I'm happy to be home

even if I teared up when "Party in the USA" came on the radio because it made me think of my kids....

Reverse culture shock is an interesting thing. I slept till 11 yesterday, and woke at 5:45 today. My body is highly confused. I've felt small for the first time in months. I stare at people. I'm still surprised everytime I walk into a bathroom, and I pause before I stick my cup under the tap to fill it up. I got to re-learn what real butter tastes like, (something that a girl who went to college in Cache Valley should never forget.) I understand the lyrics to the songs on the radio, and I spent an exorbant 8 dollars on dinner last night (I felt ridiculous handing over that much money for a meal.) My hands are shriveling up because it is so dry. My bed feels like a cloud sent straight from heaven, and I can walk barefoot through my own house again.     
WEIRD.

I miss China.

But at the same time ---> this is really home. And I'm glad to be here.

Caroling to Chrysanthemums

Xiaolan is a city about a half hour bus ride North-ish of Guzhen. We head there occasionally to shop, visit the pagoda in the big park, visit some of the other teachers, and... well you get the general idea. We went there tonight for the Chrysanthemum festival. Sandy came with Anna, Emma, Megan and me, and we had a marvelous time. Especially when Anna suggested that we sing Bazooka Bubblegum (one of our students most recent favorites) while we wandered around the paths. Sandy was a sport and went along with our antics. And then after we had a marvelous time singing, doing the actions, and getting some odd stares while we were at it, we decided more singing was in order. 

Since it is, in fact, December. We opted for some nice Christmas carols. 

Caroling is one of, if not my favorite, Christmas tradition. And I found it splendid to be walking arm in arm with dear friends, marveling at the cascades of flowers everywhere as we bellowed 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' and 'Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer.' One of the joys of getting stared at constantly is that your inhibitions for a lot of things disappear. 

Sort of a "I already feel like a freak, might as well do something to deserve it" kind of mentality.

It's quite liberating :)

So yes. I started off December right. Caroling with friends. It was lovely, even if we are the only ones who understood what we were doing. 

Happy December everybody!

Illegal Worship

What did you do on Sunday? I'm willing to bet that you did pretty much whatever it is you wanted to do. Maybe you went to Church. Had a family dinner? Played a game, traveled somewhere? And I'll bet that not once did you ever wonder if anything you were doing was illegal.

My Sunday was not like your Sunday. I left my apartment at 7:30 in the morning to get on a bus. #232 took us to a stop at the Fuhua Hotel, which is about an hour away. At the Fahua hotel we stood and waited for the bus with the sea foam green bumper. When we saw it, we waved it down, and then sat on that bus for about another 45 minutes. We disembarked in Kaiyin across from an apartment building, and made our way up to floor 3B (remember they don't believe in 4th floors here) where we crammed ourselves into a dorm room with a whole plethera of other Americans. We quietly sang a few hymns and took the sacrament for Church service. It felt so good to be able to worship with people who believe as I do, and to renew my baptismal covenants.

When we were done with the "sacrament meeting" (no speakers, just hymns and the sacrament) we were asked to keep quiet about our Sunday meetings. In the future we'll follow up Sacrament meeting with some small Sunday school lessons --- which will also have to be very quiet affairs. 'Why?' you might ask.

Because it's technically illegal for us to meet. We aren't allowed to tell people what we are doing, any advertisement of any sort about our religion could get ILP kicked out of the city. 

Yeah. Underground Sacrament meeting. 

Weird right? 

My whole life I've been grateful for my beliefs. They bring me such happiness, and I've always been encouraged to share the things that make me happy with others. But here in China we have to cover it up. Worship is extremely private. Don't ask, don't tell when other Chinese are around. Only talk about it with the Americans. 

I don't like it. I want to talk about it. I want to explain what I believe. But I made an agreement not to, and I'll keep it. 

It's made me so grateful for the freedom of religion we enjoy in America. We have the freedom to share what we believe. We can say whatever we want wherever and whenever we want without fear of repercussion. It's not like that here. 

