The First Semester is OVER!

Yesterday I listened to 63 oral finals, calculated grades and had got authorization from my team leader.  (Excel and I have a love/hate relationship going on.)  This morning I entered the grades into the computer, and this afternoon I signed the final copies in the secretary's office.  FREEDOM!!!

I had a chance for an hour-long post-lunch nap, and I took it.  Every time I sleep, I dream.  In today's episode, I was inside an excel spreadsheet and each cell was bordered with eight feet of beige curtains like the ones in my bedroom.  Two Nazgûl were each confined in a cell, and I had to quickly cut, copy, and paste them into the appropriate row so I could capture all 12 before they could realize what was happening and chop me down with their giant black swords.  


Grading is stressful.


Clearly my subconscious is telling me it's time to go see 'The Hobbit.'  I'm so excited to finally get some free time!  I'm going to be changing up a few things on my blog.  There should be updates fairly soon!

Following a Typhoon

The term is almost over, and I'm looking at a 6-7 week break - with tons to do!  Some friends and I decided to go to Thailand for a little over a week, join some friends doing mission work, and see the Indian Ocean and elephants!

Even MORE exciting is the decision to go to the Philippines.  On December 4, Typhoon Bopha swept through the south eastern Philippines, swallowing hundreds of people without leaving a trace and destroying the homes of over 400,000 people.  A small group of teachers and exchange students at our university are from the Philippines, including our building manager who grew up a few hours away from the worst of the destruction.  300 fishermen from her city sailed out the morning of the 4th, and no one has seen or heard anything of them since then.

You know, vacations are great, but I would much rather do something useful and impactful with my time and energy.  My parents taught and modeled that times of crisis are times of action.  Relief work has always been really important to me, but I haven't been able to respond much during college.  I'm currently unencumbered by school or work, and I can literally just pick myself up and go help!  A few of my friends and I are going to General Santos toward the end of January and stay in a "cottage" (it's on stilts!) and join a local church's feeding ministry.  We're going to do whatever needs doing - feeding, cooking, cleaning, building, clearing demolished buildings. (For my nurse-moms: yes, I'll track down a tetanus shot and mosquito nets!)  I can't even describe how excited I am to be able to go do this!!

Besides the relief work, there are many reasons I'm excited to go to the Philippines - the music, the sea shells (I've been a collector for years - it's a deal), the countryside, and the proximity to Papua New Guinea.  My great-grandparents met there while they were doing mission work, and I've always wanted to go.  I don't think that will happen this trip, but there's a good chance I'll be able to spend time with people who are currently involved in missions there.

I'm headed down with three awesome believers who are ready and willing for anything to happen.  Please pray that we can find cheap flights (my task in the next few days).  We anticipate that our needs will be small, but funds are limited, and we're headed into an area full of astronomical need.  Please pray that we can truly aid and encourage the victims of this awful storm, that we adjust our lives and plans to love them in the way they need us to, and that God's glory shines in spite of our limits!

The Prayer of the Children

I would like to dedicate this to the people 

of Portland, Connecticut, and Xinyang,

especially to the children.

Facing Gunfire at Christmas

I've been on a writing hiatus for quite a while now due to finals, rehearsals, food poisoning, and late-night Chinese classes.  I have so many wonderful things to talk about - a trip to the grottoes in Luoyang, sharing Jesus with students, teaching about the meaning of Christmas, and the many adventures I'm having with students and fellow teachers.

But unfortunately, what's causing me to break my writing-silence are the shootings in Portland and Connecticut.  For the last two weeks I've been telling my students about the celebration of peace and joy that is Christmas - the feeling in the air, the suspense of children, and the kindness of strangers.  Then I read about the shooting at Clackamas Town Center, MY mall, the place where I go for everything - work, studying for school, hanging out with friends, preparing for life, food.  It's one of my comfort zones.  Also, it's really close to my house and my high school.  When I heard, I immediately began shuffling through the list of everyone I know who works there, including all my coworkers at WHBM, my personal shoppers, and my favorite baristas, not to mention the people I know who shop there.  At CHRISTMAS TIME.

Then there was the shooting in Connecticut.  I don't even know how to comment on that.  How can you make sense of the shooting of children?  There's no sense to be had.  Just awful, awful pain.

And yet - unless we personally know the victims, our cycle of grief is removed a step, and we [referring to all American residents and citizens with the collective 'we'] leap from shock to anger in a single bound.  Anger is easier than grief.  We then try to use these horrific tragedies as a platform to enact political change.  But, as with anything political, we can hardly utter an idea without another person feeling nobly inclined to rip our throats out.  So what do we get?  Devastating murders and citizens who respond with contention and slashing words.

