This Saturday we took a trip with a student to visit her hometown of Qin'an. I talked to her briefly during the semester, and overall we had an excellent time with her family.
These are the events of Saturday:
At 9 AM, we went over to the apartment of a recently-moved international teacher to take his computer to use in our apartment. What happened to our laptop, you ask? It died on New Years' Day. I do wonder if this is some sort of omen that I should look more into, or just coincidence. In any case, the laptop will soon be on its way back to the US for warranty-covered repair. For now we have to deal with either the internet bar (convenient, and has Microsoft Office installed), or the 4-color, all-pirated software computer that semi-works in our apartment. Luckily, we're headed out next week on some pre-training conference vacation.
At 10 AM we waited for our student May at the bus stop by the main square. At about 10:15 a different student emerged from a bus to tell us that May (whose family we were to visit) was running 10 minutes late. The four of us made it to the long-distance bus station at about 10:45, at which point we got in a mostly-formed line to catch the 45-minute bus to Qin'an. The bus held only 10 people, so we figured we'd get on one of the next 2 buses. We bought tickets from an agent who counted the next 10 in line, which included the 4 of us. After 10 minutes, another bus pulled in but stopped in a different place about 50 feet to our right. After the people from Qin'an debarked, we saw some desperate people rush the bus and sit down, though they hadn't yet bought tickets. We walked on over, knowing they were in our seats. Some angry ticket agents boarded the mini-bus and yelled at the people to get off, almost grabbing an old man by his jacket to get him off. Eventually they got off and the agent slammed the door. May kept looking back at me and laughing nervously, as this did not bode well for saving face. I smiled as much as I could and told her it didn't matter, because it didn't. May walked up slowly and showed him that we had 4 valid tickets, so we got on, and arranged ourselves: bags on top of bodies on top of left-over mazi, or small seeds, that people eat during travel. The line of people waiting to go to Qin'an had grown to about 40 people, from our vantage point on the bus.
We pulled out near 11 AM, and then promptly pulled over outside of the bus station to load 4 more passengers and a puppy in a box. The passengers sat on collapsible stools in the aisle; the puppy was in a cardboard box behind our seats. We found this strange given the other 40 people waiting in line in 30 degree (F) weather at the bus station. The explanation: those people "did not want to wait in the bus station," but they still paid their 10 yuan, and on we went. Before turning the corner to get on the highway, we pulled over yet again, all this taking place to loud puppy barking right behind our seats. The bus driver hopped out, along with our newly acquired passengers, and he put them in a cab. We were told that he was afraid the police would see the illegal passengers and he'd be fined. So, back he came, pushed the collapsible stools down, and off we went.
Around the corner there was indeed a brief inspection of papers and a glance inside the bus. The on-ramp to the highway was preceded by a short bridge with decent-sized shoulder. Here, the passengers who had been put in the taxi before the checkpoint re-boarded and settled in for the ride. About 5 minutes later, in the middle of pleasant conversation, we felt something nuzzling our legs. The puppy had escaped. He wandered around for a few minutes, then settled down under the seats in front of us for a quiet ride. May told me that she hadn't told her roommates that we were going to her home, explaining that they would have been jealous, and would have wanted to come along. Eight students, all trying to speak with Nick and me, would have been dizzying, and who knows how long May's mother would've had to slave to prepare us all a welcoming lunch. She said if she had told them, but asked them not to come, that they would have been extremely offended. I'm not sure what I would have done either.
We arrived in Qin'an, and hopped in a 3-wheeled (car) taxi. I guess this particular taxi wasn't used to 4 passengers, so when the driver hit the gas, it sounded like an off-kilter washing machine, and felt like one too. The whole thing rattled and it took us a good 3 minutes to get up to bicycle speed. The house was close. Rather, the path to walk to the house was close. We got out and started up a dirt path between brick walls, with some runoff along the side in a ditch. I thought the house might be right up the hill. At the top of the hill began the maze. Between brick walls we first made a right, a left, a right, a left, and then a series of rights to come to an open door at a dead end of one of these paths. I couldn't have done it again if I tried.
May's family was especially hospitable, ushering us into the small living room/bedroom with a stove in the middle to keep it warm. The house in itself was nice; it reminded me of the Salazars' house in Leon, Nicaragua. It had a good-sized courtyard with a garden area surrounded by 4 concrete rooms with open doorways. They had sheets for doors. The kitchen was somewhat large, with lots of counter space for rolling dough and making breads. I only stuck my head in briefly, but I saw all of the ingredients and implements for making the dumplings and steamed bread that we had for lunch. The other rooms were a storage room and an additional bedroom, though that one wasn't in use because it didn't have a stove. The most interesting part of the courtyard was the large satellite-shaped reflector dish in the middle. It looked like a mosaic of 1"x1" mirrors aligned on a 4-foot wide dish with a rack in the middle. In summer it was used to boil water and sometimes make flat bread. You could also rotate and tilt the dish to aim it more towards the sun. Talk about using energy well. I thought you had to use solar panels for that kind of thing; turns out you can do it with a hand-made mirrored dish as well. The outhouse was off to one side of the courtyard, and kept neat by a wooden cover placed over the hole when not in use.
