Home

This post is something that no one at home has ever heard about. Mainly, because no one has ever asked. Then again, I never offered to share this either. No one likes to ask about the end. People like to hear about the happy times and  maybe a few sad times in the middle. The sad times in the middle show growth and strength. But, it is very rare that people ask or talk about the end. Maybe it is because we as humans dislike thinking about the end, especially since it often reflects upon our own mortality. This my friends, is not a post about death. No, this is just a post about the end of my wonderful year in China. Mostly, this is a post of my feelings. This is my way of opening up and sharing. My way of healing. 
I have put off writing this post for six months now. Now it is time to heal. So, buckle up people, grab a cup of your preferred hot beverage and a snack, because this post is going to be a long one. 

My last two weeks in China were interesting. I got my grades done and submitted in time and with little to no problems. Okay, I had a hard time getting online to put them in, but once I was on, I was unstoppable. Even with the website being in a different language and kicking me off every half hour. I had two classes make me tear up on our last days together, but I refrained from really crying till my last night in China. 

See, we were leaving on a Friday for Beijing. The school required us to teach that entire week. So, I was directing classes up to 5 hours before we left for the train station. Thankfully, I had my entire apartment almost completely cleaned the few days before. Much thanks to my dear students who came over and helped. So, when I got out of class on Friday, I rushed to my apartment and did my few last minute things, eager to have the evening to myself to say goodbye at a leisurely pace. HA!

We have a saying in China, things change every day and nothing ever goes how we plan. God had a different plan for my last few hours.  A few minutes after I finished, I received a  frantic phone call from my teammate Depreena. She was WAY behind cleaning and needed help desperately. I looked heavenward and silently asked the Father why I had to do this instead of having my much needed leisure time. He reminded me that as a team, we worked together. And wouldn't I want help if I was behind? So, I put my big girl panties on and went downstairs. When I reached Depreena's apartment, I saw she was right. She had so much to do, way more than the two of us could handle. So, I called in the cavalry! That being, my two dear freshmen sisters, Bee and Jo. The phone conversations went like this.

"Hi Bee/Jo, this is Hilary!"
"Hilary! How are you? What are you doing?"
"Oh, not much. I am just helping my friend Depreena clean her apartment before we leave."
"Oh! Cleaning, do you need help? Can I come help? Please let me come help!"
"Ok sure!"
*click*

No joke. They were such good spirits about it and loved that they got to be with me. They were the ones who had helped me clean my place earlier that week, so they were getting pretty good at quick cleaning. Anyways, we got Depreena's apartment cleaned with little over 45 minutes to spare. We were machines. I don't think I have ever cleaned that fast.

 I walked through my apartment one last time. Reflecting on all the conversations and laughter that these walls had heard. Then, I hauled my two carry-on bags down the stairs. All 14 of us teachers waited downstairs for the bus to come pick us up and transport us to the train station. While we were waiting, over 50 students slowly accumulated outside our apartments to say goodbye. None of my students from my classes came to see me off, per my requests. But, the students whom I had formed friendships with, did. I was doing fine, I was okay with letting them cry on me. Then that darn bus came. I looked and saw the approaching headlights and something inside me cracked. Everything that I had been squishing down, poured out. I couldn't help it, I started crying. It was really happening. I was leaving. I tried to hide my tears, I tried to stop them, but it was all for naught. I quickly made my rounds again, hugging my dear friends tight and silently praying our Father's protection over them and that He would allow me to see them again in my lifetime.
 Jo, my sweet sister, came up and latched onto me, and we cried together till Father Dan came and told us to get our butts on the bus. I was so angry at God then. I had to isolate myself so I sat up front, put my headphones in and ignored everyone. I hate crying in front of people. And I especially hated that my team could see how raw my emotions were at that point. They had never seen me that open before and I did not like it. It was too much. I rode to the train station in anger. Anger at God, and at the world. I realized that I didn't want to leave.

I gained control of my emotions by the time we reached the train station, but I refrained from speaking to anyone till we actually boarded the train and got into our compartments. It was safer that way.

