Running into people – sometimes not recommended
It's so strange how things often happen in pairs. You feel bad about an interaction, and as you're mulling over what you could/should/would have done differently, another opportunity presents itself and HOPEFULLY, you make a different choice. I guess it isn't that strange. My father TOTALLY believes in synchronicity and such. I however, think the high population (and thus the many opportunities to run into people and make mistakes in those interactions) has more to do with it...that and the fact that I rarely learn a lesson once.
This evening, after Kindergarten, I chose to take a bus home instead of taking the car that is provided to us. I had some errands to run and didn't want to make it home and then head back out, feeling that the inertia often caused by my apartment mixed with my exhaustion wouldn't let me leave once getting in for the evening.
I walked somewhat quickly to the stop and was only there for a moment when the 609 drove up, much less crowded than usual. Because of the crush of humanity that is usually on the 609, I often wait for the 573. I got on the 609 and the driver started off before both of my feet were in the bus, the door slamming shut on my backpack. His urgency caught up with him mere minutes later when he boldly drove through a red light (not only driving through, but taking a left-hand turn) and was flagged down by a traffic cop on foot. The traffic cop was a rare dandy in his perfectly pressed uniform, little white hat, white gloves and gleaming patent leather shoes. The bus driver pulled to the curb, turned off the engine, grunted as he rose out of his well-worn seat, adjusted his belt and trousers and then, with a defiant spit preceding him, left the bus to confront the cop.
All of us on the bus were held in time. No one moved or made a sound of disapproval or annoyance. Everyone just sat there, lost in the 5 to 6pm reverie. A few people collected around the bus on the street and sidewalk to watch the confrontation between dandy cop and crotchety driver. The cop issued a ticket and the driver gave up his hysterics for surliness and then, resignation. He pocketed his citation and returned to his slumped-in seat, started the engine, and for good measure, flew forward with a jerk that sent all of us standing passengers lurching forward.
My attitude at this point in the day and based on earlier experiences was one tinged with pique. I had felt like a circus animal at the post office when two girls in their early twenties had decided to stand gaping while I carried out a transaction to purchase a box large enough to fit the already boxed and addressed gift I was sending to my mother. Every few minutes, one of them would stare at me and then confer with her friend about goodness knows what. They stood dumbfounded all the way up to the point where I was putting my change in my wallet and collecting my belongings to move to the next counter to mail the box in a box.
And, Kindergarten had been especially ridiculous today. The co-teacher left for chunks of time and when I tried to get the students to repeat the words that I was saying that they didn’t know the meaning of, a litany of “ting bu dongs” would issue forth from their toothless mouths. It was like hearing a Philip Glass symphony put to Chinese words. Yes, just as “pleasant” as that sounds.
So I wasn’t in the right mood. It’s very important what kind of mood you’re in when you live in a foreign country and don’t speak the language so well. If you run into an acquaintance, your mood can make or break the encounter. Today, I broke an encounter.
We had just come to the hustle-bustle area of the Wuchang train station, mainly bustling and hustling because of a huge revamping project that’s under construction. I was standing at the back door of the bus and was lost in the double protection of my MP3 player and my sunglasses. I was staring straight at the person approaching me from the front of the bus and yet I didn’t see him until he was a few inches from my face and talking to me. He wore a denim fishing hat (has a shortish flouncy brim surrounding the perimeter of the hat), a denim vest, and denim jeans. He carried a large leather man-purse. His face was round and jovial, with a thick black beard reminding me of how rare a beard of that volume is in China. He was an acquaintance. The first time I met this man, I was smooshed into the crush of humanity I’ve mentioned before in connection to the 609. He was trying to find a space for himself and we made eye contact. I laughed out loud at the ridiculous wedged shape I had become and later, when the crowd thinned a bit, he struck up a mainly one-sided conversation with me. He handed me a business card and used to hang out in front of the school at lunchtime – occasionally we met there. I never went anywhere with him, though he asked me to have dinner or lunch to talk about art (I’d told him about my painting class). I hadn’t seen him in over two months. I’d never spoken with him for more than ten minutes or so and had never sought him out. So when he started talking to me on the bus this evening, in the state I was in, I was abrupt. I didn’t try to understand his questions and didn’t even remove the earphone when he asked me simpler and simpler questions. Finally, looking dejected, he shrugged and pointed out a seat in the back of the bus, offering it to me. I went back to the seat and sat down. He didn’t look back towards me once during the rest of the ride. At his stop, he looked back and gave me a very sad smile. I felt really bad, as if I’d hurt his feelings terribly. Although I was in no mood to try to be sociable, there are cues you can give in your own language to inform a person of your lack of energy or whatever. But, I had been short with him and cold so that he wouldn’t try to talk to me because I had no other way of showing him that I wasn’t in the mood to chat. It felt terrible and very unlike me.
