Last Days

I don’t have a lot to say at the moment, really. I’m sitting here watching World Cup after an evening of packing, and after a week of goodbyes. There’s been a lot of people to say goodbye to. And I’m a person who wants a solid goodbye, some closure to ten months of experiences. Though, I’ve been finding that goodbyes don’t really do justice to such a wealth of shared experiences and memories. How do you sum something like that up in a poignant mini-speech, or the perfect hug, or the subtlety of silence or a few brief words?

I’m finding I can’t, and thus some goodbyes just end up being what they are—maybe a moment that I’ve overhyped that isn’t all that necessary to make those friendships that will no longer be face to face have some meaning. They have meaning, hug or no hug, tears or no tears.

What can I say? It’s been an extraordinary year that flew by, as extraordinary years tend to do. There is much I learned, much I experienced, plenty of formation that has happened, plenty of preparation for the future. I came to China not totally sure what to expect, but with some definite expectations in mind. But as I should have guessed, the most important facet of this year was not the personal revelations, the cross-cultural lessons, the sight-seeing, the job experience, the interfaith dialogue.

It was the relationships. I guess it’s always that. When I think back on each season of my life, I look back most fondly on the people. I define seasons of my life by the community I had in each season. And that’s exactly what I will remember from this season—the Chinese people as a whole, the casual acquaintances I talked with a time or two, and, especially, the friendships that will likely be maintained long beyond China with people who have loved me in their own way and whom I’ve loved in mine.

Yes, I’m ecstatic to come home. I’m getting married this summer. I’m co-pastoring a church plant and moving to a new city to do so. I have friends and family I miss dearly. I have various food and drink items I miss less dearly, but nonetheless miss.

And yes, I’m sad to leave. I anticipate missing China. Maybe I’ll have more to say about that in a few weeks, when I actually feel the missing. But I’m also aware that my time here is done, that I’ve received what I needed to receive from people here and given what I’ve needed to give. For those relationships that will carry on, I have hope for long fruitful friendships, and plenty of future meetings, especially as the world continues to grow smaller. For those relationships that won't carry on, I accept with gratitude all those with whom our paths have crossed, if only briefly.

This week is a mix of endings and beginnings. My physical presence in China is ending, but the work done in my mind and heart here will bear fruit in the future, I’m sure. And it's hard to know or quantify how my time here will continue to impact the people I've encountered...though I've received many notes and comments about ways I've profoundly influenced my students, which has been so touching and sweet.

And I am thrilled at the thought that as my friends here improve their English over the years, our ability to really understand and be understood by one another will grow as we grow. Maybe that is one of my greatest hopes at the moment…that “China,” for me, is not really ending but is much closer to the beginning.

But for all the ways China is ending, I am so deeply thankful for how I've experienced beauty, love, fullness of life, and the Divine through the people with whom I've shared life these past ten months. I am better off because of it all.

I Play a Lot

Students and teachers alike are in the midst of finals, ever-adjusting schedules (as I've become quite used to in China), extra studying and grading/paperwork, and the heaviness that comes with preparing to say goodbye (probably harder for the graduates and for people like me than it is for returning students, except those that will miss me). But in the midst of all this focus, work, and emotion, I've been having a lot of fun lately. Been playing a lot of basketball and soccer, as usual, but here are few other "active" endeavors of late.

My friend and fellow teacher Ann taught her students (in Wuhan) to play softball, and they've really embraced it, meeting regularly to play. I joined them one weekend and had a blast. This is me hitting a homerun and taking my sweet time rounding the bases. I believe I went 7 for 7 with like three homeruns. Though to be fair, several of those were probably error-induced homeruns, and there was no outfield fence to stop the ball from rolling. Still...good for my ego to see the opposing team back up when I came to bat, as opposed to hearing the words every little leaguer dreads: "EEEEEasy Out!"

The first of two roller-skating excursions! It's been like a decade since I went roller-skating last, but it came back to me. This was a fun experience for our class. As this pictures shows, there was a lot of help and support given to one another. I didn't mind holding hands with Candi and her boyfriend (in this picture), but several boys and men I'd never met kept insisting I hold their hands. I know (or have decided to believe) they were just being nice, but I guess I just wasn't feeling the "couple skate" with random Chinese young men.

