connie's space

            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 5^th and 4^th 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.

            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 1^st and 2^nd 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.

            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.

           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)!

             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.

            As mentioned previously, for 3 months our school has been preparing for the visit of eight Fulbright ETA (English Teaching Assistant) scholars and their Hong Kong supervisor, Peggy Tang,  who would be arriving at our college for a week to be put to work.  And put to work they were!

            The schedule was packed full:  visits to my classroom, two evening lectures, English corner time (clustered group free talk with over 200 students outside near our flagpole), a PE class with non-English majors, dorm visits and  teaching at a city elementary/junior high school and then a nearby gradeschool for migrant workers’ children.  In between these, we managed small outings into the city, church on Sunday morning for those who wished to come, a comfy coffee bar “down” time and many hanging out sessions in my decorated Christmas wonderland home to watch DVDs, do emailing and eat holiday goodies.

            I was very impressed by everyone’s professionalism and commitment to their visit, even though a majority did not graduate in the field of education.  Their 4-month time in Hong Kong teaching as assistants at the Hong Kong Institute of Education certainly showed as they were able to easily adapt to the level of  both mainland China college kids, much more unsophisticated than their HK brothers and sisters, and also to the little kids (darling little things, of course.)  And I was especially grateful that every one came with a purpose of learning from, not just imparting knowledge to, both students and faculty.  It was so refreshing to be surrounded by eager young people who portrayed our country as one of tolerance and understanding, not arrogance and “better-than-thou.”

            I know that sounds a bit strange but, believe me, I’ve dealt with many Americans who have come to China who have not been good role models for teaching or for our nation.  It’s embarrassing and saddening at the same time.  You can therefore imagine my joy, and relief, to have this particular group of Fulbright ETAs on the scene.

            Everyone loved them, everyone supported them and everyone wanted them to stay.  (That includes me and Little Flower as well!)

Info About The Fulbright ETA Program

            Just briefly, the Fulbright ETA program is one which sends graduates (often young graduates but not always) from various fields to a variety of countries to teach as teaching assistants.   Those applying for the scholarship have numerous countries to choose from.  Mainland China is not an option as it is not yet on the teaching list but Hong Kong is.  

            This year’s ETAs are 16 who teach at the Hong Kong Institute of Education for one year.  To experience the mainland educational system, however, Amity was contacted as a possible partnership organization to hook up with a college within China. My school and I were asked to host eight ETAs while another college with Amity teachers in Gansu Province was likewise asked to host the other eight. 

            Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime for small schools.  No foreigner wants to teach at an out-of-the-way college so having 8 on the campus for a week is truly special. 

            Our Luzhou Vocational and Technical College gleefully jumped at this chance and the outcome was tremendously successful.

Preparations Before Arrival

            Over the past 2 months, Amity, the Hong Kong Institute of Education,  myself and our college have been in continuous contact about the ETAs arrival.  The English language department heads, our school’s foreign affairs office, and myself discussed the schedule contents, safety concerns, eating arrangements, housing needs and so forth.  It was a great deal of work but because everyone did their part in good time, and we had enough time to get everything done, when our visitors arrived, the entire week went smoothly.

A Few Glitches

            We only had a couple of glitches, such as when the school learned the guesthouse dorms had no duel air-con/heating units.  The ones currently in the rooms they’d be staying in were only for air conditioning.  Our temperatures were dipping into the 40s at night so the school quickly bought little rotating electric heating floor fans that certainly made a big difference in the rooms comfort.

            Another problem came when the last 2 days, one room experienced backed-up sewage.  Those staying in the room moved in with others until the plumbers could come and deal with the situation.  Not exactly a disaster but a nasty inconvenience which is not at all unusual in China. (Sewage problems are always a constant pain here, as you know from previous entries concerning my own toilet.)

          The third snaffu had to do with the powerpoint used during the evening lectures.  The overhead bulb kept turning off due to a poor cooling fan, thus leaving the group to do without.  It was somewhat annoying but being good at last-minute changes, the 8 carried through magnificently with little interruption to their topics, Regions of the US on Tuesday night and Vocabulary Building Techniques on Thursday night.

Final Notes

            At 6:30 a.m. this morning, our group piled onto the school’s tiny mini-bus to hea off to the long-distance bus station.  Most were returning to Hong Kong via the Chongqing airport (5 hours from here) while two were heading off to visit friends in Chengdu (3 ½ hours away). 

