Start of the Semester

Today was my first day of class.

I left the house at 7:08 am to walk three minutes to the front gate where I boarded the school bus, destination, New Campus, a campus 5 km outside of the city in the countryside surrounded by farmland.

It was a wet day, a drizzle in the air. Hopefully if the weather turns for the better, I will be able to ride my bike to new campus twice a week. Today though, I needed a guide to show me my classroom and to show me how to use the equipment.

My new classroom is shiny and new. It is huge with 66 computer screens and 132 stools. It is a listening lab, and I am there to push play.

However, today NONE of my sophomores showed up.

Some kind of mix up?

In China, I live in a world of an infinite number of unknowns. I have learned to just shrug them off and go look for something else to do. I have stopped asking why and have stopped trying to figure things out. Just breathe and move on.

The next school bus wouldn't be leaving until 10 am, so I walked around the campus feeling the atmosphere of freshmen arriving with their one piece of luggage looking for their department's booth, being assigned dorm rooms, and standing in long lines to pay money.

Since my next 4 classes are Freshmen, I have no more classes to teach this week. They don't start till next week.

Will anyone show though?

School starts Monday, but not really

On Monday I will teach my first class of the semester. It is an 8 am listening and speaking class of sophomore non-majors. After that, I will be back to knitting for a week plus lesson planning for the next week. I have four Freshmen listening classes that start one week late and then in October they will have two weeks of military training. I might not see them at all in October since there are rumors of a week long holiday.

I have started knitting knee high socks, a pattern out of the book stitch'n Bitch The Knitter's Handbook.

Some of the most important items to pack for a Peace Corps tour are things to do. Even if they are heavy and if you really believe you will use it, pack it. I packed a heavy knitting book. It has been my first knitting teacher and has provided months of entertainment as I slowly knit up the many projects.

In Africa, I brought boxes of oil pastels and large coarse paper. My walls in Africa become covered with abstract blobs of smeared color.


Peace Corps packing tip: Pack items that will give you something to do for the many hours of free time.

Knitting till school starts

I started a bright green stole, ran out of green, and added some hot pink yarn, but then half-way through a row I started dropping when I should have been knitting. I didn't know how to fix the mistake and just made it worse.

The stitches were a funny droopy, loopy type of stitch that made the stole very holey. The directions for this particular drop stitch were: Act as if you are going to knit one stitch as normal, but instead of just wrapping the yarn around the needle once, wrap it three times!

I was almost done with the warm stole, but decided to rip it out.

So instead I decided to knit some easy dishcloths (Grandmother's Favorite) out of some yarn bought in the USA that a volunteer left me.

et voila
What should I knit next with the bright green yarn? It's color is almost like the green in the dishcloth just a shade darker.

Rainy Days

I have been back at site for a week now and the weather has been terrible!

It is gloomy and dark.
It is rainy and miserable.

I have even had to wear three layers and long socks.

The city is empty of students.
My life is empty of stuff to do.

I had a Wes Anderson marathon, reminded me of the Jim Jarmush, Werner Herzog and Buffy marathons we would have in Seattle.

I finished knitting and felting a bag and have started a holey bright green stole.

Black Sheep Bags: Elizabeth Bag by Julie Anderson

Bike Tour 2010

Since school doesn't start for another two weeks, I wanted to go to Xian, buy a $200 GIANT bike with 24 gears, and bike back to my site, 310 km (286 miles). I had already bought maps and on my way home paid close attention to the 6 hour bus route that was mostly flat except for one part that would be a day of biking up and down. I even saw a biker, his bike loaded back and front with panniers. He was taking a rest along side the road for a bite to eat on a long climb.

However, it is too dangerous according to our safety and security officer to bike alone, and I kind of wonder is it because I am a woman or is it really too dangerous for a biker to bike alone in China?

I had wanted to do a month bike tour in the US after finishing my PhD, but the initial cost of buying a bike and gear was too high plus my parents were not too keen on the idea. Biking alone in the US is dangerous.

I think China is an excellent place to do a bike tour.

Why?

1. Hotels are cheap (less than $20 a room, sometimes even as cheap as $3 a bed)
2. You can buy water at the many little towns that litter the roads.
3. You can eat at cheap restaurants and eat lots of noodles.
4. China is not a car country yet. Everyone doesn't own cars; therefore, the roads are pretty empty.

There are a few disadvantages.

1. Maps are difficult to read because they are labeled with Chinese characters.
2. Rain. It rains a lot.
3. Nice bikes get stolen.

I am hoping to maybe do a bike tour next summer. If you are interested, let me know.

My Day Lost in Translation

At bedtime, I started New Moon by Stephanie Meyer and finished it in the wee hours of the morning. I bought the series as a gift for the English majors who were interested in reading the books after seeing the movie Twilight.

The morning light didn't bother my deep sleep and it wasn' t until 8 am, a late hour for me that I was able to finally pull myself free from my comforter, a warmth to the dreariness of days of rain and gloomy cloud cover. I have only been home two nights, and the darkness is already seeping in.

Rubbing my eyes, I tumbled to the computer looking for something human in the quiet isolation and solitude of living in a country surrounded by people, people who even when they talk to me isolate me more with my inability to connect and understand the language. Within all of the noise, my soul feels the deepness of the silence.

Dishes were washed.
Chicken was cut.
Spinach and cilantro were soaked.
Clothes were agitated by the machine.
A soup was made and eaten as breakfast.
Summer fashions were rinsed.
Wrung out and hung by hand.
Will the gray dry them?
One ball of yarn was knitted through.
Soup was heated and eaten as lunch.
A nap was taken.
Red tea was sipped and See's Candy was bitten into.

The movie Lost in Translation was watched in 2 minute chunks.
Streaming was slow today.
Wait two minutes.
Click play.
Watch two minutes.
Wait. Click. Watch. Wait. Click. Watch.
Didn't even get to finish it when the website cut out.

Water and spinach was added.
Soup was eaten for dinner.
Another ball finished.
Another yarn ball added.
Music was listened to.

Who will break my fall? -Brandi Carlile

Home Sweet Home

After 42 days of being on the road and living out of a backpack that could fit under the seat of a bus or train, I am back to the comforts of my tiny traditional Gansu city. As soon as I stepped off the bus, the cold air and drizzle of winter hit me. I guess I will have to put away all of my newly bought ethnic summer skirts, dresses, and tank tops purchased from the muggy south.

Now though I can put on a kettle of hot water, turn on the DVD player and watch whatever I want, Blood: The Last Vampire is first on my list. Now I can surf the internet as long as I want without having to be quick because of the waiting line of foreigners. Now I can wake up as early as I want without bothering the people I am sharing a hostel room with as I climb down the wobbly ladder of a bunk bed. I sometimes got up at 5 am to take a walk in the morning air escaping from the heat. Now I can finally use facebook, blogger, and youtube. If you want to find out how, find a way to contact me.

Top Three Things About Being Home

1. Living in the comforts of familiarity

Traveling, I am always on the border of "being lost." It is an adventure exploring a city for one's needs and desires, but it is nice to be back to a place where I know how to do things.

2. My flat

I love my apartment, the conveniences of it and the solitude in it. Plus, I have a ton of unread books about topics I like to read about like gender, alternative relationships, and other issues that cannot be discussed freely in my traditional city. Lucky for me a good friend who I met in Guinea sent me a heavy birthday present.

3. Knitting

With the cold weather fast approaching, I finally can take out my knitting needles again, finish halfway done projects and start new ones. A PCV who recently COS'd left me yarn and Caitlin's mother left me a gift of yarn, requesting I try to knit a sweater.

Bottom Three Things About Being Home

1. Noodles

Even with 42 days away from noodles, I am still tired of noodles. Down South, in Kaifeng and even in Tianshui they had the best street food and savory rice dishes.

2. Housework

I need to do laundry, fix my sofa, and probably dust and mop the floor.

