East Meets West

"Oh, East is East and West is West and never the twain shall meet . . . "

I love Kipling (and that poem).  He's right; East and West seldom really do meet -- it's more like they collide . . . and the results are often rollicking fun.*

I have had some wonderfully bizarre "East meets West" moments since coming to China.  Sometimes I find myself nearly shaking with laughter when these two completely divergent cultures wind up in the blender of life together.

There is, of course, Chinglish (really unintentionally hilarious translations of things from Chinese to English).  For instance, while out and about in Weihai with Maggie and Linda, I found a poster advertising a local area to tourists.  What the advertisement meant to say (as Maggie and Linda explained to me) is that the area is a nice place full of friendly people.  What it actually said, in English, was "Amorous Feelings Town."  As I pointed out to Maggie, "Well, that translation will certainly bring in some tourists!"  (She smacked me for that -- East smacks West.)

At the hotel in Penglai, there was that delightful translation of chicken hearts, "Hear Left."  ?!?!  An entire team of Chinese friends were unable to work out how that particular translation happened.

And a special favorite of mine is Chinese caution signs.  The word "caution" (or "careful") in Chinese literally translates as "small heart" -- which I find just utterly delightful.  It makes sense if you really think about the meaning of the word, but when you see it written out in English, it's something that always brings a smile.  And then sometimes I end up tripping or bumping into something, because the caution sign distracted me.

Of course, I don't want to sound like I'm unfairly focusing on the Chinese side of things -- there are plenty of examples of we Americans messing things up in translation!  I mix up words so often that I could probably write a book just on that experience alone.  For instance, in my very first experience directing a taxi driver in Chinese, I meant to tell him that we had arrived at my destination ("daole"), but instead I messed up and said "Goule!"  So instead of saying "Arrived!" I said "Enough!"  The driver, a very patient and kind man, was amused.


*I am not saying that East and West NEVER meet -- after all, three of my closest and dearest friends (adopted sisters, really) here are Chinese.  What I am saying is that even when they do meet, there is still so much difference that they cannot fully fuse.  Even though I am very close to my Chinese friends, we still often have to translate/explain social mores, customs, etiquette, jokes, and even compliments.  I love them dearly (and they love me back), but we will always have these deep cultural differences that keep our interactions educational and amusing.  

Finally, Something that Translates into Every Language!

In the midst of all of the fun/difficulty/jubilation/headache (it really is a mixed bag) of learning Chinese, I finally found one sure-fire thing that translates well with minimal confusion.

Are you ready for it?

It's a cough.  Or, in my case, a massive, dramatic, whole-body-wracking, enough-to-knock-me-over-if-I-weighed-twenty-pounds-less attack of coughing.  As one might infer, I am sick at the moment.  As in, sick enough that I even took a sick day today (and have, naturally, spent the entire day babysitting my email just in case the substitute needs any help with my classes -- which she won't, because she is capable and brilliant, but I am such a teach-a-holic that I have to worry anyway).

I started getting sick earlier in the week, with the usual completely disgusting alien-goop pouring from my sinuses, a sore throat, and a chronic headache.  By Tuesday, the cough had arrived.  Tuesday night, the fevers and chills showed up, and I shivered and hacked my way through a very unpleasant night (but, on the bright side, got all of the freshmen projects graded since I couldn't sleep).

Wednesday was just plain miserable.  I had a three-hour department meeting and two classes receiving tests, and I coughed my way pathetically through all three (I ran and got some very odd-tasting but reasonably effective Chinese cough drops from our very kind school doctor so that I did not distract my sophomores too much during their test).  In the morning, I was cranky from being sick and stressed and lacking sleep, and I inadvertently put my foot in my mouth complaining about something being done wrong, only to run into the person who had done it . . . who graciously accepted my profuse series of apologies and even made a few of her own (have I ever mentioned how dearly I love the Chinese people in my life and just how kind, lovely, friendly, hard-working, etc. they are? -- now you know how horrible I felt when I accidentally said something negative about one of them).

By noon, I knew I should go home . . . but I had planned an afterschool help class for my freshman, who are taking their test as I write this very post, and I could not bear to cancel it and leave them hanging (some of them were really nervous about their test).  So, I battled my way through the day, though I did inform one of our Chinese co-teachers (i.e. designated substitute teachers and generally awesome people who do pretty much everything, while being unbelievably sweet) that I would need her to teach my classes the next day.  A sick day was no longer an option for me -- it was something I had to do.  I hate taking sick days . . . . I really, really hate it.  But, since I couldn't go more than five minutes without coughing, there was no way around it.

I foolishly forgot to bring Nyquil when I moved here from the US, and oh, have I suffered for that mistake!  What I wouldn't give for some of that wonderful, merciful, drowsiness-inducing potion that got me through so many past rounds of "plague".  With no other recourse, I decided to be brave and go to a Chinese drugstore after school in the hopes of finding something for, at the very least, the sore throat and cough.

When I entered the store, it occurred to me that I do not yet know any Chinese words related to illness, other than the words for diarrhea and vomiting, which were two of the first words I learned (you may draw your own conclusions from this revelation).  I do know "tong" (pain) from when I went for massage and "bu hao" (not good), which is quite utilitarian, but that is a pretty small arsenal to have, particularly in a city full of thousands of helpful, friendly people who want to help the poor foreigner by offering loads of well-meant assistance . . . all in words that the foreigner has not yet learned from her beloved Chinese teacher.  I boldly went forward anyway, confident in my ever-increasing charades skills.

I really need not have worried.  The smiling pharmacist asked me (I assume, since it was Chinese words that I don't know yet) what was wrong with me (or what I needed, or more than likely something to that effect -- although she could have been asking if I like to watch water polo, for all I know).  I pointed to my throat and said "Zhe shi bu hao" (This is not good) and then, before I could employ any charades skills at all, I erupted into a timely fit of lung-flinging coughs.  The pharmacist nodded sagely, said something sympathetic that I understood the spirit of if not the meaning, and then went behind the counter and got something for me.  I paid an insanely cheap price for it, went to the store for "sick foods" and then came home and opened the box to discover . . . . very nasty looking cough syrup (they all are, I know, but this one has the added bonus of being brown and a little frothy on top).

Since the dosage instructions were, of course, all in Chinese characters that I haven't learned yet (well, except for "ren" which means person and really doesn't help), I shrugged my shoulders, gritted my teeth, plugged my nose, and slurped down 20 milliliters of the stuff (it had a little measuring cup with it, just like in the States).  The flavor tasted strongly of ginseng and ginger, intermingled with . . . swamp water, perhaps?  I, fortunately, had had the foresight to have a chaser (Sprite) right at my elbow.  The stuff was pretty effective for a few hours, although it made my brain a little fuzzy (or maybe the fever did that -- who can really say?).

Today, my sick day, my nasty medicine and I have spent the morning curled up on the couch together.  My illness, whatever it is, apparently beat up my voice and stole its lunch money, but one really doesn't need a voice to sit on a couch huddled miserably under a blanket.  At around 10:00 our ayi arrived, so there has been the "Yay Duck" of actually getting to see and talk to her (in my limited Chinese, since the only English she knows is limited to "hi" and "sorry").  Our ayi is very sweet and concerned -- she checked me for fever and offered to do something that I didn't understand (so I politely turned her down).  She periodically checks on me in between cleaning, and says sympathetic things in her lovely language that I really want to someday be fluent in.  Although a cough does translate into Chinese flawlessly, I really can't wait until I know enough verbs and nouns to be able to carry on a meaningful conversation!