            Little Flower and I were there to send them off, wishing them safe travels and happy holidays. 

            Rather than continue talking about the visit, I’ll let the photos tell the rest.  Listed below find the names of our ETA visitors, their schools and  their fields of study.

            Laurie Knies, University of Richmond, BA History

            Shari Meggs, Northern Illinois University, BA Communication

            Leah Prestamo, Adelphi University, BA English and Philosophy

            Winnie Tang, University of Pennsylvania, MS Ed TESOL

            Stephanie Tow, Johns Hopkins University, BA Neuroscience

            Gabriella Van Schoyk, Covenant College, BA Community Development

             Bryan Winzer, University of Arkansas, MEd Higher Education Leadership

            Daniel Yao , Yale University , BA Literature

            Supervisor:  Peggy Tang, HK Institute of Education

Ping An (Peace), everyone, and don’t forget to check out the ETA photo albums below!

My Christmas stockings have followed me around the world.  No matter what teaching position I have held overseas, my mother always mails mine early enough so that I’m able to adhere to our family’s Christmas day tradition of opening stockings before breakfast.  

I consider the opening of my overseas’ Christmas stocking a sacred holiday tradition.  Never would I open my stocking before Christmas, and never would I do so in the presence of others.  But I have learned that breaking a tradition can sometimes be more meaningful than keeping one

            My first overseas’ teaching position was at the YWCA in Kyoto, Japan.   Aside from teaching English classes, I assisted the staff with various YWCA programs, including all the holiday events crowded into December. Yet it was the ladies’ Christmas luncheon  which would require the most preparation on my part.  I had been invited to be the guest speaker and introduce American Christmas customs to the guests.  This was quite a task, considering most of the women attending were not Christians nor familiar with even the most common Yuletide traditions of my country.   With this thought in mind, I began planning how best to give the ladies an understanding of Christmas in a mere 20-minute presentation. 

            A few days before the luncheon, my first overseas’ Christmas stocking from my mother made a timely arrival.  It was beautifully made from old quilt pieces sewn together by a local seamstress she had commissioned just for this occasion.  The goodies inside threatened to burst the seams and I anticipated the coming of Christmas morning when I could finally be able to see what wonderful things my mother had stuffed inside.

             It logically followed that my Christmas stocking make an appearance in the YWCA program.  Seeing such a traditional American holiday item was bound to impress the Japanese ladies, and having a genuine one to show would make my presentation all the more memorable.   

            On the day of the luncheon, over 100 YWCA members filled the small hall.  After a light meal, I was introduced to begin the program.  One by one, I brought out various Christmas items to show the women seated around me.  When I sensed everyone was at an emotional high, I dramatically pulled out my overseas’ Christmas stocking.  

            The reaction was just as I had hoped.  Delighted exclamations filled the room.  Everyone was taken by the beauty and uniqueness of the Christmas stocking my mother had sent from America.  But what fascinated them the most was my explanation of stuffing the stocking and then opening it on Christmas morning.  

When my program ended, I thanked the ladies for their invitation, wished them a Merry Christmas and sat down.  A strange silence followed.  No one clapped.  No one spoke. No one moved.  People were obviously waiting for something, but what?

            Kawabata-san, the YWCA director, quickly approached the platform.

 “Connie did a wonderful program for us today,” she announced.  “I think we all learned many things, but maybe now she will show us what is in the Christmas sock?”

Kawabata-san smiled.  The ladies brightened.  I panicked. 

My reluctance signaled one of the Americans in the group to come to my rescue.  She proposed I leave the room, allow her to open my stocking for everyone to see and then give her time to repack it again before I returned. 

It was a brilliant solution. 

Kawabata-san escorted me outside of the room where I stood by the door, awaiting permission to rejoin the group.  Inside, I heard comments in Japanese arise as my stocking’s contents were revealed. 

“How cute!” 

“How delicious!”

“What a good mother!”   

            When I re-entered the hall, I was relieved to see my stocking was exactly as I had left it, but I noticed a change in the ladies now facing me.  They realized that the Christmas stocking itself was not the remarkable thing they had at first imagined.  All those knick-knacks crammed inside did not warrant much fuss or attention.  It was the love that went into the preparation of the stocking that made the tradition so meaningful, and it was this understanding which had been passed on to them that day.

