What to knit next?

For the upcoming winter, I need sweaters. Why? Because during home leave I want to take home all my good clothes which means my good jackets. This means I need to start knitting layers.

Tomorrow I am going to go yarn shopping. Even though the USA has great yarn stores with an amazing selection of yarn that I cannot find in China, I must make a vow not to buy yarn. It is too expensive in America. Here in China, for $4.50, I can buy about 600 grams worth of wool which can be made into several items a long sleeve sweater, a T-sweater, and socks. There is even cheaper acrylic yarn for about $2.60 per 600 grams.

I need to get a big project on the needles so when I am back in the states, I won't be tempted to buy yarn.

Here are three projects I am thinking of doing: Avast or Plain and Simple Pullover or a Sag Snood. I guess I will be buying a lot of gray. I like knitting simple designs, nothing fancy, especially no lace. Do I get bored? Nah... I just like keeping my hands busy without too much thinking.

Recently, I have finished a green T-sweater, a pair of socks, a hat, and a scarf. I've run out of yarn.

Collision

This is what happens when a wide six lane road is blocked by a metal fence and reduced down to one bike lane that is just wide enough to fit two cars. When accidents occur in China, rarely are vehicles moved off the road. Instead they sit blocking traffic until the police arrive. I have not really seen too many accidents, just a lot of motorcycles lying on their sides in front of larger vehicles. I have somewhat gotten used to cars, motorcycles, and bicycles all on the wrong side of the road moving the wrong way. It is chaotic dodging vehicles and people coming from every direction.

When trying to get on an exercise schedule, it is frustrating when unforeseen things try to prevent you from exercising. Yesterday it was a flat tire. Today it is rain. I think I am going to bike anyways. Hopefully the rain isn't heavy or continuous.

Today is my last day of teaching and final exam dates have finally been posted. My class' listening final is the 6th of July.

Boys Playing

I woke up to a flat tire and wasn't sure if it was because the valve was loose or because of a puncture. I tightened the valve, blew up the tire and will wait to see what happens tomorrow. I instead went on a run in the rain and made my black toenail bleed.

My new project is going to translate a menu at a near by restaurant. I will go down the menu one by one, eat a different dish, and create an English menu. You may be wondering, why haven't you done it earlier like when you first arrived? Because, my spoken Chinese food vocabulary hadn't gotten old yet: eggs and tomatoes, pork and peppers, noodles, fungus and pork, green vegetables, tofu, and eggplant. As I enter my third year in China, I've been eating the same things over and over again. I want something new.

Want a pet?

How much is that ducky in the basket?

4 RMB ($0.60)

I thought the ducks were being sold as food.
Buy a baby duck.
Watch it grow.
Then eat it.

My students said,
"No. They are being sold to little children."

Women's Conference

This semester there were two clubs: Women's Club advised by my sitemate and English Club for Knitters advised by me. The Women's Club was for sophomore and junior students. The English Club for Knitters was for freshmen. Because of the difference between language levels, we decided to have two different clubs so that the freshmen wouldn't get run over by the more confident older students.

Tonight we held an end of the semester women's conference that combined the two clubs. Using only English, the women got together and exchanged ideas, participating in an ice breaker, telling each other what they did this semester, interviewing each other, explaining homemade posters about women, and telling each other their high and low of the week. It was a great success. The freshmen after spending a semester knitting while using English became a lot more confident. Instead of shying away from strangers they were able to express themselves using English. The older students were like big sisters taking care of their little sisters, encouraging them to be confident. It was a win win situation.

Three Men on Bicycles

As I was sitting outside eating an egg and tofu sandwich watching the playground, I saw three guys on road bikes riding round and round in circles like they were practicing for an indoor bicycle race. The men were wearing bike helmets. BIKE HELMETS! It was an astonishing sight. I have seen maybe two Chinese people wearing bicycle helmets and they were unique because they had fancy bikes, fancy outfits, and gloves. The majority of people in China do not wear motorcycle helmets nor bicycle helmets. While wearing my Peace Corps issued helmet, people's heads turn to watch me bike by, and they snicker. I was very surprised to see helmets on the playground. When I looked more closely, I saw that they were wearing the helmets backwards from how I would wear them.

Goodbye Sitemate

So it is very close to the end of the twenty seven month commitment to PC and my sitemate will be going home. She was the ying to my yang, and we made a pretty good team. She was the funny one while I was the serious one. She was the creative one and the one who would say, "Chillax," whenever I would spin into my pessimistic worry anxiety circles. She was the creative ideas behind secondary projects, the one who would push to start them while I was the organizer, the finisher, and logistics person. Now she is going home.

Lucky her.