I've started praying for these wonderful Chinese people. I don't know how or when it will happen, but I believe that someday missionaries will be able to teach the Gospel to these people, and some of them will accept it and find as much joy and happiness from it as I do. 

On the bus ride home from Kaiyin yesterday I was reading in 3 Nephi. Chapter 16 verse 20 says "The Lord hath made bare his holy arm in the eyes of all the nations; and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of God." 

*Note: ALL the nations. ALL the ends of the earth. 

China will receive the blessings of the gospel, and I will be so excited when that day comes! I wish that day could be today, but it's not. So for now, I'll just keep praying. And keep being grateful that I am an American. I am free. And blessed. Just like the song says:

"I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free. And I won't forget the men who died who gave that right to me, and I'd gladly stand up, next to you, to defend Her still today. 'Cause there ain't no doubt I love this land. God bless the USA!"

I fibbed today

Because I am a dirty rotten liar.

And want to know what's worse? I didn't even feel bad about it.

So there is this man. His name is Mr. Son (emphasize the o, and kind of unemphasize the n). And he talks to me a lot. And he asks me to sit by him at lunch sometimes. And he teaches me Chinese words every day. And one day he asked me how old I was.

Friendly guy right? Well... the problem is. He doesn't do this to any of the other teachers. Just me.

It's not a problem. I don't mind talking to him. We're on friendly terms, but I've quit being super friendly, just in case. And I think I now have just cause for my actions, because today he asked me if I want to marry a Chinese man. It took me about negative .4 seconds to promptly respond that I want to marry an American. And he laughed and repeated the question, and I assured him, that I really DON'T want to marry a Chinese man. I REALLY want to marry an American boy.

He tried to tease me further, suggesting that he could set me up with some Chinese... and asking if I have an American boyfriend at home. (This is all done in broken English FYI.) This is where I fibbed. I used a word I'm almost positive he doesn't understand, and said "Sorta" while nodding my head emphatically.

Sorta is not the truth. It's not even close to the truth, because I don't have a single male soul anxiously awaiting my return to the states that I am not already related to.

See what a rotten liar I am? But I'm actually very ok with being a liar in this case.

So. If anyone asks. I have an American boyfriend. But only for the next three months.

:)

"Hey Lady"

So it's too hot in Guzhen for me to worry much about hair and makeup and stuff like that. Not that I was ever super into that stuff anyways.... ok. I'll take part of that back. I have always been a little vain about my hair --- but makeup not so much.

Anyways. Here in China, I don't need to really bother with either in order to turn heads. Literally. Elizabeth and I were discussing how pretty we feel here in China. Even when we are gross and sweaty and dressed extremely badly. I think it's because all of the stares. Especially from the men.

Like a couple of nights ago. Elizabeth and I were walking home from the market. My hair was thrown up in a mess on top of my head, I think hers was in a ponytail. I was sporting a red blood donor t-shirt, and baggy capris. Elizabeth had a gray DI t-shirt on with boy shorts. Not the best look for either of us. Nevertheless, that didn't stop two policemen (yes, policemen) from slowing down to honk and say hello to us.

This afternoon we were walking back from school, when a man sitting next to the corner mart held out a pamphlet or something that he wanted me to take and said "Hey Lady" with a large grin.

Tonight we were walking back from the market. There was a long line of traffic moving slowly along beside us.... yet a motorcyclist slowed down to swerve in front of me, blocking a whole line of traffic as he did so, to say 'Hi,' before smiling and taking off again.

My favorite of the day though was the attractive man eating at the restaurant below our building. He did one of those sweeping 'I'm just seeing what's moving on the street' looks, but his gaze firmly halted when he spotted us, and I'm fairly certain his eyes followed us until we were past.

This happens everywhere. Everyday. All. the. time.

Is it a nice confidence boost? Absolutely.

Good for my large ego? Probably not. Hehe.