This house was quite different from the house where we stayed in Chengdu. In cities there is very little single-family housing, but in the smaller cities, in the outskirts, there are plenty of single-family houses with courtyards. We had to fill out evaluation forms before leaving training, and one of the questions was something like "How has the home stay experience prepared you to transition to a more independent lifestyle at your site?" I wrote that I didn't know; I felt like in Chengdu we had so many Western-type conveniences that it was hard for me to feel as though I had prepared for a change in lifestyle at all. (My overall answer was "Yes!" because the investment of our host family in talking to us every day and taking us places was the most help we received to be able to live in China successfully.)
Lunch at May's house was wonderful. Before lunch we were asked to sit and served some hors d'oeuvres, or snacks of oranges, bananas, sunflower seeds (guazi), smaller seeds (mazi), and larger roasted beans (literally - dadou means "big beans"). Her father made us some really sweet tea from leaves, sugar, and dried figs; it was so sweet I had to drink it slowly! May told us that her father could play a vertical flute-like instrument, so she brought it to him. It was crafted from a bamboo shoot about 3 feet long with an open end and 5 openings along the top. He was quite skilled, and he played us various traditional Chinese songs, one of which we knew from training: Kang ding qing ge. After he had played a few songs, May took the flute outside and poured boiling water through it. This made me recoil after years of playing in school bands - I thought surely this was a strange cleaning method that would cause the bamboo to swell, and the whole instrument to break! However, it clarified the sound slightly, and everything was fine.
The meal itself was even better than the first course. We had a large plate of cold beef and tofu to share, seasoned with peppers and cilantro.
There were large steamed rolls available too. Each of us got a large bowl of dumplings and pepper sauce for flavor. We sat around and talked for about an hour, and tried to finish the food. After lunch we went outside to take some pictures; their film wasn't loading right into their camera, so we used our digital camera to take some pictures. May showed us her family's photo album after that; all the pictures were great. She offered us some wonderful pictures of local sites in summer time; leaves aglow with color. The pictures I really loved were the ones of her grandparents and her as a child growing up in a rapidly changing China.
After lunch we made a trip to the local market, to a museum, and then back to the bus station. The market was great; it looked like a flea market in the states, though with better merchandise and more helpful shop assistants. We saw everything from pipes to socks to fabrics, and even underwear with a pocket on the front for storing valuables ... like money. We bought some candles and a headscarf (to be used as a tablecloth).
After the market was a walk to the local museum. All along this trip, and especially in the market, we were greeted with surprised exclamations of "Waiguoren!" or "Foreigner!" which was funny at first, then got old. May's father was gracious in his infinite ability to explain that we were American teachers. At times, it almost sounded like bragging. I think 80% of the shop owners of the 100+ stalls we passed asked about us, stared, and some followed for a little while. It was the same on the street. We had to stop for a minute and wait by a hardware seller, so Nick was asking him what some large steel staple-shaped things were for - we ascertained that they were in fact large steel staples for construction, and I think we also helped the seller to realize how human we are; not just a foreign freak walking through the town. The museum was wonderful. Just north of the town is an area where an ancient people called 'Dadiwan' once made their home. There were many artifacts such as pottery, tools, bronze mirrors, and Buddha statues on display, as that area was a main stop on the route that Buddhism took from India through China. My favorite was a 1-foot tall statue of a horse and rider made from yellow/orange jade. On a side note, the museum wasn't actually open. May's father knew the curator, so we had a private tour.
After the museum we walked to the bus station, and once again were denied when we tried to pay the fare back to Tianshui. The Chinese custom of hospitality, and sheer quantity of it, makes me uncomfortable and happy all at the same time. The only thing we were allowed to pay for the entire day was the 3-yuan head scarf. We had a great ride back; only a few passengers in the aisle of the bus, and we arrived quickly. We are welcome back any time, and we might go. The family, and the day, were great fun.
We arrived in Qin'an, and hopped in a 3-wheeled (car) taxi. I guess this particular taxi wasn't used to 4 passengers, so when the driver hit the gas, it sounded like an off-kilter washing machine, and felt like one too. The whole thing rattled and it took us a good 3 minutes to get up to bicycle speed. The house was close. Rather, the path to walk to the house was close. We got out and started up a dirt path between brick walls, with some runoff along the side in a ditch. I thought the house might be right up the hill. At the top of the hill began the maze. Between brick walls we first made a right, a left, a right, a left, and then a series of rights to come to an open door at a dead end of one of these paths. I couldn't have done it again if I tried.
