missed class

My phone was ringing like crazy, and I’m irritably thinking, “I’m not picking up, stop ringing.”  There’s no voice mail here, so it’s a common practice to just keep calling and calling and calling.

I’m face down on a massage table with a blind guy a little too vigorously working on a knot in my lower back that I didn’t even know existed, and I’m wishing I’d studied some words I might need in this situation.  All I can remember how to say is, “Don’t push me,” useful for getting on the bus.  I decide to let it go.

Jason’s on the next table, half asleep, waiting his turn, occasionally rallying for a translation, “He says something about your lower back.”  It’s my hill running legs that need the work and my motivation to find a good massage place.

A few weeks ago, my tutor and I search for and found this place: blind massage, walking distance from school, really clean by Chinese standards, in a good neighborhood, no prostitution, and cheap ($5 for an hour).  I’m not willing to go alone, and I love Jason because he is always game for getting out and his Chinese is great.

Eventually, I pick up the phone.  It’s another teacher in my department, one who often communicates and translates school stuff for me.

She’s desperate, “Ann! Where are you?”

“Off campus.”

“You missed your class!”

I’m baffled, “What class?”  I used to teach a class on Friday afternoon, but it was changed to Thursday, during the lunch/rest hours, because so many students were missing it.  They leave early to spend the weekend at home.

“Oh, didn’t you get my message on QQ?  I sent it 2 days ago.”  QQ is a China communication lifeline, a website that kind of blends email, IM, facebook, google docs, and who knows what else.  I have an account, but I’m rarely on it for many reasons, but mostly because I don’t read Chinese and navigating it is really frustrating.

She continues, “You have a new class for 3+1 freshman students, reading and writing.  We have to reschedule it for Sunday.”  3+1 is a program where students study at this university for 3 years, and then go to the UK to study one year.  They get degrees from both universities.  It was the sophomore 3+1 class that I used to teach on Fridays.  I guess the scheduler is thinking that the freshman won’t leave early on Fridays to go home?

I respond with the PC trained part of my brain:  “OK”

Here’s the crazy part: these 3+1 classes have no curriculum, no scope and sequence, no book, nothing.  I’m amused because the dean this week asked me to do a teacher training next semester on reading and writing, exactly like she asked me to do back in September when I did a training on WICR.  Now, I’m not sure what she expects.  Apparently WICR wasn’t enough, and she told me the teachers want to observe me teaching this class.  Well, at least I’m on solid ground with experience teaching with WICR.

Another surprise came on Thursday when I was told I’d be giving a speech to the freshmen on Saturday morning.  Who knows on what topic.  The PC warned us about this possibility, telling us to have prepared at all times: a lesson, a workshop, a song, and a speech.  Maybe there were other things, but I don’t remember. 

A speech in the morning.  A new class in less than 48 hours.  Right.

my new best friend

The good news is I have a new space heater, thanks to my counterpart teacher’s guanxi.  I have a new used mattress, thanks to my own tenacious persistence and probably the little gifts I give the 2 workers who help me.  I have a lot more mold advice, thanks to my good friends and the PC China doctor.  I have a seemingly mold-free bedroom, but I’m suspicious.  It’s like finding one tick on you, and then you feel like you’re covered in ticks.  I’m eyeing everything, “Is THAT mold?” 

On my honey: "Everything new is fine.
Coffee is lovely without cups.
I am lonely without you.
Come into my heart, I do love it."

2 guys carried this across campus
 and up 6 fights of stairs

salvation from Judy

mold is back

I didn't intend to spend my day cleaning yesterday.  Even on my meager PC stipend, I actually pay a poor woman from the country to clean once a week, and she does an amazing job, much better than me...and I'm a serious cleaner.  I do this because she has even less money than me and my apartment needs it, not because I'm a slob (well, maybe a little), but it's dirty here, nothing stays clean for long.  

Mold is everywhere in this part of China; it's a way of life, so the PC health handbook goes over dealing with mold in exact, precise details: providing names for the cleaning chemicals and outlining cleaning steps.  Finding the borax acid took some effort.  I spent much of my first week in my apartment wearing rubber gloves and the PC issued respirator mask cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.

Now 3 months later, I've notice the mold growing again in my bedroom.  It's a subtile change, a gradual darkening of the walls.  I'm in disbelief,  "What, how can this be? I left the borax acid on the walls, I open the curtains for light, I open the window for air, I live on the 6th floor!"  But, it's true and so immediate action is required. 

washing the bed after the move

My solution was to move to another seemingly mold-free room.  As took the bedding off, I saw mold on the box-springs and bed frame; now I'm really bummed.  I went to the woman who handles foreign teacher housing.  After I explained the situation, I asked her what I should do.  "I don't know. I'll call the maintenance guys and see what they think."  They came right over, decided I should move to another room, and then they moved the bed.  I had to stop them from putting it all back together; I mean it's covered in mold! I need to clean it!  I can't sleep in a mold bed!  I guess, moldy beds don't bother them, they think it's ok.

