Crochet versus Knitting

I started learning how to crochet while living in China back in 1989. My dad got a job at a nuclear power plant and my family moved to Daya Bay in Guangdong Province. I was 12 years old living in an ex-pat compound full of French families, a few British families, and a handful of American families. The place was full of stuff to do. There was a beach, a swimming pool, and a club house full of squash courts, ping pong tables, movie room, even a skater's park plus kids and friends galore.

It was there where I met a woman who taught me how to crochet. My very first project was a pair of slippers. Ever since my first lesson, I have been crocheting. I would bike to the local market and buy hanks of yarn. I learned how to roll balls without making big tangled messes. I can crochet just about anything doilies, afghans, cool hats (made a butt load of them for the rugby team), and stuffed animals. I even attempted clothing, made a vest in high school and wore it every day. But it was a piece of clothing dear to my heart only because I had made it. In reality none of the clothes looked professional or beautiful. I gave up the pursuit of crocheting clothing.

I just started learning how to knit a year ago when I moved back to China into the winter cold. Two years in Africa made Gansu feel freezing. Even at this specific moment as I type this blog, I am sitting in a sleeping bag. I am cold!

When a person is cold, knitting brings warmth to the heart.

Yesterday I finished a pair of mittens.

Knitted clothes look amazing.

Which craft do I prefer now? I see the benefits of both. I would never knit an afghan. Crochet is fast and easy. I doubt I would ever crochet a piece of clothing. Knitting is the craft for that.

Living in China has taught me two important skills how to crochet and how to knit. All is good.

Secondary Project: Writing Club

I dream of becoming a writer, but I know that my writing is a bit dry, a bit too scientific, and not very poetic or descriptive. I am not a storyteller nor a fiction writer. I am passionate about human truths, more specifically my truths.

David Eddings wrote, "Start early and work hard. A writer's apprenticeship usually involves writing a million words (which are then discarded) before he's almost ready to begin. That takes a while."

I am 32 years old and I am working towards those million words.

Tonight was the first meeting of the Tree House Writing Club. I had 4 people show up plus myself, making a manageable total of 5 wannabe writers. We did the 6 word memories exercise blogged about by Phil and Patrick. I can only hope and do strongly believe that with each writing exercise creativity and the ability to write improves.

If you have any suggestions of activities for the writing club, do send them my way.

Thanks.

Gender Equality: America, Africa, China

In America, the fight for gender equality has become a subtle fight where probably most Americans feel that the big war is over and now we are just trying to fine tune it. I never feel like a second class citizen just because I am female, and I rarely feel that I am treated differently than males. America's history for the fight for gender equality has created a day where females take it for granted that we are equal to men.

In Guinea and Burkina Faso, there has not been the fight for gender equality. Instead the conditions are being prepared for a future war. Women and men are not equal. Men have power, status, education and the leisure to relax and play. Women are second class citizens who do most of the work with little recognition, have babies, and struggle every minute of their lives to please the men, to keep their children alive, and to keep themselves from drowning in the poverty of West Africa.

As the visiting foreigner, I felt like a third gender. I was female but I had power, status, education, and the leisure to relax and play. I was not seen as a second class female citizen, but as a gender closer to males and was treated as such. Being on the top of the hierarchy, I didn't ever really personally feel that I was being treated differently just because I was female. As a daughter of the American fight for equality, I of course noticed the gender inequalities.

If I had been married, it would have been a different story, and I would have personally felt the gender inequality. I would have been ignored while my husband was acknowledged. Messages would have been passed to me by way of the male of the household even if it had nothing to do with him. He would have been asked to fight my fights, to solve my problems, to be the leader of the pair as I just sit quietly and look pretty.

In China where I see road and construction crews with a noticeable female worker presence, I wonder what is the status of gender equality in China? Did the increase of female employment during the Mao era create gender equality? One of Chairman Mao's sayings was "Women hold up half the sky."