3. No more clothes shopping

After traveling, I have realized that my city has hugely overpriced clothes! It was fun shopping in the bigger cities because items were so cheap. My city doesn't have a train station; therefore, the expensive cost of transportation is included in the prices.

As you may have noticed I haven't mentioned anything about students or being back at school. Well school hasn't started yet and won't until the first of September. Also, I might not start till the end of September since Freshmen have to do military training. Students and teaching are not on my mind yet. I am still on summer holiday. Soon though back to the grindstone....

A Blooming Wallflower

Living abroad has made me afraid of foreigners. This week the Xian hostel where I am staying is full of French speaking people. I have running conversations in my head, but am unable to open my mouth.

While living in the states, I was working on my fear of talking to strangers and was working on my dislike for small talk. I practiced weekly by talking to people and forcing myself to say something rather than just people watch and just sit silent among a group of socialites. By making a conscious effort to turn into a social butterfly, I was becoming less of a wallflower.

But Africa and China have made me afraid of people.

In Africa, whenever I stayed at the Peace Corps houses, I always felt the loneliest amongst Americans. I think living in the isolation of a foreign language and a foreign community makes me more comfortable with the silence of an observing loner.

On the train I was silent. The people on the train thought I was Vietnamese and didn't know any Chinese. I discovered this when a brave man who had been staring at me the whole train ride tried to break the ice by handing me a ripped snippet of a Vietnamese newspaper. I promptly replied in my skeletal Chinese that I was American with Chinese heritage. The ice was broken. We had a nice conversation about why I don't speak Chinese better and about my family background.

In the hostel, I am silent. I have lost my ability to socialize in English. Plus right now I have a bad case of hives which makes me feel like a walking contagious disease. I am too afraid to make contact with people and scare them away with my skin condition. In Chinese though I can talk for as long as the other person is interested and patient enough to use simple Chinese. Mostly though I hide.

I am a growing wallflower who is preparing to buy a good bike and go on a 4-5 day silent retreat, biking alone the 240 miles between Xian and Xifeng in preparation for a 2 month bike tour I'd like to take next summer. I have to work on my travel and bike vocabulary. Maybe I can write a zine, A Guide to Biking in Gansu: Useful Chinese phrases included.

Sleep with Never-ending Interruptions

Unable to get a sleeper car for my 34 hour train ride from Nanning to Xian, I had a hard seat for the whole way. The train is a tight space, a narrow aisle with no leg room. Seats face each other and your legs bump into the person who is sitting across from you. All four or six of you share a table. Since I sat on the aisle, one would think I could stretch out except people were always moving down the aisle!

As soon as it got dark I was ready to try to fall asleep, to sleep away some of the hours of the 34 hour trip. As soon as I'd almost be asleep, my neck would snap down and I would almost fall off the seat. I'd doze again, but then the hot food 15 RMB meal cart would pass. I'd doze again, but then the magazine cart would pass. I'd doze again, then the 10 RMB meal cart would pass. I'd move out of the way not to be hit. I'd doze again, then the fruit seller would come by, then the packaged food and drink cart, then the 5 RMB meal cart. I'd be almost asleep and then all of those carts would come back again after making their way to the last train car.

I'd almost be dead to the world when the movie guy with DVD players to rent would go yelling by. Next the toothbrush seller, then the bright light and singing toy top seller, then the gold card with a fortune written on it seller, a seller who had a 10 minute speech and would shush anyone who was talking or making noise. Because the people I sat with had money, they stopped every seller to buy something. These people were the ones who wanted to buy a hard sleeper bed, but who had been denied. They had extra money to spend and bought everything. Our tight space became even tighter with the extra person and their goods. My head would snap into the backside of the seller. My feet would kick the seller's basket of goods. People don't just buy and go. No, buying was a long process at least 10 minutes as questions were asked and colors of toothbrushes were inspected and bargaining and small talk comments were given.

I could get 5 minutes of shut eye before I was disturbed again.

As the summer holiday comes to an end, China's population is rearranging itself. Millions of students board trains sometimes with their parents and extended family. Whenever we stopped at a railroad station, a ton of people would climb on all looking for an empty seat on a train that had been standing room only since 3 hours after we departed Nanning. The aisles would fill and my leg room would disappear. Next the ladies with plastic stools for $1 would come by, something else to fill the aisles with.

As things started to calm down and as I started to think maybe the lights would go out since it was 11 pm, 3 cell phones started playing loud annoying music, speakers that crackle due to the poor quality and excessive volume. I stuffed ear plugs into my ears. The clack of the train tracks and people's loud conversations died out leaving the 3 cell phones and their music loud as day, a mixture of 3 melodies mushed together into chaos.

The next thing to interrupt my sleep was a gang of 6 train conductors bullying their way down the full lanes asking in mean voices to see everyone's ticket.

Finally at midnight, things started to calm down. People pulled down curtains and put them on the dirty floor. They crawled under the seats, their knees and shoes visible in the aisles, road bumps for the selling carts. Maybe now the carts would stop passing by. As I slouched down and stretched out my legs hoping not to be interrupted again, I started to doze off. Quiet finally existed in the terribly noisy night when the woman across from me turned on her cell phone, full blast, Bryan Adams, a lullaby, I could not fall asleep too.

34 hour Train and No sleepers

I arrived in Nanning last night after a 9 hour bus ride from Hanoi. I stopped at the train station and there were only hard seats, no sleepers, not until the 22nd. I can't stay in Nanning till the 22nd. So I bought the cheap $42 ticket and will be sitting on a train for the next 34 hours to Xian! I will leave today at noon and should arrive at 10 pm.

I am off to Wal-Mart to buy food for the train ride.

Volunteer turned Tourist

As soon as I arrived in Hanoi, I was off to mini rock islands. Kyan's volunteer group (VIA) had bought a one night tour package to Halong Bay. We were to sleep on a boat and the cost would be $40.

The American dollar no longer has any meaning for me. I no longer understand the worth of dollars. Living abroad has totally warped my idea of what a $1 can buy.

I expected broken down buses to drive us to the boat. I expected the boat to be a big ugly piece of junk, big sails, and gross toilets. They'd probably give us bamboo mats as beds to lie upon the deck at night. There would probably be no shade except for a big blue tarp over an area of the most uncomfortable wooden benches. I had no idea how we'd get food, stranded on a boat. Maybe we would stock up at little stores before boarding. That's what we do when taking an overnight train. I imagined a primitive experience, one a little better than Africa. Maybe there wouldn't be any livestock that we'd have to share sleeping quarters with.

Instead $40 bought us a posh trip, not the most luxurious for those with money but extremely luxurious for this Peace Corps volunteer who has been roughing it for the past 3 years.

The four hour bus ride was air conditioned and they even had 1 bathroom break. I have never been on a 4 hour bus trip with a bathroom break. In this extremely touristy area we stopped at a tourist trap full of over-priced food and souvenirs, a place full of foreigners, so I guess it really wasn't a bathroom break, but a separate you from your money break.

At the dock we boarded a fancy boat that was on the border of being run down; however, it was still pretty luxurious. There was a dining cabin with fans blowing and a 5 course meal waiting for us. I was still uncertain though, assuming the worse, but every assumption that I had about roughing it was dashed. There were western toilets. There were even cabins with 2 beds, a fan, plus an air conditioner, and a private bathroom. The next surprise were two tour stops that were free. We got to see some caves and rock formations and then got to go kayaking.

It wasn't all luxurious. We slept upstairs on the top deck under the stars and in the salty air coz the sleeping cabin stank. Even with stinky rooms and roaches, I felt like I had moved from being poor to being one of the rich and famous.