Gun control.  The first response is always gun control.  Here's my thought: if a person is a cutter, and you take away the knife, obviously they can no longer cut their body -- but they still carry self-destruction in their hearts.  This is a one-dimensional result.  If we want to protect our citizens, why don't we immediately think of increasing services for those who hurt and increasing security for those who are healthy?  Probably because it's more expensive and feels less productive than passing a law.  Every time we pass a law, we set a precedent.  Currently, I presume that my government wants to protect me.  If armed police invade my house, I know they're on my side.  History shows us that this isn't always the case.  Please, please remember your global history lessons: what happens when the government has all the firepower and the people are defenseless?  Simple answer: bad stuff.  The hurried changes in law made in response to pain can lay the ground work for future governmental action that no one wants.

In another forum, a complete stranger made a cutting comment, asking how I 'attended the needs' of other people.  I think this is a good thing for all people to think about.  In the past 10 years, I've been a photographer, a barista, a singer, a cook, a student, a teacher, and I've sold a whole lot of clothes.  I have witnessed the happiness, pain, confusion, disillusionment, surprise, and tears of other people in every one of those jobs.  (Okay, I've never seen a cook cry, but that's the only exception.)  Distant husbands, fear for children, the ache of loneliness and being left behind, the quiet dullness of being unnoticed, and the even quieter panic of feeling alone in your fear - you see it at different levels every day of your life if you look at people's faces.  Look at people!  Empathize! Use your face to communicate that you see them.  Speak more kindly.  A genuine 'How are you?' will prompt a true response.  If you aren't getting a real response, you need to learn how to really ask.  Then when they tell you, listen to what they say!

All of the sudden, that person isn't invisible anymore. They aren't on their own.  They can square their shoulders and face another day. This is how we 'attend the needs' of others.

As I've shared the Christmas story these past two weeks, I've said repeatedly that Jesus was born poor because God was showing that he wanted ALL the people, from the uneducated local shepherds to the highly educated powerful kings from distant lands.  This Christmas we have a unique opportunity to grieve with our country in the light of these terrible shootings.  As representative of Christ, our job isn't to tell people, 'It's okay, God can fix it.'  Is that true? Of course!  But if our only response to grief is knowledge-based, or anger-based, then people don't see God's heart of empathy for people.

The willingness to see one another, and in this time, to grieve with one another - friends and strangers alike - shows that Christ is alive in us.  God is not absent just because evil is present.  I encourage everyone (including myself now) to step away from political discussion for at least a week following these events. Be especially encouraging and thoughtful of those who have a lot of vocational human interaction: teachers, pastors, baristas (the pastors of non-church-goers), and waiters.  Let's use the light of gunfire to see the lives of people around us.  Go attend to people.

Giving Thanks on Thanksgiving

I've been told (repeatedly) that being an expatriate* during the holidays can be difficult, sad, and lonely.  Luckily for me, I shaped this week's lesson around the Thanksgiving holiday.  I told the story of the pilgrims and the Mayflower, the starvation of the first winter, the extension of the Native Americans, and the joy of harvest. 

[Yes, I skipped the part about wars, massacres, and smallpox-ridden blankets.  I thought that would be confusing...]

All week, I've been emphasizing the importance of thankfulness, of recognizing what we're grateful for and sharing it with others.  According to teacher-training (thank you MAT) I explained the concept, modeled the concept, and then the students talked about it.  Then the students shared what they were thankful for.  Toward the end of class, all my students wrote down what they were thankful for about each other.  Of course some classes liked it more than others, but ALL my students eagerly grabbed their papers.  It was a little bit torturous to look at pictures of turkey, cornbread stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pie pie pie right before lunch, but so fun to explain MY traditional foods to my students!

Every Thanksgiving, we sit around the food, silently salivating (hey, that's an alliteration!), while mom makes us all say what we're thankful for.  Sometimes we have specific things we're thankful for and we're excited to say, and sometimes it feels painfully awkward as we say, "I'm thankful for my family and friends."  Of course, it's always true - it just feels a little strange to say as they're sitting right there looking at you.

This Thanksgiving, I'm away from home, but I’m filled with sincere and specific thankfulness.  It’s been a fun awareness, so I thought I’d share my list this year.

1.   I’m thankful to be in China.  It’s different. It’s challenging. It’s constantly surprising and seldom familiar.  BUT – I have the chance to taste, see, touch, smell, DO hundreds of things that millions of people can only dream of.  I see things daily that teach me more and more about what it is to be human, our commonalities, our differences.  It’s not strictly empathy – it’s more like taking a walk around the elephant, understanding how good people can come to love such a different way of life.  It’s not fast, and it’s seldom easy, but I feel like I understand people more.

2.   I’m thankful for the internet.  When the world seems VERY Chinese, I’m a few clicks away from thousands of people who speak my language.  I can see my nephew’s time in the state cross-country meet.  I can see my high school friend’s wedding, a picture of my favorite coffee shop, and funny comics with American humor.  (Guess what? Different cultures have different kinds of humor!)