Okay so I hold up half the sky; therefore, treat me as an equal. It is here in China where I have personally felt the inequality of being female. At a wedding of a personal friend who we have known for over a year, neither I nor my sitemate were asked to give a speech. Instead, the newly arrived American male foreigner who worked at the bride's father's school was asked to say some words. He had only arrived three days ago and had never even met the bride.

Another time that I felt the effects of gender inequality was at a restaurant. There were three of us, one American male, and two American females where one of them, me looks Chinese. The waiter come up to our table and started giving us a speech. No, let me rephrase that, the waiter instead of talking to the table and talking to everyone, turned and faced directly towards our American male and proceeded to explain something to him in Chinese. Maybe the waiter incorrectly assumed that our male companion had amazing Chinese language skills. Maybe the waiter didn't notice the Chinese American girl who is always assumed to speak Chinese. Or maybe gender inequality is still strongly alive in China.

One could assume that in China there is a push towards equality. Girls are educated as boys are. Women work and there is a claim of equal pay. There is an idea that women can do work that men do. But the true answer I believe is in the day to day interactions between males and females. Males are acknowledged and females are ignored. Males still have the higher status and females have very little.

Every country has its problems with gender inequality and I can only hope that we continue the fight, continue educating, continue thinking and acknowledging the problems. Change does happen. Sometimes it takes living in another country to realize just how lucky I am to be female living in America and how thankful I should be towards those women and men who fought in the war for gender equality.

What shall I do for work?

Some knitters and people who crochet like complicated patterns, like airy lace fabrics, like creating fancy motifs, like following a chart, like having to keep their brains on in order not to make a mistake.

I am someone who likes repetitive plain and simple knit and purl, someone who likes a pattern that is easily memorized and repeated throughout the piece, a pattern where I don't have to concentrate but can watch a movie, listen to a podcast, or have a conversation.

My knitting personality might also indicate the type of work I like. Yesterday I spent 6 hours teaching three listening classes that were exactly the same. I liked it. I wasn't bored, but enjoyed the ability to fine tune the lesson plan into something great for the lucky last class of the day. I do the same thing when I knit. I have ripped out completed projects and knit them again in a better way. It doesn't bore me.

I enjoy practicing towards perfection.

When I think back on my school days, what did I enjoy?
I enjoyed figuring out a problem and redoing them over and over again.

When I think back on my laboratory days, what did I enjoy?
I enjoyed washing dishes.

I worked in a bakery.
I worked at a temp agency doing construction.
What did I enjoy?
I enjoyed the repetitive movement towards a finished project.

I was looking at government science jobs online and I cringed as I read the job duties.

One day I shall return to the states, then what?

Pick a bookmark

I crocheted three bookmarks last night and am wondering which ones I should make more of to hand out as gifts. Please vote.

Bookmark 1

Bookmark 2

Bookmark 3

So cold

I am freezing.
Until the heat returns,

I will forever remain in my down sleeping bag,
being frustrated with knitting lace bookmarks
switching to a crochet hook
feeling the winter chill as
I make Christmas presents
in October.

Vest Project

Here is the vest I finished knitting today. The pattern can be found at The Daily Knitter. It is the second piece of clothing that I have ever put together.

I still cannot figure out gauge very well. The first attempt was way too big, but from that ripped out start I calculated a better size. I started over again; however, the vest was way too short and I had to add 6-8 inches at the bottom. I learned how to undo stitches from the cast on side in order to lengthen it.

Undoing stitches from the bottom cast on takes forever. It took like 3 hours. I learned two techniques. The first technique from the book stitch n bitch was just unweaving the whole thing. It took forever which was why I was up till 3 am. It would have taken another million hours if I hadn't found the second technique of just snipping one piece of thread.

On my trip to Chengdu I found some soft beautiful yarn and forgot that I had told myself not to buy anymore yarn until I had finished up all of my stashed yarn. Oh well, I am happy with the purchase and finished a warm scarf with the free fat arm-length wooden needles that the shop keeper gave me.

