sold.  It’s a bustling night for business, especially for snack sellers who sell their wares to the hungry crowds. Carmel corn, baked sweet potatoes, grilled squid and fish kabobs, and egg-batter pancakes are just a few of the food items up for grabs.   Fruit sellers also come away with a hefty profit.  Temple visitors buy huge bags of fruit to leave as offerings before Buddha and the many other deities that dot the temple’s small halls.

            Although a majority of Chinese profess no religious faith, visiting the temple for New Year’s is something fun to do.  It’s a family tradition that many like to continue with.  My Chinese friends say they don’t believe in such things but they still go.  Aging parents have drilled it into them that it never hurts to do such things, even if you don’t believe.  Respecting your ancestors is always a must.  And, as we say,  better safe than sorry.

            Thus Dog and I are planning a temple run for the countdown to midnight.  Our Yangtze river road is still closed so I expect there’ll be quite a pile-up of vehicles.  They can only come from one direction and will have to turn around at our school’s front gate in order to get back into town.  This should be a very interesting sight and I’m not about to miss it.

           

 

The English Departmental Family Dinner

 

            For several New Years at this school, I have been absent.  I would go off to Chengdu as our school had a day off until the end of term finals began before Chinese New Year, a few weeks later.  But this year, as I did for Christmas Day, I’m giving final conversation exams, even though January 1st and 2nd are national holidays.   Since I have 350 students to test individually for my oral conversation courses, my holidays for the past 2 weeks are just having to wait until the Chinese Spring Festival vacation starts, January 9.

            Aside from the New Year’s Eve temple visits, we used to have a special English Departmental dinner on Dec. 31.  Unlike other departmental meals, this one included family members, which was always a treat. 

            Yet this year, we held our celebrations earlier.

            Last Friday afternoon, I opened my home to the English department faculty who came by in two groups of 15 to enjoy my Christmas decorations and homemade goodies.

My home is quite small and since we have 35 on the English staff, it was decided that half would visit at a time while the other half continued with our weekly staff meetings.

            Everyone grabbed up their drinks and goodies, then proceeded into my small sitting room.  Photographs of family and friends, Christmas cards from Japan and Taiwan and holiday toys entertained my colleagues while I answered questions and showed off my hostessing skills. 

            It’s been a long time since I had my Luzhou teacher friends over so I made sure this would be a memorable one.

            At 5:30 p.m., we headed off together on the faculty school bus which dropped us off at a nearby restaurant.  Dean Horace had spent a great deal of time and energy arranging everything.  He not only  invited the English departmental staff and their families, but also the school leaders, their spouses and retired English teachers as well. We had 8 tables booked and over 70 guests attending.  Even former Dean Cathy (Li Xiaolian), my sister-friend who is now English departmental dean at the Police College,

was there as well. 

            The spirit was one of jovial informality with lots of jokes and hundreds of toasts given by individuals and groups to each table.  It was hard for us to get in a bite of food.  Every time we sat down to the meal, another person would appear at our elbow or table, lifting their glasses in gratitude and good wishes to our health, work and friendship. 

            Chinese banquets of this sort take a lot of getting used to by foreigners but I felt right at home toasting everyone just as many times as they toasted me.

 

            So here’s wishing you all a Happy New Year, 2009, from me and Little Flower.  May Ping An (peace) come your way today and every day.

           

 

           

              

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The Luzhou Christmas Eve Church Service: Pulling Out All The Stops

Posted on December 28, 2008 by connieinasia
 
 

            I love Christmas at our Luzhou Protestant Church.

            For 7 years in a row, I have attended our Christmas Eve services here but this Christmas had church members and leaders pulling out all the stops.

            With the newly remodeled sanctuary came a desire to put to good use the new sound system and  the other “must have” technological gadgets.  Stage lights line the rafters on all sides with the ability to be lowered or raised at the push of a button.   Another switch from the lighting board sends various chosen colors cascading over the congregation or the performers.  A fog machine sprays mist over the sanctuary’s raised platform, creating the illusion of heavenly clouds swirling about.  And a bubble machine can be used to fill the air with clusters of bubbles wafting high above our heads.  No longer do we use a screen for the power point images but instead, an empty wall space has been painted white specifically for that purpose.

            These additions were expected to bring a brighter and more joyful atmosphere to our usually dark and drafty sanctuary.  And bring about a more spirited evening it did! 

            In a majority of Chinese churches, every Christmas Eve and Christmas Day is a call for exuberant celebration.  Chinese New Year is one that fills the TVs with bright, colorful programs of elaborate traditional dance numbers, choirs, big pop stars doing their thing, comedy skits, and showy, flashy numbers that keep everyone glued to the set.  This custom of celebration has carried over into Chinese Christianity as well. 

