You Will Come

I just wrote this poem
in 10 minutes...

taking some inspiration from Carl Sandburg's "A Dream Girl"
http://www.poetry.com/LovePoems/lovepoem.asp?id=532

This is what I have been thinking about lately...

"You Will Come"

You will come one day from the coasts of love
Tender as the dawn, strong as deep roots
The heat of the sun will have kissed your skin,
Healing rains will flow from your sweet mouth,
And your stature will be of a mountain.

You will come, with your capable, extended arms,
With eyes even the stars will try to rival,
Sharing thoughts with a simple move of your brow
Expressing ideas with clarity and smoothness
Like the passing of a cloud,
Or the ripples that waltz upon water.

You will come one day from those shores of love,
Ambitious as the morning, wise as the evening
The crashing of the waves will have trained your ears
Discernment of the tides of time will guide you
And your heart will burn from a fire within.

You will come, with your open, unclenched hands,
With shoulders that line up with the horizon,
Opening wide your storehouse of mercy,
Giving to all who have need,
Like an oasis in the desert,
Or a father to an orphan.

You will come, O man of my dream,
You will come, one day
And be more to me than this tenuous hope
Currently stuck in my throat
Caught like a cry unable to be let out.

until I have time to post...here's a video.

I don't have time at this specific moment to post something relevant, but please enjoy two students of mine from last semester, Mikala & Wynona giving their opinion of me :)

A Classroom with a View

Someone I love very deeply once said he'd be happy if he could just watch me sit by a window all day.

This statement came after one of our times at a Starbucks in Tulsa.  We'd gone just to enjoy coffee and talk.  He'd made the mistake of choosing the table right by the window and I'd chosen the seat that faced it directly while he chose a side chair.  We sipped our drinks and sort of shared a dessert, it was actually his piece of cake, not mine.  I think he intended on us talking more than we did, but like I said, he made the mistake of choosing the table by the window.  Maybe you're wondering, what was going on outside of that window that could have distracted her so much to make her a poor conversationalist--of which most of the time, I think I am a very good one.  The answer isn't very exciting, there was nothing more than a parking lot outside of the window, just a large, spacious lot with a few cars dotting the land and a couple other shops and restaurants far enough spaced from our Starbucks to not seem crowded.  But, oh, how I love sitting by windows.  I don't know, something just speaks to me, even if the best the view can be is a parking lot.  I lose myself in the endless possibilities or just in my own thoughts.  If I can see beyond the shop or room that we're in, then my mind can travel anywhere beyond as well.  That particular day, after watching me for what I'm sure was a good seven minutes or so, he asked just what it was that I was thinking...that I cannot reveal since it has become a private joke oft repeated between the two of us...what I can tell you is what happened or rather what I was thinking today.

Even though all of my 36 hours of teaching are held in the same five or six rooms located on the third floor of the teaching building, every classroom holds a different color for me--even if it's the same--depending on the class that is inhabiting it for those two hours.  The class I saw today, which is the second half of an Applied English 604 class, there is a distinct color I feel when I look around in that room, but when I try to explain this coherently, I'm not yet at a place that I can...so suffice it to say, perhaps it's not a visible color, just one that my other senses perceive when I'm in the room with them.  While they were talking with each other, in English of course, about their Ideal University--the one they wished they could create for themselves and other classmates, I saw something, or someone out of the huge windows on the one side of the classroom.  I saw a faceless boy walk out into what I call the "Wasteland" on our campus.  There is really nothing there...just flat dirt, a lot of dirt/sand and nothing...this comprises the area of land that covers the dining hall to the teaching building, save the basketball courts right outside of the classrooms.  The unknown boy was carrying something--a kite.  If you've ever heard me speak of QinHuangDao, or seen a couple of my facebook statuses, you know the wind here is absolutely ridiculous, so I guess it seemed a quite normal thing for the youth to want to use it to his advantage.  The weather here this week has been so fine and perhaps he'd been waiting a while, perhaps had the kite stowed away in the corner of his dorm, or under his bed...and after going to his morning classes, decided this was the day he would bring it out...he would fly it today.  I watched the colorful butterfly kite (odd choice for a boy, no?)  go air born, and jostle about in the sky, not very high.  I smiled and my thoughts went in many directions:

1. My history with the word butterfly, some of you who know me will appreciate this.  And just why today of all days did I see this colorful butterfly swimming in the air outside of my window...

