Further life and times of *liltayinchina*

 
Today at school, the children of Wuchang Experimental Primary School spent the afternoon decorating their classrooms for the big New Year’s celebration that is taking place tomorrow, Sunday, New Year’s Eve.

Mr. Ye told me this afternoon, right before Kindergarten, that we, the foreign teachers are not required to come to school tomorrow. I was already planning on it and am also very excited to spend a day with the children where I can be their friend and not just their teacher. I’m excited to get the chance to speak with them naturally and without the strict deadline of mandatory lesson completion grabbing at my heels.

On January 5th, which you might know is a Friday, there will be an English celebration from 2:30 to 4:30 in the afternoon. There will be competition among students from the fourth, fifth and sixth grades. Students from the first, second and third grades will perform for the audience. I have been asked to be one of the judges. Specifically, I am the judge from the USA, Matthew is the judge from Canada and Roy of Roy and Angela will be the United Kingdom judge. Some of my first grade girls are performing in a dance: the first song is a version of Jingle Bells on speed and the second song is an ultra-slow and thus easily understood version of “O Come All Ye Faithful” – a song which is quite religious when you’re able to hear the words as slowly and clearly as I was able to the other day during the dress rehearsal of the performance.

A select few of my second graders are also performing. They will read a poem based on the song, “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”, then they will sing the song of the same name and will finish up with a poem called, “Rain-drops”. Their performance is way too cute and some of my best and most exuberant students are participating: Andrew and Fred from Class 2A and Patrick and Jason from 2B. Ever since the first practice session where Andrew tickled me and I giggled very loudly, he chases me around and catches me when I least expect it. He tickles me and collapses in a fit when I emit even the slightest giggle. He’s got the rest of my second grade classes tickling me and it’s become dangerous to go to class before the bell because it’s now their favorite pastime: tickling Lillis!

Julia was asked to move out of the office in order to balance out the smallest office (there are three offices and each one needs to have someone to supervise the other teachers and Julia used to be head of the English teachers so she’s a likely candidate for the job) – she used to sit next to me – and Christy moved into her place. Christy is 27, married, and had a very big, baby boy about 8 months ago. She’s not only a new mother and a wife; she also is in a graduate program for English teachers. She and I have gotten closer and closer ever since she moved into my office. Today, we talked about George Bush, the execution of Saddam Hussein, the stressful nature of the Chinese co-teacher’s job as compared to the cushy one of the foreign teacher, the extreme control over the co-teacher’s that the Principal requires of Mrs. Li and Mr. Ye (Mrs. Li is Mr. Ye’s boss) and what I did in America before coming to China.

When Christy asked me what my salary was in Seattle before coming to Wuhan and I told her the equivalent in RMB, she gasped, stared hard at me and tried her hardest to ask in a nonchalant way, “Why on earth did you leave such security for a job you’ll only stay in for a year and one in which you have no training?” Excellent question. I mean, of course, I’ve got my reasons and I am confident that they are good reasons, at least they’re good reasons for me and that’s all that really matters, but it is interesting talking about such things with someone who can’t relate to my choices or interests. And, it isn’t that she just doesn’t think the way I do, it’s that she doesn’t have the LUXURY to understand. If Christy were to really start to think about it, as she told me today, she thinks she’d find that she’s very unhappy. But she can’t afford to be unhappy and thus she plugs away at her current life with the best attitude she can muster. And, if you ask me, it is a very excellent attitude. She’s very serious and matter-of-fact. She could be best described as my foil. (Or am I her foil? Mom!!!!) and I feel that I’m learning a lot from Christy. I realize, when talking to her, that my choices thus far have been very selfish, but, and she agreed today, that’s the best way to be while you can because maybe, one day, I’ll need to sacrifice my own desires, or at least compromise them, for my family (which could mean a lot of things at this point).

I’ve started coming to terms with the vision that I am foolish. This is a view that many of my Chinese co-workers have of me, deep inside, at least. Usually it is this extreme or the opposite: they are very envious of my freedom and believe that happiness comes from such freedom. I could probably argue otherwise, though. I knew almost certainly that I’d enjoy my time in China even with the various seen and unforeseen challenges, but if you head off without even a slight purpose, being unhinged can make you feel alone and without purpose more than free. But these are thoughts that I’ve still got six months to wrestle with.