Some shots of us doing our best not to fall. The bottom left picture shows one of my, er, "admirers."

Fun in the bouncy house! I was so proud of Sarah and Candi. I saw the bouncy house and immediately wanted to go in, knowing it would be work to get any of my students to join. It is an opportunity to be childlike, a little crazy, disregarding what others think of you for the sake of uninhibited playfulness. And my students are often way to shy to do things like that, prefering to remain collected and cool rather than stand out. My often-eccentric personality has gotten me called crazy countless times this year, mostly in fun (though sometimes I can tell my students just don't know what to do with me). But I always encourage them to lighten up, take a risk, don't put so much stock in others' opinions. The result on this particular occassion? They had a blast, it seemed.

I also made a friend in the bouncy house. Her mother told one of my students that I was the first foreigner she'd ever interacted with. It's cool to think she'll never forget that experience, and will have such a positive impression of foreigners as being nice and friendly and warm and fun. Maybe a little insane.

Roller Skating, Part Deux

Matt's Angels??? The guns were a nice alternative to the standard peace (or for them, "victory") sign they use in nearly every picture. Not that I'm against peace.

Dragon Boat Festival! Classes were canceled Mon-Wed this week for students to go home and celebrate with their families. Though, it seems most of my students' celebrations involved an only slightly-more-special-than-usual meal with family and perhaps watching the races on TV. However, Alex and Catherine--my students--and some of Alex's friends and I went to Dong Hu (East Lake) in Wuhan to watch a few races and enjoy the festivities.

Alex had some connections, so we got to play around in kayaks for a while, which was a blast. The highlight had to be Alex and his buddy capsizing a few minutes after this picture was taken.

Between this picture of Catherine and I kayaking and the "Charlie's Angels" picture, it is clear I do not have a "tough guy" face.

On Being Rooted

June! With a month remaining in my China adventure, I’m trying to take stock of what has made this season special, those things that have defined my time here. There are many places I could begin. Something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately has more to do with my own transformation. I think a good way to articulate this is: learning to be rooted. Or grounded. Or confident and secure.

I like the imagery of rootedness. It conjures up a picture for me of something that, despite wind and weather and human hands, does not easily budge from its place. Yet at the same time it’s not so set in its “trajectory” that it can’t be influenced by its surroundings. By being malleable and open to influence, a plant can be redirected and altered. But it remains in the ground, nourished by soil and water, not thrown into chaos due to the forces swirling around it.

I guess I’m creating two metaphors out of this image, and the connection with "belief" is not really my point here. That is, the importance of being rooted in beliefs while being open to having those beliefs—especially their practical application—shaped by our environment and adjusted. We may know our identity as a plant but might not know how to actually BE a plant. Literally, we may believe in something but not know exactly how to manifest those beliefs into every context we find ourselves in.

We need help from others, I think. We need to be able to say, “here is what I believe about purpose, human nature, what is right and good. Can you help me figure out how to live my beliefs?” I think that is a part of what interfaith dialogue entails. It means grasping firmly to our beliefs—at least admitting we believe SOMETHING more than we believe something else—but looking around for help as to how to live out those beliefs.

We ask people who are different than us: “what do you need? How do people in your culture experience love? What is beautiful to you? What causes you pain? How do you understand the ‘good life?’ What draws you to the worldview you have? When you observe me, how might I be captive to my own cultural worldview? How do you think humans can make the world better?”

Or even, “I am (such-and-such religion or political ideology); how do you think I can more fully and effectively and faithfully live out my mission?” Dialogue means getting help from others, and dropping the assumption that others have no help to give. I think we shouldn’t be afraid of opening ourselves up to the assistance of others—especially if we are truly “rooted.” We should have no fear.

But alas, as I said, this is not my main concern here. And the metaphor is imperfect, anyway. We may very well THINK we are rooted in something good and true but actually be so misguided that we actually NEED to be uprooted and re-planted in soil that is more life-giving…or, closer to the truth, closer to the way things really are. I might be a Christian and be confident in what I believe but be missing the mark in some ways and thus holding tightly to a version of Christianity that has diverged a bit from the intentions of its initiator. Maybe a little uprooting is called for.