We got into Beijing around 6:30 am but had to wait at a Starbucks because we could not check into our hotel rooms till 1 pm. Slowly, all the teams began trickling in and I got to see people who I had not seen since Thailand. It was nice. I got to reconnect and share stories. By the time I was settled in my hotel room, the anger had melted away with the cool summer rain that was falling in Beijing. Coffee and a shower also helped with that too. The anger left and I was able to squish those pesky things called emotions deep down into their box they belong in. Or so I though.

We stayed in Beijing till Monday morning, which was when our flight to America was going to be. Sunday night, we had our dismissal and I felt that old feeling of emotions creeping up. We took communion together which was a beautiful thing. Well, it would have been if I wasn't such a ditz. There I was, sitting next to my friend Josh and we go to take communion. At the appropriate moment, I pop the chunk of bread into my mouth and begin chewing. It only took me a few seconds to realize something was wrong. Oh crap! I had forgotten to take my gum out of my mouth. Warm gum melded with cold bread. I began to gag a little. To save myself some embarrassment I ran to the restroom to spit out the offending wad of gum and bread mixture. Thoroughly grossed out still, I tried to be calm and maturely resume like nothing had happened. Josh, who was very observant, had witnessed the whole thing and was silently laughing when I sat down. It took all of our will power to not giggle out loud. Imagine the horror of giggling during such a serious time. So folks, don't ever chew gum when you know communion is going to be served. Communion is now officially ruined for me.
  
Later that evening, I was sitting by myself, having an internal fight with that pesky emotions box that was refusing to stay shut. My lovely team leader, Danielle, knew me very well after a year of living with me. We talked, and then it all came out. I completely lost it again. If I thought my tears a few nights before were anything, this was way different. Where before my heart cracked, that crack full on burst open and shattered something inside me. Me, the teammate who had a hard time opening up about her feelings and emotions, on the last day, finally broke down that wall. It was the most vulnerable I have ever felt. We all crowded into Danielle's room and talked, hugged and then went to bed. 

We were up early, I barely got any sleep. I think I got a total of 3 hours that night, which was going to mean a horrible day of travel for me. We arrived at the airport at 6 am Beijing time. The plane from Beijing to Hong Kong was 4 hours. I was awake and less miserable because I got to spend the entire flight next to Laura Love, my dear friend who taught in another city! We had quite a pleasant time. 

The remnant of us navigated the Hong Kong Airport with skill and ease that we had not yet possessed our first time through eleven months ago. My carry on bags were stupidly heavy, and I dared any security to search my bag. It was so packed that, if they made me unpack it, I would cry. The 15 hour flight from Hong Kong to LAX was a fast one. I was awake for the whole 15 hours and watched too many movies. But now, I began to feel excited. I was going to see my mom! When I got to LAX and through customs, I did a stupid thing. Like I said, I am an avoider. So, I avoided saying goodbye anymore. I quietly slipped away from the group and went off in search of my terminal. No one noticed, and no one missed me, so it was ok. (well, so I thought. I got scolded by a friend a week later via facebook chat for skipping out like that. Whoops.)

I still had a few more flights to go. *big sigh* I had to fly from LAX to Las Vegas, and then from Las Vegas to Florida where I would stay with my aunt and uncle and mom for a few days. The flight to Las Vegas was BORING! I had no one to talk to and my mind was swirling with emotions. I was also in a bit of shock. I could now understand EVERYONE!!! And everyone could understand me. And, there was American food EVERYWHERE!!! The first thing I bought was a sandwich and a Jamba Juice Smoothie!

By the time I got on my flight at Las Vegas, I was stir crazy. The four and a half hour flight couldn't end soon enough. Again, I was awake for the whole flight. I had never been awake for so long. When I arrived in the Florida Airport I was practically skipping down the deserted corridors. Never mind the fact that it was 2 am in America/ 3pm in China and that I had been awake for over 24 hours, I was going to see my mom!!! 
I made a turn and there was the gate, and just outside it, was my mom. My bleary eyes spotted her and she me. I don't remember much because of exhaustion, but my mom says all I kept saying was "I'm home, I'm home!" I hugged her for a very long time. We cried and then my uncle took us to their home. I was home. I was with my family. The pain and sadness I felt not 30 hours ago was gone. Well, not gone, but stuffed back into the box labeled "Pesky Emotions". They wouldn't surface till a week later when I was back in Indiana. But for then, I just was happy to be home. I would process the sadness later.