Last night while out with Chinese strangers, friends of a Canadian we were all saying goodbye to, I realized I miss America, the non-censored me, the me who can talk about whatever she wants, date whoever she wants, be around people who are open to non-traditional ideas. One more year and then I will head back to the states to be me again.

Bicycle

This weekend is full of end of the year parties. Yesterday we gave away prizes for the reading competition. The first place winner read 1890 pages this semester. She won a clock. Then we had a watermelon eating going away party for my sitemate, almost ruined by the rain. Afterward, we went out for BBQ with some foreign middle school teachers who are leaving tomorrow.

Today we are having a Tree House worker party. The students will go on a photo scavenger hunt and then eat cake.

This morning, I woke up to voices outside my window saying "Mei you dian." (No electricity.)

Walking to School

On my bike ride yesterday, I turned around after only thirty minutes because of construction. On the bike that I have, riding in dirt and dust is not fun. Before heading home, I took a detour and explored the new six lane roads that have recently appeared around new campus. Unfortunately I ran into more dirt roads and had to walk my bike back into the city. The above picture probably in a months time will become one of those new roads.

Construction using Brick

Because I can't read Chinese characters, it is hard for me to know what the fifty dishes are on the menu. I basically eat maybe the same ten dishes over and over again because they are the ones I know the names of. Sometimes I will learn a new dish if someone in the room is eating something delicious looking. Then I will use the pointing method of communication and have the waiters write the name down in my book.

Yesterday, a table was eating a green salad with pickled little florescent green peppers. We don't really like the pickled flavor of the peppers and so I tried to use my language skills to ask for the salad without peppers. The boss and waiters looked at us strange. "What if we add these bigger different peppers?"

Not wanting to risk a dish that was too spicy to enjoy, we said, "No thank you." We felt proud that people understood our Chinese and that we were getting a plate of salad without peppers.

They shrugged their shoulders, probably thought, "Crazy foreigners," and brought out a HUGE plate of pepperless cilantro salad. Oh... the salad was cilantro? From the distance it looked like a different Chinese salad.

Ever eat a whole plate of raw cilantro?
We did.

Tailor Made Dress

So what is the verdict? Does this dress look Chinese, African, American, or a little bit of both? I feel like it is more American Chinese than African even though in Africa I would get the same style of a dress except a bit longer. The print though just isn't Guinea or Burkina. In America would it look out of place? Have I lost my American sense of fashion? I feel like the pattern is a bit too busy for America.

Also, I feel a bit naked. I don't like showing my legs. In Africa, women also did not like showing their legs. In China at least in my city, women don't like showing their shoulders, but showing legs is fine.

Chinese American in China

During my first two days in China, I was lost and voiceless, but I was expected to understand, to talk, to order food like every other Chinese looking person living in China. The pressure drove me further into a hole of hiding. After only one Chinese lesson of reciting a pinyin chart for two hours, I was expected to go out into the streets of Chengdu and order lunch. LUNCH! Food was a simple need to fill my body with nutrients that would rejuvenate and re-energize. It was a simple basic necessity of life, but scavenging for food to fill my rumbling tummy was a task full of my own fear.

Instead of being an independent American, I took the easy way out and followed the foreigners. I fed off the hospitality and patience that their white faces of being outsiders gave them. Instead of being yelled at,instead of being hurried, instead of facing impatient frustrated waiters during the rush hour of lunch trying to feed a billion people, the foreigners were given smiles of sympathy and lots of sign language to indicate cost. Et voila, we were fed. The obvious foreigners and the hospitality of the Chinese people fed me. I didn't have to open my mouth to face the wrath of expectations, expectations that I would be able to understand and fluently speak Chinese just because I looked Chinese. I was an independent American turned into a non-obvious foreigner.

Looking like a Chinese person, I become invisible. I do not have to bear the burden of being stared at every minute of the day or bear the frustrations of being yelled at by complete strangers or obnoxious school children. HALLO! Bye bye! OH KAY! I am instead surrounded by the silence of looking like everyone else. In such a profound silence, I feel peace yet within the quiet, a deep sense of loneliness overwhelms me. I do not belong to this Chinese culture of high heels, flashy feminine fashion, ankle high nylons worn with sandals, of mothers and children, of conformity, traditional values, and harmony. I am an outsider. I walk in a bubble of invisibility and am astonished by the old people in the park doing Tai Chi with swords, old men walking their birds, and fathers holding their daughters over the roots of city trees to pee. In silence, I walk. I observe. I judge. I write about not belonging.

Not only am I alone because I am just another face among the billion, but I am also alone as the Chinese face among a group of foreign faces. I feel the comfort of the familiarity of western culture, the ease of communication, the cultural references, and being among like-minded people, but because of the color of my skin I become a curiosity.