3.    I'm thankful for my mother.  Even though she was decidedly NOT enthusiastic about my decision to move to China at first, she has chosen to love and support me anyways.  She's been a consistent source of encouragement and joy to me over the past few months.  In my down times, she has never come close to saying 'I told you so.'  I love you momma.

4.  I'm thankful for whoever sold my sister her ipad.  It was so good to see her face and be able to join my family at the Thanksgiving table!!

5.  I'm thankful for the new friends I've made since arriving here.  There is a handful of fantastic women here who are like-minded in so many ways.  Articulate, intelligent, fun, hardworking, patient, creative, and adventurous. I feel very lucky to be in this mix.

6.  I've always thought that I was a LOT like my dad.  As I've talked with him about my travels and experiences, I find us laughing at the same things, and generally responding in similar ways - it's so fun to share what I do and see with him!  As always, he's been my advisor and supporter, but it's so much fun to share this new slice of similarity. (Oo! Another alliteration!)  I learn about the people I love even more deeply when I see them react to the places where our lives intersect.  Talking with my dad since I've been here has added a new dimension to our relationship that I've loved.

7.  I'm glad to be writing again.  I had forgotten how much I like it, and how fun it is to share with other people.  Sometimes I laugh at the variety of tone I take, and sometimes I wince, wishing for more consistency.  My writing is like my wardrobe, my coffee, and my moods; varied, shifting, changing on a whim, subtle, brazen, bold, nuanced, and always me.  I've always felt an affinity for the ocean. It's always moving, wave on wave, pushing forward, swooping back, tides coming in and tides going out.  A dark sky makes the water black and angry. A blue sky makes it green, giddy, and buoyant.  And a night sky makes it a powerful, silvery mystery.  Even in constant change, it's consistently true to itself.
8.  I'm thankful for American standards of hygiene.  [See other posts for details.]
9.  I'm thankful for Chinese familiarity between friends.  It appeals to me.  Every time I meet my friend Maggie, we hold both hands when we say hello.  When my students take me out, they take me by the hand.  When I'm crossing a busy street, I hold my friend's hand in a semi-protective way.  It's a common, affectionate thing that I really love.  Touch is one of my love languages. =)

I feel like there should be 10...and frankly, there are SO MANY things that I'm thankful for, but thanksgiving was a WEEK ago, and this post is coming so late!  Oh yes:

10.  I'm thankful for the blogging venue of writing.  I track my 'pageviews' gleefully
whenever I post new things.  I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted!!


Happy (Belated) Thanksgiving!




*An expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing.

11/20 Scrap Paper Journal

Today I'm tired, icky, and full of longing.  It's the kind of day where I want to cry, but lack a reason, where you feel like the heroine of a movie right before the climax.  And you pretend like it's any other day, even though your heart is full of echoes and your feet are filled with wandering.  And you wonder about things that frighten you more than failure, about emptiness and contentment, and if purpose is elusive or simply intangible, and if understanding it is important at all.  The kind of day where the cool wind is more a part of you than your tired body.

Computer Use in China

Dear Friends,

As you've seen, I am fairly free and open in my speech here on blogger (my blogging venue).  Over the past week several of my colleagues have been struggling to get service because their VPNs* were failing.  I've felt very lucky to have such good coverage!

I got a message from my VPN server this morning saying that internet security has increased because the Chinese congress is in session.  I adjusted the settings on my computer accordingly, but it does make me a little nervous because I speak so freely.  However, I have no plans to change that!

If we've Skyped recently, don't worry about it.  Skype is supposed to be very secure.  Frankly, I've found the general atmosphere in China to be for more open than I anticipated.

Please pr. for the thorough work of the people who manage my VPN and for the safety and communicative ability of my colleagues.  They're having a hard time being cut off from their emails, facebook, and families.  What a blessed person I've been!



*A VPN is a virtual private network.  Basically it tricks my computer into thinking that it is always operating in the United States.  This protects my information and allows me to have access to sites that are otherwise blocked in China, like facebook, youtube, and some google applications.

Unbelievable Opportunities

I just spent the last hour lecturing a group of 10-15 students about Islam.

SURREAL.

A couple weeks ago, one of my students asked me if I would be the advisor for the Model United Nations (MUN) club on campus.  Obviously I was interested.  When I asked her what she wanted from me, she said, 'Do you know about religions? Can you teach us about Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam?' She almost jumped out of her chair when I told her I could!  I was careful to tell her that I would teach ABOUT these religions, not tell people what they should believe.  ....but I can't believe the opportunity that just fell into my lap!