2. The movie, Kite Runner, which I quickly pushed out of my thoughts, too intense for me to handle given the environment.

3. Back to my history with the word Butterfly and how it has been a pet name bestowed on me by a couple of people who really know and love me, one being my mother and another being one of my closest and oldest :) friends Q.  Both, of course, had different reasons for christening me with such a symbol, but I still hold the name dearly when they use it. 

Seeing it today made something inside of me, a part that I'd not acknowledged for months on end, made it shake the dust off of itself.  It is a part of me that has always dreamed of flying--not literally--but the adventurous, longing to travel, to be independent, to be ever on the move, wings quickly fluttering...yes this is what the kite spoke to.  What I just wrote did not come to me while I was watching it, all that did come to me was this "sense of self" I'd not recognized for a long time since I've been here.  For some reason while I watched it, something inside of me said, "I like me, I like growing older, I like who I'm becoming."  I think living in a community like I have been for over seven months now, learning how to serve, how to love, how to forgive, how to get along with people who you don't naturally, how to give grace, how to respect, and all the things it takes to live and work and cooperate and share with people who used to be strangers to you has made me forget myself.  I explained it to another friend the other day that I lost myself, that I had to during this season in order to survive...but somehow just seeing the butterfly kite out of the window today assured me that I am not lost, but merely forgotten for a moment so that something else in me could grow larger--perhaps HIM.  Of course I am more than willing, even an agreeing partner in that forgetfulness and hope it continues to happen from time to time, but today it was like a resurgence of some passions, some pieces, some colors that had not shone for awhile.

4. As I watched the kite, the holder of the string no longer in my view, it soared higher, and higher.  Honestly, I was surprised the kite's string was so long.  I was also surprised that the boy holding the end was letting it go up so far, the vicious wind could surely take control of the butterfly and tear it from his hands, or at least it looked like it could.  I thought of the boy, probably excited or proud of himself that his kite was flying so high.  I thought of relationships, how the further some got away from me the more I wished I had had the security of a kite string, some promise, some magic incantation, some hold over it all to be able to reel the object of my affection back in if they got too far away.  People being out of my reach is one of the worst feelings, especially when I had been accustomed to holding them in my arms and knowing their loveliness and flaws in all their minute detail.  Seeing someone from the ground while they're flapping, perhaps hopelessly, in the wind with no string to bet on, it's usually easier to just look away, less painful anyway.

5. I continued to watch (their project had a lot of questions to answer amongst themselves before they would present it to me), and finally the moment I had waited for, the reeling in of the butterfly or perhaps its crash.  The latter seemed more likely when I realized it was the second time my student, Wing (see previous post), had called my name to ask a question.  I turned to them and it was obvious to me that it was obvious to them that I was somewhere else.  They sort of giggled and I shook my head a little as if trying to tell all of my thoughts to go to their corners until I could find a place when I could release them all again.

My day continued to run on from there, another class, barbecue with a student, the supermarket (again), the Internet bar, the laundry, the cleaning of my room, the slight try at regular journaling, and the beginnings of a birthday card...so I guess I did not find a place to release this specific train of thought until now...and here I am with no necessary point, just a rant on the kite I was distracted by today.  To my "followers", Hannah and Kara, you wanted me to make a blog and this is what happens...

um, it was Tuesday.

I was awakened earlier again this morning than I wanted to be.  Thankfully this time I immediately fell back to sleep until almost 11am.  Because of having Monday off, I was able to switch around my schedule so that my first class was at 2pm today.  I ate some cereal and listened to an Israel CD while I got ready for class.  My first class was Applied English 602, the class that my personal chefs are a part of.  We finished our "Mother-in-law" dramas and did some pronunciation for the latter half of class.  I then walked down the hall of the third floor of the teaching building to have my Applied English 604 class.  They began their dramas today and I enjoyed them immensely.  After class, I invited two of the students, named Wing and Candy, to have dinner with me.  They nervously said they'd love to and could I wait for them to go to the W.C. ?  After waiting, we all walked across the street to one of my new favorite places to eat, but there was some situation happening in the front of the diner, so we chose to walk down to another block.  The girls told me I was the first of any of their foreign teachers to invite them to eat and they were very happy.  I was very glad to be the first, but also sad.  There are so many students in all of our classes, but I had hoped that in the three years they've had ELT teachers that they would have been invited at least once for a meal.  They took me to their favorite place, one across from the supermarket that I'd actually never been to.  

