Journeys and Luggage

I first read The Great Divorce on my high school senior trip to Fort Lauderdale; C.S. Lewis and I hung out at the beach a lot that week.

At a different stage of life, I'm happy to announce this book is just a great the second time around. Honestly, it's taken me several days to work through the preface, trying to wrap my head around all that Lewis is proposing and taking to heart the words of this brilliant mind. 

You cannot take all luggage with you on all journeys; on one journey even your right hand and your right eye may be among the things you have to leave behind. We are not living in a world where all roads are radii of a circle and where all, if followed long enough, will therefore draw gradually nearer and finally meet at the centre: rather in a world where every road, after a few miles, forks into two, and each of those into two again, and at each fork you must make a decision. Even on the biological level life is not like a river but like a tree. It does not move towards unity but away from it and the creatures grow further apart as they increase in perfection. Good, as it ripens, becomes continually more different not only from bad but other good...

I believe, to be sure, that any man who reaches heaven will find that what he abandoned (even in plucking out his right eye) has not been lost: that the kernel of what he was really seeking even in his most depraved wishes will be there, beyond expectation, waiting for him in 'the High Countries.' In that sense it will be true that those who have completed this journey to say that good is everything and heaven is everywhere...

But what, you ask of earth? Earth, I think, will not be found by anyone to be in the end a very distinct place. I think earth, if chosen instead of heaven, will turn out to have been, all along, only a region of hell: and earth, if put second to heaven, to have been from the beginning a part of heaven itself.

-C.S. Lewis

"Is it a Dragon?"

Wednesday nights I teach a C2 class (six and seven year olds).  Meet Juliet, Kevin, Dennis and Liam. I'm actually pretty crazy about them.

While I'm fond of all my students, I absolutely delight in these four. It is one of those classes teachers dream about. Besides coming to two hours of English class after being at school all day Wednesday, they are polite, they are energetic and they do a great job following instructions. 

Tonight we talked about animals — a thrilling topic if I do say so myself. I was so impressed by each student's participation and excitement about the topic.

"What is it?"

"It's a dragon."

"Is it a rabbit?"

"No, it's a dragon."

"Is it a bird?"

"No, it's a dragon"

"Is it a dragon?"

"Yes, it's a dragon."

And on and on we went. 

I think highly of my students who are not afraid to make speaking mistakes, and at the same time are correctable. They listen rather than making the same errors over and over. These four are all great at this. I wish I had their boldness and teachability when practicing my Mandarin. 

Take Liam for example. He is by far the youngest in the class and really struggles with his reading. He could so easily tune out of the class and passively participate. But he works hard and contributes great things to our class time. I see him each week get a little more comfortable with his speaking. It's fun to watch this growth. 

Juliet on the other is ahead of the game. She has the answer before I finish asking the question. And yet she doesn't have to be the one who always answers the questions. She's a team player, and she has the most welcoming spirit.

I love only having to teach one class on Wednesday because it's fun to pour all my energy and efforts into one class. Especially this class. 

Provisions

After an eventful St. Patrick's Day, nothing could have been more refreshing than my day spent at the park. Some friends and I made plans yesterday to go to this particular park, but Licson's partner was ill today, leaving Lilyth and I to take in the beautiful scenery and warm Guiyang air on our own. Though sad that Licson could not join in on the fun, I admit it was nice to have a girls' day of sorts. 

Parks in China differ from the States. In Texas at least, parks connote large plastic jungle gyms, sand boxes and perhaps a tennis court or two. But here the parks have large lakes, mountains and all sorts beautiful scenery. Lilyth and I climbed a mountain where a Buddhist temple rested on top. As we climbed she explained more to me about Buddhist religion, helping me better understand all the symbolism and telling me stories of coming to this temple with her family as a child. 

In the times I have lived in China, I have found Buddhist temples to be some of the most beautiful and peaceful places in the country. When living in Fujian, I would often go to a temple near the university where I lived. I of course am not a Buddhist nor do I have plans of ever becoming one, but this temple was built up in the mountains, and it was such a nice place to get away from the busy Chinese streets. I would take a sack lunch, climb out on to a particular rock that overlooked the city and rest for a while.

I felt the same sort of restfulness today; as Lilyth worshipped, I walked around snapping photos and enjoying the mountain-top view. We had a nice meat-free lunch at a little restaurant at the monastery and prepared for our descent. 

Apparently this park is known for its monkeys; I have never been so close to so many monkeys. Honestly, I found myself a bit nervous about the situation and couldn't help but imagine all those creepy flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz. Lilyth informed me that the monkeys are so used to people feeding them that they will jump on you if they want your food or water. And this made me even more worried. 

But my favorite part of the afternoon was getting to sit next to the lake and chat with Lylith. Though I have only been in Guiyang about two weeks, I'm already thinking and praying about what life should look like after this six months is up. I know August will come quickly and I don't want it to find me unprepared. I enjoy my job, but I don't see myself being an English teacher forever. 