I talked about Mohammed, basic beliefs about the Koran, Allah, and the importance of living a hilal lifestyle.  We discussed the 5 pillars of Faith and distinctive practices of Islam all over the world.  I even used a powerpoint - teacher points!

It blows me away that because of my background, education, and natural curiosity, I have a mountain of information to teach students who have no knowledge about religions at all.  Of the 10-ish students present, one of them had one Muslim friend. We talked about burqas, head coverings, dietary restrictions, Sunni and Shia believers, the Crusades, the Jewish diaspora at the fall of Jerusalem and the war of 1945 that reestablished Israel and displaced the Palestinians.  And ALL of them paid rapt attention and asked detailed, intelligent questions -- every teacher's dream.

At the next meeting we will discuss Buddhism.  I'm a little more nervous about that because I live in CHINA, but it's not likely that any of my students are practicing Buddhists, so that's a consolation.  They asked me to begin with Christianity, but I want to hold out on that one - it's worthy of much thought and preparation.  I'm so excited to be doing this here!

**A gentle reminder: I can speak freely in this format, but I highly prefer that the name of the university I teach at NOT be mentioned in the comments.  Thank you for your discretion!

Weeeee!

Instead of just reblogging something I posted on tumblr, someone actually quoted me. YAYAYAY!!

Is this a dumb thing to be happy about?  I feel so special!  =)

What a day this has been!

The street where I live

Today is one of those days where I walked down the street and thought, "Yeah.  I really live here.  I'm on the OTHER side of the world, surrounded by Asian people...and life is AWESOME."

This is something you never forget, but often fail to realize.

It's so cool.

Today I feel like one of those interesting people who do something different.  Tomorrow I might miss rain, or coffee, or fireplaces, but today is fantastic!




P.S. For those of you who sang or hummed the title of this blog, you are correct.  Music points for you!  Bonus point if you changed the photo caption to 'The street where you live' and sang that as well.

Bonnie Bunny

Many little girls grow up dreaming of the day they can be a mommy.  I wasn't one of them.  My momma told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, and that God had something special just for me.  So instead of naming my children, I grew up dreaming about being a writer or astronaut or scientist or explorer.  I even had a brief fire-fighter stage.  It hasn't been until recently that I've been bitten by the mommy-bug.  There are several single female teachers here (and yes, eligible men as well) and a recurring conversation theme: When will we have families?  Do we HAVE to wait for husbands in order to raise children?  Personally, I speak strictly from the 'what-if' category on that; I have no plans to adopt at this time. =)

However-

My friend recently bought a bunny, and my maternal instincts instantly went into overdrive.  In lieu of adopting a Chinese baby, it occurred to me that adopting a Chinese bunny might fulfill my need to mother.

Where's PETA when you need them?

This instigated a bunny-hunt, which involved talking to several Chinese friends and students, renting motor bikes (bikes with motors, not motorcycles - a stroke of Chinese brilliance) and spending hours touring all over Xinzheng to find the pet-market.  Interestingly enough, the pet rabbits were right next to the meat rabbits.  The poor things were all jammed into metal baskets so tightly that they couldn't move.  From what I've seen, Chinese people are not gentle with their animals AT ALL.  Adults allow children to smack and poke them, and the sellers are rather rough with them, ripping off matted hair and carelessly squashing their faces as they pull them in and out of cages.

Cassie

Chatting after a stressful ride

I chose my bunny, a beautiful little 'Panda-rabbit' with black ears and a speckled back, picked out a spacious cage, and marveled at my student's ability to maneuver a bike AND a caged rabbit through the crowded streets of Xinzheng.  (By the way, riding those bikes is not as easy as it sounds.  I almost biffed once when my student wasn't looking.  I saw an old Chinese man watching me, so I said, 'Shhh!' and pointed at my student.  Conspiratorial laughs with strangers are the best!)




My bunny had a bit of a messy tummy, so that night I did something I've never done before: I gave a rabbit a bath!  Blow-drying a rabbit is not as easy as blow-drying a dog. The fur is really soft and short - it's impossible to brush, and took forever to dry, but she was too little to leave wet.  Wet bunny in a towel?  Maybe the cutest thing.



After much deliberation I decided to name her 'Bonnie' because she was such a perky little thing, and I liked the alliteration.  She especially liked running behind the sofa and exploring my bedroom.  I decided to potty train her (which required hunting down cat litter) but she pooped on my blanket and peed in my favorite shoes within the first two days.  Not ON my favorite shoes - IN my favorite shoes.

It was worth it though. She spent a lot of time meeting my friends, and hanging out around my feet.  What a trusting soul!

She learned how to Skype, met Blake, and spent a lot of time tracking his face back and forth across the screen.  What kind of mom would I be if I didn't photo-capture the cuteness?

Lucy and Bonnie having a bonding moment.  Once she was safely at home and not crashing around Xinzheng, Bonnie was fairly confident.  My apartment must have been a haven of calm in comparison to the craziness of the pet market.