Going to a new place can be an interesting experience for me.  As soon as I walked in with them, the entire first floor got quiet and all patrons facing the door told their partners to turn around and get a good look at the LaoWai...ugh.  The girls walked with me to the second floor and we took a seat.  A few waitresses peek their heads in--there were raggedy curtains that closed us off from the rest of the tables--to catch a glimpse of me also.  One who came in to give us some tea, looked at me and whispered, "Piaoliang," I smiled at her and whispered back, "xie xie."  Wing and Candy giggled and said oh you understood? I told them yes, a student had taught  me last semester because everytime I would go downtown a woman would say this to me and I wanted to know what is was.  So, now that I know it means "beautiful," I always say thank you.  They said they were surprised because the waitress is so young that she would dare to say that to me.  They also said Chinese boys never say how they feel, they just look at you...this of course led into a conversation about the bravery and openness of American boys (their words, not mine).  

We ordered three dishes, and to say that they were more than enough would be an understatement.  I left with four to-go boxes.  The reason why I invited Candy and Wing was because they're total BFFs...and both of them are so dramatic whenever we do scenes together as a class...and Candy has the most god-awful laugh that I want to hear it all the time.  Most Chinese girls have a polite giggle, but Candy...I wish you could see my face right now as I type this...Candy's got a wide-mouth, ugly face, just ridiculously loud laugh; and I love it.  I told her how much I love it tonight at dinner.  She told me that many of her friends are embarassed by her when they are downtown and she laughs like that in public.  She told me that they chide her on account of not wanting to "lose face."  Then Wing and Candy both told me that they couldn't care less about "face," and I decided that I liked both of them even more than I thought I did.

After dinner, we walked back to campus and parted ways on the main road.  They needed to walk to the front gate to get their bikes and ride home--they both live off-campus.  

I was having a conversation with myself last night when I couldn't sleep, which I do frequently these days for two or three big reasons...  But I was saying to myself that so many things happened to me last night, that I want/need/should write about,  but I couldn't put it in the blog because I couldn't have everyone reading that...it had to be in something else.  So, then I responded to myself and said, oh, you mean like a regular journal.  So, I guess I need to start journaling for myself on a consistent basis also.  Hopefully once my crazy 36-hour schedule is over next week, I will do just that.

Having a Monday Off

To begin my blogging journey, I thought I'd show the highlights of my weekend and relish these free moments of my Monday sans classes.

This Saturday, I was supposed to wake up and go see a student named Lea in her room around 9:30am.  Originally, she wanted me to come at 8:30am, when I asked if she was serious about that time, she said, "Oh, is that too late?" I said, Lea, it's Saturday morning...can we do it a little later.  "Oh, how about 9:30?" Well, I agreed to that time, even though when 9:30am rolled around that Saturday morning, I had a terrible time making myself get up.  Could've been do to the fact that I'd taken 2 Benadryl the night previous to knock myself out.  I texted her and asked if I could come around 10, which I still wasn't sure I could do.  She did me one better and said 11.  As I was walking up the stairs to her dorm on the sixth floor, she texted me at 11:01 asking where I was.  I assured her I was in the middle of the long trek to her room and I'd be there in a moment.  I was greeted by Lea and another student, one of her 5 roommates named Kelsie.  They ushered me to her bed to have a seat.  I was given a bowl of Lea's red bean soup that she made on her illegal hot plate in her dorm room.  I was handed a spoon and repeatedly to "have a taste."  I did have a try and have a taste and...well...it was interesting.  I stayed in the room about an hour and a half, as Lea showed me all her Sex in the City, Prison Break, and Lost DVD's that they frequently watch on her mini-DVD player.

