Updates and whatnot

I have not written in a long time. I am sure that everyone is just as preoccupied with their own lives as I am, so I’m sure the stories weren’t missed too much. Here are the updates:

-Health: Our illnesses come and go. We’re keeping a close eye on this sore throat I have now. It feels as if somebody took a rasp to it when I wasn’t paying attention.

- Teaching: Last Wednesday and Thursday was Sports Day here at the school. There were no classes and all the kids participated in relays, individual races, field events, and basketball. In the evenings were performances of dancing and singing. Our two senior classes were, by far, the worst performers. One class monotonously chanted a Chinese poem in unison, while atrocious nursery music played in the background. We felt as if we were trapped within a terribly annoying jewelry box, but without a spinning ballerina to distract us. The other senior class celebrated the intense Chinese adoration for Michael Jackson by singing “We Are the World.” I cannot deny that Michael Jackson was fantastic at what he did, but sitting through this performance, complete with cheesy hand holding and hugging among singers, was simply musical torture. When asked why I was restraining my laughter, I had to admit to another teacher that in America, nobody really cares for this song and it is viewed mostly as a joke.

- Past Weekend: We went to a stranger’s farm and the VP of the school just started picking crops as if the field were hers. Tyler got a chance to water the cabbage, using two large buckets draped from a wooden slat on his shoulders. I passed. Then we went to a cave, in the middle of nowhere, that has been turned into a tourist site for locals. The employees were thrilled when we walked in, making the cave immediately internationally recognized. Like in Yangshuo, we probably could have taken some stalactites home with us. This cave, however, was…enhanced. There were some stalagmites that looked incongruous and when inspected closely, revealed that they were held in place by mortar and cement. There were some “natural” cave waterfalls, but it didn’t feel right to me. The water was rushing much too fast and the rock formations couldn’t have developed in such a way unless there was a slow and steady drip. I stared for a long time, but eventually I saw it. There, sure enough, was a poorly disguised hose. Oh, the Chinese.

- Life/An Anecdote: We’re getting better at living here. We still don’t speak Chinese, but we are getting by alright. We have even become regulars at a local street restaurant that serves us the most delicious barbecued broccoli and fried rice.
Both feeling too poor to cook tonight, we fought the cold and went to eat at our favorite Xao Cao restaurant. The weather had changed so drastically that we were among the only people on the streets. Walking arm in arm, for warmth and for strength, we approached the tarps that were draped to construct a makeshift shelter on the sidewalk, with a food stand and fire pit stove in the center. As always, the owner was happy to see us, since we always ordered plenty and came often. We got our usual and sat down at a table in a far corner.

Not long after this, a boy came over to our table, unexpectedly did a cartwheel, and then extended his hand for money. Being the first occurrence like this to happen to us in our small town, Tyler's innocent mind was bewildered, but my cold heart caught on right away. I told the boy no, but he did not leave. His high pitched voice drew the attention of the owner, who upon noticing the boy, immediately rushed over and started pushing him out. The little boy was whining, stomping, and throwing a true tantrum, but the owner would have none of it. After all, we were his most loyal patrons and we had even presented him with beer and cookies. The moment he got the boy out, another one showed up. Chasing them with a hot skillet, they were driven out; however, the new one was clever and came over to a hole in the tarp by our table. Again, I said no and even motioned for him to scram as the owner made his way over, threatening to flick the boy’s head.

It was no use. He was quiet until the owner walked back to the fire. We tried to ignore him, and when my amiability wavered, I threw my gum towards the hole, as a warning. He again held out his hand for money. The bugger was relentless! After a while, he began beating on the tarp. That was it.

Of course I felt sorry for him. There is no denying the sadness of the poor. It was a pity that a family could be so underprivileged that a son would be forced to panhandle, but no means no. I was sick and broke also. Tyler and I had accepted that we were always to be singled out since we looked different. We are perpetually overcharged in the market, however, about this we could not complain. The people we found there had learned the meaning of truly hard work, with many people missing hands or burdened with the permanent hunch that comes with years of harvesting. They deserved a break. A spontaneous cartwheel earns a smile and a clap. Begging to the point of irritation deserves nothing but maybe a box to the ears. If caught in the right mood, on the right day, I am quite the generous person and have given plenty to homeless folk back home, but I do not hand out money for acting like that.

This boy based his decisions from what he knew of foreigners. All Americans are rich, right? But there was plenty he did not know about foreigners. For instance, maybe we love to eat children fingers with our broccoli. This being said, with a particularly harsh hit on the tarp, I rose from my chair and started his way. Once on the other side of the tarp, I saw him rounding the corner, absently looking back towards the hole, through which he had been pushing his face. When he finally turned his head, his nose was close enough to touch my navel. I flung my arms into the air and roared with the fierceness of ten lions.

He just about soiled his pants, which would have been particularly uncomfortable that cold and rainy night. Women on their stools crowed hysterically all around us. Laughing myself, I returned to my chair and after one verbal assault from him, which I could not understand and refused to acknowledge, we were left alone to enjoy our meal; Tyler pondering over poverty in developing nations, while I tried to remember details from "The Little Match Girl."