She hung out in the pocket of my awesome jammies while I did laundry the other day.



This past week was Culture Week at Sias.  It involves a lot of presentations and performance by the foreign faculty that teaches world history and showcases multicultural performance arts.  Bonnie seemed a little tired (I presumed it was due to my late nights) so she was in her cage while I was turning my friend Elizabeth into a salsa dancer.  I was almost done with her hair when I hear a squeak.  "Is that my bunny?" I wondered aloud.  Since when do bunnies make noise?  I stuck my head out of the bathroom and saw poor Bonnie stretched out on the floor of her cage.  Elizabeth and I went over to check her out, and the little thing squeaked again.  I jumped up and grabbed a couple hundred yuan and my shoes while Elizabeth called a Chinese speaking friend to go to the vet with me.  I ransacked my cupboards for a box, spurred on by the anxious little cries.  I found one, but before I could get the cage open, she arched her back, and died.

I've never watched anything die in pain like that.  Surely there is nothing quite as pathetic and heartrending as the frightened, pained cries of a baby bunny.  I would have taken her to the vet earlier if I had recognized the signs of a sick rabbit. So sad...

I was then faced with an immediate dilemma:  what do I do with her?  I have an immense capacity to deal with unpleasant things, but I do NOT handle dead things well.  It's not the death itself that's difficult, it's the corpse.  I try not to show it, but they really scare me.  What an irrational fear - it's not going to jump up at me or DO anything.  I have to mention that this doesn't apply to food sources or animals that I've hunted/caught for food.  I can even grit my teeth and get through a dissection just fine, but fetal pigs are pushing it.  I don't even want to think about dissecting cats!  When I was 17 we had a lovo  (like a luau) for a friend's wedding, and one of my best friends thought it would be a great idea to chase me with the pig's head....outside...in the dark...surrounded by sleeping Fijians.  (PS: I'M NOT OVER IT YET.)

I hate this part of me.  It makes me feel weak and heartless.  Who goes to a funeral of a loved one and shudders at the sight of their corpse?  Why is it that I can adore my dog for years and have a hard time touching her only minutes after her death?  What logic can possibly be behind the fear of a corpse?  None.  There is no logic, but I can't shake the aversion.

I told Elizabeth a little about it as she prepared to leave for her salsa dance.  That amazing woman offered to come back and take care of little Bonnie for me!  I hate that I was relieved, but I was.  She left to dance, leaving me with my tiny bunny corpse.  I covered the cage with a blanket, and sat bravely in the same room, hating my cowardice, but also full of gratefulness for my friend's help.

For the last several years, it's been a goal of mine to conquer my fear of corpses.  They are the only thing that really frighten me.  My independent streak tells me that I should be able to deal with things on my own, ALL things.  If someone breaks into my house, I don't scream - I pick up something heavy to swing.  If there's a fire, I try to put it out instead of calling the fire department (like a sensible person should).  I've wanted to conquer this THING, but now I wonder, why should I?

Chinese people do everything within their power to disperse negative feelings.  They usually try to diffuse tension by dispersing it among many people.  If one person has a problem with another, they get another person to work it out for them.  From an American perspective this looks like 'ganging up' on someone, but in China it's like every person is a mediator.  If you're down, people swarm you with happiness until you can't help but smile.  Even if your smile stems from politeness rather than compulsion, the outward act can lead to the feeling.  In a way, contentment of the individual is the responsibility of the community.  The individual relies on their community's support, but is conscious and eager to support others.

I'm a naturally independent person.  I fear little.  Maybe it's okay for me to have this area of weakness.  Maybe it's okay for me to need other people's help once in a while.  Of course there are many areas in life where I've received help and assistance before, but that has been largely situational.  It's a bit different to acknowledge that I have a constant and predictable weakness.  Moving overseas has been a both/and experience so far; I've grown both more independent in action and more reliant on the support of others in issues of the heart.  In moving here, I wanted to become more independent and free.  Now that I'm here, I feel like I'm learning that relying on your community requires trust and a willingness to release control.  It's scary to admit that you need another person, especially if you don't know if that person will come through.  But it's through that vulnerability that people can truly love one another.

My sweet and sad little time with Bonnie bunny left me with a bag of rabbit food and an empty cage.  It was so nice to have something to love on, but it might be a while before I get another bunny.  She was a sweetheart, and I miss her.

Kindness is Necessary

It's fall, and I've found myself missing so many things from home - rain, cold weather, thick sweaters and hot coffee.  But I was reminded recently about something that makes me incredibly glad to be away from America right now: ELECTION SEASON.  As posts trickle through my mini-feed, I'm filled with happiness that I'm not being hounded by vicious advertising campaigns and zealous political fiends that chase you down in the streets.

