(Made in China)

Mei Banfa?

2010-10-13T19:11:00.000-07:00

“A woman with a voice is by definition a strong woman.” This quote by Melinda Gates was our guiding light for last night’s women’s leadership group discussion. We read a passage about Rebecca Lolosoli, a Kenyan woman who started her own women’s collective as a refuge for women suffering from abuse at home.

Lolosoli spoke out against culturally accepted gender violence in her village, regardless of first being ignored and then later being beaten and harassed for her insolence. But my girls admired Lolosoli’s conviction, and we compared the severe physical risks Lolosoli faced to the types of risks we face when we speak out - whether in defense or support of someone or some cause, or merely in response to a teacher’s question in class.

“What stops you from speaking out?” I asked. They said none of the answers I had anticipated - embarrassment, fear of losing face, fear of being wrong. It was my intention to discuss these issues with them, as I have a my own personal stock of stories along these lines to share. However, to my surprise, all of them said that their main reason for not speaking out is that they are afraid that people will say it’s none of their business, especially when it comes to speaking in someone’s defense.

“So, is another person’s suffering “none of your business”? When is it appropriate to step in and help someone? Should we just... never help anyone?”

There was a long period of silence as my girls thought about it. And then Lily broke in angrily, “Even if we make it our business, other people will make sure not to hear us. It makes me so angry. I see so many problems, but what can I do? Nobody cares. Not the media. Not the government. Not even the people with the problems. They already gave up. I hate this feeling of being so... helpless.”

Another moment of silence followed as I tried to think of the most appropriate response. I asked them to look at Lolosoli again, to see if they could identify with the challenges she faced as she spoke out - being ignored by village elders, shunned by her family, eventually beaten by angry villagers. For Lolosoli, the stakes were high, and she knew with clarity that she must do what was right. The strength of her conviction is something we admire, admittedly because ours does not quite measure up.

"I don't know why I can't feel that kind of passion about anything. I wish I could, but it just seems so far from my life," said Emily. We discussed this problem, and said that coming from single-child homes, and growing up in this competitive market-based economy, we’re taught to be concerned with only ourselves, and sometimes we let our personal fears stand in the way. Sometimes we forget to look past ourselves, to look around and question whether or not the society we’re living in is “right.” And even if we disapprove, we’re taught that it’s not our business to change things. This is just merely another disguise for the same 'ole problem of having our voice taken away.

The beauty in Melinda Gates’ words is that it reminds us that ALL of us have a voice - and it can only be taken away if we give it away. It is up for us to hang on to it - to choose if, when and how to use it. There is a great source of strength that flows merely from having this choice.

The discussion went in a direction that made me a little nervous - and I can already hear my Dad urging me to be more careful. But I am confident that I chose well when selecting the members for this group, and through these discussions and through their journal entries, I am learning so much about just how complicated it is to come of age in a society that at once has nothing and everything to do with you.

舍不得: growing pains of the heart

2010-06-30T07:25:00.000-07:00

舍不得 (shebude) can be translated as "reluctant," but as the meanings of Chinese words are deeply influenced by their context, this three-character word more accurately describes the feeling you have when saying goodbye. For me, 舍不得 is certainly more than just a feeling of reluctance - with it comes all of the good memories - the happy times that have already passed. It involves admitting that life is more linear than it is cyclical, that we cannot relive the past.

Tomorrow marks the end of the semester, and coincidentally, the end of my first year in China. I'll admit that my first semester was a challenge, but the tough times were more than compensated for by the pure joy I experienced day-in and day-out of this term. I honestly think I came as close as it is possible to being "天天快乐 (happy everyday)."

But I often think too much, and then I become afraid of my own happiness. I start to wonder how much longer it could possibly last. Of course, this type of fear is unhealthy, and it leaves me resentful of change. It leaves me 舍不得, especially when I think about my junior students, some of whom have become my best friends here in Fuling. After tomorrow, they will leave this school for their hometowns, and then most will spend the coming fall in small towns along the Yangtze, where they will practice teaching English in primary and middle schools. I won't see them until January, when they come back to report on what they experienced, but after that they'll be off again, searching the towns and cities near and far for increasingly precious job opportunities.

I did not think I could love so many people so quickly and so deeply. Last semester, when I was not teaching, I was hiding out at home, spending my surplus of time on the stack of novels I lugged all the way from Hawaii ne. But this semester, I began to willingly give all of my time to them. And then suddenly, time ran out.

The more time I spent with them, the more my affection for them grew, and it has grown to the point where it is overwhelming. I am simply not used to being this generous with love, nor to being this happy.

I also did not expect to become so involved in the lives of my students - to be able to share their ups and downs: An knee injured in a soccer match, another scraped badly in a moped accident. A mother who was forced to have an abortion, another who is slowly dying of cancer, another who quietly puts up with her husband's mistress. The shame and guilt of having been caught cheating, the pride gained in having independently authored a well-written essay. The joy of singing solo in the concert hall, of winning a speech contest, of being named best actor in an English drama competition.

Their lives have become so intertwined in mine and now occupy such a big part of my heart that knowing they will leave soon really does leave me 舍不得. I can only imagine what it's going to be like next year when it's my turn to leave.

I usually enjoy thinking about the future, but that was before I knew it was possible to get this much pleasure from the present. Can life really get better than this?

