January 6, 2009

Friends,

One of the joys of living in China is to welcome visitors. Once friends and family realize that you're really not crazy and you really are enjoying making a life for yourself in a foreign country, the interest they express in visiting begins to multiply exponentially. Sometimes I think a few of my visitors only visited me out of a sense of morbid curiosity (How does she survive in a country that speaks such a different language?) but regardless of reason, I'm always happy to have visitors in my new country.  As a result, I've entertained my father, my uncle and aunt, two high school friends, a sorority sister, and two former summer camp colleagues, including one who I dragooned into teaching my students how to dance salsa.

This December, I had visitors of another sort. The Amity Foundation has established a partnership with the Hong Kong Institute of Education (HKIEd) and the Fulbright Scholar's Program. Each year about 16 Fulbright scholars come to the Hong Kong Institute to teach English and study how China has changed over the 20th century. These Fulbrights also spend about two weeks each semester in the mainland, getting a taste of what one Fulbright called "the true China.” Gary, my teaching partner, and I were blessed to host 8 ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) and a representative from HKIEd from December 9 to 19.

It was quite an eventful time with our crew of Fulbright ETAs. One of them, Hannah, saw some school-age children riding snakeboards, so named because they have only one wheel on each end, as opposed to the usual two, and can be propelled on level ground by shimmying your feet back and forth rapidly. Hannah decided to buy one, and then made the mistake of trying to practice riding it in the town square. Our group was reproached by a policeman for doing that. Another ETA had a birthday during our time together, so Gary, Danielle, and I bought her a huge cake decorated like a porcupine for the celebration. (It had chocolate "spines.") That was a huge hit. Gary and I each hosted a movie night at our homes, and I had six students from one of my classes come to my house and teach the ETAs how to make dumplings one evening for supper. Of course, outside of these ordinary Chinese encounters, the ETAs also taught Gary's and my classes for a week. My students couldn't get over the fact that the two Asian-Americans spoke English so well (but they look Chinese!), and of course my girls were swooning over the two boys. "So handsome" was a comment they heard over and over again.

The ETAs particularly enjoyed the opportunities they had to talk to students. One memorable discussion took place between me, an ETA named Linda, and three third-year students who have taken the English names Luke, Abraham, and Kevin. Luke had invited Linda and me to his dormitory room, which like most dormitory rooms in China, was the size of your average American dorm room but housed six to eight students. Four of Luke's dorm mates were out when we arrived, but Kevin was there, and after about a half-hour, their classmate Abraham joined us. Luke began telling Linda about his hometown in Gansu, first by describing the 10-hour journey to get there. Keep in mind that my town, Zhangye, and Luke's town are in the same province. It takes 6 hours by train, 2 hours by bus, an hour by motorbike, and an hour (if you're lucky) waiting around in various stations between these different forms of transport to travel from Zhangye to Luke's town near Tianshui. He showed us pictures of his mud-brick home, with various crops stacked along the walls. The picture of the kang where his family slept caused Linda to leak a few tears. A kang is a stone or earthen slab constructed over a hearth, and at night it is covered in bedding for the entire family to sleep on together. During the winter, a fire is lit below the kang for added heat. Linda asked if Luke's whole family really slept there, and he replied "Of course, all five of us." Kevin then piped in with "Our family's kang can fit all six of us, too."

After the pictures, Linda asked all three of the boys questions about their lives, and she was moved to tears several times by the heartrending replies. When asked if Luke's parents liked Luke's sister as much as their sons, Luke revealed that she was not, in fact, his biological sister, but adopted by his parents after the original family had decided that they didn't want her. Kevin spoke of his sister giving up her schooling at age 10 so that he could continue to attend, because his parents could only afford to educate one of their three children. Luke then piped in with the story of how he had almost had to give up his schooling as well after only eight years because his family had no money to pay for his school fees. A neighbor donated the 100 yuan (less than $15) he needed to return. Abraham, who is from Heilongjiang, the most northeastern province in China, told us how he saves money all year long so that he can buy a train ticket home to celebrate the Chinese New Year with his family. To get there, he spends close to 50 hours on a hard seat on a train because he can't afford even the cheapest sleeper berths. Yet when Linda managed to compose herself enough at one point to say that she felt guilty for having such a pleasant and luxurious life by comparison, all three boys looked astonished. For them, all the hardship was simply life, and bemoaning it was useless. They neither wanted nor expected pity, just a chance to prove that they could be useful to their families and repay them for the sacrifices they had made. The three boys were typical students from the Chinese countryside. They expect life to be hard. It's no wonder they never complained about having to memorize entire textbooks in their school age years—they knew the alternative was a life working in the fields, often with only a donkey or water buffalo to help plow. Any education, no matter how hard-won, was a gift to be treasured.

It was also an identity. For many of our students, they didn't have names until they went to school. Many were simply called "third daughter" or "second son" until they had to be registered. One of Gary's students wrote a moving paper for her final exam about how at first she was even more thrilled to receive a name than she was over the chance to go to school. These students do not know that God knows exactly who they are, that he has "engraved your name upon my hands.” Whether they are known as individuals by others matters not, to God they are known and precious.

The ETAs said that they most treasured moments like these. And these are among my most sacred memories as well.  I hope to share such moments with future visitors to my home in China, for those are what change and deepened perceptions. “For I was a stranger and you welcomed me..." is something that my Chinese students take seriously, Christian or not. They are always eager to welcome visitors to their homes and their lives, and it is upon entering these lives that my faith that God has placed me exactly where I am needed is strengthened. I invite all of you to visit this place, to hear the stories that will change your heart and give you a renewed sense of purpose for your lives as well.

God's blessings,

Rae

The 2009 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 117