For now, I’ll put them aside and prepare for bed. I plan to dream of red lanterns, laughing children and my fledgling Chinese mingling with the budding English of my adored pupils. A new year is fast approaching. What can it possibly hold in comparison to this delightful year just gone by?

Posted by liltayinchina at 11:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I was going to write a very different entry tonight, full of smugness and arrogance (and, after tonight’s events, this entry will surely be written…eventually) but my cat is dead and everything is different now. When I was 12 years old, I acquired a stepfather. I started demanding and begging and pleading for a pet. Having no siblings, I apparently needed an accomplice – someone (and Lassie certainly was a someone) to help me get through the rough patches of growing up and becoming a definite someone myself.

My mother, after the usual caution of any parent not wanting a pet of her own and wondering whether her 12 year old really understands what it means to care for a living creature, especially one that can’t tell you what it needs or wants, conceded and took me to the Humane Society. We were in search of a kitten.

There, in a puddle of cuddliness, I saw Lassie. She happened to be the only female in the kitten soup and I picked her out immediately. That first night, she went missing. I searched for her – terrified that she had dematerialized just as quickly as she had seemed to materialize and after uncovering each corner of the whole house, it turned out that she had crawled up on top of some level books on the lower shelf of a book case in my room. Mom and I took a photo of her softness, pooled and cozy among my things and as I write this, I can remember the feeling of my heart expanding that first night. It would expand due to Lassie’s existence many times over, through the course of knowing and caring for her.

We named her Lassie because, in those first days, she went about the house, mewing and mewing as if she was trying to tell us something. Mom, having grown up on the Lassie television show, joked with our little kitten, “What is it Lassie? Has Lillis not finished her homework?” I was new to the concept of naming a creature and liked the idea that my cat was special…was like a very faithful dog – something was so unique about my new best friend and so we named her Lassie.

Tonight, when I read the email from my mother telling me about Lassie’s passing, I realized that my cat lived with my mother, just the two of them, for longer than she lived with me. Realizing this, in time with the parade of memories that include Lassie, it seems that she had a very long and “full” life. I cannot count the endless days of dozing in the sunny spots on the carpet of the house…following the sun as it made its way across the sky. It seems that the best years of my life; the rosiest years, if presented in picture form, have a soft, snuggly yet recalcitrant little critter posed in the most delightful manner all throughout.

Lassie cannot be replaced. And, now that I think hard upon this, she most likely won’t be replaced. Unless, of course, one day, I give in to the demands and pleadings and beggings of a daughter or son who needs an accomplice of his or her own.

Posted by liltayinchina at 10:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Hi.

So my mom is sleeping soundly inches away from me as I write this entry tonight. It is almost Christmas...in China at least. It's still just morning on Xmas eve in the US...specifically, it is 10am in Birmingham and 8am in Seattle. I wanted to upload a photo of mom and me in front of the mini Xmas tree and tableau that I received from co-workers at my old job in Seattle, but alas, I'm STILL finding blogging to be more difficult than writing in a paper journal with a nice, reliable pen and glue stick for mounting images.

But this entry isn't going to be about complications or worries or difficulties. I am blessed. Seriously. I have my mother with me for Christmas in a foreign land. We've had such an amazing time and I've seen, through her eyes just how much I've learned in the past six months. You see, I've been her tour guide these past six days and she's had to rely completely on me and I take it as a very good sign that she's still ready to leave the apartment each morning; ready to take on the next adventure. It seems that I've learned how to communicate and function and get around this city of mine.

Of course, there is so much more to learn and lets hope and PRAY that the UW decides that I should continue my learning in their program this coming fall, but no matter what, China is a part of my life for good and will continue to be so for as long as I'm fit to travel. 

So, here it comes: I am grateful for family and friends and love and wonder and guts and desires and passions this holiday season. To each of you who check on me and join my adventures via these entries, have a wonderful holiday and I hope you are with loved ones and finding what you need and want this year...because it is almost over! I look forward to seeing all of you next year!

Love,
Lillis 

Posted by liltayinchina at 12:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

My mother arrived in Wuhan three full days ago and we're about to start our fourth adventure. She wanted me to tell everyone that we're having "WAY too much fun!"

This is why I've been off the grid, not to mention I caught a pretty nasty cough. I told her that she had to be a guest on the blog and since I'm writing this, she's going to have to do it. SO! Look for her guest entry soon.