Knitting is not Meditation

I thought that the repetitive nature of knit purl, knit knit, a thousand purls, and a thousand knits, the repetitive nature of two clicking needles while staring into a maroon sweater vest as it grows, could possibly lead me to enlightenment, the art of zen turned into the art of knitting, the mantra of ohm turned into the mantra of knit, purl, knit.

Last night I sat for 15 minutes, counting breaths with closed eyes.

Knitting is not practice for meditation.

My mind wandered. It wasn't quiet. It was a speedy little bee buzzing from flower to flower from idea to idea. This was not the mind of someone who practices meditation. This was not the mind that I have felt during a longer stint of a meditation habit.

The only thing that was easy was sitting for 15 minutes. I probably can sit for hours. Actually I am an expert at sitting for hours. Traveling in China and Africa, I have learned how to sit, to wait, to have nothing to do, but sit.

Contemplating in a Cold Flat

It has been a day full of learning how to do a new knitting technique because my sweater vest is too short. As I sit here ripping out, catching stitches, and fixing dropped ones, a few thoughts have been passing through my mind:

I wonder how much cell phones cost in the USA. I never had one stateside except when my mother gave me one for a few months since I was in Alabama before moving to Africa. I would have never had one in Africa or in China except a friend gave me one. That friend sure does supply me with a lot of electronics that I would never bought for myself: ipod, laptop, digital camera, wolverine, Solaris. (I had a cheap film camera that I left behind when I evacuated out of Guinea. That was a stupid idea not bringing a digital camera to Africa, but I was trying to be frugal and not a target for thieves.)

I wonder if knitting is like meditating. I am reading eat, pray, love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It has kind of inspired me to start meditating again. I wonder if trying to meditate will be easy or a challenge. Is knitting a type of meditation that will make sitting for 20-30 minutes observing my breath easier?

I wonder if Peace Corps would pay for a month home leave if I decided to stay one more year in China and do a fourth year. I have already had one month home leave for the third year transfer to China. I really want to come home and know sort of that it is important to maybe start making money, but there are times when I feel like WOW, I am really part of this community.

One more thought:

One of the biggest pieces of advice veteran volunteers give newbies is "Leave your house, flat, or compound at least once a day. Do not hole up there!"

In Africa, I found this to be easy. There were places to explore, cooler trees to sit under, tea to drink, and well the compound can get awfully boring with only books, music, paper and chores to entertain you with.

I do remember one time sitting at my desk in Guinea debating whether or not to go buy some freshly killed cow. I was a newbie scared to bargain, scared of not knowing how to choose which part and how much of the cow to point to, scared to look like a rich foreigner who can afford meat. When I finally got the nerve, the meat was all gone.

In China, holing up in one's apartment is kind of easy. Outside is cold and rainy. Inside is warm and full of electronic stimuli. As a veteran, I don't hole up in my flat, but it sure does seem like I spend a lot of time in there.

Today I had a Chinese lesson, judged a speech competition, ate in the cafeteria, and had a tea party with some students, American cookies with Chinese tea. I think in China because I have electricity the days are just longer and one has plenty of time to step out of the flat as well as spend a lot of time in the flat. Last night I didn't go to bed until 3 am.

Hostel Review: Xian and Chengdu

I have stayed in three hostels in Xian:  Han Tan, Shuyuan, and 7 Sages Youth Hostel and one hostel in Chengdu:  Holly's Hostel.

Han Tan

Dorm bed price: 40-50 RMB

Location:  West of the Bell Tower and Drum Tower, near the Subway restaurant, near Parkson shopping mall, near the Muslim quarter, near the airport shuttle.  I had a hard time finding this hostel the first time.  When you are near the Parkson shopping mall, look west and up.  You should be able to see a small sign that says U-tels.  It is the red door right next door to Subway.

Pluses:  The location is great and the western cafe is a nice place to chill.  Plus you get a free coffee and a free beer.  The free glass of beer is at the bar under the Shuyuan hostel, so you  have to walk about 15 minutes to get it.  Another benefit of this hostel is you don't have to walk outside to go the bathroom or use the showers.  Free internet.

