TheBanyanTree: New Year's Eve in China

[Pat M]

 For updated photos see:  http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/Pingguo#
New Year's Eve

December 31st I was surprised to see five luxury cars enter the orphanage's
compound. Three were black sedans with dark-tinted windows, the norm for men
of wealth and power in China, and two were new sports utility vehicles.  What
a contrast to the motorcycle cars and modified tractor trucks used in this
area! What was up?

The previous day, Peter had been in contact with the top official of the
Baise Public Security Bureau (police) to find out how to go about changing
my visa so I could teach. I suspected these men were here to check out the
orphanage and me.

More than a dozen Chinese men exited the vehicles and congregated in the
court yard.  They climbed to the orphanage's second floor where I greeted
them on the walkway outside the girl's dorm. Immediately, a man with a
camera started to snap pictures and another began to video-tape. Only two of
the men could speak any English at all. One of them, who seemed to be in
charge, introduced me to the other English speaker and was able to
communicate enough to tell me the man worked at Guangxi University and had
his PhD. We shook hands. The Professor told me in broken English his wife
also worked at the university and her job related to China Canada relations.

Just then Peter and the Principal of the school, a stout, ruddy-faced woman
in her fifties, arrived and greeted the men.

Peter said, "They are from the Department of Education."

I nodded and smiled. "Ahhh."

My Chinese is improving; I could pick out a few words of the conversation
between Peter, the Principal and the officials and understood when one man
asked the Principal if I was teaching English at the school.  My eyes locked
with the Principal's. She said, "Bu shi (not yes)."  (The Chinese have a
very indirect communication style. They do not have a word that equates to
'no'.)

At the Principal's request, several weeks earlier, I had taught two classes
(for free) and then told her I didn't want to teach illegally. At that
moment, I was very glad of my decision. Had I been teaching at the school
without the right visa, I could have been asked to leave the country.

The group wanted to see the dormitory and stepped inside for a quick look.
The man in charge examined the drawings (gifts from the children) that
decorated my door. He said something and Peter translated, "He wants you to
stand there (next to the door) and say something about the orphanage."

I was videotaped as I said, "I am very impressed with Wesley's House. The
children are happy and the workers are kind."

Peter translated my words into Chinese. The man in charge and several other
officials stood next to me to have their photo taken with me. Afterwards,
each of the men shook my hand as they filed out of the dormitory.

One man lingered. He said many words before he shook my hand and then he
bowed several times.

"He is the top official from Pingguo," Peter said. "He wants to thank you
very much for helping the orphans."

"It's my pleasure," I said, and smiled.

I heard "Happy New Year," in stilted English as the two English speakers
exited the dormitory. From their smiles, I got the impression they had
practiced saying it before arriving.

I replied in Chinese, "Same to you!"

When everyone had left, Jessica, who has an aversion to having her photo
taken, appeared in the dorm. She must have been hiding in the bathroom.

"Wow! So many of them! Do you know why they're here?" I asked her.

She shook her head.

Just then, she heard someone calling her from downstairs and with a bounce
and a wave, she trotted off.  A few minutes later the Principal came looking
for me, gesturing that I should follow her. (She speaks no English.)

She led me to the dining room and when I entered, applause erupted from the
children and government officials.  I saw that the room had been rearranged
so the tables (actually old school desks) formed a large rectangle. Apples,
Chinese pears (not the same as any pear I've seen in the West), candies and
packages of cookies covered them. I was asked to sit at the front next to
Peter and the visitors. The officials made a few short speeches before the
man in charge singled out some children and asked them to stand up and say
something about the orphanage. Then, he presented the Principal with an
envelope containing 3000 yuan for the children.

We went outside so a group photo could be taken. Afterwards, our visitors
lingered in the courtyard. Before they left, several came over to shake my
hand again. The top official from Pingguo returned to me not once but three
times. Each time he shook my hand, thanked me and bowed. Peter translated
that he welcomed me to Pingguo and invited me to his office for tea.
Finally, he got into one of the cars. As I watched the procession of
expensive vehicles creep toward the gate, I quipped, "I think he likes me."