But I’m thinking more of rootedness in terms of having a sense of peace about who I am and not being overly influenced by the way it seems others respond to me. It’s so easy to be caught up in how I’m being perceived, in the opinions of others, in how my words and actions are affecting others. China has been such a good challenge in not understanding my identity as based on the way others favorably or dis-favorably respond to me.

I’m not sure if this makes total sense and if I’m not indulging a bit here in over-reflection. But maybe some of you can relate to that frantic feeling that comes when you’re thinking about how others perceive you. Me, I get reactive. Maybe the annoying thing is that I’m self-aware enough that I know when I get reactive and it drives me crazy, because I should be further along in this journey of spiritual formation than I am.

I don’t think God’s grace entitles us to simply repeatedly apologize to God for our mistakes because we’re not ever going to get any better. I think God’s grace should inspire us toward transformation, becoming a different kind of person than we were a day ago, or a decade ago. I don’t like “God’s grace” being used as an excuse to be unwilling to be changed and renewed into something that resembles Jesus maybe a bit more than before.

What do I mean in practice by the need to be rooted? At times when Chinese people are talking about me, laughing at me, staring at me, or even just obviously too shy to talk to me, I can feel that initial concern: “what are they thinking about me? What are they saying? Don’t they know how rude they are?” It’s like my first reaction is negative; I assume the worst. I think it's because I feel threatened. Because I’m not as “rooted” as I should be.

I don’t always respond out of a place of peace, a peace that enables me to respond with love and gratitude, to see other people not as threats to my self-worth, but as people who are beautiful, people who have their own concerns and issues and whose top priority is not really me. Sometimes I feel like while I might outwardly smile back I feel inwardly annoyed by these interactions. To be fair, sometimes I think I “pass” the test, and can accept these moments in life with grace, rather than reactivity.

I guess that’s what I mean by being rooted. But there are other ways this plays out. Like when I express an opinion I have about something, and find that another disagrees. What should be an opportunity to learn something new—as I’ve preached above—becomes more about how I feel like maybe I don’t know what the heck I’m talking about and maybe my opinions aren’t legitimate…or, how can I rephrase it and backtrack so I can save face and look better? Or how can I win the argument? Rooted: welcoming disagreement as an opportunity to grow, not putting up walls against others.

Rooted. In China, no one understands me as deeply as I’d like to be understood. The cultural and language barriers are simply too strong. Actually, none of my friends and family, not even my fiancée, who probably understands me better than anyone, understands me as much as I’d like. That’s not their fault, nor mine, really.

But instead of despairing about this, I think being rooted means finding what I’m looking for from somewhere else, so that I don’t place unrealistic expectations on the people around me. For me, I think that’s God—believing that God’s knowledge of and empathy for the intricacies of “me” is enough. It also means relishing those moments when I AM understood by those I care about, giving them grace when they don’t, and having the patience and tenacity to make myself understood.

Rooted. I’ve been shown a lot of kindness and hospitality by the people I’ve met in China. I can’t say that enough. But there are inevitably moments where the attention or affection I’d hope for from those I give my attention and affection to is not returned. Some of it’s probably immaturity on the part of my students. They’re young, and they just take my kindness and devotion to them for granted, or have their own concerns and insecurities that disable them from whatever ideal response it is I'm looking for.

But that definitely does not apply to all of my students. And some of it’s probably shyness. They don’t know how to respond accordingly in a way that shows they care and like me because they are timid and are afraid to look silly. Some of it is probably cultural, and more my fault for missing their gratitude when they display it.

I think my whole life will be a journey of increasingly learning how to love. Living in China has only contributed to this journey, as I have to constantly return to my “roots” and remember that the kind of love I want to give to others is a love that loves without judgment, without expectations of reciprocity, without pushiness. Feeling blue because some students keep themselves at a distance from me—whatever their reasons may be—or because they make a comment, or give a look that feels unkind is not a state of emotion I want to stay in for long. I want to be able to shake things off, to respond to un-lovingness with more love, to not let a lack of positive affirmation stop me from loving. (Gosh...maybe I'm ready to be a parent.)