My overseas’ Christmas stocking has never since made another public appearance, but if my students here in China were to ask me to share with them its contents, I would do so without hesitation.  My Christmas traditions are very important to me, but some traditions, I have found, can be just as meaningful being broken as being kept.

————–

        This year’s  stocking just arrived in the mail today, stuffed with goodies all waiting to be opened one week from tomorrow on Christmas morning.  As always, I’m a good little girl who will never dig into her presents until "the" day.  Until then, my pretty sparkly green stocking awaits under the Christmas tree for me to ponder and wonder upon until December 25th.   I’m sure my mother has done it justice, filling it with all sorts of fun little items which she knows I’ll enjoy.

        For this year, I hope your stockings are filled with just as much love and meaning as mine will be.   

        Until next time, "Ping an!" (peace), everyone, with just a week until Christ’s birth comes to us once again.

Christmas In China

            A last-minute weekend in Chengdu brought Little Flower and myself back to Luzhou with a suitcase full of new Christmas decorations and baking items. 

            To be honest, the last thing in the world I need is more Christmas stuff.  Years of overseas’ living has led to me collecting holiday items to display which I feel I must have. 

            When I first began teaching English in China 17 years ago, visual signs of  Christmas were rarely seen.  Christmas was hardly spoken of, much less understood.  I brought all my decorations with me, including lights, wall hangings, my crèche, and even a small boxed Christmas tree with ornaments.  I made a grand showing in my two-room guesthouse accommodations on the campus of Nanchang Normal University with a dazzling window of lights and decorations that had the students clustered outside every evening, enamored by its beauty.

            Christmas in China back then was definitely one of mysterious curiosity and awe.

            But now, commercialism has invaded cities and towns all across the country.  Christmas  glitz has overtaken not only the capital city, Chengdu, but our little Luzhou’s downtown district as well. Live Santa’s greet pedestrians at our department store entrances.  Internationally popular Christmas carols, in both English and Chinese, blare over loudspeakers.  “Merry Christmas!”  banners hang in every shop window, and sales clerks, looking chique and trendy in their Santa hats, greet shoppers flocking to Christmas sales. 

            Oddly enough, the majority of  Chinese have no understanding of the religious significance of the day, nor do they comprehend the meaning of the season for those of us who truly celebrate it.  To the Chinese, the draw is the popularity of purchasing “foreign” items, being posh enough to celebrate an international holiday, and (for shop owners) to cash in on a commercial goldmine among China’s middle to upper class consumers.

            Only those of us who attend the Chinese church and are Christians truly have an understanding of the significance of this day.  And because of this, it is our job to impart this same understanding to others. 

            At the Luzhou church, the Christmas Eve performance party, prayer services and Christmas day activities help the public grasp the religious meaning of Jesus’ birth.  All are invited to attend.  The church is always packed with non-believers who stop by to get a better idea about what Christians are so excited about every year come December 25^th.

Christmas In The Classroom:  The Religious Meaning

            In my classroom, another kind of enlightenment is passed on to my own students during our Christmas lessons, which I have been doing for 20 years in an overseas’ setting.  

            My holiday unit is comprised of two parts:  Christmas: The Religious Meaning, and Christmas: Customs and Traditions. 

            Last week, we spent our time with the religious story from the Bible.  We go over the story outline on the board, including pertinent vocabulary words and important characters.  Visual aids are a must, which include hundreds of Christmas cards that depict scenes of the birth. 

            Students pour over these cards in awe and delight as they are impossible to find in China.  Sure, there are plenty of holiday cards to be bought in country but these are the commercialized variety with snowmen, Santa Clauses, reindeer, sleighs and Christmas trees.  Religion plays no part in card-purchasing here in mainland China so there are few, if any, religious cards to be found.   

            When our American Christian variety finally finds its way into their hands, after we’ve gone over the story so they know what they are looking at, the beauty of Christmas cards takes on a whole new meaning.

             I watch these young people pour over the cards’ pictures, eagerly passing them from one person to another.  They point out the angels, the stable, Mary, Jesus, Joseph, the shepherds, and the three wisemen.  They go over their new words, practicing out loud the pronunciation of Bethlehem, manger, frankincense and myrrh.  Some quietly gaze at the scenes, soaking it all in and envisioning the story which has just been related to them.