I am home now. I have an amazing job teaching at my old High School. The Father blessed me with this job and I love it. I get up everyday with the same enthusiasm I did when teaching in China. I teach mostly middle school age kids and have found that suits my personality quite well. There are days when I miss China, my students and my dear friend who shared those experiences with me, but I know that the Father has me here for a reason. Writing this post is one of the last pieces of the processing and healing puzzle. 
Ecclesiastes 3 says it best. "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. 
Well, I have been uprooted, wept and mourned. It is now the time in my life to plant myself in my life here, laugh with my friends and family, and dance the steps that God has placed in front of me. I hope to continue posting blogs about my teaching life and crazy things that happen. Because anyone who knows me, knows that where ever I go, shenanigans are bound to follow.

Peace and Love from this Sassy Owl Girl!

Students Say the Funniest Things

As all of you know, I teach Sophomores and Freshmen in university here in China. I have lately been collecting some of the things they have said either to me or to my friends. Seriously, my kids say the darnedest things!

About my Nationality:
"Teacher are you Egyptian? You look it!" (confirmed by the Arabic teacher we have here on campus who is from Egypt. "Yes, well, you look like a beautiful Egyptian")
"Teacher, are you Native American?"
"Teacher you look like Shakira! You know, half- half" (my students trying to tell me that with my tan, I look like I am half white, half Latino.)
"Are you Russian?" (taxi driver asked me if I was Russian)
And the best one yet:
"Teacher, we thought you were Indian when we meet you" (when my students first met me, they apparently thought I was from India and were confused why I was teaching English)

A funny thing that happens is that I often refer to my students as "My kids", especially my freshmen. Many students hear me talk about my "kids" and freak out until I explain that is what I call students. Honestly, I am like their mother most of the time.

Now, this week we are giving finals. The main questions I have been asking my students are Who do they admire most in their family, what makes you special, and How do they want to be remembered.

"What makes me special? Well, compared to boy, I am girl!" -(Why yes Sky, you are a girl!)
"Love is not a word, it is an action"- Remon talking about how he loves his family. Such wisdom.
"My mother thinks father is no romantic, so she always angry with him." -(Okay Lucy, perhaps too much information there!)

"You can have memory of my smell" (Ives meant to say "smile" not "smell" but those are two trouble words my students have. Ives does have a nice smile though, he always has one on his face, even when I am scolding him for speaking Chinese.)
"I don't want kids. I was naughty as child and I am afraid of a little Libra" (Libra explaining why she doesn't want kids.)

My year here is almost up. I literally have only 2 weeks left here and my heart is very sad. I will miss these beautiful young people so much. 

Hil

It's Snowing in April....

“Oh”

I never knew a two letter word could carry such disapproval. Well, not until today that is. The story goes like this. I was asked to help judge a speaking competition for my department. Sure, no problem. I needed to dress nice. Again, no problem, I dress nice anyways for teaching. But, for this event I figured I could bust out my skirts instead of my khakis.  So today, I donned my favorite brown and green plaid skirt paired with green t shirt, brown tights and my cowboy boots.

Speaking of boots, is there anything more satisfying that hearing the sound of your booted heel clipping on the ground? I think not.

I thought the outfit was well put together, until I stepped outside and the breeze caught my skirt. “Drat”

I was going to have to fight the wind all day or go back up and change into pants. Well I like my skirt too much to change, so I fought the wind. It was a valiant foe, but I do believe that I won today.

The disapproving “oh” was not uttered until lunch time, when my whole office was leaving to eat together in the dining hall. Clara and Vivian were walking a few paces behind me, but I could see out of my peripheral vision Clara looking me up and down. Automatically, I ran my hand down my skirt to make sure it was not pulled up in some place. (It has happened before) I heard her mutter something in Chinese to Vivian and I thought I caught the word for “cold”. I knew they had to be talking about me, and if I was patient, it would come out.

Sure enough, not even a minute later Clara asks “Hilary, what do you have under your leggings?”

I glanced down at my legs, which, as I stated before, were clad in thin tights.

I nervously giggled like a small child caught with its hand in the cookie jar and said “ummm, nothing.”

