The Birds of St Sophia

I'm currently sitting in Haerbin China, sipping a Chestnut macchiato in Starbucks, looking out the window.  The sky is clear and blue, with sunlight glinting off the curved copper domes topping Russian buildings.  My toes are painfully numb, while my hands are swelling with the sudden heat of this delectable macchiato.  I hope for the sake of Americans everywhere that chestnut flavoring is not limited to Chinese consumers.  I try to savor it slowly while my toes come back to life.  Hordes of Chinese traipse up and down Center street, while buses trundle under thin metals arches that span the road lined with spindly, naked trees.  As I wandered the city taking pictures yesterday, I noticed that I passed over buildings and monuments in favor of the winter trees.  I have always found leafless trees impossibly beautiful, their exposed skeletons lacing in a myriad of intricate patterns, the structure and strength of the tree refusing to die in the cold.  In a bare tree, willpower and hope are enmeshed.  Outside this window, I see a giant ice sculpture next to a Russian bakery. This American coffee shop is next to my favorite clothes-store in Asia, which is Japanese.  The street is lined with Chinese restaurants and culminates in a town square featuring beautiful St. Sophia, an old brick church topped with dark green domes sprouting golden crosses.  An old Chinese woman sells bags of corn for the birds - I can almost hear her say 'tuppence a bag.'  At her whistle, a flock of white doves take wing, swirling around the spires perfectly synchronized.  My toes are warm enough to feel now.  There are few moments in life as delightful as this!

Picking up the Pace

An excerpt from an email to a friend.

She said: "Hey, what's up with you?"

I said:

Hey.
- Grades.
- Final Reviews.
- Meetings about MORE employment next year.
- I met the UN head of Women's issues for the country of Morocco. She's going to connect me with the UN Director of NGOs in Palestine.
- Applying for a professional Fulbright Grant to do research.
- Considering getting a second Masters next year in sociology.
- I think I have a new mentor - a fascinating French Canadian woman who studied the rise/fall of the women's movement in the M.E. We had an immediate connection.
- And hey, I mentioned grading and finals, right? Ugh, stress.
- Still no airplane tickets. If there's no improvement, I'm buying a kayak.

There are sooooo many things going on right now, fascinating things, exciting things, motivational things, ALL-THE-THINGS!  I have two partially written posts explaining what's been going on.  I hope to have a full-ish report to give you all by this weekend.

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.

Duck in the coop

Right now I’m sitting in a hammock on the roof of my apartment building.  The air has gradually grown thick over the past four days, air, pollution, and humidity vying for the same space.  Now it’s raining, thick, heavy, lazy drops, pinging on the tin roof-top covering the area where we hang our clothes to dry.  Clothes, cloth, cloths – I’ve explained the difference between those words five times in the last two days to about 135 students.  My hammock isn’t the driest place, but as long as my computer is safe, I’m not going to miss out on the quietest outdoors experience I’ve had in weeks.  I love listening to the rain here – the air feels different, but the sound is familiar.

The last couple of weeks have been a little interesting.  I thought culture shock would be a sad feeling, or an intolerant perspective, or a nagging whininess because a person expects everything to be the same as home is.  It’s more like being the only duck in a coop full of chickens.  Everyone has feathers and wings just like you, but somehow you keep expecting to find a pond somewhere.  Culture shock isn’t the longing for the pond – it’s the expectation of finding one.

Sometimes the contrast of cultures is little; you sneeze, I say, “Bless you.”  WHY?  Old world superstition.  What an awkward thing to explain to a student.  Sometimes the contrast is blatant.  Babies don’t wear diapers, so their pants are split open until they’re two or three.  You learn to avoid all puddles.

The hardest thing for me is the noise – constant, blaring, haranguing noise.  The Chinese express everything with BIG sound.  Happiness, anger, grief, motivation = noise!  They also mark every notable event with firecrackers: relationships, births, deaths, building dedications, street performances, weddings, or maybe just because it’s Tuesday!  I’m learning to enjoy these outbursts of sound at remarkable decibels because it is a joyous expression.  It’s been years since anyone has called me ‘quiet,’ but even with my training in projection, some of my student still can’t hear me.  I really think their hearing is already damaged!  Add to the list of necessary China gear: earplugs.

At the same time, the clash of worlds is kind of wonderful.  I missed dinner last night (for choir practice, obviously) so I trekked out to the food district across the street from the university.  Food carts were pulled out along the side of the road, with meat kabobs or fried bread or giant biscuit sandwiches, long tables filled with a million different noodles, marinating snails, sliced lotus, or boiled dumplings.  Everything is vivid, or it would be if it weren’t covered in a fine layer of dust.  Red chipped paint on the carts, yellow and green advertisements high on both sides of the brightly lit alleyway.  People lounge at long tables on each side of the streets, kind of like a community food court outside.  I walked through last night, pretty hungry, but wanting something new.  Between my white face, broken Chinese, and awesome pantomime, I bought cold marinated noodles with just the right amount of spice while locals pretended like they weren’t taking pictures of me with their smart phones.  It was a good night to be out there, the night sky and tantalizing smells – then I laughed as I realized I was trudging around an alley in some of my best clothes! 

That’s culture shock phase #2 – growing accustomed to something, then realizing how absurd it would seem in a different context.  It’s high-sensory living, amazingly enjoyable and energy consuming.  I find I need a lot more sleep.

The air is still dense, but cooler now.  I feel like fall is one step closer.  I wish I had cinnamon – it would complete my perfect bowl of oatmeal!  But as I sit in my hammock on the other side of the laundry, dreaming of perfect fall oatmeal, I’m also taking in the view; a pagoda and the replica of a Russian castle, both illuminated with brightly colored Christmas lights.  Quack!