White Privilege: Not Just for Americans

Before coming to China, Jason and I were hoping to teach English in Korea.  Of course, now we know that it was simply not in the plans for us to avoid going to China, but I had a hard time grappling with the reasons for why we couldn't find a position teaching English.

"Hi, you are Korean American, right?" the girl at the teaching agency asked.

"Yes, I am.  But I was born in America and I've lived there my entire life."

"Yes, but it is very difficult to find a school that will take a teacher who does not look like an American."

To which my next question should have been, "Well, what the hell does an American look like?"  I suppose people everywhere are ignorant of the fact that different countries contain a diverse range of physicalities.  I'll admit that it still surprised me just a little bit (ok, maybe more) when I met a Chinese-South African, or when I realized that there is a huge Asian-Australian population-- a group of people who look a lot like me but speak with a way cooler accent.

Does it get frustrating when I walk into a class full of students fully expecting a "foreign-looking" teacher whose disappointment is clearly written all over their faces because I look Chinese?  Yes, and the whole explanation about not being from Korea, and having not much of a Korean national identity, is never easy to get out.

But what is more infuriating than having to explain myself a hundred times a week to taxi drivers, restaurant workers, office workers, sales clerks, and nearly every other person in China is that I could never get the job in Korea, or the job posted here on the blog, simply because I don't enjoy white privilege.  Not only that, but the job very well may go to some idiot whose Modus Operandi it is to sleep with as many unsuspecting Asian women and get as plastered as possible every night while still being able to show up to class the next morning, just to play a pirated DVD of Friends and sleep off his hangover at his desk.  But it doesn't matter.  Because he is white.

So what do I hope to gain from my little rant?  Really, nothing.  I'm as little of a fan of white guilt as I am of white privilege.  Am I saying all Chinese people are ignorant for thinking that I look Chinese?  No.  Because frankly, so would Dave Chapelle.

I suppose I'd like to say just this: WAKE UP.  It's no surprise that the world is a diverse place, and thankfully, the media is just starting to catch onto it.  Racism is still a problem today, but namely because of things like this advertisement and the people who perpetrate the problem are those who assume that one's ability is based on the color of their skin.  If the Chinese continue to believe that because "we all look the same," racism is not a problem in this society, they are sorely wrong and will continue to fall short of the social advances of their world power neighbors, who are just now learning to embrace their diversity as an asset.

'marshawu,' you should seriously start reconsidering the wording on your advertisement.  And I'm not your friend.

Direct Message

Sometimes, we get subtle, gentle reminders of bigger things that happen around us.  Things like hunches, feelings, or "movement in the spirit" that lead us down one path or another.

Other times, we get hit right over the head with something so direct and undeniable, it takes your breath away.

Case in point:

from our weekly church bulletin

Staring at me right in the face was a question that I had a hard time answering.  Am I still amazed, or do I still take His grace, mercy, and power for granted?  After living in a foreign country for a while, the challenges of getting through daily life become commonplace, and the work I do starts to become routine.  It becomes so easy to lose sight of the fact that the work I do, the life I live, the marriage I am a part of, the relationships I've been blessed by, the food I eat, the joy I feel, the sorrow I share-- are not simple coincidences.  In every facet of even the simplest life are opportunities to be amazed by how He loves.  As simple as the perfect cup of coffee (although, that's not so simple where I am) or a blue sky in the middle of a cloudy week.  Or as complex as a divine appointment or situations that unfold and seem to defy all scientific or logical explanation.  Yet, how easily we pass over the beautiful ways that we are reminded of His unending love and vastness in favor of mundane, circumstantial explanations!  

I could say that this was just a funny coincidence-- that my name happened to appear on our bulletin.   Printed with such urgency and accented by an exclamation point that just seems to express a cross between excitement, frustration, and perhaps final resorts at getting my attention.  Anxious to stir up the fire and wonder I once experienced when we were closer, the title simply asks if I've lost my sense of amazement.  

Sure, it's just the title of a sermon.  

But I'd rather not see it that way.  Instead, I am dumbstruck, overwhelmed, and amazed.

