Category Archives: Uncategorized

Temple of Heaven

After yesterday’s perambulation about the Temple of Heaven and the      surrounding park, much of me wanted to sleep this morning.  However,    while staying at the inn, which was my residence the first few days I was    here, I was shown a Catholic Church at the west end of the alley (“hutong”)  where the inn is located.  So, in spite of being tired, I set my alarm for 5:30, and was out the door and joining the early morning multitude of humanity at 6:00 to walk to the 7am mass.  I arrived at about 6:55.

On the way, I noticed that there were students from Beijing No. 2 Middle School heading to the school.  These were not students from the International Division, but from main school.  I believe they were going to rehearsal for the opening-day ceremony.  (I am noticing that for a Confucian society, ceremony and protocol is a large part of life.)

When I entered the church, a Gothic revival church most recently rebuilt in 1905, but which dates back to the 1600s, the 6am mass was ending; there was not an empty seat.  Worshipers were shoulder to shoulder, without a trace of the “Thou wilt not sit too close to thy neighbor,” all too typical  in American Catholic churches.

As the 6am mass ended, the people left the church reverently, making the sign of the cross and genuflecting from the waist or bending the knee.

No sooner had the 6am mass ended than the 7am began.  There was a hymn, the readings, the responsorial psalm, the homily — nearly a half hour — prayers and then the Eucharist.  I could recognize “Amen” and “Alleluia, as the mass was in Mandarin.  With the sign of peace, all simply pressed the palms of their hands together, turned to those around them and bowed.  I could not quite make out the phrase for “Peace be with you.”  And, again, there was ne’er an empty seat.  Also, and I found this particularly noteworthy, confessions were ongoing throughout the service, until the time of the Eucharist, when the two priests hearing confessions then had to attend to matters at the altar.

A demographic feature I noticed, and perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised about this, while there was a smattering of young faces in the pews, the vast majority were older or elderly.  Undoubtedly, these persons have seen and been through a lot of history, turbulence, upheaval and violence, here in the Middle Kingdom.

As the mass ended, I had to smile as the closing hymn (or at least the tune), sung in Chinese, was “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”  Also, as I left, the church was filling up for the 8am mass.  I found out after I got home and read a history of the church, there is an English mass at 4pm.

After the mass, there was a book stand set up outside the entrance to the church.  There, with the help of a kind lady, I was able to purchase a New Testament (New Jerusalem Bible) in Chinese and English, a facing-page translation.  Now I can begin to do some language work and character study.

AMGD

For whatever reason, today, 19 August, I am able to access my blog, and for this I am grateful.  Given that I have this opportunity, let me revisit some of this past week, as it has been only 9 days since I arrived.

As I think I may have mentioned to some of you, my first night began with some highly unintended drama.  Besides my flight being about 4 hours late into Beijing, or as a result of this, I was exceptionally tired and bit distracted when I landed.

I got off the plane well enough, and navigated customs without event.  The first rabbit hole appeared at a currency exchange both in the airport, and then the drive into the city.  In a nutshell, after doing a currency exchange in association with another Chinese woman, now working in Alabama, I thought I had put my passport (required for anything like this) back into its appointed place.  Of course, I should explain that by “rabbit hole,” a term introduced to me for China purposes by a former middle-school student of mine from Virginia, and who herself is a budding Sinologist, refers to anything and everything bordering on the entirely unexpected, the existentially vertiginous, the whimsically inefficient,  eyebrow raising wonderment, or the plain surreal, when the universe as you know it vanishes and is replaced by something vaguely familiar, but altogether different in its operation.  I suppose the following qualifies as the existentially vertiginous:  “What??  How??”

Soon thereafter I was met by one of our Chinese hosts, who have been wonderfully helpful and accommodating; he drove me into Beijing.  The drive into Beijing from the airport was a bit circuitous.  Since the Olympics, the roadways around the city have changed.  What I marveled at was that on what we would call expressways or freeways, there were bicycles, scooters, pedestrians, and I found myself a bit nervous when this colleague stopped more or less in mid exit of an expressway to ask directions of a pedestrian attempting to walk across the expressway.  The stopping and asking for directions happened more than once.  Very subtly I reached to the dashboard and put on the emergency flashers, as cars whizzed by us at speed.

We finally got into the city, where an amazing banquet was awaiting those arriving that evening, me and two other teachers, one from San Francisco, the other from Torronto (who grew up in China).  At the end of this meal, which included the famous Beijing duck, I was asked for my passport in order to register at the hotel.  I reached for it in its appropriate pouch.  Not there.  I checked pockets.  Not there.  I checked my jacket pockets.  Not there.  Needless to day, embarrassment and panic quickly took hold.  It then dawned on me what had happened.  At the exchange booth my passport did not make it into its resting place, but rather landed on the floor of the airport, and I was too tired and distracted to notice.  Thankfully — thankfully — on the receipt for the exchange was the phone number for this particular booth.  One of my Chinese hosts made a call.  Sure enough, the passport had been found, turned in, and was now at the airport’s lost and found.  For this I was exceptionally grateful and relieved, but also deeply embarrassed by this gaffe.  In any case, after dinner, late at night, a carload of us trundled back to the airport, where, after signing a few papers, I got the document back.