            When we talk of Christmas Eve services in China, we are not  talking about our American tradition of a quiet atmosphere with solemn church readings, gentle songs of Jesus’ birth,  calming melodies being played by our most musical congregation members and a silent, contemplative feeling of religious holiness as we leave the service.   Instead, a Chinese Christmas Eve service is a potpourri of various jubilant performances, usually with the midnight ringing in of Christmas being a rather boisterous affair.   Congregation members are often not the only ones in attendance but many non-believers fill the pews as well, excited to watch a free show.  They cram into the church, standing room only, come and go as they please and talk a lot to one another.  

            This custom of talking during performances is nothing new in China.  It’s a hold-over from the days of traveling theatrical groups that went around to villages to entertain the poor.  Much like Shakespeare’s time, the audience was a rowdy bunch and took this time to gossip with one another, comment on the actors, do business or just chit-chat about whatever.

             In today’s China, we have the same sort of behavior from audience members who are not from more sophisticated, international circles, such as in  Shanghai or Beijing.  This is one reason why so many European and Western performers get annoyed and refuse to return to smaller areas of the country to give their concerts.  They consider the inattentive audience rude and ungrateful.  But for the average Chinese, a performance is a get-together with friends to have fun and enjoy each others’ company, not listen quietly to what’s going on in front of them.  

            Following this rule, you will get a picture of my Wednesday night at our Chinese Luzhou church. 

            I arrived early enough to get a good seat for our 7:30 p.m. start to our 3-hour program.  At our church, the services are divided into 2 parts:  Those for the public, who like the dances, songs and skits, and then the 11 p.m. to midnight, less active service which is more for those who are Christians.

            At 7 p.m., we were already filling up with just a few spaces left. Everyone was talking and excited about the upcoming event.   I was lucky enough to be in the second row, scrunched between those who were not Christians but attended the service every year for something to do.

             To keep us entertained, the loudspeakers were blaring in English the Christmas favorites “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and “Jingle Bells” while the power point showed images of Christmas trees, dancing Santas and Mickey and Minnie Mouse chasing one another on ice-skates. 

            Our well-scheduled program listed over 35 numbers.  The children’s Gospel Kindergarten, attached to the school, was doing 4 performances. Their teachers were  doing  sign-language to a Christian song. The adult and senior choirs, dressed in their spiffy new choir robes, were likewise singing.  Also on the list was a liturgical dance by the young adults, the teens doing a  modern-day dance to a new-age Christian song, a solo by our pastor’s friend (a well-known vocal teacher at a Chengdu college), testimonials from new believers, a short message from Pastor Liao’s husband (also in the clergy), a skit by the Luzhou Medical College’s Christian Nepalese and Indian students, the manger scene re-enactment, a Bible Quiz with T-shirts as prizes, and our long-standing church custom, the closing being a visit from a candy-throwing Santa Claus (always a favorite of the children).

            I was also listed as singing with Pastor Liao, “Away In A Manger”, in both English and Chinese. 

            This kind of program takes a lot of coordination, time and energy on the part of all the participants.  Anyone in the States putting together a church chili supper, children’s Christmas program, in-church caroling night, Christmas Eve service or hanging-of-the-greens evening for the sanctuary knows the amount of work that goes into such things.  Imagine putting everything together in one evening (including feeding out-of-towners and guests) and then repeating it the entire Christmas Day, along with baptisms of over 50 entering the Christian faith.  Pastors, active church members and leaders, choir members and music directors in China have little rest around this time of year.  And yet, everyone looked vibrant and fresh during their songs, dances, testimonials and sketches.  It was clear that Christ’s birth had great meaning to everyone who brought and shared their special gifts to the Lord on this holy night.  

            Granted, there were some rather greedy moments when control was somewhat lost.  We had two difficulties with non-church members, especially unruly little kids, who stormed the stage to get candy from Santa.   Later, we had the quiz T-shirt prizes snatched from the hands of those who had answered the questions correctly.  

            And, unfortunately, there was a total meltdown at the end of our lovely, calm second service when midnight approached.  Someone on the Christmas Eve service committee thought giving out Bibles would be a nice way to celebrate a midnight “Welcome, Baby Jesus!” moment.

            Midnight came with recorded church bells ringing. The choir members filed out onto the worship center, holding stacks of Bibles. And the crowd went wild, knocking over one another, shouting and grabbing for their precious free gifts. 

            I was among the Christmas battered as I happened to be in the first rows.

            Over 50 Bibles disappeared in a matter of seconds with the panicked choir members tossing them into the air and running for their lives.

            Was anyone appalled?  Was anyone hurt?

            Not at all.  This was just part of the fun of Christmas at church.  Everyone was laughing, helping those knocked to the floor to their feet, and congratulating their neighbors on their lucky snatch-and-grab. 

            All those who stayed for the entire night felt very satisfied with the events of the evening and no one wanted to leave.  Digital photo sessions with Santa in front of the outer-room Christmas trees were still going on when I left at 12:30.  I also managed a photo with Pastor Liao, although she was extremely busy.  My last image of Pastor that night was her seeing off guests, praying with church members and sending  good wishes to her staff and sound people as they departed for home. 