I think all that is a part of being rooted. Almost like an ability to kind of float through life unfazed when we feel like our actions, good intentions, or personality/self are not noticed, affirmed, and celebrated in the way we’d like, and to trust that Love is so powerful and wonderful that there’s nothing so worthwhile as giving more and more love, trusting that the “fruits of our labors” will eventually manifest themselves even if we don’t see them. And that at the very least—if you share my views on such matters—that God is pleased that we are living out our design and will not forget our efforts.

So thank you China for such life lessons, lessons that I’ve been learning for some time and will continue to learn long after I leave. You and your people have been so good to me.

More Spring Pictures!

I posted some pics of the sports competition a couple weeks back, but here are some glimpses of what else I've been up to in recent weeks:

Strawberry picking with Janet, Sarah, and David (sophomore students). I seem to be pleased with my find here.

David trying to teach me how to "pop," a kind of hip-hop dance that is enormously popular here.

An outdoor concert I was invited to put on by the "music association" (as they call themselves) on campus. There was a program of performers, but as I expected from past experience, I was asked to perform last minute. I borrowed a guitar and after jokingly playing the first two lines of "Kan Guo Lai," a popular Chinese song we teachers performed back in September, I played "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" (Death Cab) and "Where the Streets Have no Name" (U2). I heard a couple faint voices plead for "My Heart Will Go On" but I was able to finagle my way out of playing that.

A shot of a wedding I attended a few weeks back of my friend Christina's (Chen Ying) brother. Unlike a typical American wedding, with a rather tame ceremony and lively reception, the ceremony was much more of a party. The lighting was unique, the officiator/minister was more like an MC trying to enliven the guests, people sat at tables instead of in rows while eating and drinking (a lot), kids had little noise-maker devices...VERY different atmosphere. Christina's family was honored at my presence. One bizarre occurrence...the bride was in tears after the wedding, seemingly kind of freaked out about her impending new life. But as I found out later, this is tradition. The bride is supposed to cry after the wedding, I guess symbolizing the painful separation from her family. But also, she's moving in with her new husband's family, and their "honeymoon" will take place in the bedroom adjacent to his parent's bedroom. No offense to any of my or Joann's family...but I'd be freaked out too if I were her.

Teaching my students how to play Uno in Wuhan. We had a three-day weekend for China's "Labor Day" and several of us met up here at Mr Mais (think I've mentioned this place before), with some Wuhan friends of mine joining us as well. I look like I'm not messing around in this picture.

A shot of some of the gang outside of Mr Mai's. From L to R: Alex, Catherine, Cary (he's not my student but one of my friend Marilyn's students in Wuhan), Anna, Katie, Grace, Sophia. Or, if you prefer, now that I've finally learned their Chinese names: Zhang Zheng, Zhou Ting, Cary (don't know his name), Pan Xing Ru, Hu Pei, Guan Yue Zhu, Wang Pian.

I threw a dinner party for my freshman students...meaning, they prepared nearly everything, with most students preparing at least one dish (I did contribute one "Chinese dish" which I don't think they thought was all that Chinese). It's fun to observe how much more comfortable and relaxed we all are with one another, compared to the beginning of the school year.

My "pets." I've had the pleasure of watching the whole process of these baby birds being born, from several weeks ago when mama bird starting gathering twigs to prepare this nest. That took a while in itself, before the bird actually began to hang out there more, outside the window on the less windy side of my sixth story apartment. Over time I saw one, then two eggs total. No kidding, every day I've checked to see their progress, and it's become as much a part of my routine as my morning cup of coffee. I discovered they'd been born a few days ago, though they've probably been alive longer but just hidden from view by their mother, perched on top of them. This was taken three days ago. It's been fun to enjoy a process so delicate, deliberate, unhurried. In sadder, this-is-the-way-of-things news, I checked this morning...and they're gone. The nest is empty.

Things I WON'T Miss About China

As this season of my life begins to wind down (or speed up to a sprint), I’m trying to think more intentionally about how to spend my time well, how to be fully present in my work and relationships, how to end well. Though, I imagine this “end” is only the closing of one aspect of my relationship with China—my time as a teacher at this college in Xiaogan with this particular community of people.

I anticipate it is the just beginning of many relationships formed here (especially with the ability to stay connected through current and still-developing technology) and likely the beginning of my relationship with the country and culture as a whole, though I can’t articulate what that relationship will look like yet.