That was when it came. “Oh,”

So much disapproval put into one little word. I have known Clara long enough now that she feels comfortable telling me things. And once again, Hilary was getting told she was not wearing enough layers.

Following the disapproving “oh” was the usual barrage of questions if I was cold and why I was only wearing one layer. I was able to answer that no, I was not cold (well, not unbearably) and that I had forgotten to put on a second layer of leggings this morning (truth, I didn’t know it was gonna be so nippy out).

Then came the next fun part of my afternoon. Both Clara and Vivian told me that the lecture hall we would be in for the competition would be cold. In indirect Chinese speak, this was their way of telling me to go get a sweater for later. Thankfully, I am quite fluent in indirect Chinese speak, and announced that after lunch I was going to go fetch a sweater as if it had been my plan all along. My co-workers all gave each other pleased smiles which warmed my heart. They felt they had fully completed their duty in making sure their foreign office mate didn’t freeze to death. 

Their concern is so touching, and I find it sweet that they are comfortable enough to voice their opinions, even if it is in an indirect way at times.

The day was not over yet. I got told about four other times that “it was cold out” that day. All indirect ways of saying, “Girl, you need to be wearing more clothes.”

I love China!

China: At the Movies

A few weeks ago, I was treated to my first China Movie experience. I went and saw the Hobbit in 3D with some fellow American friends. It was in English with Chinese subtitles, and I had a blast! 
In America, I love going to the movies. So naturally, when my Chinese friend Kate, invited me to the movies to celebrate our friend Doris' birthday, I was excited. Movie time with friends is something I always did in high school and college.
The movie we were going to go see was Jack the Giant Killer! It was a movie that has been on my "to watch list" for quite some time. I had to teach two classes and an English corner today, so movie night with my friends was a great motivation to keep up the cheerful spirit. Our little movie-going party consisted of Kate and Doris (Chinese students) Andrew, Sydney and myself (American teachers.). We were all really excited about getting to go see a movie with friends. We got to the theater and grabbed our tickets. 

Cool thing about Chinese theaters: they assign you seats, kind of. When you purchase your tickets, you get to choose what seat number you want. American theaters really should do this! No more jockeying to get the first spot in line for midnight showings or showings of any kind. 

Anyways, we got our tickets and sat down. Though, right away Doris, Kate and I scurried off to use the ladies room before the film started. Another cool thing about Chinese movie theaters is that there is no promo film reel. It just starts the movie at the time it says on your ticket! This is slightly bad though, because I am used to America where I can run and use the bathroom during the promo reels and not worry about missing anything. 
Us girls actually ran to the restroom and ran back to the theater, much to the amusement of the workers there. We entered the theater, donned our 3D glasses and sat down. We had only missed maybe two minutes of the film. It took me a few seconds, maybe only one and then it hit me. What the people's mouths were saying was not matching up with what I was hearing. The movie Jack the Giant Killer, an American movie, was not in English. It was dubbed over in Chinese!
Sydney, who had not gone to the restroom and had figured this out already, looked at my face and laughed! Kate, the poor dear, looked horrified. She had swore that it was going to be in English because, when she bought the tickets online, it said so. Some seat re-arranging was done so that Kate and Doris were positioned to translate for us. 
Now, I had two options in front of me. Get upset that I couldn't understand what was being said, or have fun. We all chose to have fun. At first, Sydney and I made up what they were saying, dubbing it ourselves. But then, Kate and Doris after switching seats, began giving us the basics of what was being said which helped a lot. What also helped a lot was a little known skill that I have.
Some of you may know, I took American Sign Language for two years in high school and four semesters in college. (Mrs. Swank and Professr Donah, thank you so much!) When you sign, a lot of times you lip what you are signing, and I got pretty good at lip reading. So when the shots were showing the actor's mouths, I could 90% of the time correctly surmise or quote what they were saying. This was much to the amusement of Kate and Doris. What also was funny was being able to recognize the handful of Chinese words that I knew. Andrew knows more Chinese than Sydney and I do, so he was able to play the "recognize the Chinese word" game better than us.
The movie was great! I don't ever remember having that much fun at the movies. Was was really nice is that the Chinese people around us did not mind us talking, because a lot of them were talking also. 
I really enjoyed the movie. It was funny, clean and left a good feeling in our hearts. I would love to see it again! Though, perhaps next time in English.
I am praising the Father for giving us all a spirit of joy and love and for friendship in these crazy adventures.
Oh China, thank you for these wonderful adventures!
<3 Hilary