            My hope is that they will one day pass on this understanding to their own students, maybe even to their families during the Chinese New Year after they return home for the holidays.  They might meet those who are Christians in their community and be able to share with them what their foreign teacher taught them about this special Christian day. They might even pass by a church, remember our lesson together and go in to find out more about Christianity and these people who call themselves Christians.

            We’ve even had lessons where we re-enact the Christmas story, complete with props and make-shift costumes pulled out from my clothes’ stash.  A bathrobe becomes Joseph’s garb.  Tinsel acts as the angels’ halos.  A lace tablecloth, tied back with a ribbon, graces Mary’s head.  A stuffed animal wrapped in a towel becomes Jesus.  Narrators don Christmas vests and innkeepers hold high lighted lanterns.  Our three wisemen regally carry their gifts (a tin box, a vase, a bottle of perfume) to lay before the baby. 

            If you were to ever pass by our classroom at Christmastime, you’d certainly be in for a treat and a firm grounding in why Christians celebrate this day.

Christmas In The Classroom:   Customs and Traditions

            This week, we are fully diving into customs and traditions.  Christmas symbols fill the students’ hand-out:  Christmas tree, reindeer, Santa Claus, candy cane, Christmas wreath, Christmas stocking, poinsettia, and the list goes on.  A bag full of the items themselves only further adds to the excitement of the classroom.  During the break, these are snatched up with great enthusiasm and become immediate photo opportunities for those with cell phone cameras.    

            When I’m finally satisfied that we’ve gotten down both parts of the unit, it’s time to play Christmas bingo.  I created this game 10 years ago, making up 30 different bingo cards with pictured symbols of our unit, both the religious and the non-religious vocabulary we had learned.

            For the first game, I draw the pictures one by one from an envelope and call out the symbols. Students, working in pairs, cover the symbol’s picture called with a bit of paper.  Four covered symbols in a row send students jumping to their feet, shouting, “Merry Christmas!”  After checking the answers, the winning couple race to the front to receive their candy prize and take my place, now becoming the new teachers to begin a new game.

            The bingo game is a new concept for the Chinese, making it even more intriguing and fun.  It usually takes a few games for students to finally figure out the faster you call out the symbols, the faster someone will win, the faster you’ll get your candy and the faster another game can begin to start the process all over again. 

            Shouts of “Louder! Louder!”, “Say again!” and “Quickly! Quickly!” fill the room. Players repeat the words after the leaders say them. Partners correct one another when they wrongly pronounce words.   Shy students become more confident as they are suddenly placed in the role of being the teacher, not the pupil, and must lead the game by themselves. 

            The “Merry Christmas!” bingo game is always more than just a game.  For a teacher, it’s an invaluable tool that combines teaching methodology, language learning and confidence building all in one. And for the Christmas season, it’s a bearer of Christmas cheer and the festive spirit of the holidays.

            What better way to end our unit!

Young Fulbright Scholars About To Arrive

            If I’d had time, I would have included our usual Christmas carol singing and tree decorating but this year, I am about to receive 8 American visitors, Fulbright scholars who will be arriving at our school tomorrow.  These are recent graduates from the university who are studying the Chinese educational system as Fulbright award recipients, but they are based in Hong Kong. 

            Hong Kong is a far cry from the mainland, so to experience the “real” China, they are coming here to our small school.  The Amity Foundation recommended to the Hong Kong Institute of Education that these bright young people visit Luzhou because of my knowledge and involvement in the school over the past 5 years.  The English Department, foreign affairs department, school administrators and I have been working very hard during the past 3 months to arrange their schedule, packed with activities and events.   

            We are so fortunate that they’ll be living on our campus, in the guesthouse, for an entire week. They’ll be teaching with me in the classroom, giving lectures in the evenings, eating with the students, visiting dorm rooms and spending as much contact time with our young people as possible.  My students are so excited they can hardly contain themselves. 

            I’m guessing a lot of that energy thrown into the Christmas bingo game this week had a lot to do with the fact that so many American visitors were soon to arrive.  We have never had so many overseas’ guests on our campus before.  This should be a treat for everyone, including Little Flower.  She loves visitors, especially because she knows she can beg a few candies off of them when they visit.