When we got back to shore they tried to stuff 25 people onto a bus. It felt very African; however, even though there were 25 seats there was not enough room. Foreigners pack bags the size of middle school students. The tour guide was trying to separate a father from his family. Kyan and I jumped off and gave up our seats. Traveling abroad one learns that everything will work out. Even in a city full of tour scams and broken contracts, we didn't get cheated when we left our tour group and our receipt, the only evidence of payment behind. We arrived safely back at the hotel, 30 minute tour trap bathroom break included.

I came to the conclusion that living the lifestyle of the rich and famous is nice but not really for me. Give me a map and good walking shoes. That is the type of tourist I am. I prefer experiencing local color rather than buying a luxurious western experience to see some famous site.

Pictures taken by Kyan. (My camera is broken.)

One reason I live abroad: Food

In Xifeng, China there are tiny one room restaurants or outdoor pushcarts; however, in Hanoi, food is on the streets. It is shoved around light posts, nestled between parked motos, found in dark alleyways, and pushed up against outdoor walls. Women sit with their kitchens at their feet, a hot pot of boiling water over a short gas stove beside them, a table full of sauces, spices, and ingredients in front of them. Boys run from other alleyways bringing ice cold clear yellow drinks served in tall glasses. People sit on tiny stools barely a foot off the ground or they sit lined up on stoops sitting on the ledge of an outdoor wall. Sometimes there are tables and sometimes there aren't.

I have eaten rice with green veggies and patties of seafood or a slice of a caramelized fish with big bones. I have had green papaya salad and bowls of noodles in a light soup. I have had fishy dumplings and soups packed with green leaves. I have bitten into baguettes full of omlettes, beets, radishes, and cucumber. The food is sometimes deep fried or lightly boiled and stir-fried, tasty with light clear colored sweet spicy sauces that are like fragrant dressings topped with fresh cilantro, mint, and other strong flavored greens, making a meal refreshing and cool compared to heavy and hot. The meat though is GROSS! It is all types of preserved meat in the forms of salted meat, sausage and jerky. There is no freshly cooked meat pulled out of cold refrigerators. I would likely turn vegetarian in Hanoi's streets.

Pictures taken by Kyan.

Sitting upstairs in.....

A very modern outdoor cafe

With a cool breeze blowing the mugginess off my sticky skin, I sat above a 5 way intersection illuminated by the neon lights of western restaurants and cafes. There is a continuous hum of moto after moto flowing through the streets of Hanoi with an occasional beep as one wave meets another, the weaving in and out of the chaotic slow-moving two wheelers expertly never hitting the people who also need to cross or barely missing the balloon woman standing in the middle of the street. I am sipping a dark bitter ice cold Vietnamese coffee not sweetened enough by the white condensed milk. The ice melts and dilutes the mixture into a drinkable concoction that maybe won't leave a thick coated icky after-taste on the back of my tongue.

Hanoi is a city that never stops, that is always moving, a city where you can't sleepwalk a second or else from an unexpected direction a dangerous vehicle will barely and miraculously just miss you, saving you from injury. This city no longer has bicycles. Motos have replaced bikes and moto parking lots have replaced sidewalks. Skinny families of 4 sit straddled on the long saddles, and children stand sandwiched between fathers and mothers.

To be a pedestrian just go and walk across the street. As long as there are no wide cars, the motos will swerve to avoid you. Walk with a confident constant stride. The drivers are anticipating your step. To hesitate may be fatal. In this city of constant movement hopefully you will only meet beeping horns and good brakes.

Pictures taken by Kyan.

Where am I?

Today I am in Hanoi, Vietnam.

After a two week summer project teaching middle and primary school English teachers in Gansu, I started my trek down South towards Nanning. The 34 hour train trip was luxurious with its air condition and beds. I only had two nights and one day on the train. Often foreigners love train rides since it gives them a chance to talk to local people and get to experience the local flavor of public transportation. For me the 6 people sharing my train space were completely silent. They didn't talk to each other. They didn't talk to me.

In a few words, the train ride was an enjoyable solitary, silent, meditative retreat.

I arrived in Nanning at 5 am and sat at the outdoor benches in the quiet dark train station until the sun rose watching the police walk around waking up anyone who was using the benches as a bed. Even though I had very specific directions for the only hostel in Nanning, I didn't want to wander a new city in the dark.

Lotusland is in a good location and the hostel staff was able to get my Vietnam visa in 3 days. The place is expensive. Ten dollars for a bed compared to $3 beds in Xian; however, they took care of my visa which was one stress I didn't have to worry about. Living abroad for 3 years, I have learned not to trust deadlines and was greatly surprised that a 3 day visa meant 3 days.

I spent the three days in Nanning walking the streets in the morning and sitting in air conditioned shopping malls during the hot humid hours. I declined to see the new Harry Potter movie just because it was so expensive. Nanning is a city that has been flattened, almost all of its old buildings gone, replaced with a modern China. Even the green parts on the map that I took a bus too were modern, no longer old ancient parks but modern golf courses instead.

I took a luxurious air conditioned 8 hour bus ride from Nanning to Hanoi where the border crossing was easy even with the lack of lines and order on the Vietnam side. Arriving in Hanoi, I got ripped off by the taxi driver. I was charged twice the fare to go to the hotel where my friend from Peace Corps Guinea was staying. I hate being fresh bait, a newcomer to a city, but have learned how to find peace in being taken advantage of. It happens. There is no point in getting all angry and upset about it.

Vietnam is so different from China. The French influence is seen in the architecture and actually Vietnam reminds me of West Africa. France left a legacy of baguettes and coffee houses in both places.

Plane or Train?

I am going to Nanning soon. The train ride is rumored to be 34 hours. A sleeper train car is like a moving hostel or prison on wheels since you can't leave your room. Thankfully the train leaves at night, so about 20 hours will be spent sleeping. What will I do during the day? As a person who has always been tormented with motion sickness, reading is not an option. I guess I will practice Chinese, listen to music, watch the scenes go by, and fan myself silly to keep cool.

Or, should I take a plane?

The plane trip is rumored to be a 4 hour flight with one stop; however, it costs $40 more than the train ticket. $40 is nothing in America. $40 in China is a ton of money. With $40 I can pay for about 5 nights in a hostel in Nanning.

Even though I am an American, with an American bank account that has some money in it leftover from a partial readjustment allowance payment from Peace Corps for my first two years in Africa, I feel an urge to travel frugally and experience the life of an unmarried Chinese teacher who has some money to travel with.

Therefore, I will take the train. Will I regret it by the end of the trip?

Summer Project

To friends and family,

If you are interested in seeing a few low resolution pictures from my most recent trip to Kaifeng, Henan, the yellow river, the mountains above Shaolin Temple, the Taihang mountains, please send me an email. Since I am still travelling and am using internet bars, I am having trouble loading pictures to a web photo album.


Summer project is going well.

We have finished one week of teaching middle school English teachers. Our objective, requested by the Chinese organizers was to help improve their confidence in speaking English; however, we changed it a bit as we met our students and learned what our students wanted: teaching methods, pronunciation, and American culture.

I think the weakness of the summer project is the large number of unknowns: number of students, students' English level, and what they want to learn from us. We fly by the seat of our pants and cannot really prepare very well for it in advance.

We are a bit exhausted not used to teaching a 40-50 hour week compared to our university work week of 12-20 hours.

Tomorrow we start a new week with new teachers. These teachers will be primary school teachers. We are back to the world of unknowns. What is their English level? We have heard that many of the teachers are not college educated. What do the students want to learn? Their English level will determine whether or not we can meet their requests. It would be really hard to have discussions about teaching ideas and methods if we can't communicate.

Anyways, the unknowns will be known tomorrow and we have a 3 hour lunch break to throw something together as we learn more.

Holiday

Today I am off on my month and a half vacation, so I don't know how often I will be able to blog.

First stop, Henan Province to a city called Kai Feng.
Second stop, Tianshui for a two week summer project.
Next stops, a bit up in the air at the moment, depending on funds.

Why give away a baby?

Why would a Taiwanese mother in the 1970's give up a daughter for adoption?