An Enchanting Weekend: Penglai and Weifang, Part I

A group of about thirty of us took a trip this weekend to two gorgeous areas of China, Penglai and Weifang (they are about four hours away from where I live).  It was a trip full of history, magical moments, odd gustatory experiences (in other words, I ate something that should NEVER be eaten), beautiful Chinese songs, and of course, plenty of "squattie potties"!

I started out on the foreigner bus, which picked us up at 7:30 am on Saturday.  At a brief stop, however, we were told that anyone who wanted to could feel free to switch to the other bus (which the Chinese staff were on).  I immediately told my friend Kathryn that we should switch, and she agreed.  It's not that I don't enjoy the other foreigners (they're all the salt of the earth, as far as I'm concerned), it's just that my closest friends here, besides Kathryn, are Chinese.  Three of them have become family to me over the past nearly three months that I have been here.  In the midst of the difficult time that this last month has been, what with worrying about my mother constantly, Maggie, Linda, and Susie have gone above and beyond to encourage and love me.  So, I am always excited to spend time with them.

Maggie, Linda, and Susie cheered when we boarded their bus.  And then, after some preliminaries, Maggie promptly starting teaching Kathryn and I how to say "rest area" and "highway" in Chinese, much to the great delight of the other Chinese staff on the bus ("You never stop having lessons," one person laughed).  I then taught Maggie how to say "wind turbine" and "toll booth" (betcha can't guess what kind of scenery we were going past!), and then Maggie and Linda wanted to see if I could still remember the three words that Linda taught me in Weihai ("sand", "sea", and "beach").  I accidentally used the wrong tone when saying "sand", and thus learned how to say "foolish".  Isn't Chinese fun?!  Linda amused herself (and me) by teaching me about four more ways to say foolish, three of which I have, sadly, forgotten.  Everyone on our bus, including Kathryn and I, had brought snacks, so a lot of sharing of food went on (I love that particular Asian custom!).  I got to try yet another new fruit, which I really enjoyed, but I can't tell what it is called because I only heard the name in Chinese just once, over the excited din of conversation, and Linda and Susie had no idea what to call it in English (it probably doesn't have an English name).

Coming into Penglai, we saw on one side of the bus apple orchards, rich with luscious fruit, stretching endlessly into the horizon.  On the other side, we were treated to thriving vineyards backed by the glistening sea.  We stopped to look at the thousands of apples, then boarded the bus again and went to a stunning scenic area where we ate lunch.  I didn't eat anything too odd; the oddest thing was the fanged fish that glared at me with its accusing eye, and I wasn't about to touch that, no matter how much Maggie encouraged me to do so.  After lunch, we had a wonderful walk along the sea, admiring the beauty of various statues honoring the Eight Immortals (heros of old Chinese myth, whom Maggie and Linda told me quite a bit about) and the temples and pagodas.

We next headed to our first main destination:  Lottie Moon's church.  The building was restored and allowed to reopen following the Cultural Revolution, and the Southern Baptist church has since donated the funds to build a second church, which is next door.  We stopped in to hear the choir practicing in Lottie's church (I think she would have loved to have peeked into the future and seen/heard that).  Afterwards, we went into the other church to learn more about Lottie's life.  The talk was bittersweet; we learned that the pastor of the second church, as well of his wife, were killed with an ax by a former church member just last summer.  It was tragic to hear, particularly when we learned what wonderful people the Qins were.

We walked around, admiring the buildings and nearly feeling the history of the place course through our veins, then checked into our hotel.  Dinner was, as it always is in China, an adventure.  Owing to Maggie not telling me what I was eating until I had already swallowed it, I inadvertently ate sea intestines (not sure what manner of sea creature they were once a functioning part of, actually) and, to my horror, a tube worm. Although the flavor of both was just fine, I just couldn't bring myself to take another bite of that particular dish -- I have to draw the line somewhere, and worms definitely cross it.  The corn soup with pink sprinkles in it (as in the kind that one generally finds on cupcakes or ice cream sundaes) was delicious, as was the sweet and sour chicken, the mouthwateringly piquant chicken necks, and the wonderful spicy eggplant.

After dinner, a bunch of us took a long walk in the refreshingly cold evening air.  When we got back, I offered to teach Maggie how to play Quiddler, a fun card game that I brought from the states (the object, in a nutshell, is to make words).  Kathryn and another friend of ours, Ben, were also eager to learn, so we had a great game together.  Maggie loved the chance to improve her English, grabbing my arm every time an unfamiliar word was played and saying "Lao-San, shen-me yi si?"  ("Lao-San, what does it mean?"  In the end, she learned about ten new words.  Maggie loved the game!

As Kathryn and I settled ourselves into our beds that night, chatting amiably, I could still seem to detect the faint flavor of the worm I had eaten earlier that night, despite the best efforts of my toothpaste.  I knew it was just my imagination (the worm had no aftertaste), but it was nevertheless persuasive.  On the whole, however, I fell asleep with happy memories of the day playing about in my mind.

Yay Duck:  The scenery, the history, the time with treasured friends, the extra Chinese lessons, the beautiful singing at the church, and the chance to share one of my favorite games with some of my favorite people.

Yuck Duck: The worm.


More about my weekend adventures in my next post!

At Last, an Answer to the Ageless Question . . .

During yet another phenomenal weekend spent with Chinese friends (and fellow foreign friends, too), I at last remembered to ask about a question which has intrigued me, and many others, I'm sure, for years.

As any American child knows, any time that you dig a deep hole, people ask if you are digging to China. Or, if you are a child similar to the child that I was, digging all the way to China is your actual intent.  Ever since I was a little girl, I have wondered if Chinese people do the same thing in reverse.  When they did a hole, do they say that they are digging to America?

So, yesterday my friend Kathryn and I, while out on a stroll with Maggie, decided to answer this ageless question.  Maggie was quite amused to hear about our childhood adventures of digging to China.  But, sadly, she informed us that the Chinese do not do the same thing in reverse.  She had, in fact, never heard of such a thing, delightful as she found it.

And so, dear friends, the answer is no.  But perhaps that is subject to change -- Maggie really liked the idea of digging a hole to America!

Stephanie's Latest Addiction

As those close to me know, I have a habit of going through phases where I crave a certain food above all other things, sometimes to ridiculous extents.  There was, for example, the Great Grapefruit Binge of 2001, in which I went through the equivalent of an orchard in about two weeks' time.  In college I went through my Rice Phase and my Cheese and Crackers Fortnight.  There was the Frozen Mango Madness in Korea, which cropped up for weeks at a time throughout my year there, as well as the Jajang Myeon Period, in which I ate that same dish for lunch and dinner for about three weeks straight (and still wasn't sick of it).  Shortly after I arrived here in China, I experienced the Dragonfruit Bender of 2011, and subsequently learned that overabundance of dragonfruit in the diet has unpleasant side effects for the tummy.