A Typical Chinese Female Peasant (by Iris)

2010-04-28T00:54:00.000-07:00

I am teaching writing this semester, and I absolutely love it. I am in the midst of grading descriptive essays and just finished reading a very touching piece one student wrote about her mother. Enjoy :)

"My Mother, a Typical Chinese Female Peasant" by Iris

My mother, who is nearly sixty now, is a typical Chinese female peasant. Day after day, she toils and moils in the field. Being very pessimistic, she is always feeling sad. However, she loves me so much that she spares no effort to encourage me to face difficulties in my study and my life optimistically and bravely.

After years of hard work, she is skeleton thin. Her face is without flesh. It looks like a skeleton which was covered by a piece of gray skin. The bones in both her cheeks are noticeably protruding. Her eyes, filled with sadness, can only show some signs of happiness when she hears my good news. Wrinkles spring up on her forehead and become denser with age. Her lips are pale white. When she shows her teeth one can see how black they are, covered by dirty things calculated year after year. Because she never brushes her teeth. There is no such thing as tooth brush or tooth paste in her mind. And her hands make me think of dried tree branches. And her neck, because of an accident in her childhood, is deformed and bends towards the left side.

This is not an attractive image, absolutely. But I admire her. It is her skinny hands that give my brother and me great support. Now, being far apart from her, she misses me very much. Once I called her on the line, she cried uncontrollably. I was thinking whether to go home or not during the QingMing Festival. She said in a sullen voice, "My dear, come back. I miss you too much." She had some problem with her body. But when I arrived home, she said happily, "When you come back, my illness goes away immediately." Hearing this, I sobbed. I can't give her company for the sake of my study.

As time flies, I am worried about her health. She is skinny. Any disease may take her away from me. I hope that day will never come.

Humbled by Hessler

2010-02-26T06:17:00.000-08:00

Peter Hessler is the pride and joy of Fuling, at least as far as my site mate and I are concerned. After reading his book, River Town, and comparing his experiences with my own, I couldn't help but wonder if such big disparities exist not so much because times have transformed this town, but that he and I just see the world entirely differently.

I tend to think books do change the world, that words do set change into motion. But should change be the purpose of writing? After half a year of Peace Corps service, a humbling experience in and of itself, I can't say that I disagree with Peter Hessler's opinion on this matter:

taken from http://urbanatomy.com/index.php/arts/why-i-write/2770-why-i-write-peter-hessler

Does writing change anything?
To be honest, I don’t care, not in the strictest sense. I’ve never been a political person; I tend to get bored when people talk about policy and big-picture things. I suppose that my time in the Peace Corps made me more realistic about a person’s impact, and more cynical about a certain type of idealism.

But Americans are attached to this idea, especially with regard to the developing world. You look at the books that sell well in the States, the best-selling books about poor places, and they tend to be about a foreigner who is trying to save people. You have Three Cups of Tea or Mountains Beyond Mountains. Individually these books can be great, and they tell important stories, but it concerns me a little that this approach tends to dominate the bestseller readership with regard to the developing world. The other main option is books about atrocities – child soldiers, or sex slaves, or things like that.

I wonder about the impact of these books, and I wonder about the vision they promote of the developing world. Americans seem to read these books and conclude: Thank God I was born in the good old U.S. of A. instead of in some crazy country like this. Or they think, We really need to fix these places. They conclude that if you’re going to live overseas, you need to be either a saint or insane. There’s no sense of normal life in a developing country – no sense that you might live in one of these places and have an enjoyable life, and make friends you respect and like. Obviously, there are some countries where it’s just not possible to live a normal life, because things are so troubled – but these places tend to dominate our perception of the world; they are represented disproportionately.

As a result there’s no real connection with the people, not in terms of understanding them and being able to put yourself in their shoes. These books don’t come out of a deep anthropological instinct. The basic interest is more along the lines of changing the world than understanding the world. But this has always been the classic American weakness beyond its borders. People want to get involved, and they want to change the world, but they don’t want to be patient. And they aren’t inclined to grant others the dignity of figuring out their own path.

One thing I liked about being in China was that I couldn’t over-estimate my significance, either as a teacher or as a writer. When I arrived with the Peace Corps, the country was clearly going its own way, and that’s still the case. Foreigners have some impact, but they aren’t guiding the country, and it’s not a playground for NGOs like so many parts of the world. The state-level stuff is of questionable value. When a head of state like Obama goes to Beijing, he’s performing certain rituals that are part of big-picture politics, but he’s not making a lot of earth-shattering decisions that will change China. In a sense, he has a lot less leeway than a migrant going to Dongguan looking for a factory job. So as a writer you’re best off sticking with that migrant or somebody like him; you should try to understand Chinese people. You try to figure out their stories and their motivations, and you try to write in an artful way. As far as I’m concerned, that’s enough. Good writing should enlighten and entertain, and it should have some quality of art. But it doesn’t have to change policy or raise funds for a cause. Plenty of other people are trying to change the world, often in heavy-handed ways that do as much harm as good.

But perhaps Jung Chang, author of the fantastic Wild Swans, gave the best answer:

Does writing change anything?
Yes, my life.

Xiexie Day

2009-11-26T21:06:00.000-08:00

It's Thanksgiving Day in America, and I'm doing everything I can to keep from conjuring up images of KTA's roasted turkey and Aunty Judy's pumkin pie. My mouth is watering not only because I really wish I could be at home for this holiday, but because I am seriously hungry.

For the past couple of days, I haven't been able to hold down my food, thanks to some kind of bug that has made me feel quite seasick. I felt so queasy yesterday that I left my class early to celebrate the rest of Thanksgiving by wallowing in misery in the comfort of my bed. You know how misery is - it makes you forget the many things you should be thankful for.