Crazy Laughter

The first week of classes is almost at an end. I had quite forgotten how much teaching takes out of me. Tuesday night, I actually went to bed at 9pm. That is shockingly early for me. Again this semester, I have a day off! Which this means I can stay up late the night before and sleep in the next day. Whoo!
My schedule this semester is pretty nice. I teach Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays. I teach an 8am class, a 1pm class and a 3pm class on Mondays and Tuesdays and then the same for Friday, but no 3pm class. Wednesdays are meetings and office hours and Thursdays, my glorious Thursdays are my clean house, grocery shopping and writing days.
Enough about my schedule, for I have some pretty funny tales to tell about my first week of school.
I love my students so much. It was pretty funny, looking back on my first day of teaching in August and comparing it to my first day of teaching this week. In August I was a bundle of nerves, worrying about what if I forgot something, what if I ran out of things to say, yadda yadda yadda. This semester, I was blessed with confidence because I knew these kids, they were mine and they knew me already. I was also blessed that I get to start my week off with my favorite class! I know, I know, I am not supposed to have favorites, but, I do. I actually have 2 favorite classes. They are the same major, just two different sections because there are so many of them. It was in this class, the second section on Tuesday, that our story takes place.
So, because I have not seen my kiddos for over 2 months and vica verca, we played a game where we shared our stories from our holiday. But, since this is an oral class, I wanted them to do more of the talking. So what I did was, I wrote on the board the names of the cities I visited, split them into groups, and had them make up stories about what they thought I did during my holiday. They were allowed to ask me questions to get ideas, but for the most part, they had to make it up. The best story came from the third group and it went like this:

So one day, our teacher, Miss Hilary went to Xi'an and visited the Terracotta Warriors. When she was there, she met the dead Emperor and he came to life. She took him with her to Chengdu and they ate hotpot together. But, the Emperor was allergic to spicy food, so he died. And Hilary was very sad. So she took a panda from a zoo with her to Kunming because she was lonely. But, in Kunming it rained every day and the panda caught a fever, and died. And Hilary was very sad. So she borrowed an elephant and rode it across a river into Thailand where she met many pretty people and had fun. The End.

As you all know, I love to laugh, and this story had me in stitches. I always try to keep my composure in class and be professional; but with certain classes, I just cannot help it. I do think though, by me laughing with them, they become more comfortable around me. So, laughter has definitely brought me closer to my students and I cannot wait to continue speaking into their lives.

Another quick funny story has to do with Hilary being a klutz. I was walking to my office the other day, minding my own business, slowly picking my way across the ice, when one minute I was standing and the next I was on the ground. Yep, major wipe out on my right side of my body. My poor right elbow, this is the third time I have landed on it and I now have a nice little bump on it and a small bruise. Needless to say, yes I was laughing my head off because it honestly was funny. My main concern was not for my body, but for my huge Tervis Owl cup my parents had sent me for Christmas. I had been holding it in my right hand and it had hit the ground pretty hard. Once I saw that it was perfectly fine, I began to laugh and whimper a little about the pain I was in. I promise, I am fine, just a little sore today from the whiplash of falling so suddenly. 

So while my internet is still behaving I am going to post this and run. 
Keep on laughing!
Hil

Pride comes before a Fail...

I knew I was in trouble when bus 120 turned left instead of going straight.