I have recently become enamored with red dates.  I cannot get enough of them!  I was introduced to red date yogurt by my friend Kathryn several weeks ago, and have been eating it almost daily ever since.  I love it because it is not too sweet, and it has just the slightest edge to the flavor.  While in Weihai, Linda and her husband introduced me to the actual fruit, which I immediately took to.

I find that the flavor is best when the dates are in their mostly green phase of life.  They are called red dates because they turn red after being dried.  There are apparently two different types of them, and my kind friends had me sample both.  Those pictured above are the sort that I like best.

Some of the Chinese staff at school were explaining to me recently that red dates (also known as Chinese dates or jujubes) have a ton of health benefits, and when I researched the matter, I found that they were quite right.  Apparently, these have been used in Chinese medicine for over 1,000 years!  They are good for strengthening the blood, helping to cure anemia, and they are supposed to aid the spleen and several other organs.  Additionally (and for me, most importantly), they taste utterly delicious.

The texture is similar to that of an apple when the dates are fresh, and their size is comparable to that of a grape.  They are not too pricy of an indulgence: I bought about a pound of them from Lotus today and paid the equivalent of less than three dollars for them.  You'd pay more than that for chips or a lot of other snacks, and these are way better for you.  I prefer to just munch them as-is, but I have seen a ton of recipes for them, so I may experiment a bit later.

Adventures in Weihai

I just returned from a phenomenal staff retreat in Weihai, the city where I almost lived (I had a job offer there that I came very close to not turning down).  Initially, I felt apprehension mingled in amongst my anticipation -- although excited about the chance to spend time with several dear friends, I wondered exactly how much fun one could have while stuck on crutches with an ankle that swells up like an angry balloon at the slightest provocation.  I need not have worried -- my incredibly sweet Chinese friends made it a wonderful time!

I spent most of my time as the foreign minority among Chinese, and I couldn't have been happier!  I got to know several staff members that I had not previously gotten to spend much time with (their jobs and mine don't really intersect).  I also spent a lot of time being looked after by my "older sisters" Maggie and Linda and my "little sister" Susie.  They took me all over the place, frequently grabbing my crutches to make sure that I didn't slip and fall or get flung through the air (yes, they know me well already).  We also had two fantastic and inspiring seminars.

There were several unique and special moments during the trip:

• I received a nickname from my Chinese friends.  Since there are four Stephanies at school, Maggie decided to rename me "Lao-San" (basically, it means that I am the third age-wise).  It seems to be catching on, so I may have a lengthy future as Lao-San.  Fortunately, I like it.
• I ate jellyfish!  I did not like it!
• I ate "hundred year old egg" -- duck egg that is covered with mud and buried, then dug up and served after it turns black.  (Surprisingly, it tastes good, and obviously, I had no idea what it was before I ate it.  I thought it was just an odd garnish on the tofu.)
• I ate a chicken foot.  It showed up in one of the dishes at dinner, so I figured I might as well eat it.  Not bad, but not awesome.
• I ate pig heart.  This was another instance where I did not actually know what I was eating (it just happened to be in my soup at the Korean soup restaurant that friends and I went to).  It was okay, but I did not care for the texture.  Maggie insisted that it was good for my skin and that I should finish it all, but I had filled up on soup, rice, and kimchi and had no desire to eat more.
• I ate a very odd sweet cold soup which had a texture and appearance exactly like the results of a giant's head cold . . . if the giant had something horribly wrong with his sinuses.  I liked it, although it looked dreadful (that seems to happen a lot here in China).  I was eating dinner with a tableful of teens and preteens, so I opted to set a good example by not telling the kids what I thought the soup resembled until after dinner.
• I got to go sailing with three friends.  We had perfect weather, albeit chilly, and managed not to get wet.  Poor dear Ruth, the Chinese teacher who shares my classroom, was not so lucky.  She and her husband were enjoying a very cute voyage in a kayak, then tipped right as they were coming into shore!
• I taught a whole bunch of American slang to several of the Chinese staff.  I figured it was only fair, since they are always teaching me Chinese words.
• I learned several new words, including beach, sea, sand, Chinese donut (that's really the best translation for it), and "let's go".
• I was forced to dance.  As one of our team-building activities, our small groups had to each do the same song and dance in front of everyone.  My group was a bit unimpressed by the motions that were supposed to go with the song, so we improvised and changed it up in the third stanza, ending with a bow.  We received cheers and applause for our efforts, though we didn't win.
• Maggie made me speak Chinese only (well, as close as I could get) while we were out and about on our first day (not for the whole day, just a large portion of it).  I was really surprised by how much I can understand; unfortunately, my vocabulary is very noun-heavy at the moment, so my limited verbs really cut down on my conversation potential.

So, although the crutches are a "Yuck Duck", the entire time in Weihai was mega "Yay Duck"!

Off to Beijing! . . . with Two Unwanted Accomplices

On Saturday morning, at the wee hour of 6:00, the bus came by to pick up Beth and I, along with some coworkers, and cart us off to the airport.  It was time for our teachers' conference in Beijing, an event we've all been looking forward to, even if it did cut into our week-long October holiday.  Travel is always a bit hectic, but in my case, there was the further complication of "Eustace and Puddleglum" -- the crutches I've been hobbling about on since Wednesday.

Wednesday was an exhausting day -- so exhausting, in fact, that I am sorry to admit to having a rather negative attitude towards the mandatory dinner that new staff had to attend after school.  While I appreciated the constant care offered to us by the school, I felt smothered at the time, and really would have preferred a quiet evening of leftovers on the couch with Beth.  The heavy rain and the fact that I left my umbrella at school did not improve my mood.  The dinner was delicious, prepared by a very sweet Korean couple from school, but I was so deeply entrenched in my unhappy mood that not even food could cheer me up.  Standing in the rain with the Braces (the couple that I traveled to China with) for more than half an hour waiting for a taxi after dinner and getting soaked continued to make me secretly cranky.  It was oddly fitting when I slipped on the slippery tile sidewalk on the way home and sprained my ankle . . . and then repeated the performance the next morning in the foyer.

I went in to see Dr. Ruth, our school nurse, shortly after she arrived at school on Thursday morning.  She examined my swollen ankle, wrapped it, and sentenced me to a week of crutches.  With our school being full of staircases (I teach on the third floor), crutches and a sprained ankle made my week end on a completely exhausted note.  It also meant that three of our staff were now on crutches, leading students to speculate about a possible curse.  Nitta broke her foot when her sink fell on it a few days before my injury, and a second grade teacher, Karen, had a knee injury weeks ago (followed by surgery while we were in Beijing).  Fortunately for me, the rest of the staff and my students were all quite sweet to me, carrying my lunch tray for me, moving obstacles out of me path, and even helping me up the stairs.

We had a pretty uneventful flight to Beijing, although it was a pretty cramped ride to the airport (one staff member had to ride on the luggage because there wasn't a seat).  All of our luggage made it, and I managed not to wipe out while disembarking from the plane (it probably helped that Vickie was assisting me).  We arrived at our hotel in a short amount of time, and were thrilled with how nice it was -- the softest beds I've ever seen in Asia, for one thing!