Chinese strangers wonder, “Who is that Chinese person speaking such good English among the foreign guests? Is she their translator?”

Foreign strangers wonder, “Who is that Chinese girl sitting in the group of foreigners? Does she speak English? Maybe we should start speaking Chinese to her first. Maybe we should ignore her because we can't speak Chinese. Maybe we should compliment her on how good her English is.”

It's lonely and often frustrating always correcting everyone's assumptions, always shrugging in confusion because I don't understand, always telling people I don't speak a lot of Chinese, and always being Chinese when I am Chinese American. Instead of asking and finding out who I am, everyone's first assumption is Chinese girl. Why wouldn't it be? I look Chinese. It's isolating being Chinese but not being Chinese.

In America, the instances that I do not feel alone but feel like I belong, are the points in time when my skin color is totally ignored, ignored because we are just good friends enjoying a moment together. However, as a visitor abroad, a visitor in China where everyone looks like me, being able to ignore my black hair and dark skin is near impossible. To have moments in public where my skin is ignored is rare. Maybe everyone else in China is ignoring me, but I cannot ignore my skin, the skin that labels me as Chinese when I can't speak a lot of Chinese. Plus often in those public moments, when my friends are ignoring my skin color, all the strangers around us suddenly start noticing and start to stare.

In Africa, I was correctly assumed to be a visitor, not African. I didn't have to constantly correct people. In China, I am a great unknown with automatic false assumptions being shot at me from every direction. It is strange not belonging anywhere. I'm always in a land of wrong expectations, expectations to speak Chinese, expectations not to speak English, expectations to be Chinese, expectations not to be American. I am in a land of always correcting people. I've given up and just let whatever people think, think it! I am tired, so if you want me to be Chinese, then so be it. I have learned how to be the Chinese person you want me to be and have stopped correcting. I just nod and smile. Yep. Wow, my English is really good. Yep. Sorry you can't understand my Chinese. I must be from a different province. Yep. I'm not really from America. I'm one hundred percent Chinese.

You may be wondering, why does it even matter? Once people get to know you, false assumptions are thrown out the window replaced with fact. Ah, she is Chinese American born in Taiwan adopted by white foreign Americans. Yeah! Why does it matter? In the Tree House English Resource and Community Center I am a teacher, a friend, an advisor, a person to speak English with and a resource to learn about American culture. My skin color doesn't matter anymore. No longer am I incorrectly misnamed but am correctly factually labeled. I become a human being.

In the Tree House, it is true that I feel the most accepted and respected, feel like I belong to a community and don't feel like an outsider. It is a safe haven from false assumptions where the students have made my time in China less lonely. I am no longer an outsider and am more accepted without expectations, but I can't live in the Tree House forever. I have to leave, face the country of false assumptions, and face the invisible silent bubble, but I always know that I can materialize into an actual human being whenever I visit the Tree House. It is a comforting thought to visit a place where I am no longer lonely but actually feel like I belong.

from The Tree House Book by Women Writers

Morning Work

This morning I woke up and did not want to go on a bike ride, but when I opened my inbox, I decided a bike ride would be healthy.

I have never really considered myself an angry personality. I've always been the stereotypical quiet, submissive, voiceless stoic Asian girl who never speaks her mind, rarely with a controversial opinion. Instead when asked for an opinion, I answer with a question. Strong emotions rarely shown, rarely felt, sometimes locked away.

Once while riding down to Portland, a friend asked, "Is there nothing that will make you angry? What if I smoked a cigarette in this car and threw the burning butt out the window which potentially could start a forest fire. Wouldn't that make you angry?" I searched inside and didn't feel any anger towards that scenario.

As I have grown older, had my thoughts challenged, had conflicts with people with different viewpoints, conflicts with people who think they know what is best for me, conflicts with people who tell me what to do and how to do it, I have grown angry. Instead of being the good girl who never creates conflict, I have had to learn to open my mouth and express myself.

The bike ride was good, anger dissipated through sweat and burning muscles; however, I think I will remain silent on this one. Why open a can of worms? There is no point. If I was trying to maintain a friendship or a relationship, then I would say something, but... in this instance there is no point.

Tailor Made Skirt

Here is the wrap skirt I had made. I am quite happy with it. The new tailor didn't make a skirt that was too small. Plus the butterflies were right side up instead of upside down. The labor cost 30 RMB ($4.41) and then the fabric bought in Li Jiang, Yunnan Province was 60 RMB ($9). I was able to get a sleeveless shirt and a skirt made out of the cloth. I got a phone call from the tailor and will pick up the shirt and a sundress tomorrow.