After sleeping all afternoon, I got a call from one of my students. Our conversation went something like this,

"Where are you?" she demanded.
"Um, hi.. I am in bed."
"Yes, I hear you are sick. I will see you at 5 o'clock!"
"Huh? Okay, see you."

I fell asleep again and was awakened by tiny fists raising havoc on my door. I rushed over in my fleece pajamas and hot pink house boots, not giving a damn that I looked more like a ten year old than a teacher. I opened the door and in rushed two of my students. They brought with them a bowl of hot noodles, a bag of apples and pears, and their dinners.

"We have come to celebrate with you!"
They ordered me to eat the bowl of noodles, saying that it would make me feel much better. Obediently, I carefully slurped down the salty noodles as they downed their bowls of spicy dumplings. Who knows, perhaps sickness is partly a state of mind, for by the end of the evening, I actually did feel a little better - while I wasn't able to hold down those noodles, I was reminded of how thankful I am to have such sweet students.

So while my Thanksgiving was not as gloriously festive as it usually is (although, I admit, I am guilty of romanticizing it), the holiday still did everything it was supposed to: it prompted me to give thanks. :)

Halloween Party II

2009-11-03T04:23:00.000-08:00

The party went well. It really wouldn't have been possible if not for my committee of students, the Magnificent 7, as well as a few of their friends who helped set up and clean up. The Mag 7 did everything from helping me run the games, work the computer, bribe the room cleaners for an extra hour of electricity, and serve popcorn to the 200 guests.

When most of the students arrived, Kathy welcomed everyone and told them she had a special guest: Barack Obama. I walked in with my Obama mask, and the crowd went wild. Believe me, I am plenty vain enough to have thoroughly enjoyed that brief moment of superstar status. And I definitely did stand and wave for a full minute before delivering my presidential message.

After I was done basking in Obama's glory, we started the games. They were a mess, as the contestants either did not understand the directions, or chose to ignore them. I doubt the former, for I'm sure Kathy did a great job translating my instructions into Chinese. Regardless, the games were fun and the crowd seemed to enjoy them. During one of the balloon popping relay games, in which the point was to blow up a balloon and then pop it by sitting on it, one of the plastic stools broke, sending a contested hurtling onto the floor. The audience sure loved that, and luckily the girl was unhurt.

Once the games were through, we passed out popcorn to everyone. Yes, all of the 200 guests got popcorn. I bought a ton the day before in Fuling and spent a good part of the afternoon popping them, so you can imagine how thrilled I was that there were enough people to eat it all. Then I showed "Twilight," mostly because Edward is hot, and also because there were supposed to be Chinese subtitles. But as always happens in my classes, the computer system failed me and I could only get the English subtitles to work. So in the end, I lost about half of my guests. The ones who were stayed were those of my students most dedicated to mastering English, and I have a feeling that they stayed only because they didn't want to hurt my feelings by leaving. Or because Edward is really hot. :P

All in all, I would say the party was a success, but I am so, so glad that it's over with. Organizing an event is stressful when you lack guanxi and the ability to communicate directly with key people. In time, though, I'm sure it'll get easier.

Here's some pics:

Halloween party

2009-10-29T06:50:00.000-07:00

I had no idea what I got myself into when I said "YES!" to a student to who asked for a Halloween Party. Heck, I'm all for sharing a holiday that celebrates freaks and creeps! But Halloween can a spooky thing when you're planning a party that will be attend by anywhere from 8 to more than 200 college students!

Just like in the scary stories I shared with my classes this week, party prep went horribly wrong. My site mate got called to Chengdu for PC duty :(. Then the administration said I couldn't use the big activities room and instead assigned me a lecture hall, due to which I had to scrap some of the games I had planned. Then the computer in that room wouldn't play any of my Halloween movies. It was turning into a nightmare.......

Until the Magnificent 7 saved the day.
The members: Yedda, Kathy, Rose, Olivia, Sandy, Izzy and Lily.
All of them are my students, and all of them are wonderful.

Lily's got guanxi, Yedda's a computer whiz, Kathy knows where to buy the necessary supplies. Sandy, Izzy, Rose and Olivia have pointed out things I overlooked, things I wouldn't have known to prepare for if not for their advice. The best thing is that they're all so willing to help. :)

I was going to treat them to dinner tomorrow to thank them, but then they asked to cook for me. Hah! I hope I didn't agree too quickly! So tomorrow, they're making jiaozi at my place.

I am still looking for game ideas, but so far I have 4:
Pumpkin bowling
Chubby Bunny
Footloose Balloon Pop
Balloon Squat Relay

Hopefully everyone will get a chance to play. Winners will get prizes - trick-or-treat bags, sent by Mom, stuffed with candy.

Also,there will be a costume contest IF students dress up, I will show "Hocus Pocus" IF (big, big IF!) the computer and projector work, and there will be popcorn for all IF Kathy can help me find some in Fuling tomorrow. I'm trying not to let all these IFs spook me!

hillbilly in the city

2009-10-18T22:23:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I turned 22 - that's right, the PCV baby is finally older than her students!

My site mate told the students about my birthday, so the past week has been a sort of b-day parade, with them either singing or shouting birthday wishes in unison at the start of each class. Their thoughtfulness always makes me regret having to assign work, and never have I been more tempted to scratch a lesson than today.