Since the conference wouldn't start until that evening, a group of us headed off to Beijing's Dirt Market, a really cool place with minority artisans sell their wares.  It was tough having to do my exploring and shopping on crutches, but it sure beat staying alone in my hotel room, so I grimaced and bore it.  We split up into twos, since you can't bargain effectively if you are in a larger group of foreigners.  My friend Jane (not the same Jane who is married to our head principal), principal of our new Early Childhood Center, opted to go with me.  We have similar interests, so we had a great time together.  We got matching jade bracelets at unbelievable prices and each picked up a piece of art (a painting of cherry blossoms for my bedroom and a painting of the ocean for her office).  We had lots of fun looking at the unique crafts and antiques.  After the Dirt Market, we all headed (and hobbled) off to Peder's, a fantastic Mexican restaurant, where I had the best milkshake I've had in years (mmmm, Bailey's!) and chicken/beef enchiladas.

The conference itself was quite interesting, and even inspiring at times.  I only had one session disappoint me, although I did later wish that I had gone to more of one woman's sessions, as I found hers to be the most helpful.  One of the focuses was on fine arts, and I got some great ideas for further fine arts integration in my classroom.  I also went to a really interesting seminar about women in the UAE, which made me even more thankful to be in China!

There was so much to do in Beijing that even without crutches I would not have been able to do as much as I wanted.  I decided that sightseeing should wait until I have two good feet (or at least one good foot and one sullenly-behaving foot), so I did not go to the Great Wall or any of the cultural sights that I long to see.  I instead focused on making some necessary purchases for improving life, such as a pair of Uggs to get me through the upcoming Chinese fall and winter (with my Renaud's Disease, cold weather is horrible).  I managed to bargain my way down to a great price on a beautiful new purse (apparently, I am much better at bargaining here than I am in Mexico -- I guess I've gotten more stubborn in my "old age").  I got to eat at the best Indian restaurant I've ever been to, I had a horrendously crowded IKEA experience, and I got to meet up with all of the friends I made at PFO and find out how they were adjusting to their respective cities.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the oddest and coolest part of my trip to Beijing:  I ran into a girl from Galesburg, Michigan, which is remarkably close to my hometown.  When we started talking, we discovered that her home church was one of the five that supported my high school!  She turned out to know several people that I went to school with.  Then, just to make things even odder, we met another girl who currently lives in Guam and works with a girl that I went to high school with and that my Galesburg friend went to church with!  Talk about six degrees of separation!

A large group of us, including two of the three cripples and several babies, traveled on the same late flight back from Beijing.  When the bus (that picked us up from the airport) deposited the last of us by the back gate of our apartment area, our head principal and his wife decided to shove me into a wheelchair and give me a ride back to my building (since I had nearly fallen down the stairs when disembarking from the plane earlier, I think they were motivated by practicality as well as charity).  Dave suggested to Jane that she let go of the chair while we were heading downhill, which meant that my not-quite-runaway wheelchair (Jane was running behind it) nearly took out dear Tien (wife of one of our school counselors), who was pushing her son's stroller.  Tien is, fortunately, an agile jumper.  We made it back without further incident, and I gratefully collapsed into bed shortly thereafter (it was a little after midnight when we got in).

Although Beijing was a fun city to visit, it is not nearly as friendly or as uncrowded (by comparison) as Qingdao, and quite frankly, you could not pay me to live there!  I had a great time, despite the ankle, but I am really glad to be home!

Pichaiyuan on a Sunday

Two Sundays ago, some of the Chinese staff from school took out several of us new foreign staff.  They wanted to show us a really neat area, Pichaiyuan, and introduce us to even more of the local food.  Susie, the one who organized things, divided us foreigners into pairs and small groups and then assigned a Chinese staff person to each group, which was a great idea.  I was happy to have Linda, whom I had only recently met but very much wanted to know better, placed in charge of my group.

My favorite of the foods that we got to try was a soup that Linda explained is called "tofu brains" when you translate it into English.  I am sorry to say, it is not a pretty dish.  In fact, it looks like vomited cottage cheese floating in a bowl of mucus.  If you can overcome the appearance, however, (as I did), it is really delicious.  Honestly!  Another thing I enjoyed was the mutton on a stick.  Susie claimed that it was spicy, but I disagreed.  So, Linda got me another one that had about five times the usual amount of red pepper on it.  I offered to share, but this is not a province accustomed to truly spicy food, so my Chinese friends declined the offer.  One of them remarked "I would die!' when offered a bite.  I guess Korea really did give me tastebuds of steel when it comes to spiciness!

We also got to see some of the fantastic Chinese crafts for sale, such as the adorable pens that they make and little carvings made from vegetables.  We saw a lot of pretty scenery, and even got to check out a neat bookstore on our way home.  It was one of the most fun days I've had here in China, which is saying a lot.

Our happy group, after a few hours of good food and exploring.

New Haircut

Having had a stressful few weeks, I was in need of some change.  Whacking my hair off seemed a good option.

So, this morning I went to a salon where they speak only Chinese (relax, I had Beth with me), and had a wonderfully relaxing head massage as they washed my hair (oh, I do so LOVE Asia!).  Then, using a mixture of charades, Chinese, Chinglish, and some help from a guy who turned out to speak excellent English, Beth and I managed to communicate that I wanted my hair cut to my shoulders, with layers and face framing.  The man came who was to cut my hair . . . and within a moment, I knew that I was in the hands of The Artist (you should pronounce that word with an accent in your head in order to have the proper effect).

He was a very trendy fellow.  Chinese, with blond, "pretty boy" hair, tight red pants, shirt stylishly unbuttoned just the "correct" amount, and a demeanor that bespoke dedication to Hair (capitalization essential).  He examined.  He unsheathed his scissors in a way I have only seen in sitcoms.  Never have I witnessed such dedication to craft -- it was as though my head were a canvas, and he was da Vinci.  Every individual strand of hair received his personal attention.  He molded, he shaped . . . in his capable hands, my hair yielded to a master and actually behaved.

This grand production, "Mysterious Foreigner in the Hands of The Artist," naturally, attracted a fair amount of attention.  Soon, we had a crowd of about ten Chinese people gathered around us: five employees of the salon, three customers, and two people that I honestly believe just came in off the street to observe the show.  There was considered conversation, all in low, hushed voices, as the masses of hair continued to plummet to the floor.  It was a little unnerving for the foreigner, who rapidly became aware that she was losing a bit more hair than she had intended.  As The Artist worked, however, I began to see something -- an incredibly cute, flattering hairstyle -- emerging, and I realized that I had nothing to fear.

The production continued after the cutting, thinning, and such was done.  The Artist stepped back and an underling (I assume, from the respective demeanors of both parties) came forward to handle the mundane process of drying my hair.  When it was, I thought, done, The Artist returned.  A few strands troubled him, and were immediately trimmed.  Other flaws that I could not discern were likewise fixed. Then, The Artist finished drying every single individual strand of my hair, molding each of them to face the right direction.  I have never in my life received such attention at a hair salon -- it was $500 service, for the equivalent of $10.  Wow; somedays I really, really love China even more than usual.

To make the whole thing even more theatrical, the group around us actually applauded when it was over!