So far I have needed the passport for: the visa, boarding the plane in Chicago (where the visa was again checked), currency exchange, hotel registration, getting a phone, applying for work visa and permit, registering with the police, signing a lease agreement (all in Chinese: what did I sign?), cashing traveler’s checks and opening a bank account (yesterday).  Here in China the passport is like a logistical credit card: you simply cannot leave home without it.  I don’t think I needed it to mail a letter, which I recently did at the Regent Hotel — which is not where I am staying.  However, I did have to open the card, which allowed the hotel concierge inspect it, and then put it in a hotel envelope.  And, because the card did not fit into the new envelope, I had to ask for some scissors to trim it.The first photograph below is a certain motor car dealership to the left of the hotel’s entrance.  To the right of the entrance are found dealerships for Ferrari and Maserati, far cries from the Cultural Revolution, I would imagine.

The times, they are a changin'.

In a separate post, I will write more about the school and the students.  For now, though, I want to point out that the school was founded in 1724 as a school for the royal family under the Qing (“ching”) Dynasty, and it has occupied the same location since.  The photo below is that of the last surviving original building.  I believe Yale has a similar building, located at the south end of the Old Campus quadrangle. All schools, I found out yesterday, were closed for about a decade during the Cultural Revolution, but this one has survived the numerous political and cultural seismic shifts that have catapulted China into the forefront now at the beginning of the 21st century.  Indeed, many of China’s future leaders, whether political, academic, social or financial, will come not only from this school, but, more specifically, from the program I am helping to establish.  A symbol might be helpful.  The principal of this school, Principal Niu, is a very gracious gentleman, but one who must have a firm stock of guanxi.  He was selected to be one of the individuals to bring the Olympic torch into the Olympic stadium.  In my mind, this says as much about China’s regard for education, as for the prestige of the school and its principal.

   

1724 Building

Big Foot

On my way.

I am sitting in Chicago O’Hare airport, an airport that I guess was at some point in the past considered modern.  At this point it seems a bit tired and worn.  Undoubtedly, it is not an airport for the 21^st century – if finding outlets for a computer is any indication.  In Terminal 1, the outlets are few and very far between.  Moreover, there is no free wireless.  I found out from a gentleman at the local Brookstone stand that the airport used to have free wireless connectivity.  However, the Daley administration (I guess that of Richard II) did away with it.  Because I had been thinking half-jokingly that the lack of modern amenities might have something withChicago being “Chicago,” I was prepared to ask the gentleman about some political cause for this state of affairs, but thought why bother.  Why bother, indeed!  I was right.

Yesterday, 8 August, was insane, in part because the day before, Sunday, was sane.  I made a final trip out toFredericksburgand visited with friends and took in the blessings ofSouthChurch.  (It was good to see you, Tony!  And thank you for allowing me a few words, Paige!)  Of course, as a practical matter, the hours I spent in Fred, which could have been given over to packing, made yesterday that monster that it was.

I woke up and had a quiet time of reading: a blessing, but the clock was ticking.  I packed the kitchen.  Oh, nuts.  Let’s just say the Packing Elves had a field day, with me being the field.  I can still feel their cleat marks.  Then, my bank card decided to go “pfft,” which made getting traveler’s checks a bit of a minor detour.  And then it was a sprint to get some last-minute stuff to storage, two runs to the Salvation Army, a run to Jennifer’s house to drop my travel items plus some stuff for Nate and the house, and then the rental car returned.  Kudos to me for renting a car for these past few days, as having it was truly necessary.

Somehow, it all happened.  After dropping off the car, I walked back to 11411 and did some final cleaning, and had a few quiet moments with Big Foot.  I will miss that extremely companionable cat a lot.  He was a delight at every turn.  God and St. Francis, watch over him, and his side-kick Squirt McGuirt.

Jennifer came by and we drove back to her house together.  I was emotionally spent, and was in quiet tears in the car. (They are upon me now.)  At her house I kind of puttered, and kind of did not, and drank a lot of water.  I am even now barely hydrated.  I wanted to breathe. Even with the broken ribs, I was able to get things done, but not without cost.