            They’re arrival late tomorrow evening will be the start of a very busy week. Although it will be awhile until you next hear from me, be assured I’ll have lots of stories and pictures to share after they depart.

            From Luzhou, here’s wishing you “Ping An!” (peace) for your day and Merry Christmas!

Arriving in Chengdu

            When LF and I arrived in Chengdu late last Tuesday night, I was tired. 
            The week before had been scurrying about to add another 6-hours of teaching to my schedule to make up for classes I’d be missing for the Jinding Award ceremony the following week.  Saturday was a full day with the city-wide speech contest, hosted by my school, with me judging the senior school students in the afternoon.   Sunday was church as usual with an afternoon spent with Li Xiao Lian (Cathy), my former departmental dean.  (Her son, Jack, is the one who is now attending  Beijing Aeronautical University.  I had written about his celebration party in a previous blog entry).              
            Cathy and I consider ourselves as sisters.  Her help in the Jinding Award department was to accompany me to a hair stylist for a good cut and then later to choose the appropriate wardrobe for the ceremony.   The hair went well but we had a bit of trouble with the sweater we both agreed I should wear.  There was a tear in the seam so we had to find someone to repair it.   Seamstresses are all over Luzhou, along every little alleyway, but the ones near my college were not in the mood to deal with us.  I ended up repairing it myself.
            Monday the entire day, and a booked-solid Tuesday morning, had me teaching my infamous Thanksgiving Day lessons.  First period is the history and second period is setting the holiday table.  The lesson goes at a fast clip with lots of activities and a bag full of props.  By the time dog and I were packed on the 3 p.m. bus to Chengdu, I was exhausted.
            Nor was it any fun to arrive in Chengdu in the evening, when taxies at the Wu Gui Qiao bus station refuse to take passengers unless they are traveling far distances.  My hotel wasn’t considered far enough for their interest so for 30 minutes, I was snottily waved away with a quick hand dismissal whenever I tried to get the two of us into a cab.
           Eventually, I sweet-talked a female driver into taking us, two "girls" from out-of-town who were cold, hungry and tired yet the men drivers refused to help us. 
           That "men drivers" reference pretty much won her over.   Off we went and were settled into our cheap little $14-a-night hotel by 8:30 p.m.

The Thursday Schedule 
          
            The schedule for the award activities was to have the foriegners check into the JinJiang Hotel (the first and oldest 5-star hotel in Sichuan Province) on Wed. at any time.  We would be given a schedule for Thursday’s plans after that and meet up on Thursday morning for an outing.   Our Chinese colleagues and representatives were not invited on any of these things, including hotel accommodations, and were merely to show up for the Thursday 5:00 ceremony to be audience participants. 
            From Luzhou, Catherine, from the foreign affairs office, and Ms. Deng, one of our three vice-presidents, would be coming but not until Thursday afternoon.  As always, they were extremely busy and couldn’t spare extra days to "play around" like I could.  
            As it turned out, I ended up staying with LF in my cheap hotel and shuttling back and forth from the JinJiang, which was only 15 minutes’ away by taxi.  I originally had asked Catherine to tell the Jinding committee organizers it was not necessary to book a hotel room for me for 2 nights, hoping that they could save some money ($125 a night), but they were keen to show their appreciation with a room so I let it go. 

Our Outing to Sanxingdui

            Thursday morning had us award winners all meeting in the lobby at 9 a.m. to visit Sanxingdui museum. 

            Sanxingdui is an ancient archeological site over 4,000 years old with very amazing finds that have been discovered nowhere else in China.  Those who lived in this area so long ago were master craftsmen for their time period, creating masks, bronze statuettes, stone statues and jade ringlets using tools which no one has yet found.  How they could create such smoothly and accurately carved objects is a mystery.  Also a mystery is what some of the artifacts were to be for, such as giant stone masks with protruding eyes (perhaps a god?), flat stone and jade disks, and odd-looking pipe trees whose branches are tipped by hollow metal birds. 
             I’d heard about this museum but had never been.  Although it’s only 1 hour outside of the city on the expressway, I never did manage to get myself in that direction all the years I’ve been in Sichuan.   The fact that now it was completely arranged for me, and I’d be traveling along with the selected group of other award winners, had me quite excited.  I was certainly up for meeting these other awardees, learning their names and their fields of expertise so I could further understand the difficulties Sichuan faces and how they’ve helped.
            I must say, the time we spent together in the van ride over to the museum, at the museum, talking over lunch and the return to Chengdu didn’t disappoint.  Our total 6 hours together ended up being the only time we truly had to get to know one another.  After that, we were whisked about here and there by leaders, to the ceremony, to dinner and then taking off afterwards.  Some were returning back to their countries that evening while others were visiting good friends or stopping by their Chinese partnership offices the next day to follow-up on their joint venture projects.