In my experience, election season highlights the following attitudes/assumptions:

1. If you do not wish to discuss political issues with me, clearly you have no conviction or courage.
2. If you do not agree with my political viewpoint, then you lack information or common sense.
3. My perspective is fueled by my conviction.  If you have the same information and come to a different conclusion, you're essentially amoral.
4. Your own opinions, deductions and rationales are not good enough, because you'll probably make an emotionally based decision, which is stupid.  Quote someone or give me a statistic so I can know whether or not you are a valid person to listen to.
5. If I out-talk you for any reason (or get other people to laugh at you) I win, and you're stupid.
6. If you out-talk me, (or get people to laugh at me) you are calling me stupid.

Thus we beat each other up with information and hateful slogans.  We demean and tear down fellow Americans if we deem that their moral convictions aren't in the right order.  When did WE become God?  Frankly, no one person can be correct about everything, which means by default that you may just be wrong once in a while.  Nothing exempts you from this - it's part of the privilege of being human.  You know what else?  If your convictions draw you to a few major issues, it doesn't mean that another person is stupid or evil for prioritizing something else.  Frankly, no one can be an expert at everything.  We NEED this variety to create a healthy society.

I am blown away every election season by the waves of contempt and contentious language that American people pour over one another.  I don't care who you are or what you are promoting: if you can't make your point without slandering the intelligence or moral acuity of your opposition, then you are not a persuasive person, you're a socially accepted bully.

Americans have allowed mob-mentality and bullying to be the driving force of our political fervor.  I'm not just talking about the official campaigns - I'm talking about the conversations that happen standing in line at the grocery store.

I found this quotation by John Wesley, and I find it very fitting:

Let's say (hypothetically) that you found out John Wesley DIDN'T actually say this.  Does that make the message any less true?

To my fellow Christians:  God told humans they were stewards of the earth (environmental rights).  He's also told us to build and grow (small business protection).  He clearly sets standards for ethical treatment of immigrants and foreigners (minority rights) and protection of the weak and defenseless (abortion, child rights, and ethical treatment of animals).  He also REPEATEDLY champions for the widow, orphan and poor and condemns societies that leave them unsupported (welfare).  Chances are, one of those things I just listed made you angry because you associate it with a particular party.  God has charged us with ALL of those responsibilities, not just issues that seem to be clearly upright or immoral.  It can be muddy and messy and grey - that's why so many people have to work on it together.  Above all, the way we choose to speak - and the issues we avoid due to discomfort - reflect not only on us, but the God we serve.

Kindess during the election season is not weakness or lack of fortitude.  It is necessary.  It's commanded by Jesus, 'Love your neighbor as yourself,' even if you think his politics are stupid.  Be smart.  Vote well.  Live well.  Be kind to one another.

The Only Quiet Place in China

I feel like I’ve just stepped into the twilight zone – I’m in a quiet room.  In earlier posts I talked about the oppressively high volume of everything in China.  The dorms are open and loud, and the restaurants and tea shops are really just for eating, not parking with books.  I knew my students study, but I couldn’t figure out where.

In America, libraries are full of books.  In China, libraries are full of students.  The first floor is filled with books.  The space on the second floor is split evenly between books and students, and the third floor doesn’t have any books at all – just one massive, open, silent room, full of students.  There are maybe 150-200 people in a room the size of a small basketball court or two mammoth choir rooms, and no one is talking.  Apparently ‘studying together’ in China means studying in the same place, not speaking with one another about class content.

This is the first time I’ve felt overwhelmed by my singular whiteness.  Maybe it’s because it’s so quiet.  Or maybe it’s because every face is down and I was surprised with a sea of black hair when I expected books.  As awkward and strange as this is – it’s also so CALM.  I love it!  My phone just went off – so awkward!  I feel the tension seeping out of my shoulders now that I’ve found a place where the loudest sound is a backpack zipper or muted cough.  This is fantastic…    

A friend lent me a book when I got here called, "101 Stories for Foreigners to Understand Chinese People," by Yi S. Ellis and Bryan D. Ellis.  I wish there was a book like this for every culture.  It's already helped me understand soooo many things better.  I've avoided a couple of faux pas, and shown cultural savvy (a couple of times) because of this book.

If you do business with Chinese people, teach Chinese students or are just curious, I highly suggest you read this book.  It's simple and entertaining - I downed it in two days.

ISBN 978-7-5382-8109-5

Awkward Moments

I expected to experience new things in China: tastes, smells, sounds, sights, confusions.  But equally new and surprisingly unexpected are the awkward exchanges between me and Chinese people.  Something will happen, the Chinese person will walk away, and my inner child is left squishing up her face saying, 'Wait. What? Hold on now - WHAT just happened?'  Then I tuck away my anecdote, pat the inner child on the head, and go on with my day.