In blogging I’ve mostly written with gratitude, reflecting on the good and beautiful I’ve experienced here. I’ve been critical at times, but that’s been mostly overshadowed by writing with a kind of optimism and intrigue about everything. And, well, that’s just kind of me, and when I force myself to write about it and share it with others, I’m challenged to keep my eyes open to see this goodness and beauty, which is overwhelming and obvious if my eyes are indeed open to see it and my heart open to receive it.

And I’ll probably have more to say in the coming weeks about what I’ll miss about my time here. BUT…I thought it fair or at least worthwhile to consider and share some of those things I don’t necessarily think I’ll miss all that much when I leave. Time for a little negativity for a change… :)

DRIVERS. I haven’t driven a car since I came to China, and I have no desire to. Chinese drivers are not necessarily bad drivers…but they’re chaotic drivers. I’ve had so many close calls while riding on buses and in taxis. Actually, I was riding in a sort of rickshaw with a few students back when I was traveling in February, and a car rammed into the back edge of our cart, nearly tipping us over. I was a little shaken up, and a little amused. (We got out of the rickshaw and didn't pay our driver, though he didn’t ask for money.)

Traffic lanes are “guidelines” here, not rules, and drivers unhesitatingly drive on the wrong side of the road for several seconds at a time, weaving in and out of lanes. I would not know what I was doing if I was driving. But they do seem to know what they’re doing, as I’ve maybe seen only one or two accidents in all my time here. Still…I don’t like the chaos and numerous close calls.

LINES. Related to above, lines are a bit chaotic. Some people respect the order of a line, but many do not. People really like to push their way to the front, and are often very strategic and sneaky about the way they get in front of one another. Chinese lines are not for the passive. And it seems almost expected, like if I’m going to hold my ground in line I need to be a bit aggressive. But I’m naturally not, and often times now when I see someone trying to cut, I’ll either glare at them for a while, or hold up my hand and say “whoa!” Sometimes they get the hint.

Actually, the checker at the vegetable stand at the local supermarket knows this annoys me. Just last week I was waiting patiently for her to weigh and price my green peppers and broccoli when an elderly woman and a slightly larger man swooped in. But before I could make some kind of grunt of dissatisfaction, the checker saw me, recognized me (obviously), and weighed my vegetables first. Nice to have her on my side. :)

HONKING. Drivers are very liberal with their horn use here. In America, if someone honks their horn at you whether you are driving or walking, it’s usually because they’re annoyed with you. But in China, drivers constantly warn each other when—by my judgment—such a warning is not needed. And I startle VERY easy, so when I’m walking and not at all in the way of the path of a driver, but he thinks I am or that I might soon enter his path, even if I can hear him coming, he’ll honk. And I jump. And get annoyed. And then get annoyed with myself for getting annoyed at him.

SPITTING. Men and women over the age of forty or so are constantly hacking up stuff and spitting, often making it known a city block away when they’re doing it. Sometimes they even do it indoors and on buses, spitting on the floor. It’s gross. Fortunately my students think so too, so hopefully they won’t go down that path and become spitters when they are older.

LITTER. The streets are really filthy around here, as most people (but not all) don’t think twice about throwing their garbage on the ground, even indoors at times. Generally speaking, the people in Xioagan are pretty bad litterers. I suppose the one positive of this is that it creates a lot of jobs, as the city hires workers (for cheap) to walk around constantly and clean the streets, way more so than I’ve ever seen in America. So perhaps every piece of trash I throw on the ground creates jobs and feeds families; gosh, maybe I should reconsider my stance on littering.

SMOKING. Smoking is not prohibited indoors here, and smoking is also much cooler among college boys here than in America (never seen a girl or woman smoking here). I don’t care much for breathing in second hand smoke, nor do I like having to wash my clothes after being around smokers.

THE ATTENTION. This is a tricky one. This may be surprising to some, but I get tired of the attention here. I certainly love and appreciate that people want to be my friend and often want to help me in some way, and I do cherish all of my friends here. But even for someone like me with the kind of personality and wiring that seems to welcome attention, sometimes I really just long to be obscure…to walk down the street and not have everyone looking at me in a way that makes me feel more like a novelty than a person, more an “it” than a “he.”