I left and returned to my room to really get dressed for the day and made plans to meet one of my students, Frances, who had promised to cook for me that day.  We finally met around 3pm and on our way to the grocery store, stopped off at a corner store to try to get change.  We'd gotten some big bills from our bosses to use when going to the internet bars, and we wanted them in smaller bills. I was about half-way successful in that I could change only 1 of the 100rmb notes.  Then Frances and I entered the GuanYuan and bought broccoli, potatoes, green beans, chicken, and seasonings.  I also picked up some necessary items for my apartment and off we went.  

A little while later, Frances--accompanied by other students--Christina, Elsie, and Strawberry came to our shared kitchen to begin the cooking process.  I was not allowed to help.

About an hour or so later...we had a great meal to share between the five of us, that soon became six, when another student from my Applied English 602, Maggie, joined us.

And as the proverbial Mama, I sit at the head of the table, of course.


After we ate and talked for a long time, we walked across the hall to my room to eat gooey chocolate chip cookies and watch what has become in my opinion a favorite for all Chinese students, Hook.  I think it's the American children that play such big roles in the story that really gets their attention.
 


They wondered for a long time if the actor who plays Rufio was Chinese, I did not think so, but I did not dash all their hopes, perhaps he is--a bit.  I have since researched and found out that Dante Basco is of Fillipino descent.  I neglected to tell them a little self-trivia that I have actually dated two men in my life who are often mistaken for this actor and whose friends call them Rufio on a regular basis.  The first was half Puerto Rican, a quarter African American, and a quarter Korean and the second half Korean and half African American--I figured they could do without that knowledge.

A little after 10pm, 5 very stuffed, very smiley girls filed out of my room and repeated their "thank you's" down the stairwell.  I was very thankful that we had decide to wash dishes as we cooked and directly after we ate.  I did a little facebook stalking and then retired to my room for the night.  

I woke up later than I wanted to and threw some clothes together.  All the teachers were gathering this Sunday morning to meet and sing and then join other students to go downtown to hand out food and love to the poor of our city.  I am not in the self-de-briefing process yet to write a smart enough re-cap of that day, so please refer to Hannah's post for that story.

Hannah, Kara, and a student from NanDaiHe, Heather, followed me back to my school and spent some time in my room. Sci-Tech (my university) then shared a family dinner which consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, not exactly my first choice for a dinner, or a choice at all. I'm not really a fan.  After watching 2 episodes of Seinfeld with Blayzer, I again retired to my room alone for the night.

Finally, we are caught up to today.  We have off today because of the Tomb Sweeping holiday of China where people remember the dead and honor them.  I had high hopes to sleep until at least 10am, which were dashed by the boys I live with around 750am.  Thankfully they woke me up, because a few minutes later, Linda, one of my most popular students (my campus standards), called me frantically screaming something about the 2nd round of a competition that she's in this morning and she can't do her make-up.  I told her to calm down and assured her she could come to my room and I'd do it for her.  She came and I guessed what would be the right colors and design, I've never done make-up for such an exotic, Asian girl before.

My flash made it look a little weird, but I promise she looked pretty.  Yes, that is Michael Scott in the background on my TV screen.  I sprayed her with couple shots of my Chanel perfume to add to her confidence and she ran out my door to have her hair done.  I rewarded my servanthood by eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  I found a book in our library that I started reading and am more than overjoyed to have a diversion other than The Office.

Perhaps this is not very insightful, forgive me for my first post not being full to the brim with wit, but the majority of this was written while on the phone...

Making a Commitment

I'm making a commitment to start blogging on a regular basis, after the persuasive nudging by two other faithful bloggers, Kara and Hannah.  I do not know exactly just what a regular basis means, but I hope to do it a couple times a week.  I mean, I do live in China, my life has got to be interesting enough from that fact alone to sustain a semi-captivating stream of thought on the web. 

So, if you are interested (for some reason, I just had a terrible desire to write, "If ye be interested..." somehow writing for an audience of blog readers has brought out the pirate in me), please subscribe to my ramblings.