TheBanyanTree: Return to China - Part 12

[Pat M]

Check for updated photos at
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/Pingguo#


Dec 6

Yes, life is so simple here, yet also so full.  I don't know where the time
goes but I am never bored and often wish I had more time to write.

This morning I enjoyed a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and soya milk.
Interesting how something so mundane at home is one of the highlights of my
week. Peter's friend in Nanning (2 hrs away by bus) purchased a microwave
oven for me at Wal-Mart for the equivalent of $70 and shipped it to me by
bus. Now, I can make food for myself when I can't tolerate what's served in
the dining room. But there's another hurdle. I have to get to town to buy
groceries, and that is a challenge in itself.

The selection of food is also very limited. Occasionally the children
present me with a baked tuber that I've now identified as taro. It's very
starchy and I don't enjoy it enough to buy it for myself.  There's cabbage,
carrots, potatoes and onions for sale in the market. As well, there are many
unfamiliar vegetables and leafy greens that I'm reluctant to try. I'd like
some butternut squash, asparagus or beets and all the ingredients to make a
green salad. I would enjoy some yogurt, cheese (there's none for sale in
Pingguo even if I wanted to take the risk) and cow's milk, but I'm too
afraid to eat dairy products because of the melamine scare.  A tin of
Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup would be sheer bliss, but I can only
dream.

After speaking with Peter, I returned the preserved eggs to Grandpa with a
polite, "No thank you" in Chinese. That same evening, I was eating dinner
with some of my little girls when Grandpa brought in a bowl containing the
two eggs out-of-the-shell and cut in half. They were sitting in vinegar, and
he held the bowl in front of me until I used my chopsticks to break off a
tiny bit of the brown jelly-like egg white. I popped it into my mouth but as
soon as he turned away, I discreetly spat it out. When he was far enough
away, I whispered conspiratorially to the girls, "Bu haochi (It doesn't
taste good)."

Later Grandpa came by again and chatted with me in Chinese. It is strange
how people talk to me in Chinese when they know I don't understand, but it
happens often. Peter happened to be walking by and translated. "Grandpa is
asking if you like the pig's ears," he said. I realized then what the
strange gristly bits were in my bowl.

Last week, I had agreed to teach two English classes at the on site
elementary school. The day before my first lesson, Peter came to my room to
tell me he'd called the police to ask them how to go about changing my visa
so I could stay and work in China for a year.  (At present, I have a tourist
visa which allows me to visit for 90 days.)  They told him it wasn't
possible to change it from a tourist visa to a working visa. They also said
it was against the law for me to teach in the school without the correct
visa and informed him that the school here does not have a licence to employ
foreign teachers. Based on that, I taught the two scheduled days and then
had Alex tell the principal I would not continue.

I have started to work on improving my spoken Chinese and am currently
studying classroom language with Jessica and Alex. The children get so
excited during class and shout out the answers, and I need to be able to
maintain better control.  I write down phrases (in English) I want to learn
and they write down the Pinyin for me and model the pronunciation. Chinese
is difficult because there are several sounds that do not translate into
English and the language is tonal. Often, I don't even hear the differences
between the tones so it is hit and miss whether I'll get the pronunciation
right. In return, I teach them English. The children are a big help. They
correct me, and enjoy teaching 'the teacher.'

Yesterday I bought 10 kilograms of tofu so everyone could have a good-sized
portion for dinner. I had Peter accompany me to the kitchen to speak with
Chen Bing. Even though I said several times that I wanted all of the tofu to
be used for one meal and asked that it be fried rather than put in with the
boiled cabbage, it didn't happen.  Chen Bing fried several slices for me and
put only a little in with the boiled cabbage for the children. In future,
I'll have to cook it myself I guess.

Lately, my head has been itchy and I hope I'm not hosting any unwelcome
guests. I hadn't realized lice were a problem until I happened to walk into
the dorm when Jessica was going through one of the girl's hair and picking
out the nits. Only a few of the children here have lice, unlike Guatemala
where I volunteered in 2004 and 2005. There, all of the children had them
and it was impossible to get rid of them. When I spoke with Peter he told me
that he has searched Pingguo extensively but has been unable to find a
product to kill head lice. He said the villagers make their own concoction
and don't need to buy it, so it isn't stocked here. Some of the girls in the
dorm have very short hair because their heads were shaved in an effort to
get rid of the lice.

Talking about head lice doesn't give me the creeps like it used to. I've
come a long way. Before I went to Guatemala in 2004, just the thought of
insects in my hair nearly made me hysterical. In Guatemala, I stepped well
past my comfort zone to routinely shampoo the children's hair with lice
shampoo. Now, getting head lice would be no more than a minor inconvenience
for me that would be resolved by making a trip to Nanning to buy head lice
shampoo.  Interesting how much I've changed...

I have been teaching English every evening but Alex suggested it might be
too much for the middle school students who are bogged down with homework.
In view of that, I changed their classes to two per week. I also made some
modifications to the schedule for the grades 1 through 4 students. They
number 40 and that is too many to have an effective class. Alex and Jessica
separated the children into two groups and provided me with a list.

Sometimes I don't feel very useful here since my lack of Chinese language
skills limits my interaction with the children to teaching them English,
playing with them and giving them hugs.  I tried to help with the daily
chores such as preparing the vegetables for meals but it didn't work very
well. I am unable to sit on my haunches to wash the vegetables in the ditch
and when I tried to help by cutting up the cabbage with a cleaver, I was
much too slow and the cook took the knife from my hand and took over.  After
that happened a few times, I stopped offering my help.  I am also unable to
assist the children with their homework.

But I am good at one thing and it is something the children need and want.  I
am good at giving hugs and love. At night the little girls cling to me and
don't want to let go of me. There are only two of the twenty-five in the
dorm who maintain their distance, and I feel certain that as time passes
they will come to realize they can trust me and will come to me like the
others do.

***