Channel surfing has its consequences

We interrupt our regular programming to bring you a fantastical Chinese creature who seems to have grown an enlarged scrotum on his forehead.

Brownie points to whomever can come up with the best captions for these photos.

A Humble Return

I've been absent for quite some time.  While I'm sure it was an absence not deeply felt, I can't attribute it to unbearable busy-ness, mundaneness of daily Beijing living, or even laziness.

This semester has been extremely long for multiple reasons- difficult students, boring curriculum, and adjustments to married life, being among them.  At the end of the semester, I had a bit of a meltdown when I realized how I'd let myself down in nearly all capacities.  I hadn't kept up my first home, or cooked enough, I didn't spend enough quality time with Chinese friends and students, I hadn't been the teacher my students deserved, I didn't exercise enough, and as we all know, I didn't keep up the blog.

I've started this blog entry about eight times.  Each time I did, the entry felt inadequate.  Who would actually be interested in reading about a new recipe I'd tried or the new oven we finally got, or my first disappointing trip I took to the ocean?  Who was interested in my photos when there are thousands of blogs out there brimming with DSLR gems and impressive angles?  And as I kept thinking about how overwhelmingly average I was, I found just another reason to delete my drafts.  And while this blog isn't truly an extension of my entire being, it seems that the inadequacy I felt about my blog stemmed from feeling inadequate myself.  Why would anyone be interested in anything I had to share when it would simply be disappointing?

Well, here we are, eight drafts later, and somehow I found something to write about.  Today, I was singing in the shower (Jason is away for two weeks, teaching at an English camp, so I indulged myself), and the song that kept coming back to me was one by David Crowder.

"He is jealous for me.  Loves like a hurricane, and I am a tree, bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy... He loves us, oh how he loves us."

I've heard and sung this song hundreds of times, but this time, I was struck by the amazing juxtaposition of those first two lines.  Overwhelmed by a love that is more powerful, wider, and weightier than anything I could possibly imagine, I am simply a sprout in the ground encased in the typhoon of his greatness.  His power transforms lives and maintains galaxies.  The creator of love, justice, mercy, and goodness.

And yet, he is jealous for me.  

He feels pain when I reject him.  He longs for my company when I am caught up in the little, meaningless things in life that too easily become so important.  In my underdeveloped sapling state, he fights for me, and finds me absolutely adequate.  More than simply adequate.  He finds me precious.

All this to say, life hasn't been especially interesting.  Yes, I do have a few things I'd like to share from the past few months that I haven't managed to post up on this blog.  But this necessary reminder forgoes any sort of China-anecdote or rant that my experience on this world could offer.  Because the experience of being pursued relentlessly by the Author of Love is certainly enough to get me to start writing again.

Because it's by His grace and love that I am adequate.

Whoo-Wee! (Jie)

May 1st was China's May Day Holiday, otherwise known as Wu Yi Jie (which sounds like "Whoo-Wee!" if you say it really quickly).  I'm not really sure of the origins of Wu Yi Jie, but I believe it's something akin to America's Labor Day.  It began as a one-week holiday, but I guess that was just too much fun for a country like China, so they shortened it to a measly 24-hours.  My students usually go shopping that day because there are a ton of good deals.  A ton of people brave the crowds and travel.

We were lucky this year because our buddy Lance came to visit us while he was in China on a month-long business trip in Shanghai.  Beijing is just a quick two-hour plane ride or so, and it was such a blessing to see a familiar face and share our lives in China with him.

When tourists attack...

Given that it was an official holiday, we fully expected there to be a ton of crowds at all the major tourist sites, so we decided to give Lance a more local walking tour of Beijing.  We walked through the hutongs and down Nanluoguxiang-- a really neat "bohemian" street with a ton of little shops, bars and restaurants, and snack stalls.  We walked through Houhai Lake and past the Drum and Bell Tower.  Basically, we walked a lot.

We took public transportation a LOT.

And we didn't just take pictures of the backs of each others' heads.

Of course, we ate a lot of really tasty grub.  Lance is a fellow yogurt enthusiast (Jason isn't so much into yogurt), and his wife, Amy, had told him about famous Beijing yogurt.  Plus, eating yogurt is one of the best ways to fight indigestion or traveler's diarrhea-- two things that are almost guaranteed to visit you while you visit China.  Suffice it to say that a good deal of yogurt was consumed in our three days together.