Although we certainly are having WAY too much fun, she did lose her giant suitcase filled with all of MY Christmas gifts - apparently it JUST made it to Beijing yesterday. She's been really great about it. I'm the one who threw a temper-tantrum. Anyway, just wanted to check in and say MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Love, Lillis

Posted by liltayinchina at 09:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I believe that China is vying for the most memorable Christmas memory ever. And, I'll admit right now that the only part that will make it the kind of rosy "isn't Christmas GREAT" memory for the annals is my mom's impending visit to share it with me.

I'm sitting here listening to a recording of the Nutcracker that I just purchased from iTunes and am currently downloading as I type this and sipping a steaming cup of brown coffee-LOOKING, as yet undefined-TASTING liquid that my co-teacher suggested I drink this afternoon when my persistent cough became worrying to her. She's already very disturbed that I'm taking some of the 10 personal/sick days granted to us foreigners, and wants to make sure that I'll be healthy for the ones where I'm still at school and responsible for the lesson.

I see I’m already getting off on the wrong foot and as the Nutcracker is starting to take off, I think I should try and change my tack. Wow. The liquid medicine has one heck of a sweet aftertaste…not exactly like hot cocoa, but I can pretend for the sake of artistic license.

The power was off at school today. Not for a minute, or ten minutes or two hours but from 7:30am to when we left at 5:30pm. It was also off this past Friday. Friday was freezing. Today was just a little bit cold – okay, I’m lying. I’m not used to being in such coldness all day. Sure, Seattle gets cold, but us Seattleites don’t LIKE being cold and tend to have all of our inside areas well heated. That sort of luxury just isn’t economical in most of the other parts of the world – especially China. So I’ve grown accustomed to wearing several layers over my long johns and doing my grading with a hat, scarf and gloves on. I’m sure I make quite a picture as I look around and giggle on the inside at all of the other foreign teachers just as ridiculously bundled as me. How the Chinese teachers manage to be WARMER than us and with seemingly HALF the amount of clothing is still a mystery, though I’ve got a few people willing to give me the insiders guide to staying very warm in a very cold office/classroom.

To make matters worse for my weakness-to-cold-self, when I ask the children, “Is it cold today?” or “Are you cold today?” (We’re doing weather in Grade 2 right now), the children giggle, not to themselves, and point and laugh at my bundled body, a la Maggie on The Simpsons or the younger brother in that wonderful movie, A Christmas Story, and say, “No! It is NOT cold today and I’m not cold, I’m HOT!”

This past Friday, when I was sitting at my desk contemplating sticking my fingertips in my lunch bowl to try and get some warmth back, Julia reminded me that the food wasn’t even that warm and asked if I’d like to go with her to McDonald’s for a warm beverage and to thaw out. I haven’t set foot in McDonald’s for food or beverage since Xi’an when I’d been drinking and it was the only food available at 2am in the morning, but I said, “Gladly!” and we were off.

We’d been enjoying our first cup of black coffee and were contemplating a refill when three other co-teachers walked in. Julia is older and not married. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable because I like Julia and enjoy chatting with her, but I also talk to the younger co-teachers in the office and have a much more amiable relationship with them since there’s absolutely no aspect of work related in our friendships. The three women that joined us at McDonald’s are also older and all three of them sit in the office next door to ours. Nancy is Julia’s good friend. She’s married and has a daughter in the 7 to 8 yr old range. She co-teaches with Eileen for 1st grade and Mustafa for 5th grade. Vivian is young but very professional and has exceptional English. She just had a big, baby boy. She’s gorgeous and teaches English without a foreign teacher. Sherry is also older and is married, I think. I don’t know if she has a child though. She co-teaches 5th grade with Lisa.

At the time that we sat and drank our warm beverages on Friday, I knew nothing of the divide that was about to become even stronger among the Chinese co-teachers. I just knew that I felt like I was being let into the older, edgier clique. These women are well educated, know what they’re doing, have real experience and are extremely capable English speakers. Given that, they spoke mostly Chinese at the table. Sherry cracked jokes and Julia translated them through her laughter. I’d never seen her so giddy or comfortable among other co-teachers. I’ve learned a lot more about her and am so excited that my mom is bringing coffee from the states as a gift for Julia – she will cry, I’m sure of it. Tears of joy, of course. The woman loves coffee more than anyone I know and I’ve both lived in Seattle and been a barista!