 Today, I decided that instead of taking bus 160, my tried and true bus that takes me to the downtown area, I would take bus 120. I knew bus 120 would take me to the fabric market, and I was like 90% sure it would take me to downtown also and be quicker about it too.
When we made the left hand turn I kept thinking "short cut...it has to be a short cut..." 
Sure enough, it was sort of a short cut and we went past the stop for the fabric market. It was then we made ANOTHER left hand turn instead of going straight. Uh oh! I was confused. Just the other day I had taken a bus from the fabric market to downtown and I could have sworn it was the 120....and then it hit me...I did take a bus, but it had been the 227, not the 120. I was now going down roads I had never seen before. I thought to myself  "maybe I will just ride it out and see where it takes me..." because that is always a smart idea when you know almost NO Chinese and all your friends who do, are miles and miles away. 
Seven stops later, I decide to get off. We had just crossed a bridge over the big river and I knew that because we crossed it, I was at least much closer to downtown that I would have been. I hopped off and headed towards the nearest stop light. Left, right or straight? I looked around and opted for right. It made sense. I mean, I turned left earlier, so to head back in the correct direction I should turn right, right?
Let me put things into perspective. It was 2pm in the afternoon, the temperature says it is 5 F out, but really it feels like -10. I had very few layers on because...well...because I am stupid. To top it all off, I am slightly sick. More like I just have a nasty cough that is enhanced by the freezing cold wind. 
So here I am, coughing and very cold, walking down a street that the name of looks slightly familiar but I can't be too sure. I think "this is stupid. I could wander for hours and possibly be going in the wrong direction...I am getting a taxi." For me to get a taxi, you know I am not feeling good or in a good mood. I hate getting taxis by myself for various reasons. I catch a taxi and say in my best Chinese "Guiling Lu." The driver nods his head slowly and looks at me funny, but begins driving. Then he looks at me again and asks "Guiling Lu?" while pointing straight ahead. oh crap. don't tell me.... yep. the road I wanted was literally 3 blocks ahead. Totally within walking distance. Apparently, I had a better sense of direction than I thought. Blushing, I nodded my head and got out of the cab not even 3 minutes later. Pretty sure the cab driver was thinking "silly American".
 It was withing walking distance, but my pride reasoned that I was not feeling good and it was really cold out, so the taxi was necessary....right keep telling your pride that one.
So, I get my errands done and then I am off in search for a bus to take me home. I stated that it was cold out right? Well it was now 4pm, and the sun was going down, so it was growing even colder. I didn't feel like walking the 3 blocks that it would take me to get to the 160 bus stop. Remember, the 160 is the tried and true bus that always takes me right back home. No, instead, I decided that I want to find that darn 120 bus stop. And sure enough I do. So it does go down town I thought bitterly. I would have found that out if I had been patient but what was done is done. I cross the street in search for the 120 heading back home...but I can't find it. Do I buck it up and walk the now 4 blocks to the 160 bus stop? Nope, why here is the 227. I know that will take me to the fabric market and then I can catch the 120 from there. What is a little bus change? Pleased with myself, I hop on the 227, but this time I ask the driver for sure if he goes to the fabric market. He says yes. We get to the market and I switch buses. All should be good right? Heck no. I get on the 120 and we make our way to the street I live on. I am happily daydreaming when an older Chinese man across from me asks me a question. Great...I have no clue what he just asked me...maybe he asked where I am getting off? It was the best I could come up with...So I said my school's name even though I was gonna get off at the stop after because it would be quicker to my apartment. I say my school's name and the Chinese man says something while shaking his head... uh oh....crap. I wasn't smart and didn't write down the name of the actual stop I wanted, so I had no way of telling him that the stop I really wanted was the second one from the school, not my school. The driver must have heard me say my school's name, because he dropped me off in front of my school where there is no stop. This probably means he felt bad for the poor stupid foreigner. The thing is, where he dropped me off is smack dab in the middle from either possible entrance. You can't really enter from the real front of the school, you have to use the side or back entrance....and I was in the middle of both of those. So, while grumbling under my breath at my stupid pride, I hoofed it to the back entrance. 

My lesson? Write down the darn pinyin of the stops you want so you don't end up walking a bunch in the freezing cold weather. My pride was in the fact that I had the characters copied down and obviously I would never get lost with those....but I can't read/pronounce characters.
The Father was gracious in providing me with a decent sense of direction and the ability to catch transportation that would take me where I needed. But from now on, I will just take bus 160, the bus that actually goes to where I need. The Father was also gracious in providing me a lesson in humility and patience.

Well, that was my China adventure for the day. I am grateful I can look back and giggle at my sillyness. Now I am off to go make dinner and a nice big mug of hot chocolate. I definitely earned it.