 Meet Our Fascinating Award Group

            It seems that of all the 11 awardees, only two of us (Gianluca from Italy and myself) actually were based in the province.  The others came and went from China during the year, some spending a few days, a week, a month or two at a time.  We had newbies to China, who’d only been working on China projects for 2 to three years, and  veterans, who’d had continuous contact since 1982.   I was somewhere in the middle, having first arrived here as a teacher in 1991.

            The opportunity to tell you about all these wonderful individuals I spent the day with is just too good to pass up.  There were only two I didn’t meet. One was Henry Clee from the US who was not able to come and Peter Tseng (Chinese-American) who flew in from Taiwan later on in the afternoon.   But for the others, here goes . . . .

            Ravi first began in China in 1986.  He was originally from India  but has been living  in Mexico for 25 years.  His field of expertise is in agriculture with wheat production and also crops that produce oil, such as  rapeseed.  China is the largest wheat producer in the world.  Ravi spends time working with the Sichuan Agricultural Department for better wheat production for its people.

            A similar role is played by Volker, a German biologist who likewise works in a similar fashion as Ravi.  Volker was an interesting fellow as he has been to and from China for many years.  His knowledge of Sichuan far surpassed any of us.  Volker had been to the Woolong Panda Reserve 10 times and was full of panda facts.  He was extremely interested in Sichuan’s traditional art world, such as Sichuan opera, mask changing (masks are changed by the actors at incredible speeds, almost like magic) and tea ceremonies.  His love of cats was obvious as he gave us plenty of cat stories from home about his 2 feline companions, 16 and 17 years old.

            Other “old” timers to China included Moris, a plastic surgeon from Israel.  Moris has played a key role in reconstructive surgery for breast cancer patients in the province.  These kinds of procedures are usually not thought of by women in China nor do doctors have the expertise to help them.  Moris has carefully worked side-by-side with top Chengdu surgeons to help teach the latest possibilities for women who have had masectomies.  What he is most famous for among officials, however, is his active and continuous help during the Sichuan earthquake.  He’s been flying back and forth since May, consulting with doctors and performing surgeries on disfigured earthquake survivors.  In fact, Moris was the one asked to give the award address on behalf of all of us as recipients.

            Our two other medical professionals were Phil Craig (Britain) and Gary Morsch (USA). 

            Phil had the most fascinating stories as he works in parasite control.  Weeks and months at a time, he and his team live in tents or small shelters among the Tibetan people in the far northern areas of Sichuan.  Parasites passed from animals to humans are the most troublesome, and deadliest, problems faced by those living on the harsh plains.  Poor hygiene due to lack of water for washing, cold (no heat so no one baths or washes much in the winter) and just cultural sanitation differences create an environment where worms and other nasty bugs invade the human system.  Phil explained that dogs and cattle especially carry these.  The worm eggs live in the feces and can withstand frigid temperatures plus survive for a long period of time.  They are easily passed by touching contaminated animal fur, then touching the face where the eggs enter through the nostrils.  Such worms are difficult to kill.  Other nasty critters attach to the liver, where there is no cure other than operating.  Due to poor hospital facilities in these remote areas (meaning you usually die on the operation table), and also a lack of money to pay for these expensive surgical procedures, most Tibetans don’t bother with treatment.  In other words, they die painfully after a long (or short) period of time.

            Phil and his team work with Tibetan farmers on how to control these parasites and what to do when you get them.