Lately, I have been asking my students why would my birthmother give up a daughter for adoption?

Growing up with an American culture I had my own theories and assumptions:
1. My birthmother was a teenage unmarried girl who could not take care of a baby.
2. My birthmother was a prostitute.
3. Abortion was illegal.

However, hearing my students' points of view has been very eye-opening.

Often families will try to have at least one boy. The reason some families are so big is because they have three girls while trying to a have a boy. It is not uncommon for these girls to be given to other families. Some of my female students talk about the distress they felt when they heard stories of their grandparents wanting their parents to give them away to another family because they couldn't afford a 2nd or 3rd mouth to feed plus try to have a boy. So maybe I was the first, second, or third daughter and the family wanted a boy.

My brother is also adopted. Why would a Taiwanese mother give up a precious baby boy for adoption?

My students said that maybe he was the third son and the family was too poor to take care of him.

Maybe his mother was a teenager. In China it is very taboo to be unmarried and pregnant. My students told me a story that happened a couple of years ago about a college girl who got pregnant and the leaders of the school wouldn't give her the college diploma.

According to my students answers, I think the three main reasons mothers give up babies in China are:

1. too poor to afford another mouth to feed
2. teenage pregnancy
3. want to have a boy

I am not American.

In my little city, I am known as the translator of the American who teaches at Longdong College.

How does that make me feel? How does not being American, not being the special foreigner make me feel? Do I feel the urge to SHOUT it out to the world that I AM AMERICAN! Stop having Chinese expectations about me. Stop expecting me to speak fluent Chinese. Stop expecting me to translate my friend's Chinese pronunciation. Stop laughing at my manly Chaco sandals that are not the dainty high heels that all the females wear. In the winter, stop wondering if I am a man or a woman.

The thing is I don't mind being the weird Chinese person who wears African clothes, manly clothes and hair. I don't mind being the old spinster who still hasn't gotten married. (Chinese women get married at 24. After that, they start getting too old to attract any males.) I don't mind being the Chinese person with excellent English.

I don't feel this strong urge to force people to acknowledge that I am American. I don't mind blending in.

I do mind though having restrictions put on me because I am female. "Travelling alone is too dangerous for females." This past school year, my travel has been restricted because I want to travel alone; however, I am kind of suspicious that it might be an indirect no. Maybe they don't want me to travel during the school year since for my summer plans of travelling to Vietnam alone, they had no problems with it. Indirect communication is sometimes difficult for us Americans to understand.

I don't mind superficially being known as a Chinese person; however, when it comes to more complicated inter-cultural issues, I am American. That is when I need understanding on the Chinese side that I am not Chinese but a foreigner.

You are Chinese. No I'm not.

What is it like being Chinese American in China? Is it challenging? Is it frustrating? Does it make things easier?

Often as we sit outside under a big red umbrella drinking beer and milk tea, people ask, "Where are you from?"

I can never say I am American, and if the white American who I hang with all of the time points at me and says, "American," my American friend is corrected, "No. She is Chinese." We have both learned how to say the Chinese phrase, "American with Chinese heritage." That people will agree with.

I have gotten pretty good at explaining my adoption story in simple Chinese phrases.
I have two mothers.
One Chinese mother and one white American mother.
My Chinese mother didn't have any money.
She gave me to the American mother.

(Notice I do not use the phrase Taiwanese mother; although, once they know I am Chinese American they now want to know where my ancestors are from. I say Taiwan and that is no problem.)

Sometimes I am much more of a curiosity than my white American friend. Often I will be the center of attention while my white American friend sits there looking lonely nursing a beer as a flurry of Chinese is directed at me. Because of course since I am American with Chinese heritage I can speak Chinese. After they realize that my Chinese is a bit limited, they point at Caitlin and start asking questions about her and finally ask, "Can she understand Chinese?"

At restaurants I am always given the menu, but I do not study written Chinese. I push the menu towards Caitlin coz she studies written Chinese and can probably read at least 100 characters now. But then as soon as she opens her mouth to order, the waitress looks at me. I repeat the exact phrase that was just said and sometimes we get some food. Other times, we sit there repeating and repeating and repeating until eventually they figure it out. I bet they are wondering, what kind of Chinese is that Chinese person speaking? But actually they probably don't even think about it because China is full of so many dialects. Often people don't understand each other especially people from other regions.

In the Treehouse, an English resource center, I can often sit inconspicuously in the corner, while a non-major comes in and bombards Caitlin with a desire to speak English. That is sometimes nice getting a break from trying to understand limited broken English.

In Xian, a big tourist center, we often hope just my quiet muted presence will get us a reasonable price to start bargaining down rather than exuberant prices that have like a 300% markup. I always hope that my Chinese skin doesn't get me terribly ripped off and maybe I trust it a bit too much. I should rely more on bargaining skills which I still have not perfected even after years of living in Africa. But come on, how are we suppose to know what the good price is to even bargain for? The other day I wanted to buy a tank top. The first price given was $25. I think tank tops should be a $1, but clothes in China especially in some stores are super expensive. Wal-Mart is cheaper than Chinese clothing stores!

So what is it like being Chinese American in China?

It is interesting. I have different stories to tell than other Americans in China, and actually, now that I think about it me being the Chinese American sidekick might make it more frustrating for my sitemate. For me though, having Caitlin as a sidekick, makes things easier, hanging out with the white chick brings me face. Travelling alone this summer might be quite frustrating.

Party Planner: Pictures Included

One big difference between organizing parties in China and in America is the amount of time and types of activities one should plan. In America, you plan the menu of a dinner party and then let the guests drink wine and entertain themselves with conversations. In China parties and outings are filled with planned activities and they last for HOURS! I have been invited on 6 hour outings where you eat a meal, then play a couple of hours of Mahjong and then go on a long walk in the nearby park. I have been on 6 hour dinner parties where you first eat a banquet and then do a fun activity like karaoke.

So planning an appreciation party for our students who volunteered in the English resource center was a big challenge coz they are expecting to spend several hours playing games and eating. It is like planning a Chucky Cheese outing or a skating rink birthday party. Last semester we played white elephant, but it didn't last very long. That party was too short.

This semester because it is warm we planned an outdoor party and ate watermelon and cake at the back gate picnic tables. But what game? What form of entertainment?

We sent the students on a 40 minute photo scavenger hunt. It took the pressure off of us of having to entertain them for hours.

The students LOVED it!

Each team had a list that asked them to take pictures of

5 people jumping (the students thought this was SUPER fun trying to capture 10 feet off the ground)
5 shirtless boys (they tried to get the basketball players, but no one was willing to take off their shirts)
A boy with two earrings (because one earring was too small, they switched the small one with a big girly one)
2 people kissing (impossible)
A picture of chairman Mao
3 or more people riding a bike (the students staged this)
A child eating ice cream (The students made one little boy cry who didn't want his picture taken, but then found one girl who was very cooperative. The teams found the same girl. One team's picture had a non-eaten ice cream. The other team had a half-eaten ice cream.)
20 victory signs (Taught the students how to organize 20 people or 10 people if they were smart)
An old couple holding hands (This was challenging and taught the students persuasive skills. The older couple was extremely shy and said, “We have never done this before.”)
And a bunch more….

This was a super fun game for the students creating an activity that they can tell stories about to their roommates and classmates. It is hard living on a little campus where everyone knows everyone, where everyone is doing the same thing, where gossip has been repeated a million times. Stories become few.

Try a scavenger hunt if you are looking for a fun activity to share with your students.
Try a scavenger hunt if you just want an hour of chill time while waiting for your students to come back.
Try a scavenger hunt if you are trying to plan a Chinese party. Our party lasted 2 hours, a record for us.


If you want to see some pictures from one of the two teams, email me. In each photo is one of our students. One of the rules was to be in the picture with the found item.

