Blog

You never know what to expect, but you can always expect it to happen.

Just about a week ago we were sitting around the lunch table in various moods (as often happens after a full morning of riding) and I wasn’t feeling particularly like putting myself out there in terms of talking to Chinese with my limited vocabulary. The half-finished discussion lingered on the table next to the mostly-finished dishes that now had a few strands swimming in liquid flavour. We were trying to figure out what we should do for the evening; do we stay here, or move on? This is a common discussion, but it invariably involves opinions, which, as anyone from Minnesota understands, are incredibly uncomfortable and risky things. Some had been aired, and there was a pensive silence mingling with the sedative effect of a full stomach and tired legs.

“Hello, where are you from?” asked an eager voice approaching from my left. I must confess, I wasn’t thrilled. Trying to juggle people’s opinions at nap time usually leaves little room in my personal space for sudden violations, and inwardly I groaned while forcing a smile.

Eddy turned out to be pleasant enough as he pulled up a chair. He was an English teacher, and spoke well, which made conversation much easier. Besides that, he was pretty relaxed.

“Are you teaching today?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“When do you teach?”

“Two Thirty.”

I looked up at the clock on the wall. Two Twenty-Seven. Hmmm. He made no signs of moving, but once again proffered his offer to have us visit the middle school where he taught. Well, a decision was in order and we decided we would stay here and try to call Eddie when we were settled into a place. Okay. He started off on his motorcycle, and about thirty seconds later followed a parade of students returning from their afternoon siesta break.

Even though we were tired, Nakia, Peter, and I felt fairly “chippier” after putting down our bags and showering off the road dust, so we moved down the street in good spirits. I also have to say Eddy’s smile and easy going nature was warming me up to this uncertain possibility of “visiting” a school. (As anyone who has gone to a school in China knows, it’s rarely just a visit. Peter Hessler in Rivertown tells about his experience at a college in central China where he and his fellow teacher walked into a formal gathering while preparing to go out for a run. Before they knew it they were both on stage next to the most important members present in their running shorts, wondering about the speeches they were expected to make.) Just in case, we brought along the instruments.

When we walked by the windows to Eddy’s class a loud murmur passed through the students. I was first, followed by Nakia, and then Peter. When Peter passed (6′ 7″ tall) the murmur rose to a roar of “WOAH!” For a few moments we smiled awkwardly at these attentive and excited students, and then introduced ourselves. They were excellent hosts, and gave us much encouragement through “ooh’s” and “aaah’s”. Our rendition of “Helplessly Hoping” got such a warm applause it almost equalled the amazed response that Peter once again elicited upon standing up.

Through it all Eddy guided and smiled from the sidelines. Then he led us out to the courtyard to answer questions and sign autographs for what must have been hundreds of 7th-9th grade students. They were very polite if not embarrassed, and incredibly curious. One of the other English teachers explained that we were the very first foreigners to visit this school, so it was an honor to have us. I was embarrassed and humbled. “The honor’s mine,” I thought, as I tried to sign as many autographs as fast as I could only because I was a foreigner.

After leaving Peter in a clump of students like a tree growing out of a shrubbery patch, still signing autographs, Eddy invited us to come out later for some “local specialties.” We agreed, and were treated to a night of snails, special pork ribs, sweet potatoes, greens, shrimp, and sizzling steak slices. Some of the other department came out as well, including Eddy’s wife Jenny. All spoke excellent English and the conversation was a nice break from my usual simple explanations.

I was glad Eddy had interrupted us at lunch the day before, and as I shook his hand good night, I felt like I really did hope to see him again. Who knows. I remembered my poor humor on the day I met him, and how close I was to refusing his offer to visit the school. I was tired, after all. The thing is, this stuff happens more often than not, if we’re ready to put ourselves out for it. Sometimes it is tiring, but always seems to be rewarding.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 17th, 2007 at 8:04 am and is filed under Drew's Posts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.