The American Team: or when Anne, Nick, Ben and Yue get to pretend they are super 厉害（lihai)

(For those of you who don't know, lihai sort of means really amazing or awesome at something. Basically it doesn't have a really good English translation, which is why I used it.)

So we heard there was a large martial arts event being held at a High School in Taigu. It was for a special kind of marital arts, similar to Taiqi that had been started in Taigu. (I believe it is called Xingyi quan.) Ben, Nick, Yue (my Chinese teacher and new friend), and I all decided to go see the opening ceremony.

At the gate to the field, everybody was crowded and pushing and nobody was being let in. But the moment the guards saw Ben and Nick’s face, they asked what country they were from. “America” they responded, to which the guards let them in and pointed to a side of the field. Yue (my Chinese teacher and new friend) and I quickly yelled that we were with them, and with my foreign-looking face and Yue locked on my arm, we made it in too. The organizers pointed us to a series of High-school aged girls dressed in pink, sparkly short dresses holding signs with names of countries and Chinese provinces on them. We were pushed behind the United States sign. Ben and Nick were smiling, Yue and I were horrified. They thought we were participants! We got to march around the stadium representing “The American Team.” Yue hoped that no one who knew her was in the audience, I reassured her that she spoke English well enough to be an ABC (which was true) so she might as well march with us. It was entertaining, until we had to stand in front of the bleachers and listen to 5 officials give speeches about the significance of the event. Then things got exciting again as the fireworks went off, hundreds of students did a large performance on the field and the competitions began.

It was fun, for sure, but it felt really strange to have the doors wide open to us just because of the faces we were born with, when the people who grew up in the city were not allowed into this exciting event unless they had special invitation. I wanted to take the almost one hundred patient, ordinary Taigu people standing with their faces pressed against the fence and tell the guards they were American so they could also use the strange backseat passes our faces allowed us.

Adventure Run #1

When I am in a new place I feel that part of my way of figuring out where I am is to get lost in it. Running is usually my mode of transportation.

So one morning before my classes, instead of my usual route around the border of the campus, I decided to step outside the walls. (The entire University--like almost every other school in China, from Elementary school to University—is surrounded by a large cement wall). I could just feel the excitement under my feet as I headed out of the gates under the curious stares from the guards, the taxi cab drivers waiting at the gate and every other person who walked or biked along the dirt road that went by the entrance. I headed around the wall, followed it a ways just to see where it went, found how to get to North Yard (the small neighborhood full of restaurants and shops right next to the university) without going through the gates, ran along through the corn fields, past stares from farmers and bikers and the large group of people constructing a house. I ended up on a main road that I hoped headed back towards the campus, but as I followed it, I realized that the tall apartment buildings where the teachers stayed were sinking further and further to my left. I realized that the train tracks on the bridge above the road were headed in the right directions so I ran up some stone steps built into the wall and ended up on a small path running next to the railroad. I followed the path for a ways and was pleasantly surprised by how alone I was, until a train went by and got some good stares from at least a hundred Chinese people. Suddenly Nong Da was again moving slowly to the left as I ran and I had to find a way down. The tracks took another overpass over a road that I knew was really close to the entrance, but there were no convenient steps this time. I followed the top of a cement wall that led down from an overpass, got barked at by a small dog that came up to my mid-shins and only got one surprised stare from a woman who happened to be looking up from her bicycle as I was walking down. I made it back safe, tired, contented and extremely excited that I had finally been comfortable and brave enough to have had a run by myself outside the walls in Taigu. I realized that I didn't have to go very far outside of campus to find a little adventure.

Terror set in though when Zhao Hong, the teacher in charge of us foreign teachers here gave me a call soon after I came back. “I need to see you in my office” was the approximate translation of what she said. Oh no, I thought, someone who saw me on the train or the lady who was on the bike knew her, or maybe the guards mentioned that I had been outside the gate running for almost an hour. I was in trouble. I went into her office and she began, “Anne, there are certain traditions in China revolving around teachers...” Alright, I thought, preparing myself to be yelled at, here comes the explanation of why teachers are not allowed to be out running all over the countryside. “...and one of them is Teachers Day. Here’s your bonus.” She handed me 200 yuan. I must have looked a little stunned because she reassured me, “Take it. All the teachers receive the same amount.” I couldn’t believe how well the morning was going. I thanked her and left to finish getting ready for my first class.