Sound a little vague?  Lemme 'splain.

I hate my phone, but at least
it's purple and sparkly.

During my first week here, I went to the store with my friend while he bought a phone.  He was busy with the culture student (college students with AWESOME English and extra knowledge of American culture who often help us translate) so I practiced my pantomime skills and discussed the price of iphones in America with the store employees.  The girls got really excited and asked to take pictures with me (of course).  They pulled me really close - friendship in China is high contact - talked about my makeup and then one brave soul leaned in close...and very gently touched my eyelashes.  Then I heard Michael (the culture student gasp) and yell 'No!' and I thought, 'Yup, that happened.'  Poor guy.  I thought he was gonna have a heart attack.

China was a closed country for so long that the sight of foreigners is still relatively new.  People are used to seeing the laowai on campus, but a trip into town reminds me that I'm definitely the 'other.'  I constantly see people sneaking pictures of their white friend (ie: they saw me on the street) or suddenly grabbing me for pictures.  Sometimes people push their young children at me for pictures, like a tourist attraction.  The brave ones hold up two shaky fingers in a peace sign and stare wide-eyed into the camera.  And yes, I've had children run away in fear.  Who does that?  Geez, in MY country we only forced children to take pictures with fat old men in red furry suits or people dressed like giant bunnies.  Because that's not frightening at all....

---> The next section is about a squattie potty.  Avoid if you are faint of heart or an overly visual thinker.

I think the most awkward moment I've had with a stranger so far was at a rest stop on the way to Xi'an. Squattie potties are inherently awkward, and usually filthy and smelly. (I will never complain at an American rest stop ever again.)  Sometimes there are no doors on the stalls, or they don't lock, or won't shut.  Depending on the line and sense of urgency, sometimes you just suck it up and discreetly take care of business.  (Chinese women don't seem to care, so you adapt, right?)  Anyways, I was traveling to Xi'an when this very situation presented itself.  My priority was all about completing business, so I opted to blitz through the crowd to a stall without a door.  A Chinese woman took that opportunity to stare straight into my eyes....and I couldn't get away.  I tried to shoot her a look that communicated something along the lines of 'Surely this is a mistake...' But she maintained a direct and intent study of my face.  The. Whole. Time.  All of my friends stood with their mouths hanging open, and tried to build a human shield as best they could.  I feel like all people know that direct eye contact is not okay when someone is...busy.  Utterly flabbergasting!  Back on the bus I was speechless, (a miracle!) but that's okay, because my friends told the whole bus....groan...  Yeah, maybe I shouldn't post this, but it was SO absurd!

---> End of the potty part.

I was back at my favorite coffee shop the other day, and a teenage girl found me interesting, so she watched me from the table next to me.  She tried to talk to me, but she didn't speak any English, so she kept staring.  Then she walked over to the wall divider by my table, rested her chin on her hand, her face maybe 20 inches away from my face, watching.  Maybe 20 minutes went by as I tried to work.  So very disconcerting.  I go to this shop to get away from people who could distract me from my grading.  Focus fail.  In hindsight, the girl may have been a little mentally impaired, but it wasn't glaringly apparent.  Still, the proximity made it really awkward.



All kinds of strange things happen here, but a special few leave me with that unique, slightly blank feeling and the thought, 'Yes. Yes, that just happened.'  Some of them are purely cultural differences.  Others happen because people allow curiosity to override manners.  I'm sure I've been guilty of that more than once in my life, and I'm sure people could easily provide examples!  At the end of the day you just put your face in your hands, laugh, take your inner child by the hand and move along.

Wishing for Cider

It's October, and I think fall is here.  The weather is cold 
enough to wear jeans and coats, but not scarves or sweaters.  The air is a little cooler, but it doesn't have that clear, crisp, chill that brings out wool pea coats.  I miss apple cider with cinnamon.  We just moved through apple season, so there's plenty of apples, but no cinnamon! Bummer...  I'll be excited to get a new winter coat though. =)

Questions, Answers, and Turning Points

When I was 17, I took a class called Honors American Studies which was a blend of English and History.  Toward the end of the year we were told to write a paper based on the life of a historical figure.  We were told to identify the 'turning point' of the person's life and base the paper on that thesis. It was a bit difficult to use an occurrence as a thesis, but the assignment did serve to launch me on a deeper level of introspection almost immediately.  I wondered "What will my 'turning point' be? What do I want it to be? Do I have any say over this?"  It didn't take me long to realize that you can't choose which events will be significant in your life.  Memorable words are seldom platitudes, phases can be as significant as events, and who you choose to become is as much a part of your identity as your immediate inclinations are.  I realized then that I will never be able to identify my own 'turning point,' if there even is such a thing.  Only in hindsight can a person see the importance of events and patterns that guide a life.