Since they were already in my apartment, I showed them the various plumbing problems and they worked for hours, successfully fixing leaks, drain covers, and toilet issues.  I have a western toilet, a completely baffling fixture that required someone else to come have a look.  

mold on the box spring

While they were plumbing, I was cleaning.  I ended up pushing the mattress into another room, since I didn't know the Chinese to ask them to take it away, and I'm really sure they wouldn't have taken it anyway.  The apartment came with a broken, moldy couch which is now stored, unused, on my porch.  Understandably, these guys do not want to carry anything up or down 6 flights of stairs.  They are really nice and helpful, and I try to stay on their good side by bringing them little things from time to time, like American tea.

Today I need to go ask for a new box spring, and I'm not looking forward to it.  When I've asked for basic things in the past, forms were filled out while promises were made, but nothing happens, and I end up just buying whatever I need.  I can't just go buy a box spring.  This feeling of helplessness is hard.  At home, I'm used to making my world spin, solving problems, just taking care of things.  We all do it without much thought.

after cleaning, still moldy

When I'm frustrated with my apartment problems, I just need to think of the other PCVs who are dealing with the same issues, some are much worse, like rats.  I'm glad I don't have that problem.  And, I'm glad that I'm not having bad respiratory problems from the mold like another PCV that I know.  I run my PC issued air cleaner at night, hopefully that helps.

air cleaner

doesn't look that bad, right?

Black Valley hike

I've decided the preoccupation with being cold here comes from the fact that there's no heat, so once you're cold, it's really hard to get warm again.  I learned this first hand yesterday on a trip back to Wansheng, not far from where I was last weekend, the Stone Forest, which is at the top of the mountains.  This time, I was hiking with about 40 people down below, in Black Valley.

blurry pic... cold people, lots of food

People here are obsessed with staying warm.  I learned on Wednesday afternoon that Friday afternoon the Department of International Relations would leave for an overnight trip, "dress warm and bring your passport."  Never mind that I already had plans for the weekend; there was no question from the department about Bailey and I going, and how could I refuse a free trip?  Over the next 48 hours, I was called 3 times about bringing warm clothes.  Bailey called laughing, wondering about all of this.  Bailey is one of the recent Drake U. graduates who also teaches at SISU, and she and I both teach in this department.

no heat

We were also warned, with great concern, that we'd be hiking 8 kilometers, and would we be ok?  "Uh, yeah, I think that will be no problem." 

We got to the hotel up in the mountains about 6:30 pm, and they thankfully had dinner ready, but oh man was that building cold!  We all huddled around tables full of food.  The only source of heat was electric blankets on the beds, so after dinner that's were I went, to bed.

Black Valley is beautiful, and it reminded me of hiking in Idaho, except for the mega-developed walkway.  Despite the cold, everyone was happy to be out, and showed it by yelling at the top of their lungs for the first kilometer; these are no little yelps of joy, picture Tarzan's call. I've heard this yelling before on Gele Mountain.

After my counterpart teacher, "Jack," gave it his best shot, I asked him, "What's up with the yelling?"

"It's healthy; it clears the lungs."

lots and lots of waterfalls

On good days, I stop myself from saying, "That's crazy,"  and I instead say, "Oh, we believe something different in American."  On this occasion, I just opened my mouth, not knowing what to say.  My Chinese friend, "Zoe," stepped in to explain that I was "speechless," a word I taught her last week, and we all laughed.  What I was thinking: "If you want to blow out your lungs, try running or mountain biking up hill."  But who knows?  Maybe yelling is really good for the lungs or heart or head.  All I know is I find it more than a little disruptive to my hiking experience. 

taking pictures of clear water, seriously

"relax your body and adjust your breath"
the bottom of the sign explains walking times based on age,
really?

with Bailey

"floating walkway"

monkey stool
 there was a monkey population here,
 but they've all left because of
people yelling

one of many swinging bridges

my Chongqing host, Fang
the sign says, "no swimming"

wishing tree

pizza Thanksgiving

Most of all, I’m thankful for my amazing life with wonderful family and friends.  I miss you all more than I can say.  This is the first Thanksgiving I’ve been away from Ty and Stu and I can’t stand it, ugh. 

I’m also thankful to be an American.  There are so many basic things that I’ve taken for granted in my comfortable life, especially in beautiful Boise, like clean water and food and an overall high standard of living.

Weird stuff just happens, usually surprising me, and leaving me with more questions than answers. 

I’m about to leave for the night, I learned yesterday, to a destination an hour or more away.  The department of international relations is going hiking tomorrow, so Bailey and I are also invited.  The only details we were given: bring warm clothes and our passports.  I've gotten 3 phone calls on the bring warm clothes part.  I was planning to join other PCVs for a Thanksgiving celebration on Saturday afternoon, so I’m disappointed to miss that.

nontraditional Thanksgiving
(my counterpart teacher: 1st guy on left)

We celebrated Thanksgiving here last night at a newly opened western style bar/restaurant, Helen’s, with pizza and beer.  Our very international group included American, British, Chinese, French, Irish, Korean, Russian, Kazakhstan, and Belgium teachers and students.  It’s a fun bunch and I’m happy to know them.  English is the universal language, but almost everyone speaks several languages, often mixing them.