At last I took a shower and kind of got myself together.  Jennifer ordered pizza, which was good.  She and I then did a final run to 11411, where I had a last good-bye to Big Foot and Squirt, and I dropped off the key.  Later that evening, when it was quiet, when Grace and Nate headed upstairs, she and I had some time to talk and pray, and I read her a chapter out of “Goforth in China,” the chapter about Rosalind Goforth, who is also the author of this account.  To sleep.  A sound and intense, if brief sleep.

She drove me to the airport at about6am.  I negotiated security without event.  The flight here was easy.  And now I sit and wait, as the flight toBeijingis delayed about 3 hours.  Thank you, my Dearest Friend for all you have done, and continue to do.

I am still exhausted, and I look forward to being able at last to rest on this long flight.

P.S.  After about an hour on the phone with Boingo tech reps, I can now access the internet at the airport, so I can post this.

Why is it that, come moving day, time continues to move along, but events happen slowly?  What I mean by this cryptic statement is that today felt rushed by certain things happening slowly, such as filling out the paperwork for the storage unit.  On a Saturday, which by all accounts is when people want to move into or out of storage facilities, there was only one gentleman working the desk, until he wasn’t, until he had to enter the maze of the facility in order to help out with matters interior.

However, it happened, and I can not thank Jennifer and Torrance for their help and moral support during this very hot day.  “Thank you!”

Now, there is some clean-up work to be done: bathroom, kitchen and some remaining papers, but it will fit.  It must.

Finally, I would not recommend breaking a rib before doing this sort of thing.  Granted, it makes you aware that you are alive, but not in the most pleasant sense.

Yesterday, in a rushed and distracted frame of mind, I had a very stupid fall, not while on my bicycle, but while getting on it. I am not sure what happened exactly, but a loss of balance combined with gravity to send me crashing onto the left-side handle bar, cracking a rib or two.  Needless to say, while the pain was more than adequate, what disturbed me most was the fact that had I been thinking in a more focused and less harried manner, this would not have happened.  And people tout the virtue of multi-tasking.  Pah.  If there is an upside to this, it is the fact that my bike’s handlebars are the drop variety, so the surface I engaged so unexpectedly with my ribs was relatively flat.  Had I been on my mountain bike, I would have been impaled.  Come to think of it, though, I don’t think I’ve ever had this sort of moment on my mountain bike.

My Dearest Friend Jennifer and her son, Nate, came over later in the evening, which was wonderful moral support.  And Nate brought with him some of his famous, Nate The Great scones!  I hope he stays with cooking.  He’s good and creative.  And he’s all of 11 years old.

In any case, breaking a few ribs is not an ideal way to go into the final five days before a major move.  I could function today, very deliberately, you might say, but getting out of bed was an exercise in physiology, biomechanics and geometry.  Tonight I am feeling a bit better.  Tomorrow my earthly detritus goes into storage.

Thanks for your time on the phone today, Cousin Tobey!

None of these belongs to me, though the grayish cat, which I have named Big Foot or Sasquatch, for obvious reasons, has been a particularly companionable visitor.  What can I say of our little Kermit?  This photo was taken last night.  In this “stupid hot” Texas heat, all creatures seek water.  This tin I put out weeks ago for birds, but it’s become more a watering hole for cats and, well, frogs.

I received this NPR article today.  While it is oriented toward science in China, it also highlights the general educational problems and opportunities I/we will face there, largely due to cultural dynamics.

http://www.npr.org/2011/08/03/138937778/plagiarism-plague-hinders-chinas-scientific-ambition?sc=17&f=1001

Part of our faculty’s mandate, “as I understand it,” will be to gently yet firmly steer students toward a different way of thinking, one that will harness the shear intellectual horsepower already present in the students, but also to help them understand that saying things to a teacher, and each other, such as “I disagree with you,” “I don’t understand,” “Can you repeat that?” “I believe there’s another way of thinking abut this,” “This is what I think,” “I believe you are mistaken,” and so forth, is, or at least can and should be,  part of the academic enterprise.  Of course, I know that this will be an enormous challenge, but one that will be rewarding and, I hope and trust, fruitful.

I’m jazzed.

Those of you who have moved, maybe once, maybe several or even numerous times, are perhaps familiar with the Packing Elves.  While not malicious creatures, they do have something of a perverse sense of humor.  I believe they are closely related to the Car Key Elves, those more mean spirited harpies who ensure that your keys are nowhere to be found, especially when you need them Right Now.  The dislocation of the keys, of course, will be in inverse proportion to your insistence that “They were right here moments ago.”  Sock Elves are Car Key Elves in training.

Slightly more distant cousins are They Who Inhabit Technology.  How important is this document?  Very?  Sorry, your computer just “crashed.”  And you need how many copies by when?  Oops.  Paper jam, and in the most inaccessible recess of the machine.  Needs toner?  They ensure that none is present, but that it is on order. Conniving creatures all.  They can determine the blood pressure and Frantic Factor of a person at fifty paces.

