TheBanyanTree: Transition 11

[Pat M]

*It is early January 2008 and I have moved from Lintong to Sanya, China's
Hawaii where I will holiday for a month and then teach for 3 months.
Finally, I can get back to my writing.  There is so much to tell...*

Transition 11

It was early November and Alice and I sat in a pizza restaurant in Xian.
Close to six weeks had passed since I'd eaten anything familiar, and the
bacon and pineapple pizza in front of me was as good as any at home; I was
really enjoying it. A steaming pot of fruit tea with mandarin orange
segments, chopped apples and pears on the table between us perfumed the air
with the scent of citrus. I had been waiting for an opportunity to speak
with Alice about Amy and Mrs. Zhang who are 'on duty' 24/7, paid a pitiful
wage and given no days off. The moment had finally arrived.

I made eye contact with Alice. "You are very good to me," I said, "and I
really appreciate it." I paused and took a sip of my tea as I tried to find
the words to express my feelings in a diplomatic, non-confrontational way.
"But you don't treat Amy and Mrs. Zhang the same as you treat me. I am no
better than them; we are the same."

Alice said nothing.

"The school is very cold, so cold that I don't want to be there unless I
have to, yet Amy and Mrs. Zhang must live there with no heat. I don't think
you realize how much that upsets me. I can turn on the air conditioner for a
little heat, but they have nothing." Truth was that I hadn't been able to
turn on the heat in my apartment. Every time my fingers sought the switch, I
thought of my friends shivering at the college and turned away. It didn't
seem right that I had the option of being warm and my friends didn't.

Again, Alice remained silent.

"I'd like to buy Amy and Mrs. Zhang electric heaters but I need to know
you'll let them use them," I said, watching Alice closely. She could veto
their use because of the increase to the college's electricity bill. I
secretly hoped my offer would shame her into taking action herself, but if
she didn't I was prepared to follow through with what I said.

Alice's eyes widened. "No, no, no!" she sputtered, seemingly shocked at my
suggestion. She struggled to find the English words to express herself.
"Don't do it."

"I don't mind paying for the heaters," I said. "but I must know they can use
them."

"No," she said. "If they are warm they won't want to go outside to do
anything."

I glanced out the window at a sunny fall day.

"Well, it's warmed up again and it isn't urgent right now, but it will soon
get cold again. They need heat," I said firmly.

"Not now."

"Later then?" I queried.

"Yes, the college needs stoves, one for downstairs and one for the third
floor," she said, "but not yet."

"What about their bedrooms?"

"They can have one of those things… I don't know the name. You put them on
the bed and they are warm."

"Oh, you mean electric blankets."

She nodded.

Because the weather was mild again, I was placated but I couldn't help
wondering if she would follow through with what she'd said.

Later Alice took me to the dance club we'd visited before. This time, she'd
arranged for her nephew and two of his friends to meet us there. Alice was
still trying to find me a boyfriend in the hopes that I would stay in
Lintong so I felt self-conscious around our companions. We sat on sofas in
the dark basement room, sipped green tea and watched the dancers for awhile.
The men smoked. (Nearly every man smokes here.) Then we got up to dance.
Alice and I were really into the music and soon a circle of men surrounded
us and began clapping in time with it. I had been starved for some fun and
didn't care that I was being watched; I let loose.

The club closed at 5 pm, and Alice had her nephew drive me to the bus
station where I caught the bus back to Lintong and flagged down a cab to my
apartment.

"Wo shi Li Jing Xi Tian Di," I said to the driver before getting in. Because
my pronunciation was so good, he thought I could speak fluent Chinese and
tried to engage me in conversation. "Tim boo duo," I said. (I'm listening
but I don't understand.)

Earlier in the week, I'd become frustrated with my lack of Chinese language
skills and had recruited Mrs. Zhang to teach me how to say my address in
Chinese. I'd been giving her free English lessons so she was happy to be
able to reciprocate. Chinese is a tonal language; the particular pitch at
which a word is pronounced determines its meaning. Because the sounds that
made up my address were unfamiliar, I had to practice saying them many times
before I was able to remember them. I found myself trying to translate the
Chinese words into English letters in my mind but couldn't. This slowed my
progress but I eventually mastered my address.

On the way to my apartment we drove past a large group of women (maybe 60)
doing tai chi on the sidewalk beneath the street lights. Another couple of
blocks and I said, "Homer," which means 'the other entrance' not the main
entrance.

Several small fires lit up the night sky on the pavement outside my
apartment building. Small groups of solemn Chinese watched them burn. I
puzzled over this until the next day when I asked Amy what it meant. She
said that when someone in China dies, mourners burn paper replicas of such
items as passports, currency, cars, houses and food to aid the deceased in
the afterlife. Mourning practices are about honoring and bringing comfort to
the deceased and helping them transition to the spirit realm.
***
-- 
China photos can be viewed at;

http://picasaweb.google.com/home?tab=mq

-- 
China photos can be viewed at;

http://picasaweb.google.com/home?tab=mq