(I’ve got to cut this “short” – need to make a test and write some lesson plans and it’s already 11:30pm. I just figured it was high-time for a blog entry even though I’ve had a hard time FINDING the time…time, time, time, time….)

Posted by liltayinchina at 11:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

(This entry was started last Thursday and finished up tonight. Our first class was Nov. 30th)

Drawing class was tonight. It was INSANELY awesome and funny. Eileen waited for me in the office while I taught my last Kindergarten class of the week. She and Daisy managed to get locked INTO the office somehow. By the time I was finished with Kindergarten, they'd called maintenance, which had come and helped them unlock themselves from the room.

It happens to be Eileen's turn with the light bought of depression - she doesn't know what's going on in her classes; she's having problems with a co-teacher; she feels like she's wasting time when she's not in the classroom teaching: basically, she's feeling most of the feelings I was grappling with mere weeks ago. When I left her about twenty minutes ago, she was less depressed and more overwhelmed. Here's a brief explanation:

We left the school and went to "mini-walking street" to grab a fast dinner. Among the several options for Chinese snack food, we chose the "mushroom-rice-omelet", which is exactly that. After eating much too quickly, we walked back out to the street and hailed a taxi to take us to the art institute. Robyn had text-messaged me the Chinese characters for the name of the art institute and I showed our taxi driver. He seemed to know exactly where to go and sped off. We were caught in traffic and I remember dozing for a minute and then the driver slowed in front of a gate that was not familiar from this past Sunday. In the meantime, Julia Zhu (the woman who helped sign us up for the classes) had called me to say that she would be waiting for us in Teacher Jiang's office - he had asked her to come. When the driver pointed to the unfamiliar gate, I called Robyn and asked her to confirm that we were where we wanted to be. We were not. He'd taken us to a different gate, but for those familiar with the UW, it was like being dropped off at the IMA when you wanted to be at the Burke Museum. So Robyn asked him to take us to the "other" gate. He dropped us at the other gate and it didn't look any more familiar than the first, but we were embarrassed and paid the man and got out.

We found the store where it all started, and walked down the dark alleyway towards the abandoned-looking building. Lights shining from the 7th floor windows bolstered our nerves for a minute until we reached the entrance of the building. Pitch-black. We passed a dilapidated gate strung across the entrance of an adjacent building whose doors were ajar. The room within was one large space full of darkness and potentially creeping things. Eileen and I were immediately spooked. I pulled my cell phone out and we used it to light our way up the first flight of stairs. Then, we grew accustomed to the darkness and I called Julia. She was surprised to hear from me and asked us to stay put so that she could come with a "torch" and help us up the rest of the stairs. But, then, as I hung up, we heard a man humming to himself and starting up the stairs. Eileen and I were doubly spooked and raced up the other six flights to lightness and safety. The spooky man then passed us and turned out to be a harmless boy of maybe 16 with the most innocent face you've ever seen. We said "ni hao" and he scurried past us, apparently frightened of the white-as-ghosts "wai guo ren".

Julia followed shortly after, waving a flashlight and gasping for air. She’s raced up the stairs to save us with her “torch”. Once we were up on the 7th floor, any doubts as to what we were possibly doing melted away quickly. Julia discussed what we wanted to get out of our 10 lessons with us and Teacher Jiang sat across from us, smiling, braces shining, with a brown leather jacket this time and the same flowing mane of black hair. He grinned a lot and after we’d figured out the specifics with Julia, he nodded to Eileen and I and said in almost flawless English, “You are beautiful, no?” Julia waved him off and suggested that he write out a receipt for the 300 kuai we were each presenting him with.