I've long dreamed about living in China, and I honestly love it. In so many ways, this time here is an answer to prayers I have been praying for years now. But I also love my family, and I love my hometown. I love the idea of being involved in a church and watching Elizabeth Colton grow up. I feel my dreams shifting and that scares me.

It feels like I have to choose between two very distinct lifestyles, and I often feel incapable of making this sort of decision. I don't have to make the decision today nor does the decision affect my ability to enjoy the day at hand. It's just a nagging reality that I can never quite shake. 

I had a dream last night that perpetuated a lot of these questions. I woke up frustrated, and my first thought was to e-mail a friend from home or to Skype my dad and ask for some wisdom. 

But I decided otherwise. 

Rather I chose to confide in Lilyth, to share with her what was taking place in my thoughts and get some feedback. She too is at a point of transition, with many of her own plans and dreams hanging in the balance. It was such a good thing for me to sit at a lake and have this conversation with my friend and not because I now have a better answer to this conundrum. I don't. But it's nice to realize I have friends in Guiyang who I care about and who care about me. I'm not at a place in life where I can run over to Kristine's house after work or meet Stephanie for breakfast at the Cupboard. I can't take a walk with Jess or grab coffee with Shannon. 

In all my plans and hopes of moving back to China, Lilyth and Licson, Winona and Bear weren't, at the time, in the picture. But they're here now, and my friendships with them allow me to navigate life with some great people in the absence of loved ones back home. At some point I'm going to have to make those hard decisions about what comes next for me. And while I don't look forward to that day, I'm reminded by these relationships that I'm provided for. I'm always provided for. 

The Smell of Clean Laundry

I love slow, lazy mornings; the kind of morning where you don't have to be anywhere or get anything accomplished. Tuesday is my self-imposed laundry day, and in between pulling clothes out of the machine and hanging them to dry outside my bedroom window, I have enjoyed a relaxing morning at home, puttering around the house and chatting with friends in Texas. 

Still, this laundry task feels like a defeat before I even begin. I enjoy nothing more than to smell like soap and freshly washed clothes. But no matter how hard I try, by the time my clothes dry they share the aroma of the bar next to my apartment. Oh well.

My time in Guiyang continues to satisfy my spirit. I'm making dear friends and enjoying work that I feel both betters my community and brings great personal fulfillment. It's strange to live outside the rat race that I've grown up in, where I can enjoy a laid-back morning and the demands of the day can wait for me to finish washing my clothes. The world seems to unfold a little more slowly in this place. It's lovely. 

We Found a Piece of Soil

I put a lot of pressure on myself to do things on my own. I want to be able to take care of myself, but sometimes it's just more efficient to use my resources: my Chinese friends.

Today was one of those days. I needed to mail a package and put minutes on my cell phone, and I wasn't sure how to accomplish either of these tasks. My friend Bear, who was working at the school, said she could help me out. 

As we were leaving the post office, I told Bear that I had seen an English sign earlier that morning for something called Soil Cafe. I inquired as to what it was. Bear, being in the know, told me it was an American-run coffee shop and asked if I wanted to go. I already felt bad that she had left work to traipse across Guiyang with me, but she assured me it was not a problem.

"You work for Aston and you are new in town," Bear said. "So this is my work."

We walked several blocks to Soil Cafe, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Coffee culture is different in China than it is in the United States, and I didn't want to get my hopes up. 

But it's amazing. I knew it was a winner when they started playing The Weepies music. The Weepies in China! 

I'm confident this two-story hangout will serve as a great refuge in the months to come. The coffee tastes great, the atmosphere is pleasing and the natural sunlight is perfect for an afternoon of lesson planning or, like today, warm drinks with a friend. 

Stopped in My Tracks

A new teacher in a new city, I often find myself responding to the world around me in more task-oriented way than I would like. It's hard to really let myself rest; I'm always thinking about how to get from one place to another, how to improve my teaching and how to communicate basic needs in Mandarin.

Yesterday I had eight hours of classes and I was running late to work. I try to avoid taking taxis if possible because walking is both good for my health and helps me become better acquainted with my new home. So I picked up my pace, walking briskly through Guiyang's traffic-laden streets.

As I walked (more like jogged,) I mentally ran through my day, attempting to prepare myself for interaction with and instruction for about 50 Chinese students.

Aston is on the third floor of a building on ZhongHua NanLu, and as I approached the school I was slowed down by the family in front of me, obviously headed toward the same destination as me. Still lost in thought and not really paying attention, I kept wishing this family would walk faster. I had to get to work, I thought.

When I finally snapped out of my trance, I realized that the son of the family walking ahead of me was disabled; he appeared to me to have Cerebral Palsy. This scene caught me off guard because I've never seen a disabled child in a context like this. Not in China.

The family realized I was walking behind them, and I think they were embarrassed by the situation, that one of the foreign teachers was waiting on them. They stepped aside as to let me pass them, but I instead smiled and signaled for them to go on ahead of me; I could wait. Being on time no longer felt so imperative.