Here's a "before" photo of my shaggy long hair, which had managed to grow three inches since I came to China (honestly, my hair and nails have never in my life grown as fast as they do here):

And, here's the New Look, courtesy of The Artist (the photos do not do it justice; I had gotten a bit windblown from going grocery shopping, pearl-shopping at Jimolu, and two taxi rides with the window down):

"Going Chinese"

One of the Chinese staff at school remarked to me the other day that I'm "becoming very Chinese".  I agreed and told her that I'm basically an "egg" -- I'm white on the outside but yellow on the inside (and no, that is not a racist comment; it's a joke made between friends of different races, and both of of us found it funny)!  The same thing happened to me in Korea; for me, Asia is just a really good fit and I find it comfortable to assimilate into the culture in various ways.

The particular form of cultural assimilation that inspired my friend's comment was that I went out last Friday for a massage with other coworkers and decided to try cupping while I was at it.  Cupping is an expensive trendy thing on the US West Coast; in China, it's pretty normal and very inexpensive (about $3 for ten minutes).  Several of our Chinese staff swear by the health benefits of it.  In fact, one of them, Shine, was talking just recently about how her mother-in-law does cupping on her entire family any time one of them starts to feel sick, and it apparently makes them much better.

Personally, I have very high respect for Asian medicine and Asian health ideas.  In Korea, I personally witnessed the way spicy food and kimchi cured colds in a fraction of the time, and I saw the way that acupuncture cured my boss, Cate, after she had spent a miserable week dealing with horrible indigestion (it was so bad that she could barely get up).  I have had Korean, Thai, and Chinese massages, and have personally experienced remarkable health benefits from each.  The holistic way that they view the body makes sense and has positive results.  So, when Chinese friends/coworkers were telling me that cupping worked, it seemed to me worth giving it a try, even if my American brain had no idea how it could possibly be any good.

For those who don't know what cupping is, here's a description of my experience:  Following my two-hour massage (at which point I was ready to melt onto the floor), the masseuse took a torch and lit it.  Then, holding it mere inches from my bared back (a bit intimidating, yes), he used it to burn the oxygen out of glasses, which he then stuck to my back.  The lack of oxygen created a vacuum, which sucked an impressive amount of my skin up into each of the glasses.  Although this process may sound painful, it actually only hurt on my lower back, and not badly at that.  When the guy pulled the glasses off of me, the "SPLOCKing" noise could be heard in the next room, much to the delight of my coworkers.

So how was my experience?  To be honest, I think there might be something to cupping.  I definitely had a spring in my step that hasn't been there in a while, I had a noticeable lack of muscle pain (yes, I know, the massage definitely helped with that, too), I slept better than ever the next two nights, and I really felt invigorated.  I've decided to try cupping once a month for the next six months, just to see if it makes a difference.

Below, see the results of cupping -- and no, those bruises really didn't hurt!  (The lighting and the webcam washed out some of the bruises -- I had a total of seventeen of them.)

Vignettes from the Past Few Weeks

I'm sorry about the lack of posts this month -- let's just say, I've been lucky to find time to sleep, let alone write!  Meetings, essays, tests, creating lessons, technology problems, more technology problems . . . Stephanie has been a stressed gal lately.  But, here are some little vignettes:

Ayi
Our ayi is a blessing beyond belief.  Coming home to those beautifully polished floors twice a week and a delicious home-cooked meal every Tuesday . . . ahh, healing experiences.  Ayi made jaoza (dumplings) two weeks ago, and they were so heavenly that I could actually hear the Hallelujah chorus in my head with every bite I took.  Beth and I ate off those things for about a week, since Ayi clearly thinks we are starving.  Last week, following our exhausting round of four meetings in one day, we were delighted to come home to something marvelously spicy.  I can't wait to see what Ayi comes up with today!

Volleyball

The girls have really impressed me.  When we first started, they could barely hit during scrimmages.  In one of our early practices, I joked that poor So Young was a magnet, because she got hit in the head SIX times!  In another early practices, all of the girls who wear glasses managed to get hit in the face (?!).  Now, they are SO much more accurate!  As always, they continue to be a very upbeat, team-spiritied bunch, but now they're adding some real skill to that.  I really think we have a shot at doing well in our first game next week.

Lotus

For three weeks, I walked sadly past Lotus's fruit and vegetable stand, which was closed because her husband was in hospital with pneumonia.  Thank goodness, he is just fine now.  On Saturday, Lotus was back, to the immense joy of all of us foreigners in this neighborhood.  We all love Lotus!  I told her that we were all sad to go so long without seeing her, and she said that she really missed all of us, too.

The Joys of Technology (Can You Hear the Sarcasm?)

I had a professor in college who was fond of warning us, "Those who live by technology will die by technology."  He could not have been more correct lately!  We teachers have joked that the theme of this school year is technological difficulties.  Between our dear host country continually blocking things left and right on the internet (some days Google works, and other days it doesn't), the issues with our network, the server issues (got struck by lightening back in August, for one thing), and of course, all of the email mayhem, we have all begun to twitch a bit when we think about technology.  Last week, we had a particularly "amusing" incident:  One branch of our company did something that messed up email, then sent an email to tell us about it!  I laughed aloud over that one.  It took a few days to get the mess straightened out, which meant that I had no way of accessing the ninth grade essays, which the students had emailed to me.  Argh.  We worked out a potential solution to future issues in our last high school meeting (thank heaven for an on-the-ball high school principal!) and we have a solution as well for getting out urgent messages reliably:  We now have a whiteboard in the teachers' lounge.  Yup, we're kickin' it old school!

A Test for the Sophs

My sophomores took their first "Ms. Thompson" test on Monday, and oh what a joy it was.  I have the unfortunate quality of actually caring about these kids, which means I make a lot of work for myself.  In this instance, I created four different versions of the test, to make cheating almost impossible, and put both a map and a huge essay on the thing.  Ug.  That was some painful grading!  So laborious!  For the most part, I was pretty happy with the results.  In my smaller class, every student passed!  In fact, the class average for them was 95.7%, which meant that I brought in snack cakes for them today as a reward.  In my larger class, only two kids failed.  Most kids were in the A-B range, with a few Cs and Ds.  I can live with those grades!  I was a bit dismayed by just how badly a few kids did (I told the class that a couple of tests caused me physical pain and made me punch the sofa), but I was thrilled with how seriously almost all of the students took the essay.  I allowed a cheat sheet for it (3x5 inch, and I didn't let them use it until they had handed in the main portion of the test), hoping that it would mean better thought out essays, and my plan worked!  Most students gave good introductions and conclusions, had very specific details, and even spelled everything correctly.  I think I may continue to allow essay cheat sheets on future tests.

Presentations for the Freshies

My adorably stressed freshmen had their first papers and their first big solo presentations!  They had to give a thorough explanation of their own personal worldview in their paper, then present it to the class within very specific guidelines.  I was, on the whole, quite impressed with what a good bunch of presenters I have in this class.  All of them came prepared, most had excellent eye contact, and they followed the directions!  What good freshies I have!  They were a bit frightened of the time requirement (two and a half to three minutes for the speeches), but most kids did just fine staying within the limits.  To let them know when two and a half and then three minutes were up, I squeaked Yay Duck.  Alice, a very cute and likable Korean girl (all but one of my freshies are Korean, actually) in the class, had sage advice for her classmates after she had finished her speech:  "Just don't focus on the squeak.  At first you feel afraid of the squeak, but if you relax, you don't have to fear the squeak.  And you feel very good when it is all over."