Yelling English, Military Training and Losing Weight

Today was really cold for the first time. It was raining this morning and instead of getting warmer as the day went on, it got colder. By the evening it was cold enough that I was wearing a scarf and 3 shirts when going outside. (It wasn’t actually that cold--I’ve just been spoiled with nice weather.) Outside, “Crazy English” (as I discovered the groups practicing English by yelling every night are called) continued to go on in spite of the cold. Only this time, the students were all dressed in camouflage military uniform. To a person who wasn’t familiar with the Universities in China, it was pretty intimidating looking—a large group of young people dressed in military uniform repeating loudly after a single leader: “If!” “IF!” “I!” “I!” “were!” “were!” “WERE!” “WERE!!”....
But to those of us who now knew how things worked, we saw that the entire group, based on their military uniforms, was made of freshmen who had just arrived at the University. All the freshmen were required to have a week of military training before starting school. So we would see them all for a week or so, all dressed in their camouflage uniforms, starting from early in the morning yelling chants, marching in time, and sitting on little stools listening to some speaker yell something through a loudspeaker in Chinese. Even at 10pm they were all walking around in their military clothing. Most of them are a fair amount smaller than I, but that didn’t stop me from being spooked when I went around a dark corner and a person dressed in camouflage comes striding around the bend. I had to remind myself that they were the same students who when I was running in the morning, parted a path for me, called out a timid, Hello? and then whose faces broke into big, smiles and laughter when I smiled and said hi to them. They all looked really young and quite in wonder at everything, including the exotic foreigner running by them.
Later tonight at the underground supermarket I ran into one of my English majors. Another side of these young people’s lives was exposed when I asked her about what she was up to tonight. The slender girl replied cheerfully that she and her roommates were going running because she needed to lose weight. I almost gagged, but I held it in, “But you are so skinny!” I exclaimed instead. “Maybe in your eyes” she said with a smile, looking my body up and down, “but in Chinese people’s eyes, I am fat.” Oh, I thought, well in that case, I am obese by Chinese standards. But I said nothing, smiled and listened to her finish talking about running being good for losing weight. I was happy when she changed the subject to the upcoming vacation.
I have realized that everyone thinks I’m running because I want to lose weight. It seems like the idea of running for fun is quite foreign here. Just like me and my body type.

Chinese Dog Culture

Even the stray dogs here have a different culture. Instead of the solitary, tough street dogs of the cities in the U.S., these dogs have a different way of survival. If they see you and you say something to them or stop, they stop for a moment and check you out. The cute dogs know their positive adaptations and they will sit down, tilt their head and give you puppy eyes. I have gone up to many the (somewhat clean looking) puppy, put my hand near them and they lick it, and then let me rub their neck for a bit. I know the warnings about rabies, but these dogs have no signs of aggression. They sit down when you come close, or grovel with a tail between their legs. They are not ashamed to take handouts. They know that the way to get good food around here is to look cute. And most of them do it really well.