Sometimes I just smile and consider it sweet when girls giggle at me and boys shyly smile and laugh with one another when they see me. I know it’s not mean-spirited. But sometimes it wears on me and I just want to shout at people. But I don’t, because, well…I’m usually nicer than that. But obscurity has never sounded so nice—to not be noticed by anyone other than those who really know and appreciate me, as many of my students/friends here do. But who knows…maybe I’ll come back to America and walk down the street and wonder why everyone’s not looking at me and start feeling really needy and long for the attention of China. I sure hope not.

18-21 YEAR-OLD RELATIONSHIPS. It seems like there’s a pretty common formula for many of the couples I see here: the pouty girl and the pushy guy. Nearly all of my students are single or have boyfriends/girlfriends back home and not here, so those I observe in passing are students I don’t really know. But I see the routine all the time. Guys act a bit forceful with girls, and the girls play the role of pouty “I-don’t-wanna!” girl, which makes the guys all the more “do-my-will!”-like in their interactions. It use to just be the guys that annoyed me and made me want to go get in their face and tell them how to properly treat women, although one of my fellow female teachers rightly pointed out that the girls don’t really help with their silly attitude. Ugh. So obnoxious. And unhealthy.

THE AIR. The air is just pretty dirty here in Xiaogan (and worse in Wuhan) and I rarely see blue sky even on warm days, because of the cloudy haze of smog (though it’s glorious when I do see blue). While China seems to be working hard at alternative energy, it’s also pretty polluted, which I’ve heard attributed to China’s rapid economic development…as if China kind of progressed faster than its environment was prepared for.

THE LACK OF A STARBUCKS. Sometimes an Americano sounds lovely, though I do get one about once a month when I go into Wuhan. And for that matter, I won’t miss the lack of many edible items I take for granted in America. I really do enjoy Chinese food, and feel like my diet here might be healthier than in America. But sometimes I just wish for a burrito from Chipotle, a slice of pizza from Old Town Pizza, an oversize cheeseburger from Deschutes Brewery, or a pint from Mcmenamins. I have a feeling re-entering America will have a similar effect on my weight as the typical freshman at college.

DISTANCE FROM LOVED ONES. Obviously. It’s hard, no doubt, though the joy that comes from making new friends and feeling valued here makes the distance from home bearable.

I don’t imagine I’ll miss any of these things. Then again, while I don’t look favorably on the abovementioned facets of life in China, they could become more endearing than unpleasant in a few months as I nostalgically look back on my time here. I’m open to that.

But, nah, they probably won’t.

Sports Competition!

This past weekend was the school's annual sports competition, consisting primarily of track and field events. Each department competes against one another, and the whole thing is taken very seriously. So much so that departments will call former students to come back to help increase their chances of winning, as a lot of pride and honor is at stake. It is mainly for students, though teachers compete as well (against one another, not against students). I, of course, represented the Foreign Language Department, who I believe was either last place or pretty close to last place overall, as is usual...we are a small department, and relatively unathletic.

I took on the role of encourager, trying to show people that you can have fun without winning, as well as the role of buffoon, making people laugh as often as possible with my theatrics. The event lasted two days--Friday and Saturday--which were some of the most gorgeous days we've had in some time. It was fun, but also a really special time with many of my students--being silly, discussing both serious and light topics, and enjoying a much-needed break from studies for students who seem to be worked very hard.

From the opening ceremonies.

I am no longer Matt. I am simply a number.

From the 100 meter dash. This is admittedly posed (if it wasn't obvious), due to photographer error during the actual race. I got fourth out of eight (20-35 age bracket). I kind of expected to be last, so I was thrilled.

The 4x100 relay, final leg. I may see if I can get my hair to do that all the time, not just when I'm sprinting.

Our 4x100 relay team. I think we were third place (out of four)...not great, though this was my favorite event (to participate in and to watch).

Long jump. Actually, this was just for fun, as I did not compete in the event.

Shot put. I got third place out of eight! Happy with that.

The sack race. Despite an early lead, this one did not go so well for me, as the picture indicates. Got a bit scratched up from that fall.

Some of my students competing in various events.

From a post-competition, mini-photo shoot with some of my friends/students.