Chinese Lessons

I accused Jackie on Monday of deliberately trying to make my head go sailing off from the sheer amount of material we covered.  She smiled and nodded.  Today, it was more like facial calisthenics.  We focused on some sounds that require considerable effort (particularly the ü sound), and my mouth was actually sore when we finished!  However, both days Jackie accessed my efforts as "Fei chang hao!" (fantastic).  Apparently, we will finish pinyin on Monday, and then we move on to focusing on vocabulary.  I'm excited because I've been dying to be able to communicate better with Chinese people, particularly now that I have a new volunteer activity that allows me to interact more with them.  I continue to love my Chinese lessons, despite all the work.  Last week, I actually had the chance to teach my teacher!  Jackie taught me the word for panda, and was surprised to learn that many American zoos have them (she's never been to the USA, so she is always interested to hear about what it's like).  I mentioned that red pandas are more common in zoos, which thoroughly confused Jackie -- she had no idea what animal I was talking about!  I tried to describe them, but she was still definitely envisioning a literal red panda, so after class, I emailed her a picture.  She had never seen a red panda, and was enthralled with how cute they are.  I think these cultural interactions, where we learn about each other's home countries (or in that case, about our own), are probably even more enjoyable for me than learning the language.  I love it when Jackie explains the reasoning behind certain words or tells me bits of history.  I love, too, the large number of Chinese friends that I'm making.

Transition

I am certainly still in transition.  For those of you who have never lived abroad, I don't know that I can accurately put into words exactly what it is like -- you really have to live abroad in order to understand it.  It's a whole score of emotional, physical, psychological issues that a person goes through simultaneously, but also in stages (or in some cases, onslaughts).  With my mother experiencing health problems back in my passport country, my transition has had a definite shift.  This week was really rough, because emotions that I have not really worked through came to the surface all at once and demanded attention from me.  On Monday, I had a bit of a breakdown after school, which I worked my way through with a very long walk on the rocks in the ocean, followed by dinner with Beth.  Probably the amount of stress I've been under has made my emotions more of an issue than they would otherwise be.

There are definitely a lot more emotions at play for me now than what I experienced in Korea, and not just because of what's going on with my mother -- plus, China is really a completely different ballgame.  Like in Korea, I have not experienced any homesickness -- quite the contrary; despite all the issues, I feel quite at home here, even more so than I did in Korea.  Korea, however, felt more like a short-term adventure that I knew would be of only a one or two year duration.  China, from the start, is guaranteed to be two years.  But I am already feeling quite strongly that it will not end there.  I could easily see myself staying here for a very long time, assuming I am not called elsewhere.  I love my job, I work for good people, I have comfortable living conditions, I have friends, and I have an excellent fellowship.

Some people have wondered whether I have experienced any feelings of isolation.  Well, not many.  I have had a few moments, mostly earlier this week, but on the whole, living in community the way that we do here, I am generally not alone (either physically or mentally).  People here are really compassionate, and they tend to notice when someone is not running on all cylinders, so I feel very cared about and cared for.  I have tons of support and love here:  I get a lot of hugs, I found a muffin in my cubbyhole in the teachers' lounge yesterday, I get regular emails (when we aren't having tech issues, that is), I've gotten notes, and I get invited places more often than ever before.  People always want to stop and chat when they run into me, which perfectly fulfills my psychological need to get out a high minimum number of words each day!  And speaking of invitations, I get at least two dinner invitations every week!  Nitta is an encouraging and supportive principal, so even though I just agreed to take on even more work at school (?!), I feel very appreciated and valued at work.

On the whole, although transition has its ups and downs, it's a river that I can ford my way across.

The Longest Week

This week shall live in my memory as one of supreme exhaustion and duration.  I am convinced that it has not been a week at all, but rather, a month.  Surely one cannot cram this much into a mere seven-day period!

On Sunday, following an enlightening "book study", I went out to lunch with a friend and her pre-teen daughter.  Her daughter just arrived back from a summer in America, owing to a passport nightmare that left her stranded in the USA for more than a month.  Poor India had quite the rough time!  She's a delightful, mature, and witty girl to be around, so I thoroughly enjoyed getting a chance to know her.  And of course, I really enjoyed getting to have my favorite Korean meal, dak galbi, for lunch!  To make Sunday even better, we stopped at a Korean supermarket, where I was able to get milk that doesn't come in a box on a shelf, reasonably-priced cereal, my favorite Korean pancake mix, and a tasty milkshake.  Then I followed all that with six hours of lesson-planning at home, which made my injured left hand swell up impressively.

On Monday, I had numerous problems with the internet, a common issue here, and thus had a miserable time finishing up my lesson plans for the week during my planning periods.  At my Chinese lesson, I discovered another sound that is extremely hard for me to make correctly.  During my first class, I dealt with two kids who came dangerously close to getting detentions (a rarity in my classes, thankfully).  After school, I had volleyball practice with my JV girls, so I took the late bus home at 5:00.  I then spent five hours grading, a sizable portion of which was spent moaning over a quiz that one class should have done MUCH better on.  I resisted the urge to put either the quizzes or my head in the oven.

Tuesday had two very involved lesson plans, more computer/internet battles, a war with my online gradebook (which it is still sulking over), a high school faculty meeting, and then . . . another late night.  Make that, an exceedingly late night!  We were having College Night at school, an event where parents could come and get all of their questions answered about things like AP classes, transcripts, university requirements, SAT, etc.  Since I am teaching and creating the College Prep class, I was asked to give a presentation about my class and about the SAT.  Since College Night was to start at 6:30 and we live 40 minutes from school, it made no sense to go home.  So, Nitta graciously took those of us who were staying over (herself, me, the director of student services, our Korean liaison, and one of the high school counselors) out to dinner at a wonderful Western restaurant.  

We got back to school just in time to set up, and then it was one looooooooong night!  We had a good turnout of parents, and they were chock full of questions.  Plus, since most of them don't speak English, our liaison Vickie (a dear Korean gal) had to translate everyone else's presentations.  When she got to her own presentation and started trying to go back and forth between languages, Nitta kindly translated for her.  Although exhausted, I did enjoy listening to the translations, as I always do.  Hearing Korean spoken just gives me warm fuzzies inside.  I made the parents really happy by introducing myself in Korean to them and bowing properly -- Nitta and Vickie had egged me on at dinner to do this, saying that the parents would love it.  They were really interested in my presentation, as I had anticipated (Korean parents are very devoted to getting their kids into the best universities).  Many of the parents were dismayed to learn that their children had missed a chance to take my class this semester; I have a feeling that my class-list for next semester is going to grow quite rapidly!  After our successful but wearying evening, we wound up leaving school at 9:30 pm.  On the way home, Nitta made an offer that was intended to be sweet but which was actually a bit ominous:  Knowing that I've had a lot on my mind lately, she told me that if I ever need help keeping busy, I can feel free to come to her.  I replied, "Nitta, did you really just make me that offer after tonight?!"