Minuses:  The bathrooms and rooms are so so.  This hostel feels like a cheap hotel.  Also, I don't like bathrooms where you get the toilet all wet by showering.  If you are afraid of dogs or allergic to them, this hostel has a dog.

Shuyuan Hostel 

Dorm bed price:  30-40 RMB

Location:  Near South Gate, walk west along the wall.  It is easy to find.  Close to beer street and a street full of yummy cheap food like BBQ, two wings for 6 RMB. 

To find the food street, walk along bar street toward the north of the city.  At the end of bar street, near the bakery, turn left.  Then at the next street take another left.  That is cheap food street. 

Also if you are looking for a place to sit for a while to get out of the heat and to taste a drink buffet with all you can eat ice cream and fresh fruit, try Bee Cafe (don't remember the exact name).  It is 30 RMB per person.  Walk out of Shuyuan hostel's front doors, turn left.  At the end of the street, turn left into the parking lot (your back is facing the South gate).  Walk straight.  Cross the little street and keep walking straight and the first floor cafe is on your left.  It is kind of hidden, hard to see from the street.

Pluses:  Free coffee and beer.  Good cafe and a bar downstairs.  Good location near international food and tourist sites.  Near beer street.  Has a quaint Chinese atmosphere.  Cheapest beds I have found so far.  Free internet.

Minuses:  During the winter, because of the open courtyard, it can be rainy and cold taking a shower and walking to the toilets.  Also, the cheapest basement beds have a basement feel, claustrophobic, muggy smell, and no windows to the outdoors.  These rooms do have fans.  This hostel also has a dog if you are allergic.

7 Sages Youth Hostel       

Dorm bed price:  40-? RMB

Location:  About a 10 minute walk to the north train station.  About a 30 minute walk to the tourist, shopping and international food area of Xian.  Right around the corner from a local free park.  Close to a lot of cheap local food. 

I arrived at 6 am and it is located in a gated courtyard in the way back of the street.  There is a doorbell though and then look towards the back of the car filled courtyard and you will see hostel flags.

The best nearby restaurant is a dumpling chain.  It is on the south side of Xi Wu Road.  From the hostel, once you reach Xi Wu Road, turn right (west), cross the street using the overpass walking bridge, and keep walking west.  It has an English name and is right beside an outdoor bbq yard that has solid wooden benches.  The menu is in Chinese; however, be patient.  Even if you are hungry, just wait and see what they bring out for other people.  Then choose and point.

Pluses:  Unique ancient Chinese courtyard atmosphere.  Great movie room.  Nice outdoor and indoor cafe with excellent music.  A good way to meet Chinese travelers.  Close to the train station.  Best showers I have felt in Xian so far.   

Minuses:  It is a hike to the Bell Tower.  You have to walk outdoors to the very clean bathrooms and showers. This can be cold and rainy in the winter. No free internet.  One dog and two cats if you are allergic.  

Holly's Hostel in Chengdu

Dorm bed price:  25-? RMB

Location:  A very quaint neighborhood, near Wu Hou Ci Temple, snack street, a university with tons of cheap street food, and Tibetan stores and restaurants.  About a 30 minute hike to Tianfu Square. 

Take bus 57 from the train station.  It runs by the temple which is very close to the hostel.  Bus 27 does not run by the temple, but runs on 1st ring road.  You need a map if you want to try to find the hostel using bus 27.  Lucky for me I had a map.

Pluses:  Great neighborhood, big industrial fan, can walk to many local sites in Chengdu.  Has a rooftop restaurant with cheap Chinese food.

Minuses:  Dingy.  Free internet for 30 minutes.

I love Africa but

instead of doing a third year, I left. I would have loved to do a third year, but the mosquitoes drove me out of the country. Every mosquito bite turned into a staph infection and I ended up with nasty quarter size and sometimes larger black scars. Lucky for me my legs didn't end up as bad as some volunteers' polka dotted legs.

Sometimes during the summer my legs and feet would be covered with band aids and a huge number of flies would land on each covered sore. It was gross.