            Dr. Gary Morsch might be a name some of you have heard of.  He has written numerous books, including the New York Times best seller, The Power of Serving Others.   He is likewise founder and president of Heart to Heart International, a well-recognized and respected relief organization.  He has played an active role in Sichuan Province’s many areas of medicine, including sanitation.  Of course, the Sichuan earthquake had him here on consistant visits (and he still is) coordinating relief efforts for those still suffering with the quake’s aftermath.   

            Heinz, from Switzerland, works on and designs generators.  His newest ventures include those electrical plants heavily damaged or destroyed by the May earthquake.  One interesting thing about Heinz is that he was actually familiar with my website. His wife had googled “Jinding Award” before he left for China a few days before and there I was. 

            “Oh!” he said when I first introduced myself.  “You’re the young woman with the website!”

            Naturally, we had to take a picture together right away to post on my blog for his wife. (Yes, the picture’s included in the album below.)

            Dirk, from Holland, was the only one accompanied by his spouse.  Like a few others, he had traveled specifically to China to receive the award but planned to visit friends in the province afterwards.  Dirk’s area of expertise is in animal husbandry.

            Lastly, Gianluca, from Italy, was the baby in the group.  He’d only been in China for 2 years.  He is a designer of tool machinery used on assembly lines for vehicles.   As I mentioned before, Gianluca and I are the only ones actually living in country.  He works in the small provincial town of Zigong, just an hour from Luzhou, which is famous for three things:  a world-renowned dinosaur museum (fantastic!), salt (30% of the world’s salt comes from Zigong) and the Chinese paper lantern, which is said to have originated in Zigong.  Although people such as myself really enjoy small-town living, Gianluca said life was a bit boring in his place.  This is one reason why he has a private car, giving him freedom to drive to and from the capital city at any time or to other scenic areas.  He had considered having his wife and child (9) here but it was just too difficult to arrange. 

The Jinding Award Ceremony

            The ceremony itself was a very dignified, lovely affair with our Vice-Governor, Wei Hong, presiding along with a number of other provincial leaders.  As is customary, the leaders sat at a long table on the stage, overlooking the audience.  We awardees were at front-row tables with audience members behind us.  Those attending were local city and provincial government officials.  In my case, I  had representatives from my college unlike a few others who were pretty much on their own.

            Speeches were given with translators, of course, and we marched up one by one to receive both a certificate and a very prestigious-looking lacquered wooden box which held the Jinding gold medal inside.   It was a great honor to stroll across the stage when my name was called and shake the hand of our vice-governor. 

            I must say, however, that I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as our award acceptance music filled the hall.  "The Magnificent Seven" movie theme song is always a favorite to be played at award ceremonies in China.  I have no idea why, nor do Chinese even know it’s a movie theme. I guess they think it’s a plucky, rousing melody that goes well with award ceremonies.  

          Anyway, there was a moment, as that infamous Western melody bounced along and I headed across stage, when I felt a horse trot coming on.  It’s a good thing I controlled my enthusiastic feet as I’m sure such a strange gait would have been totally lost on the Chinese, not to mention gotten me some very strange stares and whispers.

            A banquet afterwards whisked the awardees and officials to the 9^th floor, overlooking the city, where we were given a bizarre fare of "blended" Asian-Western dishes.  This was probably the only part of the day that was somewhat a bust.  Not only did most of us pick through the odd concoctions before us but our Chinese hosts left their plates untouched as well.  It was such a shame, too, because I’m sure this “special” meal was a pricey one.  We would all have done far better if the chef had stuck with what he knows best to do:  100% Chinese cuisine.

Afterthoughts

            Now back in Luzhou, Dog and I are settling into our usual routines.  We’re now awaiting the arrival of 8 Fulbright scholars to our school who’ll be here for a week as my teaching assistants. (More on that later). 

             The Jinding Award day has passed and seems far away, but the thoughts of the wonderful people I met are very clearly pictured in my mind.  After often meeting rude foreign tourists and “ugly” Americans who have little tolerance for China or the Chinese people, it was such a great privilege to be among those like myself who truly love “our” China.  Our conversations centered not on cultural annoyances and personal complaints, but on our work here, our great respect for colleagues, our admiration for the government leaders, and our excitement and joy of being a part in helping others.

             This was a very special group of people, all who truly deserved to be honored for their time and energy spent here in Sichuan with the Sichuan people.  How very blessed I feel to have been included in their numbers.

            From Luzhou, wishing you as always “Ping An!” for your day.