Curiosity Terrified the Teacher

So I was curious, as most people are, about large gatherings of people. Mistake number one. I was also curious, as English speakers might be, about why they were yelling English. Mistake number two. I was also curious if I could manage to stay behind everyone and pretend to be a Chinese student without being noticed. Mistake number three. It took maybe a minute for someone to come around, pass me a flyer and then gawk at my face as I tried to avert my eyes. (You know the normal if I can’t see them, they can’t see me approach.) In a moment, 3 people jumped by my side and asked if I was a foreign teacher, while a circle of students pulled out of the mob and surrounded me. I knew I was done for. Question after question came out of the students (and one student in particular who seemed more interested in practicing speaking than practicing listening.) And I awkwardly answered one after the other with a word or two. At one point the young man who was doing most of the talking (a very gutsy, and skilled freshman) asked me if I had some words of advice to give everyone, and I semi-unconsciously said “wo mei zhunbei hao le” (I haven’t prepared well.) And everyone laughed. That lightened things a little.
It is just terrifying when you are suddenly in the midst of the kind of people who idealize you. (And by idealize you I mean they idealize English-speaking foreigners, and you are one of them.) You are the holder of this thing they are trying to attain. It’s terrifying. You have all these eyes on you and ears listening to every word you say like it may be the gospel. I felt like I wanted to shrink into myself. “Surely you have taught many people...” the young man was saying. Did he even know that I was only a few years older than him? That I had just graduated from university? That I had only been here three weeks? Well, that he knew, because I had just told him, but that didn’t seem to register. I was sure I must have looked terrified. But one of the young women was nice enough to tell me that I was very charming, that I had a very charming smile. Oh that’s good. At least I look like a nice person even if I had only been able to get out the total of two sentences worth of words.
A couple of my Graduate students passed by, and I grabbed a desperate hello at their blessed familiar faces. They asked what I was doing. I wanted to know too, but instead I told them I had never seen such a group of people and came to see what was going on. They smiled and said they had been walking along and had also been interested by the groups, they had never seen it before either. They told me it looked like I was quite the interest here (well, that in simpler words), and all I could do was nod helplessly. They took their leave politely and with smiles. I wished it was so easy for me.
Soon enough I realized that it actually was that easy for me too. I apologized to the circle of stares and told them I had to go because I had class tomorrow morning. They smiled and nodded enthusiastically, yes of course. All I had to give them was my name, a brief excuse that I had just gotten here as reason why I couldn’t give them my address, and smile politely and leave. It was just as simple a trap to get out of as to get in.
Classrooms are fine for staring at the teacher. That I'm used to. In everyday life, groups of people you've never met watching your every movement can be quite intimidating. I cannot tell you how relieved I felt to slide into the shadows again.

Stranger in a Strange Land

It struck me last night walking in the cool moonlight how amazing it is for me to be where I am. A dream really.

Sometimes, I look at night at the pink, green dancing neon signs saying “Shanxi Agricultural University” and wonder where I am. The smoke coming from the nearby building turns purple in its strange light and the illumination from the almost full moon. With these strange tall buildings radiating light and colored smoke and the moonlight making even the darkest buildings look sharp and clear and full of geometric shapes, I wonder if this China I’m standing in is fake. At other times, the fountains turn on and loudspeakers blast Kenny G or the latest Chinese pop song, and the water dances up and down to the music, and I wonder if they are trying to make China fake.
And then sometimes, I see the quiet corner of a restaurant sharply illuminated in the moonlight, strange geometric shadows making the dirty scene look strangely neat and tidily drawn, and I wonder if I am in a museum. And then, walking along in the dark, I see a young girl sitting on a young man’s lap, the tree shadows carefully covering the places in their face their mouths would be, and I wonder if I am in Oakland, California again.

But sometimes, walking along a dirt road, hearing the quiet sounds of friends giggling and speaking Mandarin together, walking arm in arm, watching others hurry off to their dorms for the evening, with the feeling of a light autumn wind brushing my face and the moonlight illuminating my path, and I remember where I am and I am awed.

Mooncakes!

The Mid-Autumn Festival is this Sunday, which means that I have been stalking up on mooncakes in hopes of distracting myself from the topic of the festival—home. For everyone who cannot be at home for the festival (and that is a lot of people in China), the festival is about remembering and missing the people you love who are far away. There are a ton of famous poets who have written famous poems about missing family for this holiday. (I have yet to see a poem that is about being with your family and enjoying it. It seems as though all these poets were quite the travelers.) All I can think of all this is that I don’t need a holiday to remember this...
But I do love mooncakes, whether it is the Mid-Autumn Festival or not. I already tried like 4 different flavors in search of a Red Bean one. (I still haven’t quite figured out how to read the ingredient characters yet.) One of the cakes I had no idea what flavor it was, even after I tried a bite. Nor did the Chinese person who tried a piece. I think it was like an everything mooncake. There were peanuts and rose flavor and some other strange things...it was like the fruitcake of mooncakes. But not bad tasting. I could get used to Chinese style fruitcake.