Packing Elves are, first off, invisible.

Second, they appear, or at least make their present felt, in ever greater numbers the closer you get to what you think is the end point of packing.  In this way, they are kind of like false summits on a long hike.  You think you’re there, and then, lo!   And then, yet again, lo!  and lo!  Finally, you do make it!  However, your feeling exhilaration, while no doubt real and well deserved, is somewhat colored by a sneaking suspicion that there was a hidden trail, as it were, to the top, a trail known only to a select few.  Gnostic knowledge, you you might say.

This is how you know these sprites and pixies are present.  Basically, something you pack reappears, along with something else.  Or, another way, what was a clear space on a floor suddenly, when you’re not looking, becomes strewn with stuff.  In the vast majority of cases, what reappears is not furniture or any large items.  These folk truly specialize in “stuff.”  In my experience they are particularly fond of manipulating and multiplying office supplies, papers and files, photographs (!), and, occasionally, books.  Though “been-there” t-shirts are not immune from their spell. Finally, they are masterful at ensuring that you abound in odd-shaped, hard to wrap and pack objects.  Things that were once no doubt, at least in your memory, wonderfully symmetrical, suddenly appear oddly misshapen, with all sorts of jutting sides and corners.

While invisible, these elves are not immaterial.  As they scutter, scurry and pad about (I can’t believe the Google dictionary doesn’t have “scutter”), you might see and hear a slight rustling of papers, or something mysteriously tips over. A particularly creative reappearance of previously packed (or so you thought) objects may be accompanied by a barely audible chuckle.

Professional movers seem to overwhelm these creatures.  Then again, these two parties could reach some sort of financial arrangement agreed upon in advance.   In any case, the Packing Elves seem most intent on playing, indeed having a delightful time, among those packing, moving, and/or storing worldly belongings on their own.

I am about 80 percent done with my packing.  The trail to the summit is soon to become quite steep and unpredictable.

I would love to hear your stories about your encounters with the Packing Elves & Co.

One cannot move to China without doing a lot of sorting, selling and storing, as well as the packing.  Over the past two weeks or so, I brought enough book to Half Price Books to earn about $120.00.  This is a bit more than a dollar per pound, I would think.  I think I’m okay with luggage.  Today and tonight I sorted, organized and packed about 14 book boxes.  This is near to 560 pounds.  I may be storing by the pound, so knowing the weight of all I own is necessary.  I hope the bathroom scale is fairly accurate!  Certainly this is well more than half of weight of the moth-eaten belongings I own.  I would like to depart with even more.  Perhaps this will occur over the next few days.  I think I can.  I think I can.  Tomorrow, pictures, photo albums and assorted shelf/display items.

Oh.  I heard on the radio today that July in Austin area was the hottest on record: an average daytime high of 102 F.  Yesterday’s (1 August) high was 107!

As I think about how all this started, I once again think of the delectatio et profundum Dei, the delight or pleasure as well as the depth and profundity of God.  Put another way, I am not at all sure how this has happened, but as I think about it, I do so reverently, and yet with a smile and an occasional chuckle and shake of the head.

While I write this I am listening to one of my new favorite bands, L’Angelus, who is now wandering about Europe on its way to Madrid.

This past year has been one largely of looking for full-time work.  I am grateful for having done some college-placement work back in the fall, and for the part-time work I have recently had working for Ward North American here in Austin.  But, in between, the work landscape has been a bit parched.

One of the tasks I had, then, was to find full-time work.  Because of this, one day I contacted a private school in Utah, Wasatch Academy, who had listed on the NAIS website a position for teaching English in China.  Earlier this year I had been offered such position, but this was one of those many teach-English-in-China positions which are, perhaps, too many.  So, I approached this NAIS posting with at least one raised eyebrow.  At this point I wasn’t set upon uprooting myself and moving halfway around the world to do I am not sure what.  Even so, I decided, somewhat whimsically, at least to investigate this.

The person I contacted there received my CV and said he would forward it on to Party A.  This party, unbeknownst to me, then forwarded it on to Party B, the management committee of Beijing No. 2 Middle School.

Soon thereafter (this was back in June), while riding my bike in the Texas heat, I received a phone call from a gentleman on the management committee.  I have had more than one interesting phone call while on bike rides.  A few days later I was having a Skype interview with three gentleman in Beijing, which I thought went well.  Then came the long silence.  In spite of repeated requests for updates on the Management Committee’s thinking — perhaps my first misuse of guanxi — I heard nothing.  Then, out of the blue, on 10 July I received a congratulatory email saying that I had been selected for this program!  Sign the contract, get your visa, buy a ticket and be here in Beijing in a month’s time.

And so it came to pass.  And so it has come to pass thus far.  And I am to be on a plane on 9 August.