I've always felt a sense of urgency to do well, to do right, to be thorough.  These are good things, but the urgency is noted by people around me.  Those who don't like it say I'm intense, driven, OCD, over-the-top, intimidating, and stubborn.  People who like it say I'm confident, thorough, detailed, passionate, persistent, and strong.  All I know is that God's given me two deep desires: to know, and to protect.

I love Ecclesiastes because it talks about the God-given thirst for understanding and how He keeps it forever beyond our grasp.  I know that this paradox exists to keep me in a listening posture, but some questions circle around like a familiar echo, sometimes intriguing, sometimes reminding me of the empty places where answers should be.

I expect this year to be a turning point.  Maybe I'll be told to stay.  Maybe I'll be told to return.  Maybe I'll be told to go somewhere else.  But maybe this will be just another year.  Maybe there will be no big revelation.  I don't get to decide when and where those happen.  I know that I'm in a position of listening and following, and that toys with my independent, driven spirit.


Before I left America, a good friend gave me a song by Britt Nicole.  I had never heard it before, but I knew it belonged to me from the first time I heard it.  There are so many layers of meaning, but what's striking me at the moment are these lines:

"And I'll stop searching for the answers,

I'll stop praying for an escape,

And I'll trust you, God, with where I am,

And believe that You will have your way."

I honestly don't know if I can do this, actually stop looking for answers.  My curiosity and drive are so strong.  I believe God will have His way with me - I just want to know what it is and if I'm doing well.

This post may sound sad.  I don't feel very sad, there are just things I wish I had clearer answers about.  Until I have them, I just remind myself that life is clearer in hindsight, and that following is sometimes more important than answers.

"Even if my dreams have died,

And even if I don't survive,

I'll still worship You with all my life."

Snapshot Page

I've just created a new page on my blog entitled 'snapshots.'  These are one-liners that come to me, kind of like a status update on facebook.  Take a look if my regular posts are too verbose....haha....that rhymed....

Wretched Edibles

If you know me, you know that I love food.  All kinds of food.  Coming from a long line of inventive cooks makes you believe that any food can be redeemed.  Until moving to China there was only one food I couldn’t manage to swallow: raw zucchini.

(Notice the qualifier?  RAW zucchini.  Yes, I’m aware that zucchini bread rocks, zucchini relish is creative, and broiled zucchini is fall staple, but I cannot manage to swallow that crud raw.)

26 years, and there’s only one thing on the never-never list.

THEN I MOVED TO CHINA.

Preface:  I love the food here!  So creative and different, the best comfort food, ridiculous variety-- I’ve been blown away by how great the food is.  But some things….should just never be.

#1.  Sea Cucumber

I was aware that people eat sea cucumber in China, so when I saw a translucent tentacle-ish thing at an elegant banquet, I was eager to try it.  Imagine a dense jello that tastes like water and slides down with all the elegance of a rubber glove.  It was like eating a tense jelly-fish.  You’re not sure whether to chew, slurp, mush, or just swallow the thing whole and pretend like it never happened.

#2.  Things shaped like eyeballs

During my second week here I went out to hotpot with a group of experienced teachers.  Hotpot is a fantastic eating experience, delicious, social, interactive – all the fun of fondue without the peril of boiling oil.  In my individual bowl of broth there was a random assortment of veggies and spices to which I added meat, mushrooms, and more vegetables.  About halfway through the meal I found a mystery item – something round, slightly translucent, with a thin skin about the size of a quail’s egg.  It struck me as looking vaguely like an eyeball, but I chose to think of it as a marinated quail egg and just eat it.  Then it popped in my mouth.  Grittiness.  End of story.  Add to the never-never list: check.

#3.  Stinky Tofu

People have compared stinky tofu to a cheese before, a fermented food product that smells, but still tastes delicious.  The first time you smell stinky tofu, you expect to stumble over a corpse somewhere, and that’s saying something once you realize it smells worse than the garbage lying mounded in the summer sun.  As I child, I hated dog-duty.  (Yup, the doody-duty.)  Summer was the worst because of the combination of dirt, dried grass, and doody.  Imagine that smell combined with fetid diapers and corpse-ish-ness.  And then imagine putting it in your mouth.  WHY WOULD ANY SANE PERSON DO THAT????  I got some by accident on my last day in Xi’an.  It was disguised by soup and some benign-looking chicken.  The taste?  A whole lot like the smell.  I tried a few bites for politeness’s sake, but I have to say again, WHY WOULD A PERSON EVER PUT THAT IN THEIR MOUTH?? And on PURPOSE?!

If you feel like I’m being judgmental, then you are absolutely correct.  I have adventured, experienced, tasted, and judged that these vile things will never pass my lips again.

(Jesus, you hold the one trump card, but PLEASE, let this plate pass.)