But I was given a second chance, and the very same day, no less! There’s a young woman whose English name is Selena and she works at the Kindergarten connected to this school where we live. I met her very early on. She was having dinner one evening in September with her friends at the local hole-in-the-wall that just isn’t the same since “mama and papa” moved out during the Chinese New Year holiday. Selena immediately caught my eye because she’s very tall, very energetic and funny. She is just 19 this year and loves to sing Britney Spears’ songs – especially “Not a girl, not yet a woman”. Selena likes to smack me across the face as if she were kissing in the French style whenever she sees me or says goodbye to me. She doesn’t kiss, though. She bangs her cheekbone into mine and always leaves a bruise, I kid you not.
Tonight I got a double smack because I haven’t seen Selena since before the February holiday. She was leaving the Kindergarten as I was coming back from the grocery store tonight. She smacked me in the face with her cheeks and then asked me to come see her “gong zuo difang” – literally “work place”. What’s great about Selena and I, is that we know about the same amount of each other’s language. So sentences going back and forth have equal parts Chinglish and Englese. I walked with her to the Kindergarten, which had the word “Montessori” written underneath the Chinese characters for the name of the school. Though I’ve heard of Montessori schools all my life, it wasn’t until tonight that I learned that the word is the last name of the creator of the philosophy – Maria Montessori (of Italy) – that young children should be schooled through developing natural interests and activities rather than using formal teaching methods.
Selena took me to her classroom and played a few fancy piano tunes for me, danced around the room and played a traditional Chinese flute. I could tell that the school’s curriculum suited her very well. She loves to perform and her ways are childlike and I imagine, very invigorating for her young charges.
It only started to get awkward when Selena dug out an old digital camera and started forcing me to pose for pictures. “Stand in front of this – what is it in English? Yes, frog. Stand by the frog. Can you say ‘girrup, girrup?’ That’s what a frog says. Sat what a frog says.” – Snap and the shutter caught me making Chinese frog sounds.
“Can you play the piano? Sit at the piano. Put your hands on the piano. Look at me. Look at the camera but try to play the piano. Don’t play, just smile. Be cute.” Snap, snap.
Then there were the pictures she took of us, where she made me stand in front of her because her “face is fat” and I have a small head (according to her) so I would balance the picture out by being in the foreground. Snap, snap.
I noticed that in all of the photos, I look uncomfortable, tired and foggy. Selena asked me if I was going to “play” tonight. I told her no, that I was too tired to play. She told me that she was not tired and that she loved life. Could there really be so much difference between 19 and almost-27 years?
After a few more shots around the classroom, she put the camera away and started serenading me with Britney medleys of her own concoction. I told her that one day soon, we will go to KTV and sing Britney songs. I doubt that this will ever happen, but just the fact that I went along with her to see her Gong zuo difang made her supremely happy and what took so little effort on my part seems to have been all that she wanted this evening.
And so I think…Redemption! (Though I still feel badly about denim-hat man. Of course, I plan on avoiding the 609 for the duration of my stay…that’s how tired I seem to be these days…)
