The Year of the Dragon

Happy New Year, everyone!

I suppose for folks living in China, it is obligatory that I post something about Chinese New Year's on our blog.  We're now almost at the official end of Spring Festival Week, which went by too quickly, as holidays often do.  It's still been an amazingly relaxing time, free from classes and full of slept-in mornings.

Considering that Spring Festival is the biggest holiday of the year (imagine Christmas, Thanksgiving, Boxing Day, and New Year's Eve all rolled into one), the majority of the city shuts down.  Major malls, public transit, and chain supermarkets stay open for business while the rest of the Beijing turns into a Chinese version of the set of a zombie apocalypse film... or just a reasonably populated city in a Western country.  For us laowai, it's a dream come true-- free reign of the streets without having to worry about colliding with someone every five minutes, and quiet for extended periods of time.  For our Chinese friends, it's strange.  Where are all the people?  And why is it so eerily quiet?

In our case, our celebration was eerily quiet-- even for laowai.  We made plans to hang out at our friend's 22nd floor apartment to watch the insane free-reign fireworks that go off to usher in the new year.  The photos don't do the event justice, but just imagine if every family in China made it their mission to hold their own personal Disneyland fireworks show at midnight-- and pulled it off.  That's basically what happened.

Here are a few photos:

 

Coming up... a laowai's perception of Chinese New Year traditions.

Lost in Translation

The Chinese education system is a puzzling thing.  I've blogged about my student, Xindy, before.  Xindy is a whiz at memorizing words and chanting slogans, but she still doesn’t know why it’s probably not a great idea to rub your eye after that same finger was digging for gold in your left nostril just before.  Call me old-fashioned, but I am of the school that believes that manners should retain a place in everyday society.

Being cross-cultural, though, often makes teaching and learning manners tricky.  Not only do you have to translate cultures, but you also have to translate languages.  Here's a sticky situation I found myself in with Xindy.

Xindy leans back and rips a loud, long fart.
Grace:  (laughing)  Xindy, did you just eat lunch?
Xindy:  (learning back on the sofa with her arms tucked behind her head)  No.  Why?
Grace:  Well, after you do that, you should say, “Excuse me.”
Xindy:  (brows furrowed, still lounging on my sofa)  I should say what?
Grace:  You should say, “Excuse me.”
Xindy:  (sitting up)  What?  What does that mean?
Grace:  It is kind of like saying, “I’m sorry.”
Xindy:  But why I need to say this word?
Grace:  Because what you did is a little impolite.
Xindy:  What’s meaning this word?  Poligh?
Grace:  Im-po-lite.  It means "不客气的" (bu keqi).

And here's where I went wrong.  Technically, what I said was "not" (bu) and "polite" (keqi), but together, the phrase "bu keqi" is another way of saying "You're welcome"-- a phrase most Chinese students learn.  Now, I'm worried that Xindy will get them all confused, and the next time she farts, she'll try to be polite and respond by saying, "You're welcome," which in my home, would warrant laughter and joy.  Among mixed company, though, perhaps not so much.*

Our lesson in manners didn't end there, though.

Fifteen minutes later, Xindy is working on a dictation.
Xindy:  What you said before I should say when I… 放屁 (fart / fangpi)?
Grace:  Oh… “Excuse me.”
Xindy:  (smiling as a rancid smell fills the room)  Okay.  Excuse me.



*For the record, if you want to convey that something is impolite without saying "You're welcome," the correct term is "不礼貌" (bu limao).

Who is your daddy...

... and what does he do?

That became a topic of conversation today while tutoring my little six year-old student, Xindy.  She has become one of my cutest buddies in Beijing.  Jason keeps encouraging me to give up tutoring her so I can have a little free time.  Sometimes, I do consider it, but then I'd miss out on conversations like these:

Rumble rumble.  Splish splash.  Whiiiiirrrrr.
Xindy: (startled) What is that noises?
Grace:  It's the washing machine.
Xindy:  Washing for what?
Grace:  洗衣服的 (translation: for washing clothes).  Jason is doing the laundry.
Xindy:  (more startled)  WHAAAAT?  He is washing the clothes!?
Grace:  Yeah... well, he's putting it into the machine.
Xindy:  He knows how to do it?
Grace:  ... Yes.  Doesn't your dad know how to use the washing machine?
Xindy:  No!
Grace:  (laughing)  Really?  So only your mommy does the laundry?
Xindy:  Eat, sleep, play iPad.  That's all my daddy knows.



Classic.

The Work of Someone Greater

When I happen upon difficult times in this place, when the winters are too cold, the summers are too sticky, and the food too oily.  After I've long forgotten that skies are meant to be various shades of blue, and not fluctuate between white, tan, and gray.  Long after the bags are packed, tickets bought, and miles traveled, I will know it was all worth it.