Iced fruit tea at Bellagio 

Mango Coconut Milk shaved ice at Bellagio

Lance and his first cup of Beijing yogurt

Beijing Yogurt comes in a tiny clay jug that you can keep for an extra 1 kuai.
Each cup is covered by a little piece of printed wax paper, secured by a rubber band.

Lance and me with some friends having hot pot for dinner.

Even though we wished his trip could have lasted longer, we were so glad to have our very first visitor to our home.  We miss you, Lance!  Hurry back, and bring Amy with you next time!

Lance in his favorite chair at our apartment

Oh, the times...

... they are a-changin'.  As evidenced by these two construction site signs.

Spotted in Zhuhai, Guangdong Province.  February 2009

Spotted near the Forbidden City in Beijing.  May 2011

I'm not going to try and assign some symbolic significance to this change, although I have to say it might be a sign that things are starting to be taken less seriously around these parts.  Or... things are starting to be cuter.  Or... construction workers are getting to be too young.

A Tale of Two Bagels

When living in China, you find that the littlest joys of life are what redeem all of your gloomy China days.  For me, the littlest joys often come in the form of food (not surprisingly)-- namely shopping for food.  Shopping for home comforts in Beijing is certainly easier than it is in other parts of good ol' Zhongguo (that's 'China' in Mandarin), but one cannot imagine the joy that comes with discovering that the things that seemed unattainable can be reached just by going around the corner.

Bagels:  Not available right around the corner, unfortunately.

Parchment paper, aluminum foil, soda water, decent non-sweet cheese, unsalted butter, and-- my personal favorite--cream cheese.  There's a local Chinese brand here that makes a great cream cheese, and say what you may about the safety of Chinese dairy, I'll risk it if it means I can sink my teeth into that creamy, buttery, sour tart goodness that is cream cheese.  (By the looks of it, if the food here hasn't severely harmed my health by now, then I'm probably good to go.  At least, until I grow a third eye or my urine becomes radioactive, or something.)

Contrary to what the brand may state, the cream cheese is not "suki."  Haha.

Finding cream cheese, of course, means that bagels must also be found.  Let me tell you something about Chinese bread.  Well, it sucks.  It's full of air, with absolutely no nutritional value.  So I set out to make my own bagels.  One recipe I used came from Budget Bytes, which is much faster and yields a decent crop of bagels.  The other recipe was a combination of one for Sourdough Bagels from one of my favorite cooking blogs, Chocolate and Zucchini, and another recipe from my other favorite cooking blog, Smitten Kitchen.  Both cite the same recipe from Peter Reinhart's book The Bread Baker's Apprentice, with their own personal tweaks.  The latter recipe requires a sponge to be made, then the dough to be proofed overnight, then the bagels are shaped, boiled, then baked.  If you don't know what that means, that's okay, most people don't.

Top: Sponge for Peter Reinhart's Bagels fermenting.  Bottom: Budget Bytes bagel dough

Budget Bytes bagels after second rise

The final word is that work and time definitely pay off.  While the Budget Bytes recipe delivered nice, speedy results, they weren't as chewy on the outside and soft on the inside, the way bagels ought to be, and how I remember them.  That said, the work and time are quite an investment.  Between proofing the dough, shaping the bagels, letting them rest, boiling them, then baking them, I found myself wondering why I would go through such great lengths for just a taste of home.

Sesame Bagels straight out of the oven

All I can think of is this: I don't know when I'll be going "home" to America.  And to be extremely honest, I don't know where home is.  I wouldn't go so far as to say that China is my home, but I would say that living with the expectation and to want move on as quickly as I can to the next thing--simply because I'm not comfortable--is no way to live at all.  And so, even if it takes 24 hours of proofing and a few minutes of boiling and baking, we do our best to make a home here with what we have.

And in the meantime, I've also learned new things to add to this whole idea of what "home" is.  Like putting peanut butter and tomato slices on a toasted bagel.  Yeah, it sounds crazy, but you'd be surprised at how incredibly tasty it is!