Streets and streets full of shop windows

One thing that I don't like is the constant bombardment of shop windows filled with female mannequins dressed in the latest Chinese fashion. Every time I leave my house, I am in a shopping mall. It is worse than TV advertisements. I feel this great need to buy, buy, and buy some more fashionable clothes or at least get some tailored made since the clothes here don't fit me. But, I don't want a wardrobe full of hardly worn clothes. I prefer wearing the same outfit over and over again until the stink has to be washed out. Yet, every day, I think of something new that I think I need, need because I see it in a shop window.

Tomorrow I guess I will head to the tailor and put in an order for a summer wrap skirt, ankle length. (I am still not over 2 years of modestly covering up in West Africa. No knee high skirts for me even though I see them everywhere here in China. I even see short shorts worn over tights or short shorts worn with pretty strappy sandals with ankle high nylon socks.)

I have no self control. ugh!

First of hopefully many more overnight bike trips

As a Peace Corps volunteer, one must get approval from one's school for any trips away from site. My school gave me a very definite direct NO. Their reason was it is too dangerous and too far. But then Peace Corps called them and lo and behold, I got approval. My depression instantly turned into joy.

In China, ups and downs come very sudden and often come at the very last moment possible. A yes can turn into a no an hour before you are ready to leave. A no can turn into a yes the night before your trip. A command, "Come to this meeting," can be given 5 minutes before the start of the meeting. Remember the Peace Corps mantra, "Be flexible."

Xifeng to Heshui
Distance 54 km (one way)

To Heshui 4 hours
Highlights: Racing down a HUGE winding mountain praying that my brakes would hold.

Surprise in Heshui: As I was wandering the one street city, I decided to check out the bus station and lo and behold I ran into one of my students. The world is small.

Difficulty in Heshui: I woke up at 4:30 am ready to get on the road as the world becomes light around 5 am, but I was locked in. It took me 20 minutes to wake up the desk manager who had to check my room for any damages in order to give me back my 100 RMB deposit. Then she had to wake the gate keeper to let me out. I was on the road by 5:10 am.

Back home 5 hours
Highlights: Pushing my bike 45 minutes up the HUGE winding mountain praying that two trucks wouldn't come at the same moment.

Biking on pavement even with the one gear bike is faster than biking on a 21 speed mountain bike on dirt roads in Africa. I miss biking for long distances. Riding through the empty streets at 5 am this morning reminded me of the many trips in Guinea.

Enjoy the few pictures.

China

Do I need a vacation from China?

Do you think there is a phenomenon called culture fatigue?

As the semester comes to an end and as I wait in purgatory, waiting to hear when our summer teaching project will start, I am tired, exhausted kind of.

I don't have much work.
I am not teaching anymore.
I finished grading my seniors' finals.
Now I am waiting for my freshmen to take their finals.

The sun is shining and I have plenty of lovely chill moments eating watermelon at the outdoor stand, hanging out at the local shou kou (BBQ) garden and going on bike rides in the countryside.

So why am I tired?

Even though I don't have any official school work, maybe I am always on, always working because I live in another culture. Even though I feel I am settled into my Chinese community, maybe it takes work to actually just live here: working through the cultural differences, always talking in another language, working to understand the various nuances of this culture, often being the center of attention, and having one's expectations dashed.

These past weeks have been a struggle. My sitemate and I pushed hard to go to Tianshui, got permission, and then had our passports taken away. We have met new people and try to figure out what their body language means, their tough attitudes. We have had day long outings with colleagues and their families which was relaxing but also tiring, spending a lot of time socializing and speaking Chinese. I spent a couple of days grading finals with so many copied verbatim answers for the writing essays and for the independent study. We spent a couple of days trying to crack the department's rules and regulations about cheating, about whether or not we can fail seniors who didn't make a 60 on their finals, and about what type of format to submit grades.

Is there a way to rest from culture fatigue?

Cheating, Dust, and the Military

I am in a funk.

Summer has arrived and school is coming to an end so I should be in a happy mood, instead I am in a funk: a funk in teaching, a funk in cleaning my house, a funk in thinking about my life and future.

I just finished grading my first senior literature final and will have another senior literature final to grade tonight. Then I will have a week off before grading my freshmen finals.

Grading and catching cheaters is one of the worse parts of being a teacher. I hate realizing at the end of the semester that my class actually had 32 students instead of the 22 who came regularly. I hate failing students but what can I do when they don't score well on the final even with their cheat sheets and their pencil written essays on their desktops almost invisible even to them which is why it was easy to catch. Why was she staring so hard at her desk and not her test paper?

There were several students who did extremely well on the final. I am not out to get students or to fail them. My tests are what I teach. But if they don't come to class, what can I do other than hope that they have good friends who take good notes or are really good cheaters. Today in class I caught 2 cheat sheets with tiny writing on them and 2 more sheets with the multiple choice answers. Multiple choice is so easy to grade, but so easy to cheat on especially if you can't have A/B tests. With cheating I would rather just not know about it.

My house is a mess. I try to sweep and mop everyday, but all of the windows are open because it is hot. Dust fills the apartment, not as bad as in Africa. Here in my Chinese apartment, there is so MUCH MORE stuff to get dusty compared to my African two room one car garage. Also, is it me or is it because I am a teacher that my house is full of papers and junk? I need to get rid of everything.

One more year and my Peace Corps service will be over, truly over. No more extending or transferring anymore. At four years, I think Peace Corps will kick me out. Plus I am getting old. Maybe it is time to think about earning some money before I am too old.

What am I going to do when I leave Peace Corps?

Try to find a job in China?
I think I need to make some money. In China I could possibly make about $800 a month and after living on $100 a month on the PC stipend, I know I could save a lot. But I am tired of teaching. An unmotivated teacher does a lot of harm to her students. I don't want to be that teacher.

Go back to school?
I was glad when I finished 10 years of a university education. I hate tests. They stress me out a LOT coz I am a high achiever and study too much! Plus the applications? The worrying about how to pay for it? Going into debt when I have been debt free my whole life? I don't know. It sounds like a hassle.

Join the military?
I enjoy physical and life changing challenges. It would be an adventure and I would get paid doing it. The only thing I worry about is being placed in a job that I hate and having to endure it for four years.

Get a job in the USA?
I am reading a book The Working Poor. It is so discouraging!

So there you have it. My options with none of them seeming to be really that great.

Yep, I am in a funk.

Although even in a funk, there are still beautiful bits:

Long bike rides on flat roads in the almost car-less countryside

Sitting on a bench in the back gate eating watermelon as the Chinese fashion show walks by accompanied by the cutest babies and smiling children

Eating 4 sticks of fatty delicious grilled lamb in the setting sunlight

Am I too cautious about men?

In America, I was afraid of male strangers who started conversations with me in public places like bars, dance clubs, buses, coffee shops, and restaurants. They were strangers and so I didn't trust them. Plus in American culture, if a guy starts talking to you then it can often be assumed that they are trying to hit on you. I hate being hit on. I was very good at putting up a cold wall, deterring any strangers from talking to me. Also, in America I had a better intuition about the intentions of a stranger talking to me, an ability to tell the difference between a guy hitting on me versus a guy who is just being friendly, trying to make friendly small talk.

In China, I am still afraid of male strangers, but for different reasons:

1. language barrier
My limited language skills are not strong enough to really understand what is being said nor to infer what type of intentions the strangers have. As a trusting foreigner, it seems to me that strangers are really hospitable, offering free drink and food in an innocently, friendly, exchange for a special evening with foreigners.

2. me being in the dark about male female dynamics in Chinese culture
I know nothing about the dynamics between males and females in China. Do strangers hit on girls? What does it mean for a female to drink with male strangers? Is it all innocent fun? What assumptions do Chinese men have about foreign women? Is it strange for a 55 year old man to talk to young women?

3. I look Chinese
Because I look Chinese, the expectations and assumptions about me are probably different than for a woman who looks like she is from a foreign country. I don't know what these expectations or assumptions are. I can get into trouble assuming that people will treat me like the foreigner who gets special treatment.