May's family was especially hospitable, ushering us into the small living room/bedroom with a stove in the middle to keep it warm. The house in itself was nice; it reminded me of the Salazars' house in Leon, Nicaragua. It had a good-sized courtyard with a garden area surrounded by 4 concrete rooms with open doorways. They had sheets for doors. The kitchen was somewhat large, with lots of counter space for rolling dough and making breads. I only stuck my head in briefly, but I saw all of the ingredients and implements for making the dumplings and steamed bread that we had for lunch. The other rooms were a storage room and an additional bedroom, though that one wasn't in use because it didn't have a stove. The most interesting part of the courtyard was the large satellite-shaped reflector dish in the middle. It looked like a mosaic of 1"x1" mirrors aligned on a 4-foot wide dish with a rack in the middle. In summer it was used to boil water and sometimes make flat bread. You could also rotate and tilt the dish to aim it more towards the sun. Talk about using energy well. I thought you had to use solar panels for that kind of thing; turns out you can do it with a hand-made mirrored dish as well. The outhouse was off to one side of the courtyard, and kept neat by a wooden cover placed over the hole when not in use.
This house was quite different from the house where we stayed in Chengdu. In cities there is very little single-family housing, but in the smaller cities, in the outskirts, there are plenty of single-family houses with courtyards. We had to fill out evaluation forms before leaving training, and one of the questions was something like "How has the home stay experience prepared you to transition to a more independent lifestyle at your site?" I wrote that I didn't know; I felt like in Chengdu we had so many Western-type conveniences that it was hard for me to feel as though I had prepared for a change in lifestyle at all. (My overall answer was "Yes!" because the investment of our host family in talking to us every day and taking us places was the most help we received to be able to live in China successfully.)
Lunch at May's house was wonderful. Before lunch we were asked to sit and served some hors d'oeuvres, or snacks of oranges, bananas, sunflower seeds (guazi), smaller seeds (mazi), and larger roasted beans (literally - dadou means "big beans"). Her father made us some really sweet tea from leaves, sugar, and dried figs; it was so sweet I had to drink it slowly! May told us that her father could play a vertical flute-like instrument, so she brought it to him. It was crafted from a bamboo shoot about 3 feet long with an open end and 5 openings along the top. He was quite skilled, and he played us various traditional Chinese songs, one of which we knew from training: Kang ding qing ge. After he had played a few songs, May took the flute outside and poured boiling water through it. This made me recoil after years of playing in school bands - I thought surely this was a strange cleaning method that would cause the bamboo to swell, and the whole instrument to break! However, it clarified the sound slightly, and everything was fine.
The meal itself was even better than the first course. We had a large plate of cold beef and tofu to share, seasoned with peppers and cilantro.
There were large steamed rolls available too. Each of us got a large bowl of dumplings and pepper sauce for flavor. We sat around and talked for about an hour, and tried to finish the food. After lunch we went outside to take some pictures; their film wasn't loading right into their camera, so we used our digital camera to take some pictures. May showed us her family's photo album after that; all the pictures were great. She offered us some wonderful pictures of local sites in summer time; leaves aglow with color. The pictures I really loved were the ones of her grandparents and her as a child growing up in a rapidly changing China.After lunch we made a trip to the local market, to a museum, and then back to the bus station. The market was great; it looked like a flea market in the states, though with better merchandise and more helpful shop assistants. We saw everything from pipes to socks to fabrics, and even underwear with a pocket on the front for storing valuables ... like money. We bought some candles and a headscarf (to be used as a tablecloth).
After the market was a walk to the local museum. All along this trip, and especially in the market, we were greeted with surprised exclamations of "Waiguoren!" or "Foreigner!" which was funny at first, then got old. May's father was gracious in his infinite ability to explain that we were American teachers. At times, it almost sounded like bragging. I think 80% of the shop owners of the 100+ stalls we passed asked about us, stared, and some followed for a little while. It was the same on the street. We had to stop for a minute and wait by a hardware seller, so Nick was asking him what some large steel staple-shaped things were for - we ascertained that they were in fact large steel staples for construction, and I think we also helped the seller to realize how human we are; not just a foreign freak walking through the town. The museum was wonderful. Just north of the town is an area where an ancient people called 'Dadiwan' once made their home. There were many artifacts such as pottery, tools, bronze mirrors, and Buddha statues on display, as that area was a main stop on the route that Buddhism took from India through China. My favorite was a 1-foot tall statue of a horse and rider made from yellow/orange jade. On a side note, the museum wasn't actually open. May's father knew the curator, so we had a private tour.
After the museum we walked to the bus station, and once again were denied when we tried to pay the fare back to Tianshui. The Chinese custom of hospitality, and sheer quantity of it, makes me uncomfortable and happy all at the same time. The only thing we were allowed to pay for the entire day was the 3-yuan head scarf. We had a great ride back; only a few passengers in the aisle of the bus, and we arrived quickly. We are welcome back any time, and we might go. The family, and the day, were great fun.
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