After a small crowd gathered around the four of us, Teacher Jiang proceeded to write a lovely little receipt out to the both of us. Then Julia informed us that we would be watching a demonstration drawing by Teacher Jiang for today’s lesson. (We were supposed to bring examples of our work to class today, but neither of us did. Teacher Jiang wants to evaluate what level each of us is at before beginning our “programs”. Julia led us into a smallish studio that was set up with another still life of apples, a Pepsi bottle and a ceramic jug of some sort. The spotlight was already on and people were clustered around an easel waiting for Teacher Jiang. At first, Julia had both of us sitting on stools right behind Teacher Jiang. Neither of us could see a thing so Eileen got up and moved to stand in the back of the room. Julia made a small fuss, which mortified both Eileen and I, but we were able to quell her. I stayed put, though I could see nothing. After a while, Julia noticed that I was staring at the back of the brown leather jacket and pulled me up to stand beside her. Every once and a while, she’d say loudly, in English of course, something to explain what Teacher Jiang was doing. “He is now drawing in the dark faces (shadows)” or “Look at the objects and the drawing. He is drawing the rough outlines now” or “He is drawing detail now” – every time she spoke, everyone in the room turned to look at her and see what she might be saying to us.

At the first break, we took the opportunity to thank her immensely for all of her help but to kindly and gently hint that she didn’t have to stick around translating for us. That’s when we found out that she and Teacher Jiang had struck up some sort of deal where she had to come to everyone of our lessons to translate. It was dreadful. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. She’d been at the institute from early in the morning and now had to stand around talking about her teacher’s work to two foreign girls who just wanted to practice their drawing skills for a little while. Eileen and I wracked our brains for a way to help Julia out of her predicament. In the meantime, Teacher Jiang resumed the presentation.

Towards the point when I’d reached my threshold for standing behind a man watching him draw a still life with a Pepsi bottle in it, a tall Chinese boy in the class moved to stand conspicuously at my side. I could see him looking down at me with not-so-subtle sidelong glances from the corner of my eye. He appeared to be gawking from me to Eileen and then back to me. Then, he squatted down in front of me and nudged his buddy. He whispered something and then gestured up to Eileen and I. Next they both took out their cell phones and started typing furiously…working the pin yin to get the correct Chinese characters. Eileen let out a squeak of a nervous laugh and I started to lose it. We were both about to cackle openly in Teacher Jiang’s demonstration class but he called another break. I turned to Julia and told her our two hours was up and that we had to go home.

Julia told this to Teacher Jiang who looked slightly miffed and hurt that we’d leave when there were still three hours of drawing to watch, but after a few nods and whispers, Julia said, “Teacher Jiang agrees with you. Next time you draw.” And we made to leave. A bevy of students accosted us to say, “Hello! Goodbye!” and then we made for the door. At the entry to the 7th floor, we put all of our warm clothes back on and waited for Julia who was saying goodbye and probably setting up next week’s lesson. In the entryway, we struck up a conversation with another professor. This one reminded me of all of the mysterious activities that occurred on the third floor of the art building while I was in college: the drawing and painting departments were located on this floor. He was smoking a cigarette and shrouded in the darkness coming up from the floors below the 7th.  I asked him in my woeful accent, “Ni jiao shenme mingzi?” and he smiled a bemused smile, told us his name and gestured for us to follow him to a desk where he proceeded to write two Chinese characters. Then he was trying to explain the characters in a combination of broken English and fluent Chinese. We were able to deduce that the first character had something to do with loving one’s mother when Teacher Jiang, Julia and several students joined us at the table. They all started “ooo-ing” and “ahhh-ing” and then the other professor tried explaining the second character. The words “more than” and “best friend” had come out when Teacher Jiang piped in, “Hot! Hot hot hot!” and dashed from the room saying, “Goodbye and next time”. I told Julia I had no idea what was going on and she said that the professor was trying to explain the meaning of his name, which happens to be a very illustrious one in China.

Julia pulled out her torch, waved us to follow and we were skipping down the stairs after our first drawing lesson. We’ve vowed to practice a bit before this coming Thursday but I’ve not lifted a pencil other than to make corrections on tests and to draw some animals for my show lesson. I have a feeling Teacher Jiang is going to give me a dose of drawing reality come Thursday. I can’t wait!

Posted by liltayinchina at 11:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Because of the many complications that came with Yahoo 360's blog publisher, or whatever it is called, I've had to change my blog to this new location. The only problem is, I'm not sure whether it is possible to move the old entries to this new spot. Therefore, the old blog is still active, but I'll no longer be posting to it.

I apologize if leading, type, font, size or anything else is wonky. I've not even seen what the posts look like yet through this new publisher. Bear with me! You can find the old blog here: www.liltayinchina.com/journal.html

Cheers! 

Posted by liltayinchina at 12:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)