I could have stayed in Africa if I had been willing to wear pants, socks, and shoes, but it was so hot. Plus have you ever tried to pee in an empty field with your butt exposed to the world? Skirts were practical pieces of clothing, easy to go to the bathroom in, easy to create a bit of privacy in a country with few bushes and trees, easy to hide from the bush taxi eyes as they followed the foreigner who has to pee, easy to be modest and create a bit of respect from the Muslim men.

Lucky for me I moved to Gansu, a dry desert where the mosquitoes are few.

However, last week I went to Chengdu for the national holiday and mid-autumn's day. In that wet humid climate, a city filled with water canals, and a teahouse culture where you sit by the water drinking tall glasses of chrysanthemum and green tea for hours at a time, the mosquitoes attacked.

PS. Have you heard Peace Corps Guinea volunteers are being moved out of the country again? Remember when that happened to me?

A Small Challenge

One of the biggest challenges I face as a PC volunteer both in Africa and in China is traveling to and from the Peace Corps office.

In Africa especially Guinea, the trip was long, dusty, hot and squished. It would take at least two days, one day to get out of site, and one day to get down to Conakry. In Burkina Faso, the trip was a lot easier except for all of the sitting and waiting since the one bus to and from my site never had a reliable schedule.

Unlike Africa, China has paved roads. One might assume that transportation in China would be a lot easier and in many places it is. From my site though, the route just makes me sick, literally sick. It might be the drivers who speed and stop weaving at unpredictable rates, making a 2 lane road into a 4 lane road as slow trucks are passed. It might be the windows that don't open with warm air flowing out of the ac system. It might be the noise pollution blaring from the DVD player. Whatever it is, a wide mouth nalgene bottle is useful when no plastic bags are available.

A bus from my city can take two routes, the fast highway or the slow road that passes through a bunch of tiny towns looking for passengers. One route can be as fast as 3-5 hours while the other can be anywhere from 5-8 hours. Whether you take the freeway or the slow roads, there is no bypassing the hill. The hill is terrible where the pavement has been scraped off leaving a washboard of a road.

If you hit the hill at the wrong time, be prepared to wait for 30 minutes as 20 workers spread several inches of black sticky tar. Then wait for another 30 minutes as a rolling pin tractor smooths it flat. The last wait will be another 20 minutes as the traffic reorganizes itself from the mess it made while waiting impatiently.

Once traffic is stopped by a road block, cars don't stay in their lane. Instead they move out of their lane and speed forward until they hit the road block. A two lane road turns into a one way street. Two one way streets meet at the road block, a wall of headlights with a mountain on one side and a ravine on the other. Then what? Another 20 minutes for the cars to rearrange themselves into passable lanes.

This is not the worse of it. The bus then makes it the outskirts of Xian and sometimes drops you off at a bus station and sometimes at some random corner in Xian. At both places one has to take a 30-40 minute local bus into downtown Xian where the train station is located.

The whole trip takes FOREVER and my weary mood cannot be cheered up even with a delicious steak salad, one of the best I have ever tasted.

Once I make it to the train station, I have a 16 hour trip down to Chengdu then a 50 minute local bus ride to the university, then a 30 minute walk to the office.

This is the trip I took on Sunday to get a flu shot and to bring back a flu shot for my sitemate.

Instead of returning by train and making the trek over 2 days, PC decided to fly me back to Xian. At 6 am, I had to hike 40 minutes to the local bus that takes an hour to get to the airport. I wanted to be early in case I had problems getting the syringe and medicine through security. The flight was only an hour and a half, but the Xian airport is miles outside of Xian. I had to take an hour bus ride into Xian, stand in a line going out the door to buy a bus ticket and then trek home sitting on a bus for 6 hours. Luckily the bus was full so instead of driving on the slow road passing through towns we rode to the end of the freeway, got caught up in a hour of roadwork, made it up the hill and finally arrived at site at 7 pm. It was a long day.

Guess what, I am going back to Chengdu tomorrow for a week long vacation. Why do I torture myself? Lucky for PC though, coz while I am on vacation, they can give me a vaccination that they forgot when I was there on Monday.