"Auntie!" Jessica chided.

Peter chuckled.

I paused, suddenly serious.

"So, what was that all about? Was it because I want the government to change
my visa?"

"No, no," Peter said. "It is because the local government is supposed to
provide money for the orphans and they didn't.  Some of the men were from
Baise (another city) and they were investigating."

Maybe so, but I believed there was more to it. Why so many men?  Why was I
videotaped?

January 1, New Year's Day in the West, is also a holiday in China and this
year it fell on a Thursday. The school week was rearranged so the children
had Thursday, Friday and Saturday off and returned to school on Sunday.
Because of the 3-day holiday many of the children's relatives arrived later
that afternoon to take them for the weekend. By suppertime, only 22 children
remained at the orphanage.

Auntie Hua made a special meal of baozi (pronounced bow dza)—large dumplings
with fillings. There was no meat on site so she cut up ... you guessed
it....cabbage...and mixed it with chives as one of the fillings. She also
made some baozi with brown sugar I gave her.

Alex told me the children planned to watch TV for the evening. My bedroom is
usually out of bounds and no one enters except by invitation. A few girls
remained in the dormitory and I allowed them in to look at my online photo
album. It was New Year's Eve after all.

Boom! Boom! Rat tat tat tat. Fireworks!  We jumped up and ran outside where
we saw some children with sparklers running around the courtyard below.  In
the darkness, I could make out Auntie Hua's tall figure handing them out to
the children. Chen Bing was detonating some small fireworks.  The girls
grabbed my hand and pulled me downstairs to join the others. What joy those
few sparklers gave the children.  When they were gone, the children didn't
seem to know what to do.

I was standing with Doris when a boy walked past and said something to her.
"What did he say?" I asked.

"He would like to listen to music but boys aren't allowed in the girls'
dormitory."

(I often lend my CD player and Chinese pop CDs to the girls.)

"Some of the children are feeling sad because their relatives haven't come
for them," she added.

I had a brilliant idea and hurried upstairs where I retrieved my CD player,
extension cord and CDs.

A heavy chain and huge padlock ensured no one could enter the dining room
and kitchen to get to our precious food cache. (If it were up to me, I'd put
a 'Free cabbage, Come and Get It!' sign out on the road.)  One of the
children ran for Chen Bing who came to unlock it for us.

I was finally over my cough which had me listless and miserable for two
weeks, and I felt happy and energetic again... and a little silly. I put on
the music, turned up the volume and grabbed one of the little girls. I began
to waltz with her, twirling her every few steps. I kept changing partners.
Some of the little boys pretended they didn't want to dance but when I took
hold of their hands and guided them around the room, they were laughing and
it was obvious they loved the attention.  When I grabbed Chen Bing, everyone
howled at my silly antics, especially Chen Bing! All of the children in the
dining room were having too much fun to miss their relatives but not every
child at the orphanage joined us.

When I finally got tired, I went outside for some fresh air and saw little
Ella standing in the shadows crying.

I went over to her and stroked her cheek before taking hold of her hand.

"What's wrong?" I asked Jessica, who happened to be passing by.

"She misses her mother."

I remembered what Peter had told me. Ella's father died last year and her
mother is mentally ill and unable to care for her—poor little girl. I led
Ella to my room where I booted up my computer and showed her some of my
photos. She was very interested in them, especially when she saw photos of
herself, and it wasn't long before she forgot she was sad. After awhile she
left to go play with the other children.

We stayed up later than usual but went to bed well before midnight. When I
made my 'hug' rounds, Ella held me even longer than usual. Of all the girls
in the dorm, she is the one who most needs my affection and hugs.  Nearly
every night, I eventually have to peel her off me so I can go on to the next
girl. If it were up to Ella, she would stay in my arms and fall asleep
there. Jenna, her bed partner (most of the girls sleep two to a bed) is
another who doesn't want my hugs to end.

Sometimes I feel I don't contribute enough at the orphanage, especially
because I've been sick so often, but when I can be there for a child who
needs a hug, I feel I have really done something worthwhile.
****