            After a long evening of celebration, I paused for a moment to think about what I was witnessing in Pastor Liao.  The role of a pastor never ceases, even after the final “Amen!” is spoken in the service.  Those who lead our Christian churches in this world always deserve a special place in our prayers, not only for Christmas but on a daily basis.  They are truly an inspiration and a strong witness of what Christianity is all about.

            And on that note, I wish you all “Ping An!” (Peace) from China for Christmas 2008.

                 

              

           

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A Chinese Christmas Caroling Memory

Posted on December 27, 2008 by connieinasia
 
            

           Before embarking on all the Christmas events plus photos of the week, I’d like to share with you an essay written several years ago about my Christmas caroling venture on our campus.  Although this year we didn’t have time for caroling due to the Hong Kong ETA’s visit, I thought those of you checking this site on a regular basis would enjoy it anyway. 

           Christmas Blessings, everyone, and an upcoming weekend Ping An (peace)!

 

Christmas Caroling in China
 

             In China, my college sophomores are a difficult lot.

            When they were freshmen, I was adored as their first American foreign language teacher.  Every English lesson and activity we did was joyfully embraced as new, exciting and wonderfully different.

            But as sophomores, everything becomes old hat.  They slump in their seats.  They doze on their desktops.  They play with their cell phones.  I especially struggle around Christmastime.  No matter how I tweak or change the lessons, our Christmas unit always loses something the second time around.

            Two years ago, I changed all of that.

            We needed a new experience.  Forget the tree decorating and party gift exchange.   This time would be campus Christmas caroling.

            I had always wanted to do Christmas caroling with my students at Luzhou Vocational and Technical College.  Each year, I taught the freshmen a variety of winter holiday songs.  “Jingle Bells,” “Silent Night” and “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” were among their favorites. Yet with my busy teaching schedule, a full evening of caroling was never at the top of my priority list.  The custom, too, is so alien in China.  Our musical trek across campus might be seen as an unwanted invasion rather than a welcoming holiday serenade.                   

            Despite my reservations,  I gathered together my sophomore classes to pitch the caroling proposal.  I detailed our possible outing together and waited for a response.

            A hand went up.

            “So. . . we miss evening study hours?” one student asked hopefully.

            “Right,” I affirmed.  “No evening study hours.”

            Unanimously, the Christmas caroling venture was approved.

            On the appointed evening, I scheduled a pre-caroling practice session one hour before we embarked on our campus parade.  Over 100 students crammed into the small lecture hall to await my instructions.   I went over the walking route on the blackboard.  I handed out candles and song sheets.  We practiced the carols we’d sing.  At my signal, we headed out into the chilly night air.

            Our first stop was the school cafeteria where the workers were cleaning up after dinner.  The students gathered around for our opening number, “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.”  Candles were lit.  Song sheets were held high. The opening note was given.

            Silence.

            Stage fright set in.

            “Come on, everyone!” I rallied.  “On the count of three!”

            The one-hundred plus sophomore choir weakly made it through several carols before the spirited Jingle Bells ignited a holiday spark.  I was thankful the group had at least mustered a perky finale.  Although the workers didn’t have a clue what we were singing about or why, they gave us an encouraging round of applause.   The students beamed.

            Moving onward, we alighted at the women’s dormitories.  This second stop incited a bit more confidence and enthusiasm, especially from the boys.  When the female students began lining the outer dorm balconies to listen, the young men put forth an impressive effort to win them over.  The male singers bobbed and swayed while gustily belting out our selected songs.  They were off-key and their English words were unrecognizable but no one seemed to care.  The girls’ laughter and waves only further boosted their masculine pride.  In a spontaneous moment, our sophomore fellows shouted a parting, “Women ai nimen (We love you)!”  Their adoring fans responded in kind.

            By the time we reached the male dorms, everyone was getting a true feeling for the caroling custom.  Here the women rose to the occasion when seven floors of good-looking gents crowded the building’s open-air areas.  The ladies’ vibrant, cheerful energy brought down the house.  Wild cheers and whistles followed after every carol.  Only “Silent Night” hushed the attentive audience.  The choir’s diverse voices finally unified.   Their gentle song drifted upward into the night sky and enfolded us all in a calming embrace.

            The next day, the buzz around campus was all about the surprise English language choir who sang to workers and students alike. Teachers and administrators even praised the activity as an innovative approach to learning English and bringing about cultural understanding.   But my sophomores had a different take on their evening of caroling.  Always before, the spirit of Christmas had been explained to them.  This time around, it had been felt and shared by them.  

            In China, December has arrived.  Last year’s freshmen now sit in my classroom as bored, disinterested sophomores.  They slump in their seats.  They doze on their desktops.  They play with their cell phones.  They’re expecting a Christmas unit much like the one they’ve had before.

            And I?  I am secretly smiling because I know they are in for an unforgettable surprise.

 

 

 

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