As soon as the bell rang this morning, my students jumped out of their seats and broke out into song, then presented me with a HUGE, beautiful cake. After confirming that I am indeed swine flu-free (according to them, there are 4 confirmed cases at our school), they had me blow out the edible chocolate candles. Flustered, I then preceded to do a lesson in the format of a Jeopardy game, but just so that you don't think I'm totally ungrateful, I announced a longer-than-usual break, during which they devoured every bit of that cake. I left for a moment to speak with a student, and when I came back, it was gone! haha I wish I had taken pictures of them - you should have seen their frosting-covered smiles! :P

Over the weekend I was able to celebrate American-style with another PCV who is also born on the 17th. I met her and her city-mates, who came in from Guizhou province, in Chongqing city, where a generous PCV hosted us. I think the most suitable adjective for Chongqing is MASSIVE. I felt like such a country hick, so in awe was I of the sheer immensity of the city - the 30M people who live there, the buildings, the light rail, the swanky shops and clubs, etc. But it's not just huge. It's actually quite beautiful too, especially at night, when the lights are reflected in the many rivers that criss-cross throughout the city.

While in Chongqing, we went shopping for Western food items, went out to a fancy Indian restaurant, and went dancing. That's right, clubbing in the Peace Corps, baby. :) I think my favorite part of the weekend was when one of the PCVs cooked us breakfast. He made French toast and CHEESE omlettes! I have been craving cheese like crazy, and I swear, none of the stores in Fuling carry cheese.

But even though I was impressed by the enormity of the city and all of its Western products, I can't imagine living there. It's a great place for a hillbilly like me to visit, but I would never last there. Laid-back Lidu is the perfect fit for this lover of lazy afternoons. =)

If you can't already tell, I love the way my students write, and I love sharing cute messages. Here's two:

I heard that you will go to chongqing tomorrow. Have a good journey. And then I want to tell you something in advance. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! In fact, we hope that you could happy everyday as bright as your smile.Happy!

Happy birthday!
Today is also my birthday.It is wonderful that we have birthday at the same day.So today is a D-day,a happy D-day.

Reading Lolita in China

2009-10-14T05:43:00.001-07:00

I can't help but follow the last post with a brief reflection on two recent reads, Azar Nafisi's Reading Lolita in Tehran and Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita. So skip this post if you're looking to read about anything that has to do with China! :P

"It is only through these empty rituals that brutality becomes possible," Nafisi writes in her memoir on her time in the Islamic Republic of Iran, lived and witnessed through the wide imaginative lenses of literature's finest. Habits, at least those that are hollowly performed, are fatal - in killing the mind, they obliterate reflection and creativity. What then, she seems to be asking, is to stop us from killing? Nabokov's term for this, Nafisi notes, is "poshlust." It denotes the "close relationship between banality and brutality."

An active mind requires much energy, and hegemony's poison, especially when offered in the form of convenience, is awfully tempting for lazy Wikipedia-reliant kids like me. Life would be much too rigorous if each experience was entirely void of familiarity, and certainly there is "good" to be found in tradition. But "good" rituals should be able to withstand our interrogation - they should not collapse from the mere puff of a question.

Nafisi exhibits yet another gem of Nabokov's: "curiosity is insubordination in its purest form." To wonder is to resist.

Later she backs this assertion, which I take to be the underlying "moral of the story," with a quip from Adorno: "The highest form of morality is not to feel at home in one's own home."

Fiction opens for us a book-sized window to morality because it "question[s] traditions and expectations when they seem too immutable." And what lies at the heart of morality? Empathy. Empathy allows us to live as someone else - not completely, but enough to make us uncomfortable, enough to provoke curiosity.

Strange how, while reading Nabokov's Lolita, I found myself empathizing with the narrator, a pedophile who lives entirely to rape his 12-year-old step-daughter. To my horror, there I was, internalizing the turmoil of the very character who epitomizes immorality. But this is merely a symptom of Nabokov's brilliance - in revealing the complexity of his characters, his words restore humanity, not only to the non-human Lolita, in her role as an object of perverted pleasure, but also to the inhuman Humbert.

As my students have the habit of saying, "in a word," Lolita is for me an extreme example of the power of the imagination.

have empty

2009-10-13T00:15:00.000-07:00

In Chinese, free time is translated as "have empty."

I teach each day until noon. Some days are hectic, but on most days, I have lots of empty.
So, what the heck do I do with all of my free time, aside from writing vapid blog entries?

Well, I read. A lot.
Lately I've been worrying that I've been spending too much time loving, betraying and dying in fictive lands, and conversing with the echoed creeds of dead philosophers, instead of investigating the nooks and crannies of this real-life Chinese adventure. After all, I did not journey all the way to the Middle Kingdom to read. Or did I?

I remember how, as a student, I'd fantasize about indulging in novels and political theory (not just the Wikipedia summaries), but I never had enough time - ironically, I never had the space for emptiness. So naturally, I take life here in Lidu as a sort of dork's paradise - a place to be wooed by Vladimir Nabokov, to be dazzled by Isabel Allende, to be teased by Karl Marx and Michel Foucault, to be humbled by bell hooks, to be inspired by Azar Nafisi and Martha Minow.

Still, because I am wary of being absent more often than I am present, I fill the void with other leisurely activities, such as playing tag with ten-year-olds, chatting (or at least, attempting to chat) with the elderly gardeners, translating in acrylic and gouache my impressions of China, and swapping ex-boyfriend stories with my site mate. But it's getting colder by the day and increasingly difficult to deny myself afternoons curled in bed with a book.