First Full Week of Teaching

I taught a full week of 5 classes this week, a total of 10 hours.

My four Freshmen listening classes are full of sweet bright eyed bushy tailed students. I spent Wednesday teaching 6 hours, teaching 6 hours of the same exact thing three times. I thought it was going to be super terrible. Instead, it was kind of fun. The students make all the difference.

I received several sweet texts from new students.

"Miss Jeniffer, I'm Joceyln, is a freshmen. I'm so glad to learn from you!"

"Miss Jennifer. I'm very glad to see you. sincerely! By your words, I can feel your strong heart. I want to be friends with you which makes me so happy! sincerely :) "

Next week is a National holiday. If you haven't heard it is China's 60th Anniversary. It will probably be at least 3-4 weeks before I have another full week of teaching.

This weekend I am going to Chengdu for a flu shot.
Cheeseburgers and milkshakes here I come! Yum!

Online Dating Useful?

The other day I wrote a blog titled, Pointless for Me to Online Date. Maybe it isn't all pointless. It actually sometimes is useful.

I wrote the blog because as the day, I return to the states, approaches, I have been wondering how to meet people. Living abroad for 4 years has shrunk my social circle into a loner circle of 1, moi, so how do I widen that circle?

Plus one of the main reasons, I am coming home is because I miss connecting to people where my full identity doesn't have to be suppressed and hidden. Volunteering abroad I hide a lot of my identity in order to be accepted by the community. For example, if I was living in a community of traditional religious fanatics, what type of identity would I have to present in order to fit in, and what would I have to hide? I am tired of hiding and want to go home to join again the communities that accept me, all of me.

When I did a short bout of online dating back in Seattle, I met a lot of people. I met a lot of people I did not connect with. I met a lot of people with whom I felt a bit awkward with, but gave them at least one more date to try to get over my stranger anxiety. During two dates, I would try to overcome my wallflower personality of meeting a stranger for the first time. Practice makes perfect. Little by little I was learning how to make small talk and be less afraid of meeting someone new. Yet, my new ease at talking to strangers still didn't help overcome the lack of chemistry between us. I would have lovely meals with people, but nothing to push me to want to see them again and again to allow a friendship to bloom. This is what happened with the majority of people I would meet, and I slowly started feeling that online dating was a waste of time, until....

Until, I met two amazing people I actually connected with, two people who had similar lifestyle interests, two people with whom I could explore the city, cooking, art, nature and the deeper questions such as who we are and what type of lives and connections we want to have. Online dating led me to making a connection with two awesome people, so it can't be all bad.

In small cities, online dating is probably pointless. There just isn't a big enough pool of people and a big pool is what one needs when searching for a connection. Seattle on the other hand is full of interesting people. There are tons of pools full of different types of people, the outdoor lovers, the hi-tech engineers, the artists, the hippies, the Burning Man clicks, and the alternative lifestyle people.

The big question is "Am I willing to spend a lot of time searching for that connection?" Is there a way to streamline online dating such that you only go on dates with people with whom there is a high probability of connection?

Online dating might not be all that pointless. Sometimes it is good. I met two amazing people, but am I willing, to sit through many forced dates to try to find that connection again?

A Lazy Sunny Day

Today was a lazy Sunday.

During my 1 hour Chinese class, I learned how to properly use the words, before and after.

Then I went on a 5 hour bike ride with my Chinese friends to what seemed like a national park that had a great big valley, a couple of lakes, and a small waterfall. I walked down the hills not trusting my brakes and then back up the valley pushing my one gear bike.

I watched a couple of episodes of Stargate Atlantis.

I visited with freshmen at the Tree House.

The day ended with an evening Thanksgiving meal with all of its fixings prepared by Chef Sitemate.

Now it is time for bed. I have to teach at 8 am tomorrow and hopefully weather permitting, I will be able to bike the 20 minutes to New Campus, teach and come back for my afternoon class plus buy a train ticket to Chengdu. Peace Corps wants me to reschedule my classes and come in for a medical checkup and a flu shot. They will fly me back so I can give my sitemate her flu shot before she goes off for the week long October holiday.

September has been a teaching month where I barely teach. I wonder how October will be. Will I have daily lazy Sundays or will I actually be teaching?

Pointless For Me to Online Date

Shifting through years of my dating history, from my first partner at 19 to my last partner at 31, I have realized that I date people because of a certain chemistry or because of proximity. There are very few people with whom I have felt the sting of chemistry, the chemistry of attraction, that certain high that one gets with certain people for some reason or another whether it be their dreads, their rebellious statements, the way they think, their deep intensity, or how they look on a bike.

Because I am mostly unemotional and because I just go with the flow, my friendships tend to turn into relationships through proximity not because of the attraction of chemistry. When I write attraction due to proximity, I am talking about the idea that because you see a person often enough, some type of connection happens, a connection that results in a relationship.

For example:
I frequently see the person.
I like the person.
We become friends.
We hang out.
I feel comfortable with them.
We become a couple.
Things just naturally progress into a peaceful relationship.
This is the proximity rule at work.

Then there is the other side of the card, chemistry, the type of attraction that is a sweet feeling, a heart thumping misleading feeling that my logic fears.

My brain says, chemistry never lasts.
Be practical.
Practicality is more important than some unnamed emotion.
Compatibility should win over those high feelings of chemistry.
Feelings come and go.
It is the other person and all of their faults and conflicts that you will be left with.
A friendship turned into a relationship is more stable than an attraction because of chemistry.

A relationship based purely on chemical feelings will quickly die out. Who is able to hold onto emotions? No one. A relationship formed because of chemistry is destined to fade, to die, to disappear into the passage of time. Are the memories of emotional highs worth an inevitable empty bed? Or is better to play it safe than risk attempting a go with chemistry?

I think safe is a better bet. Getting to know a person because of proximity, becoming their friend, then their girlfriend is the way to go. I have never had a long term relationship with someone with whom I had chemistry with; therefore, online dating is pointless for me.

As a woman, I can meet a lot of people through online dating, but how many of those would I click with, have some sort of chemistry with in order to continue seeing each other? Out of the hundreds of profiles to look through, which ones would I like enough to even try to get the proximity rule to start having it's influence?

When I did online dating, I would meet people and we would have one or two dinners. If there was no chemistry, why would we even try to meet again? If we never meet again, how can the proximity rule create a friendship turned relationship?

Plus, most of my relationships that started because of chemistry died early.

So in conclusion, internet dating is a waste of time for me. Why?

1. I have to meet a ton of people to narrow down the field to someone I have chemistry with.

2. Chemistry would allows us to meet again and again thus forcing the proximity rule to result in becoming friends and then lovers, but according to my dating history, relationships that start because of chemistry never last.

et voila, online dating is pointless for me.

Instead I will just play a sport, hang out with a group of people with the same interests and maybe, just maybe I will find a friend.

My First Class, for Real

After many weeks of thinking I would teach, I finally taught today. My first student came in and instantly started asking me a ton of questions in Chinese. I politely said hello in English and proceeded to turn on the energy and the computers to activate the listening lab. About 70 students filed in and it was funny to watch their faces slowly start understanding that this class was being taught by an American in English.

Today was the second day of sun in weeks. I rode my bike to work. I forgot how much fun it is to actually use a bicycle for transportation and not just for pleasure and exercise.

It is funny how work can jump start productivity other than knitting. Tonight we picked our Tree House Library volunteer workers and have lots of ideas for other projects from a book reading competition, to writing clubs, French clubs, and an English tutoring center. Also, I am making a peanut butter soup full of veggies and pork. Instead of just eating jello and instant noodles, I actually cooked. Teaching jump starts productivity.

Today was the first day of teaching and actually it was the only class that I am teaching this week. Next week I will have a "full load" of 10 hours leaving plenty of time for secondary projects and of course knitting.

This semester's second Chinese lesson

My language learning has hit a wall, and I don't really know what to do next.

