October 7, 2007

Dear Friends,

During my time here in China, I have become known as “Teacher Rae” to my 700 students. It was a little odd to be called by my job title at first, but I have long since become used to responding to it. However, I feel I have learned far more from my friends, experiences, and students in China that I have ever taught them. There have been countless moments when I have been given a new perspective into China or Chinese culture through the eyes of the Chinese people. Occasionally, I have been blessed enough to have moments where I feel I have also been a teacher in the sense that I have gone beyond the classroom. I am sometimes lucky in that I help my students to see through the eyes of a foreigner in China. I consider those moments a blessing and a privilege, as I assist others in seeing the world through different eyes. It’s a gift they have so often given me.

During this past week, our school had a vacation due to the Chinese National Day holiday. I decided to visit a student for a few days at her home in Tianshui, which is a city in eastern Gansu, about five hours from my home in Lanzhou. In the day and a half we spent together, each of our perspectives on China became a little broader.

I had wanted to explore the Maiji Mountain Buddhist grottoes, which are located not far from Tianshui. My student happily led me to the mountain. With our tickets, we not only gained access to the grottoes, but also to a garden area evidently owned by a hotel. I was thrilled to explore the area, since Tianshui has a much wetter climate than Lanzhou. The whole area was covered in green, trees and plants cascading everywhere, small creeks, and white misty clouds lying low on the mountains. It was natural and gorgeous; I loved it.

My student and I hiked up and up the concrete path, moving aside several times to allow cars to pass on their way to the top, but otherwise merely taking in the incredible scenery by ourselves. I was almost floating with joy at being in a cool, misty forest again, but my student seemed unnaturally nervous. Finally, she stammered out “Can we go back down?” A few prodding questions revealed that she was jittery about being alone on the path. There were no dangerous animals in the area, there didn’t seem to be any hazards lurking, but she wanted to get back to the steady stream of people as soon as possible. While I was almost ecstatic at finding a place that was so far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city and crowds of humans, she was finding the experience utterly unnerving. It finally struck me: my student wasn't comfortable unless there were other people around her that she could see. I know, intellectually, that most Chinese people want others around them because, in a country of 1.6 billion people, they’re never without them. Yet coming from such an individualistic culture, it took me over two years to truly see the world through their eyes. Until that moment with my student, I couldn’t really comprehend why my students insisted that I must be lonely living by myself. From a worldview in which you and everyone you know are always surrounded by other human beings, the idea of being alone can be terrifying. She opened my eyes to see the world from her perspective.

My student also got a glimpse of what her culture looks like through my eyes. As we came closer to the entrance to the grottoes, there were numerous shouts of “Hello!” “Lao wai!,” and “Wai guo ren!” (those last two both mean “foreigner”). I am so used to this treatment that I either ignored them totally, or responded with “Zhong guo ren,” which means “Chinese person.” There were also several vendors who tried to sell their wares to me by using my poor student as a translator, and were subsequently taken aback when I refused flatly in Chinese. It was all par for the course for me, since with my flaming red hair, green eyes, and pale skin, I've never been able to blend in to a Chinese crowd. As we were leaving Maiji Mountain to head back to Tianshui, however, my student turned to me and asked me if I found Chinese people rude. The constant barrage of people shouting “Hello!” at me, talking about me and my appearance even as I stood right in front of them, and attempting to speak to me through my student had given her a taste of what I go through on a daily basis, and she didn’t like what she had experienced. I reassured her that knowing people like her prevented me from ever thinking that all Chinese people were rude, and made the point that most Chinese folks had never met foreigners before, and therefore weren’t aware that they might be behaving rudely from the foreigner's perspective.

For my student, spending the day with me at Maiji Mountain was certainly an educational experience. She clearly felt uncomfortable about it, and possibly embarrassed too, but I’m sure her knowledge will only enhance her future encounters with people from other cultures. I feel proud that I could be her teacher in that instance, even though the lesson itself was likely painful.

In Matthew 23:8, Jesus states “But you, do not be called ‘Rabbi,’ for One is your Teacher, the Christ, and you are all brethren.” My students may call me “Teacher Rae,” but they have been my teachers more often than not. Whether they recognize it or not, being children of God, we are brothers and sisters. The piece of God that is in each of them continues to teach me, and as their sister, I am called to teach them as well as I can with the gifts that God has given me. Christ has taught me, and so I look for more lessons from my Teacher, delivered through the brethren that surround me. I am grateful that Christ opened my eyes and the eyes of my student a little broader during this Tianshui trip, so that we might see more of the world through a broader perspective. May Christ continue to teach my students and me, and may all of you also be willing to be taught by our Teacher and Lord through one another.

Rachel

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 244