Today I was greatly encouraged by an email I received from a good friend, in which she mentioned speaking with a returned volunteer who read a book a day while serving in Africa. It's nice to know that I'm not alone in this literary la-la land. In fact, this magical little world, to which the Peace Corps is definitely invited, even has a queen, her majesty Nina Sankovitch. Now she needs to get a life. :P

china rain

2009-10-10T21:18:00.000-07:00

acrylic on... paper. there's no canvas in lidu!

National Day and Mid-Autumn Festival

2009-10-01T18:17:00.000-07:00

*dedicated to Liu Liu! holidays make me think of you :) miss you, sis!

Today in the PRC we are smack-dab between two holidays: National Day and Mid-Autumn Festival. A week of festivities translates into eight days of vacation! It's needless to say that I'm quite fond of China's version of October. =)

Yesterday was China's National Day -- the 60th Anniversary of Communist China. 60 is a number of great significance because in the Chinese zodiac, 60 is formed by the 5 elements and 12 animals. One of the teachers in my department told me that a man's 60th birthday celebration will always trump his 50th, a tradition that reminds me of the Japanese kanreki.

Because of the huge significance attached to China's 60th b-day, you can imagine what a huge deal it was, even in remote little towns like Lidu. For a week or so leading up to the big day, explosions of fireworks could be heard at all times during the night, filling the air with festive anticipation.

Nationalist sentiments of any kind usually make me feel uneasy, but I was so impressed by the scale of the preparations being made throughout the country that when yesterday finally arrived, I could not help but feel quite festive myself. Earlier in the week, one of my students taught me how to say, "Happy National Day" in Chinese, and I found myself gushing the phrase to every passerby I met. The waiban assistant later explained that people don't actually say that to each other, which explains the confused smiles I got in return...

Because most of the action was in Beijing, my sitemate and I went to the OK Restaurant in hopes of catching glimpses of the massive military parade. As we treated ourselves to cold beer and a delicious meal of lotus root, spicy eggplant and kungpao chicken, we couldn't help but gape at Aunty Huang's TV set. For a good ten minutes, a convertible carried the dignified Hu Jintao through a seemingly endless, impeccable stretch of saluting soldiers.

Unfortunately, we missed the live broadcasting of the parade, but video clips of it are all over the internet. It's utterly amazing! The snazzy uniforms, the synchronized marching, the baton twirling... check it out! Here's a good article/video/slideshow package by the NYT: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/02/world/asia/02china.html?_r=1&ref=world.

The second holiday of the month is tomorrow, Oct. 3, Mid-Autumn Festival, a harvest festival celebrated when the moon is at its fullest. In honor of the moon, which in Chinese folklore is said to be inhabited by the beautiful, luminous goddess Chang'e, the traditional food is the mooncake or yuebing. Mooncakes are delicious little pies that are usually stuffed with dried fruit and nuts. The waiban gave my sitemate and I each a big bag stuffed with various types of mooncakes, and for the past several days, I've been having them for breakfast. I know that in some parts of China this holiday is celebrated with the hanging of lanterns, but I'm not quite sure what will happen in Lidu. I'll be celebrating with some students over hotpot, so hopefully they'll be able to fill me in on Lidu's traditions.

**(updated)
Just got back from a delicious fish hotpot, and following an unfinished dinner conversation on mooncakes, a very industrious student of mine just sent me this explanation:

Hi kacie,

En! Now I am writing to you to tell you something about the moon cake.

It’s the paticular food of the Mid-Autumn Festival in china. There is an old saying, in the ancient times, there was ten suns in the sky and the heat make the crops died, consider the farmers’ lives, the emperor asked a guy named hou yi to shoot nine suns down, and then the world became cool in winter and hot in summer, the spring and the autumn is warm. After that, the emperor gave him a pill of immortality, but it was ate by his wife, a beauty everyone her Chang E and she flied into the moon and lived in the moon till today. The people lay out their mooncakes as an offering to her during Mid-Autumn Festival.

Till now, there are many kinds of mooncakes, while the basic materials are: flour, vegetal fat, white sugar, pignut, sesame, egg, sunflower seeds almond, pistachio, pecan, cashew, macadamia and something else. It all depends, different tastes would add the different materials.

Today I am very happy because I caught the chance to speak english. Thank you very!

Oh! Is that mooncake the gentleman gave you delicious ?

Ok! That’s all!

Happy everyday!

yours.

中秋接快乐！

road rage

2009-09-29T04:55:00.000-07:00

For the first time since this journey commenced, I experienced a burst of road rage. Seriously, I need to learn how to discipline without getting wild-eyed and shaky, or else I'm going to pop a vein. In that heated moment, I tossed aside all thoughts of cultural appropriateness, and now I'm left contemplating the appropriateness of "cultural appropriateness" when it comes to disciplining in the classroom. Isn't respect for teachers a universal rule that transcends cultural differences? Perhaps it's just my desperate need to justify my very wild-eyed and shaky actions today that makes me believe this question is rhetorical. But then, perhaps anger makes me irrational. I guess this is all part of learning about myself, as a person and as a new teacher, for I never had cause to yell at anybody before. Note to self: I have a temper.

It's so tempting to use this blog to vent whatever anger remains - that is, whatever hot air that did not already exit my ears as I huffed and puffed around and around the school track this evening. But I think blogging can also be a great way of giving thy self a good, hearty pep talk.