4. cultural differences
In Africa many men were married or had a girlfriend. Many of them tried to catch a girl's attention, lots of cat calls and cheating on their spouses. I felt it was important to dress very conservatively and be seen as married, a coping method against all of the men who would have wanted me to be their wife/girlfriend. In China, I don't know what the cultural differences are; therefore, I don't know how to apply a coping method to what strangers may or may not be assuming or expecting from me. Is their offer of beer, food and conversation just friendliness? Or is there something behind their offer?

5. drinking
Many men drink a LOT and get drunk and loud. There are two very popular drinking games, a dice game, and a shouting match at guessing the correct number that is thrown out using hand signals. Even rock, paper, scissors is a drinking game. Losers drink beer out of a shot glass. I have seen so many fights and people yelling at each other. I have seen beer bottles smashed over each other's heads and blood pouring down faces and out of ears. Drunk strangers scare me.

In America I am wary of strangers who are men.

In China, I don't know what I should feel about strangers who are men. This uncertainty and non-cultural understanding on my part makes me super cautious and a party pooper who goes home early. I just don't trust myself in this culture that I do not understand yet. I feel a false sense of security. I feel Chinese men are non-aggressive, friendly, curious and hospitable when it comes to foreign women. But maybe there are unseen dangers that I am unaware of. Or maybe I am just letting my fears of American and African male strangers make wrong assumptions about male strangers in China. Maybe I am just an anxiety driven worrywart and shouldn't worry. Maybe I should just be socially friendly and accept men's kindness and hospitality.

Saturday Morning

At 6 am this morning I ran through empty streets while holding my breath every time I passed the dust cloud of street sweepers dressed in their orange vests and black mouth covers. I ran to our local park which has a 25 cent entry fee except in the mornings when it is free. Loud techno music was blaring from this park and elderly people were dancing. With my fingers in my ears I ran past them hoping for a more quiet moment in the park that has a large man made lake with pretty bridges and amusement park rides. As the techno music dimmed, I felt like I had entered a Disney wildlife adventure ride where speakers blare the sounds of the animals. But it wasn't speakers, it was 20 people exercising their vocal cords, loud shouts and extended notes very primal sounds.

After a 50 minute run I played a bit of basketball, but only played three games. 10 baskets win each game. Then I went to the back gate and got a bowl of red bean porridge with long deep fried bread that you dip into the porridge. I sat down and then a couple of students sat down with me, getting their morning breakfast before a 3.5 hour lecture on linguistics. It really is a pleasant way to spend a morning, joining in the community of early risers.

Endure Pain to Withdraw Money

Today I went on a 40 minute run around the city block, only one half of the whole city. I was looking for money. I passed two banks where there weren't any cash machines except inside. Only able to get money when the bank is open. So after 35 minutes of running in a drizzle, I found one of my bank's outdoor cash machines.

I pushed my card in and the machine shocked me, a low voltage murmur that ran through my arm to my elbow, nothing like the electric fences that my brother and I used to dare each other to touch. When I keyed in my password, no shock. When I pressed the yes buttons near the screen, shock shock shock. Boy, that bank really doesn't want you to have any of their money. But I think they have to up the voltage if they want to keep people from withdrawing cash. The desire for money was worth the pain of the shock treatment.

Must Have Quick Hands When Buying Veggies

Unlike the US where you take your vegetables and fruit to be weighed at the checkout counter, in China the checkout ladies ONLY scan and punch in numbers. They don't weigh anything. If you go up to the checkout counter with a bunch of bagged veggies without a scan label, you are out of luck and must return to the produce section where there is ONE lady weighing ALL of the vegetables that the HUGE population of Chinese people are eating. This lady stands at her electric weight machine punching in vegetable numbers. The machine spits out a sticker and she sticks it on your vegetable. Around this lady is a mass of 10-20 people all wanting to have their bags of vegetables weighed. There is NO order!

Follow this procedure when trying to get your veggies weighed:
1. Push your way through the crowd so that you are in a hands reach of the machine.
2. Have both hands free so you can put a vegetable on, and take a vegetable off.
3. Have quick hands and put your vegetable on the machine before the next person.
3. Don't get mad if someone has quicker hands than you.
4. Get ready to place your next vegetable on.
5. Continue until all of your vegetables have been weighed and priced.

Best of luck. Or just go to the grocery store during nap time when no one is trying to buy vegetables for lunch or dinner.

This Moment's Breath

In a tall glass tumbler
steam rises
loose leaf tea leaves
open
in a trail of rustic sweetness
fall
float their way
like the slow motion of a lava lamp
steeped to a rich red chestnut
a peaceful drink of patience
in the morning sunlight

Flying by the seat of one's pants

I had an excellent lesson plan prepared for today's Audio, Watching, and Listening Class that takes place in a multi-media room where every two students get their own computer screen and earphones. I was going to show the movie Whale Rider and have the students think about leadership and gender.

The American bought disk would not play on the computer!

What did I do?
Send the students home early?

I ran to my apartment which is 2 minutes away and searched through my DVDs. I found The Namesake. As the movie was loading, I quickly thought of discussion questions asking about the difficulties of immigrating to America, of having parents who immigrated, and of having children who were American raised.

I think it was the quickest lesson plan I have ever prepared.

Healthy Living is Making Me Sick

Spring/Summer has arrived and I am feeling the desire to live a more healthy lifestyle after the months of winter cold. This week instead of eating out so much I started cooking more of my meals: more vegetables and fruit. I also have been running for the past couple of weeks about 4 days a week and doing kung fu twice a week. The sun rises early on this side of the globe. It is up by 5:30 am.

My tummy isn't very happy with the vegetables or fruit. In Africa I rarely had troubles with my bowels. I tried to find bleach today in the supermarket. I was directed to a bottle of liquid laundry detergent with a cute bear on it. I asked about bleach for washing vegetables and no one understood the concept.

I am not sure if I am sick because I am eating more fresh vegetables and fruit or if it is because I am eating dirty raw vegetables and fruit. I wish I had bleach.

My morning runs have been pleasant. Because I run in the early morning, I don't have to dodge cars when crossing streets and only have to watch out for the throngs of kids walking to school. I also have to watch out for odors. Every time I pass garbage cans or drains, I hold my breath. Sometimes I smell something pleasant like a strong whiff of cooking garlic or smells that remind me of travelling in Africa, the exhaust of big trucks.

I haven't been able to blog lately because China is blocking blogs and blogger.com. I am trying to post via a proxy.

Improve Chinese by Saturday Morning Cartoons

Back during Peace Corps training in Chengdu, I remember being excited about understanding a lot of the Chinese dialogue while watching a cartoon for 5-7 year old kids about a little boy and his parents.

Watching Chinese cartoons for children is probably an excellent way to improve one's listening skills and if you watch it with a language tutor probably will help improve one's vocabulary. I would love to watch fantasy and science fiction cartoons; however, the vocabulary and the situations the characters get into are too alien from Chinese used in everyday life. My language skills are not to that level yet. I am still working on being able to express my life story, dreams, and opinions in Chinese in a fluid way.

I am looking for Chinese cartoons for children that have everyday life situations. I would love to find the cartoon about the little boy and his two parents that I watched in Chengdu. Do you have any suggestions? I found this 大头儿子小头爸爸 cartoon. It is nice for language class because it is a 7 minute show.

When will summer vacation start?

I have teacheritis kind of like senioritis where as the ending of the school year approaches the less motivated people are to work. This is not the time to be having a motivational problem since I might still have at least 7 more weeks of school; although, my 8 hours of senior classes is rumored to be coming to an end in about 3-4 weeks. It will leave me with 4 hours of freshmen classes till the end of the semester.

As an American one would assume that there is a written out schedule for when finals will be and when graduation is, but here in China schedules come out a few days before the event.