"Zoe," me, Jessica, Jason

international pizza Thanksgiving 

confirming that Americans are strange

Last Friday I sat in on my counterpart teacher’s translation classes.  I found it really fascinating that the students all came up with something different when they translated a single passage.  I learned that a correct translation depends on knowing the culture, not only because some English words don’t translate into Chinese, or the other way, but also because words have cultural connotations.  For example, several students translated, “the teacher was intimate with her students.”  I explained that American teachers would go to jail for that.

Another weird thing that happened this week was a site visit from my program manager who has been out of touch while she deals with some serious health issues.  It wasn’t weird that she came; she will visit all of the PCVs in her area, it was the school’s reaction.  Immediately after she called school officials to schedule her visit, my phone started ringing.  My counterpart teacher suddenly wanted to include me in his office and more school activities.

I’ve been trying to be low maintenance by being agreeable, cooperative, trying to solve problems on my own, asking for little, making due with what I’ve got, and offering to help in any way.  Nothing remarkable, it’s just what the PC expects.  It’s like a “say yes” policy.  So, in the last 2 weeks, I’ve said yes to doing an oral English evaluation of freshmen in the department, where I learned one student’s brother won a gold metal in ping-pong.  I said yes to being a “question master” in a speech competition, where I also read an Obama speech for students to interpret and I gave an impromptu speech to the audience of 400.  I said yes to using the UN simulation room, where my student practiced speaking into the microphones while the class was filmed. 

This doesn’t mean I’m without problems, challenges, or frustrations; there are many.   But, when I saw my program manager with her physical problems, I felt that whatever I have going on just didn’t seem that important.   

Dragon Scale Stone Forest

At one point, a woman literally lunged forward, grabbed my arm, like we were long lost friends, smiling with the ubiquitous posing-for-photo peace sign at someone in the crowd with a camera.  Everyone was talking at once, pushing in towards us, vying for our attention.  A few Miao women, the local minority, with baskets of their costumes wanted us to pay them for photographs…I’m not sure if they were to wear the costume or if we were.  Others in the group wanted to be our guide and motioned for us to follow. But, mostly we were surrounded by curious tourists who could not believe 4 blondish, blue/green eyed, foreign women were also hiking up the hill.

really?

This weekend was significant for 2 reasons.  The first was I spent the day hiking with sunshine and blue skies during my first weekend excursion away from the city.  The second was I saw a path not to take, for any reason, during my time in China.  Both did by heart and soul much good.

Stephanie put the trip to the small city of Wansheng together, figuring out the bus and hotel.  Of course, we have to check-out and check-in with the Peace Corps Leave Log, according to the “Whereabouts Policy,” including all the details of who, what, when, where, bus numbers, phone numbers, hotel addresses, etc.  If we fail to check-in within 48 hours of our return, then PC will inform Washington, “who will then initiate the Peace Corps’ Worldwide Tracking and Support System.” Ok, avoid that.

early morning fog

Trouble started at the hotel when 4 of us tried to check into a double room, thinking to share beds and save money.  The hotel was much nicer than we expected, a 4 star that costs $48 a night, steep for our budget. One of the girls working the desk spoke pretty good English, so I was explaining that we are volunteer teachers and can’t afford a second room.  Unbelievably, she had just graduated from my university and had had the last PCV as a teacher.  She allowed us to stay in the room.  That’s how guanxi works here.

The next morning we took a mini bus up the mountain to Dragon Scale Stone Forest, Longlinshihai, a small area of the well-known karst topography in China.  These areas are also called “stone forests,” and this one is the oldest in China.

After the rough start to our hike where we had to flee that crush of people, we spent the day exploring, including a short walk through a weirdly lit cave.  We had sun and fresh air and mostly peace and quiet.  Mostly. 

Everywhere we went this weekend, we caused somewhat of a scene, and that caused some stress for us because so much unwanted attention is difficult to ignore, and more difficult to manage.  It’s a no win situation.  If we smile and act like we don’t understand what they are saying, then we hear all sorts of stuff; many just point and laugh and do the usual “HELLO!” If we say we can understand what they are saying, then we get a barrage of questions, over and over and over from taxi drivers, people on the street, while shopping, in restaurants, …everywhere.  Usually, they are super friendly people.

Humor helps. On the bus down the mountain, someone in the front said, “Look 3 foreigners are in the back.”  We yelled back, “There are 4 of us.” 

Ignoring helps. Later in the evening when Christine and I were shopping at a street market, a crowd formed to listen to us talk to the seller in our really limited Chinese.

I was shown what doesn’t help by a volunteer who has been here for a year and takes this unwanted attention personally.  The path I will not take is to respond with impatience, rudeness, or anger.  What I learned this weekend is my stay in China might take an unknown amount of patience and tolerance, and I hope this will not be a great challenge for me.  

the "dragon scale" effect

lunch? PB&J, oh yeah! 

inside the cave

rice terraces

duck on the bus, in a grocery bag