So don't get me wrong, I do love teaching and I do love my students - every one of them. They're like my children! Okay, so we're basically the same age, but still... Rotten attitudes might continue to piss me off to no end, yet nothing will stop me from smothering all of my kids with (platonic) teacherly love. After all, there's no such thing as a "bad" student!! Right? Right!

Lidu love

2009-09-25T21:23:00.000-07:00

Eva Cassidy on chilly days like this puts me in the mood to write. Her voice, the fog outside, my fuzzy pink blanket, a steaming mug of rose bud tea, and a craving for the ocean that won't go away - it feels right to begin autumn in this way.

In my last entry, I tried in vain to articulate the impression Lidu has made on me, but my toolbox of words makes such an attempt seem pathetic. And yet, that's all I want to write about.

I love the pack of jolly grandmothers who sit on the curbside outside of my apartment with their rolly-polly grandchildren, their bare baby butts exposed through pants slit for easy dumping (you won't find diapers around here!) I love Aunty Huang, the laobanr of the OK Restuarant my sitemate and I frequent almost daily, who slyly and affectionately pats my cheeks. I love the tall young noodlemaker at the Muslim restaurant who, while watching as I slurp down his tomato and egg concoction, tells me about his hometown in the faraway province of Qinghai, even though he knows I don't understand half of what he's saying. I love it when the lady who sells steamed buns will spot me coming up the ally and will get my order ready, nevermind the hungry crowd in front of her shop. I love my curious students, some of whom have shared their lives with me, making me feel like the big sister I've never been to anyone before.

I feel certain that my time here will pass quickly, waver as I might between being extremely busy, and extremely... not busy. I refuse to use the word 'bored'! For example, this past week was hectic - in addition to our classes, we went on a surprise day trip to Chongqing city (where we had what must be the spiciest hotpot in all of China), judged a speech contest, and met with students. Next week, though, I'll be doing absolutely nothing, as of yet, anyway. Next week is the start of the National Holiday. New China will be 60 years old, a celebration worthy of an entire week without classes! :) Because new volunteers aren't allowed to travel for the first three months, I'll be hanging around Lidu, looking for more things to fall in love with. =)

xiuxi no more!

2009-09-24T02:52:00.000-07:00

HO brah it's been a long time since I've written on here (and sadly, it's been just as long since I've used pidgin.) I won't waste blogospace listing my lame excuses, of which I have too many. Instead, let me simply declare that the xiuxi-ing is officially pau! In other words, da break stay ovah. :)

I've been in Lidu - a tiny farming community just a little ways from the famed River Town - for about a month now. It's gritty, remote and the weather is temperamental, but this is all part of what makes Lidu so charming. I love Lidu with a fierce loyalty, and in my mind, it rivals only Hilo, which, strangely, is also gritty, remote and plauged by temperamental weather. ... Perhaps I am also gritty, remote and temperamental? Hmm.

Ah shucks, I must end this now because my site mate and I are off to judge an English speech contest titled "Science Intelligent or Culture Smart." Our adorable students say they are just as confused about the title as we are, so we'll see how the contest goes! :D

brb!

plastic trees and all

2009-07-07T06:20:00.000-07:00

Three red plastic palm trees adorn the entryway to the Jianzhong Hotel, where we’ve been staying since we arrived in Chengdu. As you might have guessed, one glance at those trees led to wistful thoughts of Hawaii. Surely, I thought, these next two years will be long ones.

But already, these past several days have flown by. Although free time is rare, I’ve been able to explore enough of Chengdu to fall in love with it. I am crazy about the food, the people, the dynamic interactions that take place on the streets, etc., etc. Heck, I’m even starting to like the things I was initially appalled by, such as the hard beds, the hot weather and the fake trees outside of the hotel! There’s something about this city that is just so charming.

I sure didn’t expect to feel this happy and confident that coming here was the right choice. I realized this as I went on an afternoon walk, which I took in order to remember how crazy I am about China. Why would I need to remind myself that I love it here? The few of you who are familiar with a certain project I did for a class may guess that I am quietly grieving over the violence in Urumqi and that I may be questioning my role here. But a simple walk through the city was enough for me to feel at peace with loving and despising different aspects of the same thing. Whatever these mixed emotions may be, they amount to nothing less than a true appreciation for how lucky I feel to be right here, right now.

Sorry, I’ve got to go study Mandarin with Xiao Xiao, so I’ll cut this entry short and just list some random highlights from this week:

- Got a cell phone
- Gave Xiao Xiao, my Chinese friend who helped me my buy the phone, the English name Tiffany
- Visited the American Consulate and was briefed on Chinese history by State Dept. officers
- Ate traditional Sichuan food (boiled duck and veggies in a spicy broth)
- Attended an hour-long session on diarrhea Yea! Haha
- Got some very helpful teaching advice and a whole bunch of ideas for classroom activities
- Found out my host family enjoys calligraphy and has a 17-year-old daughter ☺
- Received many priceless looks from random people after they realized I don’t speak Chinese
because I’m not Chinese
- Ate LOTS of great, spicy food!

Peace Corps Training - week 1

2009-07-03T21:50:00.000-07:00

Ni men hao! And Happy 4th of July! Before I recap the events of this week, I must first say that I absolutely love both China and the Peace Corps!

We left San Francisco 5 days ago, and after an almost 13 hour flight, which took us over Alaska and Siberia, we arrived in Beijing, weary but happy to have escaped H1N1 quarantine. After another 3 hour flight, we arrived in Chengdu, Sichuan, where we will be training until August 28.