Because of this...

It's 9:36 AM

You're in your pajamas sitting at your desk.  Your laptop is open.  Your coffee cup is empty.  You've been awake since 7.

Do you know where your lesson plan is?

NO.  FOR THE LOVE OF PETE.  NO, I DON'T.

Fifteen Minutes or Less

START TIME:  1:29 PM

Yes, that is how long I've given myself to do a post.  We've all heard that old saying, "There are 24 useful hours in a day," and ain't it just about the most bittersweet thing you've ever heard?  The fact that there are indeed 24 whole hours for you to have your way with, and yet knowing that only a fraction of that time gets used in worthwhile ways?

In any case, here is my super-quick update.

Fall is in full swing in Beijing, and it is without a doubt the loveliest time of the year.  I love the fall.  With fall has come a ridiculous onslaught of work, work, work, and opportunities for service.  At my other job, it's bazaar season which means lots and lots of selling, scheduling, and hair-pulling.  Oh, and (hopefully not feigned) Christmas cheer.  At my 'real' job (that I am quite eager to leave), it's midterms and grasping at straws for good lesson plans.  Today, my students learned "Killing Me Softly" to the tune of a poorly played ukulele, compliments of yours truly.  Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel.

As my schedule fills up and the number of daylight hours quickly dwindles, I find myself craving those fifteen minutes, just for myself.  I-- like many other women-- am a great multi-tasker, but I often find that I try to squeeze in a few relaxing/fun moments while working.  I open up multiple tabs on my browser, so I can answer emails, read the headlines, and download a trailer from Apple Trailers all at the same time.  The result?  A few emails inevitably get left unanswered, I still don't fully understand what crazy debacle happened during the Occupy Oakland protests, and all I know of new releases is that it's just a bunch more of the same old crap, crap, crap that Hollywood loves to churn out.


And of course, the first thing to go directly to the backburner is my quiet time.  I think many Christians can understand this plight.  Life happens, and spending time with God gets lost somewhere in the mix of work, family obligation, and errands.  After a while, though, it becomes easy to forget just what I'm working, spending time with family, and running errands for.  Furthermore, quiet time is a two-way interaction, and it is so easy to forget that God has a feeling about being left on the backburner, too.  It hurts Him, and He misses us.  Isn't that nuts?

I know old habits die hard, but one thing I'm trying to be intentional about is doing one thing at a time, and giving my full focus on Him for some portion of the day-- be it on the subway or in my non-existent prayer closet-- so that I can give full focus to my entire being.

Just for kicks, also, here's a photo of a lesson plan that is a surefire success.  Your perfect 24-hour day.  You'll notice that the majority of my time is spend eating.  And see that giant slot left open for shopping?  It's not for clothes.  It's for food.

END TIME: 1:47 PM.  Dang!

Annuals

Anniversaries are funny things.  The majority of my students admit to having never celebrated a wedding anniversary as weddings tend to be tricky here in China.  Do they celebrate the day they signed their marriage contract, or the evening the couple hosted giant wedding reception/variety show in their honor?

Oddly enough, Jason and I had never celebrated an anniversary before.  We, like so many of our married Chinese counterparts, were a bit fuzzy on our details.  I mostly attribute this to a conversation that I love telling friends about.

On the afternoon of March 13, 2006...

G:  So I called my mom today to wish her a happy birthday.  She asked me about you.
J:  Mm-hmm...
G:  She asked about what's going on between you and me.
J:  Yeah?
G:  And I didn't know what to tell her.
J:  Well, I've been telling my friends you're my girlfriend for the past few weeks.
G:  ............

Yup, folks.  That's how a DTR happens.

Well, it's a good thing that wedding dates are a bit more definite.  And if this is where the bar is set for our very first anniversary celebration ever, then Jason has a lot to live up to for future anniversaries.

Here's how we celebrated our first year as a married couple:

We hopped onto our lovely e-scooter, Estelle, and made our way to the subway station.

En route to the restaurant...

...we saw dinosaurs in a shopping plaza!  Only in China...

We made it to our dinner spot and ordered up a Mediterranean feast that made us smile pitas.

We went for a stroll through brand new shopping malls with vacant store fronts.  Until I came to Beijing, I would never have expected to find a moment of peace away from crowds in a shopping mall.

We made our way to a Cantonese restaurant for a Chocolate Banana Ice Cream Parfait.  In the words of Donkey, "Everybody loves parfait!"  But Americans, take note.  Those are corn flakes on the bottom of the bowl.  This was one righteous parfait.

And here's the best part of our anniversary.  When we got married, Jason and I decided that we'd always give each other gifts made of the element that represents that anniversary.  Year one is represented by paper.  Jason commissioned a friend who is an art student to paint a watercolor of our first home as a married couple.

Everyone.  Welcome to our home.