Privilege

I am really struggling with this sense of privilege here that is sometimes quite overwhelming. I’ve always been seen as a pretty average in America. It’s been difficult to stand out as much as I do here in Taigu. I think it is as close as I will ever come to celebrity status—everyone knows our faces, our names, watches our every move, wants our patronage, wants to visit us and ask us about our everyday lives. And we live in these houses that are so much nicer than those of the average teacher here, and have our own bathroom, a kitchen and shower (with water pressure that does not turn off at 11pm like in the dorms). Moreover, everyone knows we are young, but have enough money to come visit here, have enough privilege to come visit their country with nothing more than a VISA (when it is nearly impossible for them to visit America), and that we get paid a lot compared to the average Chinese wages.
It takes a good conversation with a Chinese student to remind me that I am human too. But sometimes even then I realize that I have been born into speaking the international language that they will always struggle to speak smoothly. I much prefer speaking Mandarin with Chinese friends here. It reminds me that I will always struggle with some things. :)

Conditions of Living

In general I have no complaints about our living conditions. We live really well considering the place. But sometimes the water pressure goes out. And that’s all fine and well for an hour or so here or there. But 6 hours like it was yesterday was too much. Especially when you have stomach problems from dinner the night before and end up having to run to the bathroom in the closest classroom building. The food here is good, but often a gamble as to its cleanliness. mmm. yeah, you know what I mean.

Not quite a celebrity

Yesterday, I went to eat by myself at a noodle place. So I was wearing glasses (which seems to hide my eyes enough to deceive people at least at first glance that I am Chinese) and this middle-aged couple and college age son sat down next to me. The server who had seated them next to me seemed completely comfortable with who I was. (I’m pretty sure she’d seen me come enough with the foreigners that she knew what category I fell into). But the couple wasn’t so sure. I reassured them in Chinese that they could sit next to me after the mother asked. I ordered my dishes in Chinese, and the couple still seemed uncertain. The woman kept staring at the side of my face when I turned to look at some paperwork I had brought. I wanted to laugh, but decided to hide it. She clearly wanted to ask where I was from, but didn’t know how to say it. The son was clearly a new student because he didn’t know where the chopsticks were in the restaurant. I showed him and explained in Chinese. She took a good stare at my face every time I looked at my bowl of noodles. I decided I’d rather not explain this time, so I kept quiet, and they seemed busy enough slurping up their noodles. I wondered what they would say about me once they got out of my ear-range.
It’s entertaining to be on that border of people’s perceptions of Foreigners and strange-looking Chinese.

Sometimes I forget about being an obvious foreigner until I join up with Ben, Beth, or Nick, because their light hair and complexion elicits an English phrase from every passerby.

Fast Food meets Taigu

Ben and Alex discovered a new restaurant. It’s called Manhattan and it’s like a KFC/McDonalds fake. I’ve never seen everyone so excited about a restaurant here. (There’s not even a McDonalds or KFC in downtown Taigu.) We all went there today. I was still stomach sick from some strange food a day or two before, so I didn’t order much of anything, but it sure looked like American food to me. Beth said it stuck to your ribs like American food too. The moment we walked in, the people working at the counter got really excited. “Welcome!” one of the young ladies proclaimed proudly in English. (I believe the pride was in her ability to remember the English word, not necissarily out of pride for the restaurant.) We all laughed at the strangeness of it. They didn’t have beef this day, but they did have the fried chicken, which looked pretty authentic. (hah. authentic, who ever thought I’d use that word to describe fast food?) The entire time we were eating we laughed about the irony of it—of these imported people eating this imported-style food. And the fact that if we kept eating here we would actually become fat Americans. They came up to us after we had finished eating and told us to come there tomorrow again for a free meal. Free meal? We were celebrities. It felt really strange and uncomfortable to me. But like Ben explained to me, it was easy to live like a rockstar in Taigu (he, for example, had an amazing sound system and an electric guitar). Easy, if you were a privileged foreigner. Especially because you wore your ID on your face everywhere you went. Everybody wanted your business.