We’ve been staying in a hotel in the city for the last few days, and will be staying here until July 9, when we will move in with our host families. Up until late August, I’ll be living with a family near Sichuan Normal University, where 17 other volunteers and I will partake in intensive language classes and “model school,” where we’ll get to practice our teaching skills on volunteer Chinese students.

Each day, the Peace Corps has been keeping us busy with various conferences on things like cultural adaptation, language learning, TEFL training, and safety and security. Also, we’ve started language classes, had interviews with Peace Corps staff, and received all kinds of vaccinations.

Although we’ve been extremely busy, we’ve had time to explore the city, which I find extremely chaotic, but also quite charming! There are so many cars, mopeds, bikes and people that there’s no way you could walk down the street without being constantly hyper-attentive to your surroundings. All this was a little overwhelming for me at first, but I’m getting used to it. The restaurants and bars are really cool, and the workers are always very forgiving when I mistakenly order the wrong types or amounts of drinks and dishes!

Right now I’m on my way to language class, then my new Chinese friend, Xiao Xiao, who works as a travel agent in my hotel, is going to take me to buy a local cell phone! I’ll try to update soon, but because my blog is blocked, it takes a while to get around the great firewall!

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention! My new Chinese name is Miao Na, but you can call me Na Na! ☺

Staged

2009-06-29T22:58:00.000-07:00

More than ten hours after a tearful goodbye at the airport, I arrived in San Francisco late last night, only to get stuck in the spinning door to the Kabuki Hotel's lobby (thanks to my too-big, too-heavy suitcase). A ridiculous start to a ridiculous adventure!

The jolly porter who rescued me escorted me up to my room, where my roommate Mathilde, who flew in from France, lay in deep slumber.

Porter: "You should wake her up-- otherwise she'll get up in the morning, look at you, and be scared!"
Me: "Ha-ha. You're so funny. But it's okay, I'll let her sleep."
Porter (ignoring me and flicking the lights on and off): "Miss! Your roommate is here! Wake up!"

Not wanting to disturb my poor roommate any more, I shoved a few dollars into the porter's hand, after which he quickly vanished.

In the morning, thank God, Mathilde awoke without a scream. We groggily greeted each other, then left to explore the city. We bonded as we made our way to Pier 39, from where we could see Alcatraz, a pride of fat, sunbathing sea lions, and the Gold Gate Bridge. Since we were of the very few who flew in the night before, we got a chance to see a good part of SF (enough for me to fall in love with the city!)

We got back to the hotel at noon, and by then, the rest of the 80 Peace Corps China volunteers had arrived. We spent the entire afternoon in "Staging", or orientation, in which we reviewed Peace Corps policies, health and safety matters, and most importantly, got to know one another. It was great to finally meet in person all of my Facebook friends from the Peace Corps China forum.

Words fail to express how happy I am to be in this cohort of volunteers. Everyone is so nice! We all seem to have a lot in common - including our anxieties and aspirations. Oh, and guess what? I met another volunteer from Hawaii! This was actually her second staging, as she recently returned from Peace Corps service in West Africa.

I just returned from a fabulous sushi meal with Mathilde and four other volunteers, and will be heading to bed soon because we're leaving for the airport at 5 a.m. tomorrow. After a 12.5 hr flight to Beijing, I'll finally be in China!

We've been warned that, due to the H1N1 pandemic, when we land in both Beijing and Chengdu, Chinese health inspectors dressed like astronauts will come on board to check everyone's temperatures. If we escape quarantine, we'll spend the first week at a hotel in Chengdu, then be sent to live with our host families for the duration of Peace Corps Training.

I'm not sure when's the next time I'll have internet access, so until then, take care! <3

dressing room anxieties

2009-06-02T18:55:00.000-07:00

"Are you scared?"
It's a question I get asked almost everyday.

For a long while, I was incapable of having other emotions aside from excitement. Surely a wiser person would have been at least a little nervous! Now, though, with little else but the Peace Corps to think about, I feel the cocoons coming undone in my tummy.

The first big wave of nervousness hit me last night as I tried on a pants suit. Somewhere in my stack of Peace Corps papers there is a memo that says that in China, volunteers are expected to dress professionally. If you know me, I pretty much live in shorts and tanks. In fact, I didn't have any business clothes until I began shopping for the Peace Corps, and it's no wonder -- they make me look hideously pretentious. I stood in front of the mirror, gaping at my reflection, freaking out over not matching up to the image of a university instructor. Don't worry, this was a rare moment when I let my childish appearance get the best of me.

Nevertheless, this moment of image dissonance thrust me into a spiral of other doubts, causing me to question why I agreed to teach at a university, as opposed to a primary school. But I love the college environment, and I am looking forward to being surrounded by Chinese students my own age, so my insecurities didn't hold me down for long.

I thought back to a recent conversation I had with Brandy, who will be entering UH-Hilo's teaching program this summer. When I confessed that I am far more concerned about not being a good teacher than I am about being on my own in a foreign environment, she first looked at me like I was crazy, then said the most encouraging thing: wanting to be a good teacher is a huge part of being a good teacher. I hope that's true, because believe me, there's no shortage of desire here!

I still regret not having at least some teaching experience, as do a lot of other China 15s, according to FB bios. Hopefully I will be able to learn lots from them during training!

who's laughing now? (reflections on joining the PC)

2009-05-28T00:28:00.000-07:00

The hardest part about applying to the Peace Corps is the waiting. What makes it even worse is that I am definitely not a patient person.