Today I had a fun language lesson of just talking in Chinese for an hour, writing down new vocabulary, and learning sentence structures for particular phrases that I wanted to use.

For some reason, I have a strong dislike and a very low motivation for trying to learn how to read, but maybe that is the next step that I really need to walk towards in my language learning. Is my dislike for reading the wall that I need to break through?

When I was in Africa, during Peace Corps French language lessons we had 4 hours of conversation a day. We sometimes learned new grammar if it came up while we were talking. We were building our vocabulary by using it and were learning how to just communicate with the vocabulary we already had.

In China, because my Chinese was non-existent, Peace Corps training was very structured with a book that we used 4 hours every day.

Now that my Chinese skills have reached a certain level, I just want to do it the African way, but is that really helpful?

Any Chinese learners out there with any advice?

A busy day

Today, still in my pajamas, I had my first Chinese lesson of the semester. I mistakenly thought the lesson was for Friday morning.

I may have a new motivation to learn Chinese. If I would like to try for a high paying English teaching job in Taiwan, I need to be able to speak some Mandarin.

Today I went to a wedding. I saw a beautiful bride dressed in white with a red scarf covering her face. I saw a groom dressed in a suit and two red sashes. There was fog. There was bright yellow shooting sparks. There was a huge meal full of meat, including turtle soup, shell, head and feet included. There were loud singers and a man who played a wind instrument with his nose. The meal was eaten and zoom, everyone left in a huge crowd pushing their way out of the banquet hall. With the ceremony only lasting 10 minutes, it was an eat and run wedding.

Today I went to a coffee shop, sat on a big comfy couch, knitting an ugly multiple-colored experimental knee high sock and drank peppermint tea out of a bottomless tea pot.

Today I learned that I won't have to teach next week except for two hours. My 8 hours of Freshmen listening classes will have a different teacher for next week. He will educate them on how to use the listening lab.

Maybe next week I will start knitting a sweater.

Did living in Africa, change the way I do things?

When I first moved to China, I was still wearing African fashions, the big airy shirts that add a couple of pounds and that allow the skin to breathe under the hot sun. I was still wearing a lot of skirts and was not feeling really comfortable wearing form fitting pants. Plus they were hot and skirts were more practical for squat toilets.
Nowadays though, I live in a part of China where the weather is cold. Pants and long underwear are necessary. I have given up my desire to be Little House on the Prairie modest in long ankle length skirts and have adopted the more practical fashion of pants. I am still not very comfortable in tight jeans; although, lately I have been wearing them and have gotten used to them again.

In Africa, laundry was done by hand, two buckets, one with soapy water and one with clean water for rinsing. In China, I have a washing machine that uses electricity to agitate the soapy water, spin one way, spin the other. One must manually add water and drain the water. There is a spinner that is like a scientific centrifuge that spins out water while stretching out your clothes. I still do part of the wash the African way. I use a bucket to rinse out the soap and use muscle to squeeze out the water.

In Africa, I did not have a refrigerator. I would sometimes put leftovers in a clay cannery to keep the food cold. If it smelled all right and didn't have a slimy texture, I might eat it for breakfast.

In China, I have a refrigerator, but haven't figured out how to fill it. My fridge right now is completely empty. In a city, where I can eat out, three meals for $3 a day, I don't cook much and even if I did, I'd probably walk to the supermarket once a day like the locals do. For some reason, vegetables don't keep very well in fridges. They get slimy by the next day.

So did living in Africa change the way I live life or do things?

Not really.

What changes the way I do things, is what is available in the country in which I'm living. In Africa, I wore skirts, cooked small individual sized meals, and washed my clothes by hand. In China, I use the washing machine. I eat out and shop for food like the locals. I wear pants.

When I return to the states, I will probably start using a dryer unless I am living in the countryside. I will probably cook with an oven and drive a car unless I am in a bike friendly city.

Living abroad has taught me that I adapt. I don't hang onto my old ways, but follow the ways of the place I am living. Will I adopt the wasteful ways of the US? I hope not, but my track record of adopting a particular country's ways tells a different story.

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.