On Wednesday, my body announced its disappointment in only getting three hours of sleep for the past few days (I've had too much on my mind to be able to sleep).  I ignored it, and taught two very strenuous lessons, then coached another volleyball practice and left at five, yearning to go to sleep.  I ignored the yearning and instead went to dinner at a coworker's place, which turned out to be wonderful therapy.  We had sort of a mini-UN group of three Americans, a Chinese-Canadian, a Malaysian-Indian-Australian, and a South African.  We had fantastic conversations about the worst jobs we've ever had, previous students we've taught, current students and their dramatic lives, and language mishaps we've had here in China.  We also had a really neat discussion about bad words -- now I know that the term "fanny pack" is extremely offensive in several other cultures, and that I need to never again use any of the language that I heard from my British friends in Korea (apparently, many of those words they used were uber-offensive).

I had an "entertaining" taxi ride home.  Despite my practically shouting at the driver in Chinese to stop by the back gate of the apartment complex, he completely ignored me and took me to the front gate, giving me a nice long walk in the rain while carrying both of my computers (I have grading saved on one and need the Mac for creating my lessons).  I really need to ask Jackie to teach me some stronger language so that taxi drivers will take me more seriously!

It's still not over.  Despite taking the early bus today (a bold decision that I resolutely stuck to despite my need to work on things in my classroom), it's been another draining day.  Three hours of sleep yet again last night, loads of material to cover today, lessons for next week to start arranging for (I'm having one of the Chinese staff in as a guest speaker in College Prep), and on top of that, I'm dog-sitting for friends for the next few days, which meant finding time for two decent walks and picking up groceries for while I am staying over here.  

Tomorrow will be exhausting, too.  Quizzes in every class, plus I'm giving an emotional presentation to all of my history classes:  In light of September 11, I've decided to do a special presentation about the events, my memories from the day, and the Al Qaida perspective for why the attacks occurred (I want kids to look at both sides of stories, even if it is really controversial -- that's part of being good historians).  Then in the evening, there will be a birthday dinner for one of my closest friends here.  On Saturday, there's a shopping trip to a massive store (it's sort of like Sam's Club).  In the evening, we're having a massive birthday bonfire on the beach to celebrate about six birthdays and to create a good excuse for lighting things on fire.  Someone has already spoken about having lunch with me on Sunday (I have forgotten whom . . . oops).  Sometime this weekend, I've got to write a test for two classes and get all of my grading done for mid-quarter. 

Whew!  Don't things ever slow down around here?!  Thank goodness we have no school on Monday!  (Naturally, teachers still "get to" go in.)

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Yay Duck:  People obviously like me, as they keep inviting me places.  I have the world's best coworkers.  I am never bored.  Also, my principal apparently thinks I am very qualified.

Yuck Duck:  I'm exhausted, but can't sleep.  I'm stressed.  I've had four Renaud's attacks this week.  I have grading out the wazoo (why did I assign all this homework?!).  My hand is still recovering slowly from being injured at Fall Camp.  I'm worried about my mother.  I worry that I'm not good enough to coach a sport (I mean, let's face it -- athletic and I have never been used in the same sentence).

Ah, Language! Thou Art So . . . Humorous

I have a theory:  I believe that the Chinese people deliberately created their language in such a way as to ensure that foreigners regularly look extremely foolish.  Recent events bear this theory out.

In my last Chinese lesson, my teacher asked me (in Chinese) whether or not I like birds.  I meant to say, "I like birds."  I said what I thought was "I like birds."  My very sweet teacher began laughing quite hard, even harder than she laughs when we successfully get my tongue tied in knots trying to say similar-sounding words in rapid succession.  In fact, she was tearing up from laughing so hard.  This was a good indication to me that I had made a mistake.  When Jackie could finally speak, she informed me that I used the wrong tone when saying the word "bird".  So, what I actually said to her was "I like to pee."  We enjoyed a long mutual laugh over that one!

I was fortunate, actually.  Our lovely, innocent, ladylike kindergarten teacher had a much worse language faux pas recently.  Being a Star Wars fan, she thought it would be fun to name one of her fish Qui-Gon.  She excitedly quizzed her little kindergartners over and over about the new class pet's name, and they eagerly shouted it back.  Many, many times.  She noticed a look of concerned surprise on the face of her Chinese teacher's aide (never a good sign).  Later, the lady mentioned to her that that particular word means "orgasm" in Chinese.  Oops!

We foreigners aren't the only ones making these "fun" blunders, of course.  Back when I taught in Korea, I was asked to give English names to some new students.  Normally, I would just name the kids on their first day in class, but this particular time, Cate (my boss) asked me just to write down the names for her, so she could tell the kids in advance (cue ominous organ music).  The next day, I asked the adorable new boy in my second-grade class to introduce himself to his classmates.  Loudly and proudly, he announced, "My name is Phallus!"  At least, that is exactly what word he said.  I was, naturally, nearly struck dead with horror.  His name was actually Felix, but Cate had not known how to pronounce it.  I quickly corrected him, then made sure to tell Cate what that mispronounced name actually meant.  From then on, we went back to having me name the kids in class!

The Longest Bridge in the World (Photos)

These are photos I took from the bus while we were crossing the longest bridge in the world, across a portion of the Yellow Sea.  Needless to say, it's a REALLY long bridge, and the photos do not do it justice.  The last shot shows some of the far side of Qingdao, which is a considerable distance from where I live and where the school is (Qingdao is quite big).

I wish I could post photos from Fall Camp, but for two reasons, I cannot:

1)  I was far too busy with the girls to even think about taking photos!

2)  Had I taken any, I still wouldn't be able to post them.  There are just too many sick, depraved people in this world for me to even THINK of sharing photos of our very beautiful teenage girls (particularly with most of them being Asian).  I prefer to keep my girls safe in this very disgusting age, so my blog readers will never get to see any of my students.  I wish the world were otherwise.

FIT

Oh, the sacrifices I make here.  Imagine . . . being forced to stay in a really nice hotel with all meals provided, a trip to a gorgeous beach with wonderful warm water, crossing the longest bridge in the world (with beautiful views of the Yellow Sea), and, in short, two incredibly fun days.  The girls loved everything that we did, so there were no issues with teenage attitudes or anything like that (honestly, we don't really have that issue under normal circumstances).

We left from the school at around 9:00 on Thursday, with a gaggle of extremely excited teenage girls.  Yes, teenagers actually showing excitement about spending quality time with their teachers and high school principal -- these things actually HAPPEN here!  We piled our 87 girls, ten teachers (a great cultural gumbo of three Chinese, one Korean, a South African, and five Americans), assorting luggage, and ten watermelons into two buses and a van, and the adventure was on!  We were headed to Huang Dou, a beautiful island off the coast of Qingdao.  To get there, we rode through an incredibly long tunnel under the Yellow Sea (which the girls - and me - all thought was pretty neat).