After a summer of interning at the Tribune Herald, I entered my senior year of college more confused than ever about what I wanted to do after graduation. Try to get a real job? Yeah right, I'm way too immature for blazers and heels. After dismissing the 'real world,' I thought about getting my masters in journalism, but through my internship I realized that the most important lessons can't be bought with a $40,000 degree. Resenting the unnecessary financial hole I was about to dig, I half-heartedly (and half-wittedly) printed out applications to a few journalism programs that I had my eye on, all the while telling people that heck, if all else fails, there's always the Peace Corps.

My mistake? Making jokes about the Peace Corps without really understanding what it was all about!! Go on, call me an ass, I deserve it! Anyway, one day early in September, out of boredom, I logged onto the Peace Corps site and was immediately taken aback by the plethora of opportunities to help, learn and explore. If you could have heard my thoughts, they would have sounded something like, "Wow, AIDS prevention in Africa! OMG, look at all the Asian countries! No way, CHINA??!"

I quickly made an appointment with Rosemary, a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer and Manoa's Peace Corps representative, to whom I owe much thanks for taking me seriously before I was serious. After she patiently answered all of my naive little questions, I went home and tossed out my grad school applications. What started as a joke ended up being the only thing I seriously wanted to do. How's that for a little bit of karma?

By the end of September, my mind was made up, and I filled out my application and indicated that I'd like to be considered for an English teaching position. (Journalism and Political Science degrees didn't qualify me for other cool jobs in the health or environmental fields.) Then in mid-October, I had an interview with Heather, another returned volunteer and the regional recruiter from San Francisco, who comes to Hawaii twice a year to interview applicants. She exuded enthusiasm and gushed about the Peace Corps, making the interview, which I had been nervous about for weeks, a surprisingly fun experience. She nominated me for a program in Asia (no, I didn't know which particular country), and asked that I be open to serving in other regions. Then the waiting began...

Shortly after being nominated, I underwent a series of health exams, including a dental exam, for which I had my wisdom teeth removed. Ick! Then began the long and painful process of convincing my parents that I'd be alright, that the Peace Corps means business when it comes to safety.

Other than that, I basically sat around, twiddling my thumbs, worrying that no government would formally invite me to serve in their country, and wondering if I had made a mistake by not applying for graduate school. It didn't help that my political science classes were rocking my socks off, and I started to wish that I could spend forever in that department, a real possibility if I handed in a Manoa grad school application. I almost did it, and then...

It was March! And I finally heard back from the Peace Corps. The recruiter, bless him for not forgetting me, asked in an email if I'd like to volunteer in China. I was about to reply a YES!, but then I read on and saw that I'd be teaching at a university in a city. Totally NOT what I signed up for!

What happened to working with children in a remote village? The cliche Peace Corps experience? As I thought about it, fond memories of studying abroad in China swayed me to the affirmative. The recuiter said he'd talk to the program coordinators, and let me know whether they thought I'd be a good fit. If not, he said he'd try to get me placed in another Asian program that would begin in August (I think it's Cambodia).

The longest two weeks of my life passed before I got an email saying that a formal invitation was on its way via FedEx, a.k.a. snail mail. The email said nothing about which country was inviting me, so I waited and waited and waited. Aside from learning that FedEx's 2-day service takes more than 2 days when sending mail to Hawaii from Washington, D.C., I discovered that CHEEPONO, I was being sent to CHINA!

After accepting the invitation, I underwent Round 2 of health exams, this time for the Chinese visa application. Currently, I am waiting for the Peace Corps to send information on staging, the 2-day orientation in San Francisco, that begins on June 29. Hopefully the pack of information will contain instructions on how to obtain my plane tickets. I don't think I'm going to fully believe that I'm going to China until I can hold those plane tickets in my hands! It still feels too good to be true. :)

I need a chill pill because AHHH I AM SO EXCITED!!!!!!

Heather, Rosemary and me at a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer dinner.

Ni Hao/Aloha!

2009-05-22T21:07:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my Made in China blog! Okay, so I'm not in China yet...

Hopefully this will be an efficient way to keep you updated on my time as a Peace Corps university English instructor in western China.

I have about a month to loaf around in Hilo before the adventures begin. Having just finished a paper-writing marathon for my last semester of college courses, I am perfectly content to sit around and daydream about what life will be like in the Peace Corps. When I applied, I had imagined myself teaching basic English to children in a remote Asian village, but when I got my invitation to teach at a university in a Chinese metropolis, I was as surprised as I was excited! I absolutely loved studying abroad in China, and am thrilled to be going back!

Here's a basic timetable of what I'll be doing (much of this is guesswork, based on what I gathered from other Peace Corps China blogs):

June 28, 2009: leave Hawaii for San Francisco, where we have a 3-day Peace Corps orientation

July 1, 2009: fly to Chengdu, China and begin 3 months of language, skills and cultural training. I'll be staying with a host family.

August, 2009: find out which university I'll be assigned to for the next 2 years. I'll probably be living in an apartment complex with other faculty.

October, 2009: if I make it through training, I'll become an official volunteer and will leave Chengdu for my designated site.

October, 2009 - July, 20011: ?? come and find out! =)

July 11, 2011: pau!

The Peace Corps serves China in the provinces of Sichuan, Gansu and Guizhou, and also the municipality of Chongqing. Here's an awesome map that outlines the volunteer zone, which I stole from John, a soon-to-be fellow volunteer: