I just spent my first thanksgiving away from home, but I was surrounded by family. The PCVs in the Guizhou province came together in the capital, Guiyang, for some old fashioned turkey, stuffing, and (God bless) pumpkin pie. What a great time.
I arrived on Friday after a longer-than-usual 7 hour bus ride. There was some hold up due to construction and a traffic accident, but I wasn't complaining because the seats on the bus were HUGE (think first class on an airplane) and there was an English movie, Transporter 3. I'm pretty sure that the bus drivers put on English movies just for the foreigners, but the other passengers seemed interested too, so no love lost.
After arriving, I indulged in some western food at Papa John's Restaurant with some friends from China 14. Very Delicious. It's difficult to figure out WHY you are serving in the Peace Corps while you are mowing down on fresh pizza; that's another topic for another post.
Back to T-day. SO EPIC. There's nothing like camaraderie when you're away from your family. The celebration was a great; the perfect mix of cooking and eating was achieved, and efforts in the kitchen segued into efforts on the plate. We even had a few expat families running around with little (and adorable) toddlers. I don't think a Thanksgiving is complete without a young family fussing about somewhere. Much love to those that were there.
After the dinner though, things got decidedly more young adult. A group of us ventured forth with turkey in our veins. We hit a local bar and had some Chinese beer while discussing the ins and outs of community development, global economics, and the pros of popping bottle tops on wooden tables. Very good.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
An uncanny knack
I'm not a super good planner when it comes to most things. In the day-to-day, I'm one part frantic, two parts procrastinating, mixed over a generous portion of impulsive and topped with scatterbrained. I get the necessities accomplished, like classes, meetings, and the gym, but its the other stuff that takes thought in the morning (or, Lord forbid, the night before) and execution in the afternoon that tends to fall into oblivion. This includes, but is in no way limited to, cooking meals, laundry, cleaning, and shopping for things like soap.
However, I have possessed an uncanny knack for lining up the distant future. In 8th grade at Saint Francis Xavier Prepatory School I boldly told my Math and English/Religion teachers that I would teach English someday. Look at me now, half way around the world, teaching Chinese students that, despite what the text book says, 'Wazzup' is wildly inappropriate underneath any imaginable circumstances. In my junior year at Barnstable High School I decided that the University of Maine at Farmington was the school I would attend. Indeed, that was the only school I applied to; it was where I was going, and damn all the nay sayers (although there weren't any).
I started my PC application in junior year of UMF, and after 14 months of doubt, waiting only on my graduation, I was bound for San Francisco, and then the PRC. In all truth, I had the PC in mind way before that, pretty much from the beginning of my undergrad. I don't mean to brag; I don't think this is even a skill, it just happens. I can't guarantee I'll take the laundry out of the wash, but so far I've been able to tell you where I'll be in three years time.
And, with that in mind, I hazard this forecast: I'll be back on two planks (for those who don't feel the pull of mountains, two planks means skis, because there are... two of them) within 26 months, depending on the snowfall of the northeast.
However, I have possessed an uncanny knack for lining up the distant future. In 8th grade at Saint Francis Xavier Prepatory School I boldly told my Math and English/Religion teachers that I would teach English someday. Look at me now, half way around the world, teaching Chinese students that, despite what the text book says, 'Wazzup' is wildly inappropriate underneath any imaginable circumstances. In my junior year at Barnstable High School I decided that the University of Maine at Farmington was the school I would attend. Indeed, that was the only school I applied to; it was where I was going, and damn all the nay sayers (although there weren't any).
I started my PC application in junior year of UMF, and after 14 months of doubt, waiting only on my graduation, I was bound for San Francisco, and then the PRC. In all truth, I had the PC in mind way before that, pretty much from the beginning of my undergrad. I don't mean to brag; I don't think this is even a skill, it just happens. I can't guarantee I'll take the laundry out of the wash, but so far I've been able to tell you where I'll be in three years time.
And, with that in mind, I hazard this forecast: I'll be back on two planks (for those who don't feel the pull of mountains, two planks means skis, because there are... two of them) within 26 months, depending on the snowfall of the northeast.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Ultiamte effort
I've been active lately, starting to get my hands dirty in activities outside my main PC project (teaching English). For a while, namely the months of September and October, I was truthfully apprehensive, perhaps nervous of doing... anything. This nervousness, which manifested itself mostly in my subconscious (I think), was due to the ever present language barrier, the seemingly unscalable cultural barrier, and the practical issues of irritated bowels.
I think the change started a some weeks ago when I joined a local gym. Slowly I was a little more involved in things, a little more adventurous. Furthermore, I was tucked away inside my apartment a little less.
This week was a breakthrough. It started when I attempted (and, as far as I can tell, failed) to initiate an English Movie Night event on the campus. I showed interest in extra-curricular activities, and my students were crazy about the idea, which bolstered my confidence. When that fell apart, one of my coworkers here at the university asked what other activities I might like to try with the students, and I mentioned Ultimate Frisbee. Very few people know what frisbee is even when I explain it with the Chinese translation Fei Pan (literally means flying plate, no joke). My coworker, who is not only a great teacher but a great facilitator, organizes all the extra-curricular activities for the English Department students.
Last Friday I played Ultimate Frisbee with a group of about 20 students. I was beyond excited, and the event blew my expectations away. I want to create a competitive Ultimate club on campus, in the style of western (read: American) collegiate intramural sports. I figured that I would start by teaching the students how to throw and catch, and maybe in a few weeks get around to explaining the rules and playing a game. I was wrong. We played a game (seven on seven, full teams!) for about 40 minutes. It was GREAT.
One student stuck out of the bunch. David (we named him that day, and it fits him) has learned the basics of Ultimate in a little under 3 hours. He can throw a forehand, backhand, and fake a throw not two days after first seeing a Frisbee. He's short, so I'm working on his vertical but hes going to be great. Literally, he can throw a forehand 30 yards, flat, fast, and on target. It took me a month or so to be able to do that with coaching in my native language. Watch out Beijing Ultimate, Xingyi University is gonna give you a run for your money.
I think the change started a some weeks ago when I joined a local gym. Slowly I was a little more involved in things, a little more adventurous. Furthermore, I was tucked away inside my apartment a little less.
This week was a breakthrough. It started when I attempted (and, as far as I can tell, failed) to initiate an English Movie Night event on the campus. I showed interest in extra-curricular activities, and my students were crazy about the idea, which bolstered my confidence. When that fell apart, one of my coworkers here at the university asked what other activities I might like to try with the students, and I mentioned Ultimate Frisbee. Very few people know what frisbee is even when I explain it with the Chinese translation Fei Pan (literally means flying plate, no joke). My coworker, who is not only a great teacher but a great facilitator, organizes all the extra-curricular activities for the English Department students.
Last Friday I played Ultimate Frisbee with a group of about 20 students. I was beyond excited, and the event blew my expectations away. I want to create a competitive Ultimate club on campus, in the style of western (read: American) collegiate intramural sports. I figured that I would start by teaching the students how to throw and catch, and maybe in a few weeks get around to explaining the rules and playing a game. I was wrong. We played a game (seven on seven, full teams!) for about 40 minutes. It was GREAT.
One student stuck out of the bunch. David (we named him that day, and it fits him) has learned the basics of Ultimate in a little under 3 hours. He can throw a forehand, backhand, and fake a throw not two days after first seeing a Frisbee. He's short, so I'm working on his vertical but hes going to be great. Literally, he can throw a forehand 30 yards, flat, fast, and on target. It took me a month or so to be able to do that with coaching in my native language. Watch out Beijing Ultimate, Xingyi University is gonna give you a run for your money.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Goal two, check.
Peace Corps Volunteers aspire to fulfill three main goals of service. Our first goal is to provide skilled individuals to inviting countries. Our second goal is to share our culture with the host country; when fulfilling this goal, it is important to remember to inform, not indoctrinate. Lastly, we PCVs hope to share some of our cultural learning of our host country with fellow Americans (and, in this global age, perhaps any other world citizens) back home.
I believe that more goals exist, goals that extend far past the first three, but those three are the most important (and published) goals of the PCV.
Last night, I went to my local gym to get in a work out. I was excited because I knew Mr. Yang, my casual personal trainer, would be there to lead me through a solid leg workout. The past few days I had worked my arms, back, and core during the day, when the weight room, dance hall, and yoga den are nearly devoid of life or movement. Yesterday, though, I found time to exercise at night, which is preferable becasue the gym is alive, swarming with yogis, meat-heads, belly dancers, and the odd gangling teenager. And, of course, Mr. Yang, with his deadly workout routines.
Anyways, back to the goals. Sitting in the men's changing room last night, a youngish chinese man greeted me (He said 'good morning' even though it was 7:30PM) and took interest in my Ipod Shuffle. I forget the words that were exchanged, but the conversation culminated in us swapping Ipods for the evening, his older shuffle model for my newer brushed steel clip. My model lacks the normal buttons of an Ipod, eschewing them in exchange for weight and size reductions, so I had to teach my new friend to us the remote control built into the headphone wire. That was an adventure in pantomime.
In the end, we swapped Ipods for the better half of the workout. It was great, I was listening to older US stuff like Linkin' Park's breakout album and some new Chinese music, while he was jamming out to Bruce Springsteen, Xavier Rudd (I recommend him highly), and about a dozen Dave Matthews albums.
Cultural exchange is not simply watching ethnic minorities practice their ancestors dances, or what they think are their ancestors dances. Culture is dirty, grimy, and in this case a little sweaty and shaped like an earphone.
Goal two, check. And, seeing as you're reading this, check off goal three, too.
I believe that more goals exist, goals that extend far past the first three, but those three are the most important (and published) goals of the PCV.
Last night, I went to my local gym to get in a work out. I was excited because I knew Mr. Yang, my casual personal trainer, would be there to lead me through a solid leg workout. The past few days I had worked my arms, back, and core during the day, when the weight room, dance hall, and yoga den are nearly devoid of life or movement. Yesterday, though, I found time to exercise at night, which is preferable becasue the gym is alive, swarming with yogis, meat-heads, belly dancers, and the odd gangling teenager. And, of course, Mr. Yang, with his deadly workout routines.
Anyways, back to the goals. Sitting in the men's changing room last night, a youngish chinese man greeted me (He said 'good morning' even though it was 7:30PM) and took interest in my Ipod Shuffle. I forget the words that were exchanged, but the conversation culminated in us swapping Ipods for the evening, his older shuffle model for my newer brushed steel clip. My model lacks the normal buttons of an Ipod, eschewing them in exchange for weight and size reductions, so I had to teach my new friend to us the remote control built into the headphone wire. That was an adventure in pantomime.
In the end, we swapped Ipods for the better half of the workout. It was great, I was listening to older US stuff like Linkin' Park's breakout album and some new Chinese music, while he was jamming out to Bruce Springsteen, Xavier Rudd (I recommend him highly), and about a dozen Dave Matthews albums.
Cultural exchange is not simply watching ethnic minorities practice their ancestors dances, or what they think are their ancestors dances. Culture is dirty, grimy, and in this case a little sweaty and shaped like an earphone.
Goal two, check. And, seeing as you're reading this, check off goal three, too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