The school wants me to have the final for the seniors written by next week; however, I have no idea when I will stop teaching which means I have no idea how many more literary works we will be studying. Because of this semester's chaotic schedule with the seniors I have only actually taught them about a total of 5 lessons in the past 4 months. How many more lessons will I teach?

One must learn to give up the idea of planning ahead and one must learn to expect the unexpected. These ideas are not only important lessons used during work but also for play.

We often learn maybe a couple days before a holiday that we will get a three day weekend. It makes it hard to plan trips.

I have no idea when anything ends or starts. This is probably one of the reasons contributing to my teacheritis. There is no end date in sight. It is impossible to start a countdown of when my summer vacation begins.

It is unsettling and because I am unmotivated to work I kind of wish that next Wednesday someone will inform me that we have a four day weekend next week; although, our school has restricted our travels. We are not allowed to leave our site because of the two cases of H1N1 flu in China.

What can I do as my heart feels impatient for the summer vacation to start? Take each day as it comes and don't think about summer vacation.

Is it time to grow up?

I have never held a high paying job preferring living new experiences than making a lot of money. After finishing my PhD in physical chemistry and biomaterials, I spent a year doing minimum wage jobs in construction, in the bakery of a grocery store and in home health care. Then I did Peace Corps Africa. I am still in Peace Corps, still a volunteer, except now I am living in China.

I have never made money.

I have gained a lot of skills and experience in the past 10 years and I have learned that I don't want to work in a lab nor do I want to be a teacher unless I am living in an interesting place where I am not working 40 hours a week. My priorities are having time and living in a place I love. My priorities are not money or security.

However, it is expensive to die especially if you reach retirement age. Is it time to grow up? Up until now I have lived with the philosophy, "Work to meet one's basic necessities." Must I leave my philosophy to the wayside?

Should I adopt a new philosophy? "Work so I can pay for my death"

If I have to start working to make more than a volunteer's monthly allowance, what type of work should I do?

Clothes Shopping and Tailors

I really hate shopping for clothes in China. There are several reasons:

1. I have to change my fashion taste of simple cuts and single colors for rhinestones, shiny decals, ruffles, lace, bright colored floral and geometric patterns, and jewel like buttons.
2. Finding clothes that fit my broad shoulders can be frustrating.
3. Knowing when and if to bargain makes my heart flutter with worry. I really hate bargaining.
   

My success with tailors?

Well I have had three pieces of clothing copied from clothes that I had tailored made in Africa.

Two of the three were not copied perfectly.

Because I like wearing my pants at my hips rather than around my belly button, the tailor wasn't sure what to do with the crotch and I have a nice pair of warm winter pants whose crotch is too low. Those pants cost 90 RMB.

I had a dress copied. The armholes were way too big such that you can see my bra and rather than being a tightly fitting dress it is more like a nightgown. Hopefully, tomorrow they will fix it. It cost 100 RMB.

I had another pair of pants copied which were copied perfectly. They cost 100 RMB

I want to get a western style sundress made from a picture I found on the internet; however, I am a bit worried. Maybe I should stick with the styles that the tailors are familiar with like a button down form fitting collared shirt.

I accompanied a friend to an expensive tailor who is making her a Tang dress, a traditional Chinese dress. I think they are very pretty; however, I am not sure when and where I would wear one. They are really formal and expensive. Her dress cost 255 RMB.

Who are my friends? students or teachers?

What is the role and friendship life of a foreign teacher in China like?

I believe the life and role of a Peace Corps volunteer teaching in China is unique and cannot really be compared to being a Chinese teacher or a teacher in the USA.

Many volunteers become very close to their students, inviting their students to dinner and to their homes, doing activities like sports, KTV (karaoke), hikes, watching movies, and some even go out and drink with their students. This is unique. One of our Peace Corps goals is to promote a better understanding of Americans while learning about another culture. What better way to do this than through students.

In America do you ever remember socializing with your teachers when you were an undergraduate student in college? Do you ever remember your teachers offering extra-curricular activities for you to join? Professors were busy and had their own lives. Their job was to teach in the classroom and offer office hours. Their life was not the campus.

One might argue that maybe China is different than America. Maybe in China, students socialize with their teachers. How many students actually socialize with their Chinese teachers? In my observations, very few.

In China, as a foreigner our lives revolve around the campus and the students. We offer extra-extracurricular activities. We participate in English corners. We run clubs and throw cultural learning parties. We show movies. We are not like American teachers nor are we like Chinese teachers. We are unique additions to a Chinese college campus.

In China, it is easy to make friends with students. They are eager to practice their English as well as eager to learn about another culture. They find foreigners easy going and available to do social activities with. Friendship with students makes sense. As a foreigner entering into a new community we have no friends and can't really speak Chinese well enough to make intellectually engaging friends with non English speakers. Therefore, the best people to make friends with are students and fellow teachers.

However, many volunteers find teachers not to be very friendly. Volunteers more often have students as friends than fellow teachers. Why is this? Are the teachers afraid of the foreigners? Shouldn't the teachers make an effort to become friends with a foreigner? In my opinion the reason, I haven't made many friends who are teachers is because well, teachers are busy. They teach 15-18 hours a week. They have families with whom they have to spend time with. They have lessons to plan. They have other responsibilities. They have their set of friends. Plus just because I am the foreigner doesn't mean we will get along. How do we know our personalities will match?

Anyways, it is not a requirement to be friends with fellow co-workers. But then one may wonder why isn't there more of an open dialogue or social friendliness between co-workers. Why do we rarely ever say hello or have a conversation with our co-workers when we meet in the hallway? It is like there is a foreigner group of teachers and a Chinese group of teachers and they don't mix. Well one reason we don't mix is because we don't go to the teacher meetings. Thank goodness. I would not enjoy sitting through hours of Chinese twice a month. And there isn't really a place for teachers to congregate and just chat. People go to their classrooms, to the office, and home again. We just don't cross paths.

Playing basketball with the women of the English department, I believe will open doors to become more social with teachers who have families. It is hard making friends with people who have families. Even in America, I knew very few people who were married with children. As a single woman, I make friends with other non-married people. Mothers make friends with mothers because they tend to have something in common to talk about, their children. In China where most people are married by the time they are 25, can you imagine the chasm that I have to cross to make friends with non-students?

In Africa, I learned the best way to start becoming friends with a community was to leave my hut. Go sit under a public tree for an hour. I believe this lesson is also good for China. Instead of just staying in the apartment, of doing errands, of having specific planned social outings, I need to go somewhere regularly within my community for an hour.

This advice has been proven true by the fact that by regularly exercising in the mornings on the playground, I run into people who I recognize but never had a conversation with. They recognize me as the foreigner basketball player and we start a conversation.

Being a teacher and a friend with students is not the only role of a volunteer. Another role is to try to make a connection with people of different generations. This is more challenging, but is possible. Sometimes instead of waiting for someone to make the first move, I have to do it. I have to invite teachers out for dinner or to play badminton. Maybe they will be able to fit me into their busy schedules of responsibilities and desire to spend time with their children.

Of course, I am quite happy and with the friendships I have formed with students; however, seeing the lifestyles of families and single teachers would also be quite interesting.

A non-fuzzy peach

I bit into a peach and was shocked. It had a smooth skin. It wasn't fuzzy. I thought to myself, "I haven't ever eaten a peach that wasn't fuzzy. How strange." Then I realized, oh it's a nectarine. It has been at least 3 years since I have eaten a nectarine. I had forgotten about that type of fruit.

Perfect Living Situation: Give me two dorm rooms

This past weekend, my sitemate and I were invited on a bike ride and dinner in a teacher's dorm room.

I loved the living setup! It was perfect, simple and just enough space.

The teachers' dormitory is a building 5 stories high. The hallways are lined with doors that open up into a room with a concrete floor and big windows. There are doors off the hallway that lead to community sinks and bathrooms. I didn't see the showers, but I would suspect you have to go to another building to pay for a shower.

