Another Chinese Haircut

Before

Yesterday I ventured out with the trusty, ever-fashionable Jessie to get my hair trimmed.  She decided that the guy that did my last haircut wasn't satisfactory (although I thought he was fine), so she called around and found someone who has "a lot of experience cutting foreigners' hair."  Puzzling, in a town where very few foreigners settle long enough to ever need a haircut, but it turns out he did cut a few of the American teachers' hair last year.

This stylist was a young guy with a Chinese-style afro, whom Jessie described as "a little eccentric."

I told him what I wanted:  My same hairstyle, but about an inch shorter.

Throughout the haircut, he kept suggesting small changes:  How about we angle the front up a little toward your chin?  How about we add a few layers here?  Is this too short?  I went along with each suggestion and pretty soon had a different haircut altogether, about 2 or 3 inches shorter than the original.  At the end of the cut, he revealed a picture of a cute Asian girl with exactly the same cut.

He knew all along where he was going, but for some reason never showed me the picture in the first place.  The artiste was making his vision a reality without needing to ask or inform the customer in advance.  He instructed me that I must come back every month and he will consult with me about my hair and help me find some new styles.

There is actually a cultural nugget in here.  In China, you are the expert of your own field and take it upon yourself to advise others freely.  For example, I have friends whose cleaning helper will not change the pillowcases weekly, as requested, because in her experience she does not think they need to be changed so often.  Everyone's an expert in something!

Other highlights:

• My stylist kept one of his blow dryers on the floor.
• He occasionally stored his comb in his China-fro when not using in on my hair.
• I kept getting chided to sit up straighter and stop moving.
• It only cost 10 RMB.  Less than $2.

I'm not too picky about my hair, so experiences like these are always fun and entertaining.  I like Chinese haircuts!

Earthquake Relief

You've heard about the recent earthquake in Qinghai province.  I've never been to Qinghai, but one day I'd like to.  You can experience the breathtaking views and high altitudes of the Tibetan plateau ("the roof of the world"), mix with people of several ethnic backgrounds, and get a taste of Tibet without actually going there.   Qinghai is a long journey away from my home in Shandong province.

Please remember Qinghai in their ongoing earthquake recovery.  You can donate here to World Vision's Earthquake Relief (including Haiti, China, and other projects).

Night on the Train

I just got back from a quick trip to Beijing with my friend Sara, a fellow teacher who lives in Rizhao.  We are both on small teams in relatively small towns, so we wanted a weekend to see friends, do some shopping, and go to Sunday service.

We took a night train home, as I usually do when traveling from Beijing, and I invite you to share the experience with me now:

The Setting:  Four bed sleeper compartment; luggage and IKEA bags on the floor, people on the beds.

The Cast: 
Alison and Sara, two sleepy American English teachers
Man1 and Man2, two middle-aged Chinese men in suits.

Scene 1:  11:00 pm.  Sara and I sit cross-legged on our beds eating Oreos and studying Chinese.  Man1 and Man2 arrive in the compartment, take of their shoes, and climb to their upper berths.  They stretch out on their beds and commence falling asleep.  The train departs. 

Scene 2:  11:45 pm.  Sara and I finally realize the lights don't shut off automatically.  Finding the light switch, we switch off the light and cuddle in.

11:46 pm.  Snoring detected. 

11:47-12:30:  Sara appears to be sleeping.  Man2 is definitely sleeping, unless he is the sort of gentleman who breathes like a saw while awake. I futilely try to listen to the rumble of train on tracks below instead of the rumble of Man2 above.

12:30 am:  I remember the earplugs that I've carried around since coming to Asia.  A quick search in the purse reveals nothing.  Drat!  Took them out last week, for no good reason. 

1:30 am:  If I'm going to be awake, I might as well be doing something.  I flip on my reading light and start studying Chinese.  Man1 above is apparently awake.  I can hear him sipping water.  He can hear me eating cookies.  I selfishly crunch louder in hopes of awaking the snoring Man2.

2:00 am - 3:00 am:  Tossing and turning.  I learn that putting my fingers in my ears provides temporarily relief, but my arm falls over as soon as I nod off.

3:38 am:  Still awake.  I decide to search for earplugs once more.  I unzip my bag, fumble, around, reach in, and retrieve... Yes!  My hot pink ear plugs.  In they go; peace at last.

Scene 3:  3:38 am - 7:00 am.  Sweet slumber.

Epilogue:  In my night-time fumblings for snacks, books, and earplugs, I somehow knocked an important card off the table.  It is the card that the conductor gives you in exchange for your ticket, so he knows your destination and can awaken you before you arrive.  The conductor came at 7:15 to collect the card and tell me we were near Qufu, but alas!  It was nowhere to be found.  He stood wordlessly in the doorway while I rifled through bags, looked in my shoes, lifted up everything around me, and put it down again.  Eventually I was belly-flat on the floor looking under the bed, where that pesky little card was found at last.  Ah, embarassing.