The water came back on and I was able to do laundry and mop the floors. My house is always happier when the floors look clean.

I went to a bakery looking for shaved ice, covered with beans but opted for a custard cup instead. The bakery had air conditioning. I spent a couple pages writing about guilt and debt.

Tonight in the Tree House we played Taboo then ate at the Muslim cafeteria. A guy who works for the government sat with us and wanted to be our friends. Whenever I eat in the cafeteria, no one talks to me, but because my site mate joined me, we got a lot of attention.

Wheat

After a two hour bike ride, coming home to a nice cool shower and a glass of cool water is a wonderful way to end a sweaty dusty ride; however, today the water has been turned off. While on the bike ride, I got motivated to do laundry, mop the floors, wash the dishes, cook more peanut butter soup, and do a little more packing. But... the lack of water is a humongous demotivating hurdle.

So instead, I will finish knitting my sweater T-shirt, then go out to buy some bottled water, and maybe go to the ice cream parlor to write a bit.

Getting a landscape without lines of modern society is sometimes quite difficult.

What did you worry about?

While in the USA, waiting for my departure to West Africa to arrive, the questions running through my head were as follows:

1. Have I packed the right stuff?
2. How will the next two years change me?
3. Will I be up for the challenges?

While in Africa, waiting for my departure to China to arrive, the questions running through my head were as follows:

1. Will I like living with a fridge, a microwave, a computer, a washing machine?
2. Will the university be disappointed if they get me, a Chinese American rather than a blond American?

While here in China, waiting for my departure back to the states for a one month home leave to arrive, the questions running through my head are as follows:

1. Will I be able to ride a bike everywhere and not drive anywhere?
2. Will I be able to restrain myself from buying a bunch of graphic novels and other specialty novels?
3. Will I spend all of my PC readjustment money on breakfast, steaks, ice cream, ham and cheese, sushi, Indian food, and coffee shops?

If there are any future PC volunteers waiting for their departure to China reading my blog, what are the questions running through your head?

or

If there are any PCVs reading my blog, what kind of questions ran through your head before departure?

Rich City

There are some rich people who live in my city.

The top choice for today's menu is lesson planning, my last lesson plan of the year. Today we will watch another episode of The Cosby Show, "Goodbye Fish."

Today's Tidbits

My final has been submitted and maybe it will happen in a couple weeks. I am doing my review this week just in case since no one has told us when finals will be.

The weather is getting warm and I just realized that I could use the fridge to chill water. How funny... I have spent two years in China and it is only now that I came up with that idea. I think it is because I never really thought my part of China was hot. It is nothing compared to Africa. Slowly my body has been adapting here and now I am taking two showers a day. Funny that since it is not hot, not at all. I guess I take two showers a day because my feet stink. The dust here is bad. I guess I could just bucket wash my feet.

I participated in senior group pictures today and realized that I am still angry with them for not coming to my class.

The creative writing zine is finished. Only thing left to do is to have a book reading while eating hot pot.

I was going to go see Avatar tonight, but it took too long to photocopy the zine. There was a long line. Many students were making photocopies of their final exams. I wonder how they got copies of them.

My bike ride today was excellent. I left at 7 am and the sun was high in the sky. I biked a paved road for about twelve kilos and then hit a dirt road.

I am reading Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin, and it is making me homesick.

Last thing I realized today is I am judgmental almost on the verge of prejudiced, maybe more biased than actually prejudiced. I hate that I am and am angry that I am. So why not stop? Good question.... I have to think and write about it some more.

Oh one more thing... Is it just China or is it everywhere? Big super big bug eyed big sunglasses are the fashion these days?

Blue Skies

Often in China people talk about the quality of the air and Peace Corps even gives air filters to some volunteers depending on which city they are assigned to. Instead of living in a valley where the air sits and settles, I live on top of a long and wide plateau where the wind constantly blows fresh air over the city.

Even though there are blue sunny skies up above, for some reason I am in a gray blue mood. I think I really really really need to go for a bike ride. I am going on one today.

Playing after dark

Last night, after the Tree House and after sharing plates of pork with peppers and celery with tofu, I sat under the pear tree under my flat's window and talked to my neighbors for a bit. They asked, "Aren't you going to the English meeting?" Well that is what I thought they had said and replied, "No one invited me." Then I realized they had said, "Are you going to the music meeting?" I still can't hear the difference between English (ying yu) and music (ying yue).

So off I went to our performance hall and listened to a music teacher give a singing concert.

Walking home, the garden was full of people, the dorms and homes a bit too hot for comfort. These girls were baking a cake, freshly picked leaves decorated with red flowers.