This particular teacher had two unconnected rooms. She used one as a bedroom/office and the other as a kitchen and dining area which she shared with other teachers.

It is the perfect setup. You have your own private space and then have a community kitchen and dining area. You get both privacy and the opportunity to meet people and form a network of cooking buddies, sports fanatics, and conversational friends.

However, I don't think I would enjoy this setup in the USA. Why? Well in the states, the individualistic society makes it difficult to form a community. For some reason, people like their space and usually meet people out on town to socialize. People create distance between themselves even if it is their next door neighbor. How many people do you know in your apartment complex or neighborhood? How many people do you know who start conversations with someone on the bus?

I remember a friend living in a shared apartment where each person had their own locked room. There was a communal kitchen and two bathrooms. Everyone went into their rooms and locked themselves in. No one talked or socialized. They were living in close proximity but a strong wall was put up.

In China, this wall is thin. People start talking to strangers on trains. They make small talk with store keepers. They exercise together. For example, tonight I saw about 50 older people all doing aerobics together in front of their apartment complex. Every morning, people walk to the hot water pipes to collect boiled water in kettles. In a place where most people walk to the supermarket, forming a tight knit community is easier than in a community of people driving around in their bubbles.

As an American from an individualistic society, I do cherish my privacy and am not lonely living alone which is difficult for people of a collective society to understand. I also, though, enjoy the benefits of living in a community oriented society. I also like the idea of shared community resources rather than having my own personal resources.

Hopefully some day in the future, I can live in my own dorm room in a community that is open to making friends rather than closing doors to strangers.

Bike Trip to a Local Lake

Friday was a holiday, May 1st, worker holiday. Caitlin and I planned on biking to Heshui, a 40-100 km distance, depending on who you talk to; however, the night before the weather had turned cold and windy. Who wants to bike an unknown distance in cold, against wind?

Instead we went on a short 2.5 hour bike ride exploring the countryside. We found this tiny neighborhood in the middle of farmland. We ate ice cream. One lucky girl got Caitlin's artificially flavored ice. We then headed back and fought an hour against wind, dust, and more wind.

When I got home, I received a text from a psychology teacher who I had just met the other night in the English library. It said, "Would you like to have a trip to the valley near the new campus by foot or by bicycle?"

I replied, "I am too tired today," but then we made plans to meet on Saturday for a bike trip and then lunch afterwards at her teacher dormitory.

In Spring, the landscape of Gansu is incredible. You will be riding along this flat road bordered by beautiful green farmland and then boom, you hit the edge of the plateau and wow. It is such a beautiful sight.

We biked to the edge and then started biking down the valley on a dirt road to find a lake.

On our way down, we collected veggies to cook.

Caitlin ground some grain.

Caitlin then wisely suggested that we park and lock our bikes. Who wants to push a bike up a mountain? We headed down by foot.

At the bottom we found motorcycles and a car owned by fishermen who had no luck today. We headed back up around noon and were treated to a lovely meal by the teachers.
It was such a lovely outing, very chill, good language practice, and plenty of exercise.

Knitting in China

The weather is warming up and I rarely wear my knitted socks anymore. Last fall I started learning how to knit socks out of need because the Chinese markets didn't sell any thick socks and my African sandal-adapted feet were freezing. But then Kyan sent me a care-package thankfully overdoing it with socks and now my cupboard is piled high with warm socks.

My students find it funny that I still wear somewhat thick socks as the weather is warming and I find it funny that they wear thin socks even when there is snow on the ground.

As the weather warms up, what shall I knit? Why socks of course. Next fall is fast approaching and it would be nice to be able to give socks as winter gifts. My hands like to always be in motion with a preference for no brain knitting. This is why I picked out The Classic Sock pattern from the book 2-at-a-time SOCKS by Melissa Morgan-Oakes.

My first pair turned out to be too narrow to fit over an ankle and therefore I changed them into fingerless gloves, a great suggestion by my sitemate.

My second pair fits perfect.

My third pair will again be maroon. I hope everyone likes maroon. I bought way too much yarn for my ribbed tank top.
I want to buy new yarn and to start new projects; however, I have so much leftover yarn from felting projects that I really need to use it up. The yarn I can buy in my city isn't very fancy. It is pretty uninteresting, basically wool and acrylic mixtures. It was really hard for me to find 100% wool that is feltable. I would hand the yarn merchant a note in Chinese asking for 100% wool. She would direct me to a wall of color. I went through 100's of RMB worth of 100% wool yarn that didn't felt for some reason. The yarn packaging in Chinese would say 96% wool + 4% + 10% something else. It was such a strange label for a scientist. That 14% something else doesn't felt.

I like felting projects. I have used up all of the wool that I bought in America during my Jan/Feb 2009 homeleave.

He Yelled at Me

Dressed in Muslim hats, male street vendors have been pushing large carts with a foot high cake filling an area of at least four Monopoly game boards. This curious block is decorated with chewy candies on top. It reminds me of Christmas fruitcake.

One evening while sitting at an outdoor BBQ joint, I saw the huge cake being pushed down the street. I try anything that is edible.

My language skills have improved greatly these past few months where my teaching load of 12 hours a week has taken a hit dwindling down to 4 hours a week. Teaching has been replaced with almost daily one hour lessons of Chinese; therefore, I was not prepared for being unable to communicate. Even during my first week in China, I was able to buy food and an umbrella.

Stopping the cake man, I understood the rhythm of his phrases, but did not understand the specifics. When I asked the price, I understood in general that he was saying a half kilo costs this much money. But I did not catch the specific details. He did not speak the Mandarin that I understand but a dialect completely foreign to me.

When in language doubt, I start guessing which this time was not a good idea.

I miss-assumed that food in China is cheap and miss-assumed that this cake was not heavy.

With body language, he asked us to show him how much to cut off. He cut a 12 inch by 12 inch, 1 inch thick slab. He asked me to help him with the bag and once he put it in the bag, I was like, "Uh oh. This cake is SUPER heavy!" It was a dense 15 pound slice of a nut cake.

I asked how much.
I understood, "8 RMB."
I handed him the 8 RMB.
And then he started yelling!
I kept saying, "I don't understand. How much?"
He pointed to a stranger watching and asked him to help us.
The stranger said, "I don't speak English."
The vendor kept yelling, coz of course the logic goes the louder you shout the better the person will understand you.
It worked.
I finally understood that he was wanting 80 RMB for the cake.
I was shocked!
I told him, "I don't have 80 RMB with me."
I handed him 10 RMB.
He cut me a new piece, a 3 by 3 inch sliver.

Twas an awkward miscommunication.
I hate being yelled at.
And the cake wasn't even sweet.

Easy Salty Rice Porridge

Makes about 6 helpings.
Ingredients
1/2 cup of rice
salt
chicken bullion
sesame oil
garlic
ginger
mushrooms
pork
baby bak choy
Add any other meats and vegetables that you like.

Instructions

1. Except for the quick cooking vegetables like bak choy, throw everything into the pot. Add the quick cooking vegetables towards the end when the porridge is almost ready.
2. Add 12 times as much water as rice.
3. Boil for as long as you want. The longer the congee boils, the rice soup will become a thicker porridge.

Tips: I like to start boiling the rice with the water and then start chopping my vegetables and meat to add.

Two More Games!

Thank goodness Caitlin played tonight. We won 38-14 against Chemistry, a friendly game. I totally just walked up and down the court and didn't attempt to score. I was exhausted! Caitlin scored 30 points!
They then asked me to play one more game, a friendly game for show. Older men against female students majoring in PE. I played with the older men, but had to quit. I just couldn't play anymore especially a fast paced game against players who know how to play! It was real basketball compared to the rugby b-ball we had been playing all week.

I am tired!

FYI More pictures of the game can be found.