What I wanted my face to express in a way that I could not adequately convey with words was that I understood what it feels like to be a part of a family that's a bit outside the norm. These three could never have known how much they encouraged me in that moment. And while I'm sure they felt incredibly self conscious about the situation, I couldn't help but inwardly celebrate the testimony of this unique family.

The photos below are snapshots of the eclectic scene I observe on my way to the school. 

Let the Music Lead You

With two weeks of teaching now under my belt, I've enjoyed watching each of my 18 classes take on a personality of their own. My presumption was that I would most enjoy my lower level classes, but I think my my C14 students (15 to 17 years olds) are in a pretty strong ranking for NO. 1. 

C14 is the highest level Aston offers, so these kids are sharp. Three students — Clark, Laura and Candy — comprise the class, and I enjoy the laid-back atmosphere and interesting conversations I get to share with them each Sunday morning. 

Today's topic of conversation was music. I must have been wearing my excitement on my sleeve, explaining terms like ballad, time and metre. My dad would have been ever so proud. I enjoyed watching my students get into the lesson, their eyes brightening and their minds engaged. But who isn't interested in music? It makes for a great English lesson as I would soon find.

We played all sorts of listening games, and I gladly introduced my class to a smattering of my favorite musicians, including Billy Joel, the Temptations, Ella Fitzgerald, U2 and Radiohead. 

You can't talk about music without dabbling in culture. I knew that in order for my students to enjoy the songs they were hearing they had to first understand the context from which the musicians were coming. One of their activities was to listen to the Jens Lekman song "I Saw Her at the Anti-War Demonstration" and complete a gap-fill worksheet of the printed lyrics. 

For those unfamiliar with Lekman's work, this Swedish musician is both clever and wordy. I knew that his lyrics would be over my students' Chinese heads, but I decided they were up for the challenge. As I pre-taught some of the concepts and phrases they would hear in the song, I at one point just had to chuckle out loud. I am a dreamer through and through, but I never imagined teaching a class of Chinese English students what vegan pancakes are or why people in the West go to anti-war demonstrations. Of course my class didn't catch any of the song's humor. I, on the other hand, was thoroughly entertained. With them.

But the crux of the class, the absolute climax was the mini American Idol performance we put on. I explained to the students what the word genre meant, giving them examples from my music library. They were to then choose a music genre and write the chorus to a song appropriate for that genre. 

It's Chinese modesty to assume incompetence when given certain tasks, and my students responded accordingly. They looked at me with a blank stare that communicated, "There's no way I can do that." I told them that they were completely capable of writing a few short verses, but that if they were too embarrassed to sing in front of the class, I would be content to let them merely speak their lyrics out loud. 

And the song writing began. 

I didn't think any of them would want to actually perform but was happily surprised when Clark, who had been the most quiet during class asked if he could sing first. The bar had been set. At once, they all started practicing their songs, humming out loud and trying to memorize their lyrics. I knew I was in for a performance. 

Clark's genre was pop music, which just in case you didn't know, is a BIG deal among Chinese youth. Oh, and he sang —loudly and with great passion. Just imagine Josh Groban. Except Chinese. And 17. And terrible. 

It would have been one thing had his song been about love or heartache or painful growth — some issue with a lot of emotional pull. But Clark instead decided to sing about studying, about he was going to increase his daily homework dosage. This of course made his performance all the more compelling. 

Candy came next, and after Clark's performance, I could tell she was intimidated to follow her classmate's soul-wrenching act. Candy is your quintessential Chinese teenager: conscientious and thorough. After humming for something like two minutes and trying to find the perfect melody for her lyrics, I told Candy I was sure she she would do a great job, that she should go ahead and perform. And what I received was a beautifully nasal rendition of love and loss. I could tell she was very proud of herself.

Lastly came Laura, my free sprit. I love Laura's transparency and unconventional personality (a bit of a novelty in China,) so I was surprised when she said she didn't want to sing her song. I told her she was not required to sing but that I would like for her to share her lyrics with her classmates. And she did. She also asked if she could sing another song, and the class got to listen to Laura sing Avril Lavigne's  "Complicated" — all three verses.

Throughout the activity, I kept studying my students, trying to gauge their reactions to the cheesiness in which we were partaking. I for one was having a difficult time not falling out of my chair in laughter. In fact, there were several times when I had to put my hand over my mouth in fear that my students would see me laughing and think they were being made fun of. 

Several years ago I interned at a Chinese newspaper, and one of my tasks was to help judge a writing contest for young English learners in the Xiamen area. I soon learned that the Chinese treasure all things sappy and emotional. To them cliches are beautiful and poetic. Just think about the uber cheesy greeting cards you read at the supermarket. Yeah, the Chinese eat up that kind of stuff. 

So an activity that I intended to be funny and lighthearted, my students interpreted as powerful and moving. They were inspired by their peers' creativity and soulfulness. I was mostly pleased that everyone involved had a good time and really took the activity to heart.

I wish at times that there was another American in my classes, someone I could exchange glances with when things get hilarious, someone who can see life and especially humor outside this Chinese perspective. These experiences are so rich, I feel a need to share them with others. Where's a Handy-cam when you need one?