"It's All-Consuming"

Tonight I happened upon a rock climbing article on matador.com (a travel website).  The article is about a couple of guys and their quest to figure out a new climbing route up Yosemite's El Capitan mountain.  The article has tons of jargon, but if you have three minutes, watch the video. 

They have put a collective four years into this project.  One of them is climber Kevin Jorgeson, who says:

Honestly, this is my future. Mescalito is all I can think about right now. It’s all-consuming. If I don’t focus all of my energy into it, I won’t succeed. I don’t have the background of El Cap free climbing that Tommy does. I’m having to change my climbing style a lot to adapt to this new challenge. I love it, but it requires that I focus all of time and energy on this. I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Aside from being a cool story, it made me think.  I give a mediocre effort to most things in my life (my walk with God, ministry, Chinese study, exercise, teaching, writing, friendship).  What if I approached them with the same passion, discipline, courage, hard work, and joy as these guys approach that impossible looking cliff? 

A Qufu Easter in Pictures

Gaudy Gaudí

This is Antoni Gaudí:

He was a Spanish architect whose masterpiece was the Sagrada Familia cathedral in Barcelona.  Construction began in 1882 and eventually stopped when the funding dried up.  In 1936 the only remaining blueprint was destroyed, making it difficult to faithfully fulfill Gaudí's vision, although construction apparently has re-started in recent years.  Here's the cathedral:

I learned some interesting stuff about Gaudí while cruising Wikipedia just now.  He died when he was run over by a tram at age 73, looking so raggedy that no cabs would pick him up, and finally people walking by helped him to a pauper's hospital.  


Today one of my students mentioned that she liked Western culture, so I asked her why.  Of course, I already knew the answer: She likes the fancy-free, romantic lives of the beautiful people she sees on American TV. 


I was wrong.  Vivian told me she likes Western culture because she likes the architecture, the art, the literature and the music.  She admires Gaudí.  She enjoys symphonies.  She made some very sophisticated comparisons between Chinese and Western classical music, using Beethoven's 5th symphony as an example (her thought: Chinese classical music sounds "flat" while symphonies sound "3D").  She is particularly interested in the era between the French Revolution and the Industrial Revolution.


Now, I am an educated person and so are you.  How many Chinese novels can we name?  Which Chinese architects do we admire?  Shoot, how many Western  architects can we name?  The only one I can think of right now is Gaudí, and the only "fact" I knew about him was that his name is the origin of our word "gaudy."  (Even this turns out not to be true.)


Here are my two points:


1) Our Western cultural heritage is rich.  Why do we let it languish in libraries and history books while we watch the next episode of America's Next Top Model? (Guilty here.)  Why does my non-Western 21-year-old student have a better grasp of Western fine arts than I do?

2) Most of my students are fascinated by the West because of Hollywood culture.  My student's answer was deeper and more thoughtful, and it made me glad to see that at least some Chinese are picking up on aspects of my culture that have nothing to do with Prison Break and Gossip Girl.  


I wish I could spend more Sunday afternoons sitting at the table with a bowl of strawberries talking about Beethoven's Fifth and gaudy Gaudí.

A Chinese Language First

I had my first telephone conversation in Chinese tonight.

It's always been my opinion that second languages and phones don't go together.  When I studied Spanish in high school and college, I never got to the point where I felt confident on the phone, in spite of being perfectly capable of a face-to-face conversation.  I've also had dozens of misunderstandings with international friends over the past few years that have arisen from them having to speak their second language, English, on the phone with me.

Here's a little bit of trivia that they told us in telemarketing training: Only around 40% of our communication is conveyed through words.  The rest is through facial expression, body language, and tone of voice, so you have to work doubly hard to get a point across on the phone.  (Did you know I was once I telemarketer?  Well, now you know.)

My phone call tonight was from the guy at the train ticket office, and it went like this:

Me:  Hello?

Train guy:  Wei, ni hao.

Me (in Chinese now): Sorry, I don't speak Chinese.

Train guy:  A whole bunch of Chinese.  Did he say something about my train ticket being ready?

Me:  Tomorrow?

Train guy:  More Chinese.  Too much Chinese to be agreeing with my idea that I come tomorrow.

Me:  Now?

Train guy:  A little bit of Chinese.  Agreement, perhaps?

Me:  I come now.

Train guy:  More Chinese.  I caught the word "now."

Me:  Good, good.  Thanks, thanks!

Train guy:  Zai jian.

So I grabbed my keys and tripped off to his office, where he was waiting with my train tickets to Beijing next week.  It wasn't pretty, but my first phone conversation in Chinese ended in success.

Good Friday

"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God."
-2 Corinthians 5:21, NIV