Our theme, which we teachers spent weeks putting together, was FIT: being fit spiritually, mentally, emotionally, relationally, academically, physically, and spiritually.  We explained to the girls that to be truly fit, they needed a holistic balance of all of these, a concept which they readily embraced.  For one of our first fit-themed activities, we had in advance told the girls that they were going to have a healthy lunch competition.  They were broken into eight teams, which were a mix of girls from each grade, with either one or two seniors in charge (we like giving the seniors opportunities for leadership, and the younger grades enjoy having an "older sister" relationship with their upperclassmen).  Each team had a budget of only 30 kuai (almost $4) per person, including the teacher in charge of their group (each group got at least one teacher).  The girls had to prepare a lunch that was healthy, delicious, and colorful.  My worst fear was that I would wind up with a group that did tuna in some capacity -- I regard tuna as a dish best reserved for cats.  I was overcome with relief and delight when I learned that my gang of girls had decided to do chicken fajitas (not a common dish here in China!).  For dessert, they had a traditional Korean rice punch that I love.  I told the girls that they were superstars for picking such a delicious lunch sans tuna -- and the judges of the lunch competition agreed, because my girls came in FIRST place!  Other groups did lunches like kimbap, bibimbap, and sandwiches.  One group made homemade banana milkshakes for their dessert.

After lunch, we sent the girls up to briefly get settled in their rooms.  Then it was off to the beach!  This being China, we naturally had to have a wee bit of drama with that:  we had forgotten the money for the beach (it was a pay-beach) back at the hotel (luckily, Shine, one of the Chinese teachers happened to have exactly enough money with her) and the guards there kept trying to insist that they needed identification from each of us in order to go.  After about ten minutes of playing the "No, you don't" "Yes, we do" game with a few of the teachers (I was busy amusing forty-odd impatient girls back on one of the buses), the guards finally relented and we were able to proceed.  That's one of the things I've found about China:  You often have to accomplish things in difficult, odd, or roundabout ways and they usually take seven times as long to happen (we call it the "Rule of Seven"), but eventually, things always somehow work out.

We had a blast at the beach.  We started with a game called "Butt Wars" where to people try to knock each other down using only their butts as weapons.  I joined in, partnered with one of my history students.  We had a stalemate: neither of us could knock the other down!  After that game, we played something even more violent:  "Kick the Bucket".  In that game, the seniors had to guard a bucket while ALL of the other girls tried to rush in and kick it over.  If a senior tagged any girl on the back with both hands (or if another girl got a senior), that person was out.  We played three times, each time involving a lot of grabbing and a lot of girls on the ground.  No injuries, though!  Well, no human injuries:  the bucket died.

The next (and probably most violent) game was "Steal the Bacon", in which we divided 86 girls (one had gotten sick shortly after we arrived, so a teacher stayed behind at the hotel with her) into two teams, which stood about thirty feet apart, facing one another.  In the middle were two black rubber tubes (the kind that go inside of tires).  Each girl had a number, and when we called out numbers, those girls had to run and fight to drag the tubes over to their line in order to score a point (one point per tube).  This game was hilarious to watch!  During one round, one girl decided to pull the legs of another out from under her; then, she and her teammate carried both the girl AND the tube over to their side!  In another round, a rather quiet, shy, and timid sophomore (who is also a new student this year) managed to steal a tube while the other girls were fighting over the other one.  She made it all the way to her side, unchallenged!  She was as shocked as anyone, and began jumping up and down shouting, "I did it!  I got it!"  I was so thrilled to see her accomplish that; I absolutely adore that girl (if I were allowed to have favorites, she would make the ever-growing list).

After that game, we encouraged our absolutely filthy, sand-covered and sweaty girls to go swimming in the very welcoming ocean.  I meant to just go wading right then (I had my bathing suit on under my clothes, so I was planning to go swimming later), but then I overheard a few girls discussing the merits of throwing Ms. Thompson in the water, so I decided to just dive in and get thoroughly wet (Nitta, our awesome high school principal, made the same decision based on overhearing a similar discussion).  A few girls who decided to splash me were promptly dealt with, and then I went wave-jumping with the girls, which made them all very happy.  They really love doing things with teachers (I'm still in shock over this)!

After swimming with them for a while, I went to join some of my freshies for a walk on the beach.  I happened to find a sea urchin, which sparked a Teachable Moment.  I showed it to the girls, who had never seen one before.  Before I knew it, I was teaching about sea shells, sea creatures, and ocean ecology to a group of about ten fascinated freshmen!  We found some more urchins, several other types of shells in various pretty colors, and even a few jellyfish.  I explained how to properly clean the shells that they wanted to keep, so hopefully no parents have to suffer any nasty smells this weekend.

When we got back to join the group, it was time for devouring all those luscious watermelons, building sand castles, more swimming, more "Steal the Bacon", and lots of talking.  It was, in short, the perfect day at the beach.  Despite the large group of girls, we had only two injuries, both minor:  a skinned leg and a cut foot.  Neither of them were on me.

We did showers and then dinner once we got back to the hotel, followed by praise songs.  Nothing is quite as awesome as all those happy teenagers singing and dancing with enormous smiles.  Our guidance counselor Amy did a talk on emotional wellness followed by a journaling activity, and then we had a Casino Night-style game night for the girls.  Kathryn and I taught some of the girls how to play Spoons, which was a major hit (definitely the most popular game of the night).  At 10:30 pm, all girls, except seniors (they got to stay up as late as they wanted), were to be in their rooms, and we teachers did our rounds of room checks.  I had the whole tenth floor in my jurisdiction, which meant about 13 juniors.

The only dark spot of the weekend (well, I actually do find it amusing now) was the disappearance of all but three of the juniors from my floor.  One girl informed me that the seniors had collected them.  I immediately went downstairs to find help, where I learned from Kelly, one of our Chinese staff, that she also had missing junior.  Together, we split up to look for them.  About half an hour later, we located the reprobates, who had gone back to the proper floor while we were searching for them.  I then sternly sent them all to bed.

Today, we enjoyed a fantastic (and enormous) breakfast, followed by some more praise songs.  After that, I gave my little talk about relational fitness.  I had decided to talk about toxic friends.  Using student volunteers to act out the parts (which they were great at!), I described six types of toxic friends: leaches, ditchers, excluders, users, backstabbers, and teasers.  I then explained the harm that each can do, and how to handle them appropriately.  For my activity, I had a game that the girls really enjoyed.  Once I had finished, we awarded the prizes for the four winning groups and the two girls who were teacher-selected MVPs.  We then concluded with a wrap-up activity in which each team of girls had to find some way of presenting all that we had talked about regarding fitness.  The girls had about an hour, and then they wowed us.  We saw well-drawn posters, side-splitting skits, a super cute song, and obvious evidence that the girls had put thought into their work.  We were quite proud of our girls as we dismissed for lunch!

We left right after lunch.  Girls were divided according to where they lived, and I wound up being the only teacher on my bus!  I reminded the girls to pay close attention as we drove, because we were about to experience one of the neatest parts of our little retreat:  We crossed the longest bridge in the world!  The views of the Yellow Sea and the mountains were beautiful.  After we had crossed into Qingdao, it was apparently time for a new game called "Photograph Ms. Thompson".  I have no idea what sparked it, but most of the girls on the bus suddenly wanted me to repeatedly pose for them.  A gaggle of the girls also informed me that I have the nicest teeth (I'll have to thank my childhood dentist and orthodontist when I'm next in the States for a visit).  The things they compliment about!

Although it was the most fun two days in recent memory, I was nevertheless happy to arrive home to my spotless apartment (courtesy of Ayi, who came in to clean on Thursday), where I soon had an unpleasant migraine to deal with.  Fortunately, it was of short duration.  The day concluded with spaghetti and a movie with the roomie, who just returned from Middle School Fall Camp.

Gosh, I really do SUFFER living here in China!