Tender Taiyuan Christmas

 Several times during the previous months--before I came to China, even--I remember dreading Christmas. I knew homesickness would be hard this year in general, but I was certain that being away for Christmas would be killer. 

I was ready. I armed myself with ways to deal with sad thoughts and loneliness. I expected to have at least one good episode of sobbing with a weepy song playing in the background sometime during the month of December. 

You know what the Father did, though? He made me busy. Somewhere in the midst of Christmas lessons, Christmas parties, English Festival practice, shopping, and living life in the freezing cold, December flew by without time to think about missing things back home. 

You know what else? Christmas was really FUN.

On Christmas Eve, I came home from school cold and grumpy to find this: 

 

Yeah. My roommates covered my entire room in Santa Claus. He definitely watched me while I was sleeping and I even found him in my sock drawer.

That night was the school English Festival. We danced to a mash-up of What Makes You Beautiful and Call Me Maybe. I got to be a man (let's hold back on the man-jokes, please) and felt like a rock star. The performance was awesome and we were so popular, in fact, that they asked us to perform at the 6th grade performance as well and we got THREE rounds of applause.

Team Taiyuan. 

Don't call us, maybe. It could cost you a lot of money. 

Then. 

It was here. 

 Christmas.

The day started a little sad, with a song dad plays on Christmas running through my head as I woke up. But then we had breakfast, and as everyone knows, food makes everything better. 

 

 

Then Susie read us the Christmas story because you HAVE to read the Christmas story before you...you know...OPEN PRESENTS. 

 Which, of course, is what we did next.

 

Guess who got to play Santa.

 

 

Then ensued the ecstasy of Christmas present joy. 

 

Giggles, smiles, squeals of delight, and lots of China fabulous gifts. 

The rest of the day was filled with Christmas movies and fifty million chocolate crinkle cookies and being lazy in Susie's apartment. 

 Natalie and I also took some time to make Susie's facebook horse-themed while she was out spreading cheer to our Chinese co-workers. It was a smashing success.

Merry Christmas, Susie. 

Finally, I got to skype the family and open the package they sent me. Dad was out being a superhero and delivering babies, but I did get to sing Christmas carols with Mom and annoy the snot of out Audrey and Daniel.

That night before bed I read a booklet Mom had put together--copies of pages from some of my favorite Christmas story books. That was when I did cry, but only a little, and only because I have a loving family that's worth shedding tears over missing. 

It was a wonderful Christmas, though. 

A Tender Taiyuan Christmas, indeed. 

He Always Works

In case I haven't already mentioned it, here in Taiyuan we like to help out with something called Taiyuan Teens. It's kind of like a youth group/English corner for kids of all ages. It's fun because we get to hang out with kids and see other Chinese people our age--the Chinese university student volunteers. 

Basically, it's a chance to see the Father at work somewhere else in the city every other Saturday afternoon.

 

Last Saturday I was really excited about it. It was a chance to share more about the Christmas story with the kids. We had this really awesome video that we were going to show them, we were going to spark good conversation, la-de-da. 

 

Then Saturday afternoon came around and we embarked on the bus-trek-then-walk across the city facing the Siberian winds. And all I could think was 

It'scold.

It'scold.

It'sreallyreallycold.

And my attitude plummeted. 

Then we got there and found out that the power was out. Which means the elevator was out. Which meant climbing the stairs up to the 16th floor. 

My attitude continued to be swayed by the circumstances. 

But THEN we got there and had Chinese lessons with some of the volunteers. It was REALLY COOL because I'm finally starting to pick up Chinese. The random sounds are becoming words that my untrained mouth is beginning to be able to imitate. 

Anyway, I digress. 

At dinnertime, the power was still out, which meant climbing the stairs again to go get dinner. Which meant that by the time Taiyuan Teens started, I had a stomachache and couldn't stop coughing from all the stairs/food. Also, we were having Taiyuan Teens in candlelight. And in my head I was thinking How will we get across the message if we can't play the video? How is He going to work? I knew He still would because He reminded me that He could during my lessons last week (see last post). 

The message was given and then it was time to sing songs. I got picked to lead, which meant explaining all the songs ("Silent Night", "We Wish You a Merry Christmas", and "Go Tell it on the Mountain") and then singing them loud enough for everyone to understand. 

That's when I knew He was at work. 

My explanations of the song weren't perfect, but I knew the words coming out of my mouth weren't all mine. He was there, in the candlelight, in the faces of the kids, in the eyes of the boy's father who was holding a candle next to my face. He was there in the hard-to-pronounce words, in the smiles of the volunteers, and in my lungs that managed to quit coughing long enough for me to sing. He was there, working without a video or electricity or instruments. 

We sang the chorus of "Go Tell it on the Mountain" so many times that I know it's stuck in the kids' heads. They loved it. And it will carry a seed long after I leave Taiyuan. 

Once again, I saw that He works in all circumstances, regardless of attitude or plans. 

 

He works with no available hotel rooms, no cradle, and no special newborn blankets. 

He works with smelly men who look after sheep and rich men who read the stars. 

He works with attitudes and hearts that we think will never change. 

 

He always works.

My Christmas Lesson

Christmas is coming. 

Which means that this week, it was time to do our Christmas lessons. 

We had been looking forward to doing this since September because it was the chance to finally share the most important part of our lives in a legitimate way in the classroom. Not preachy, just sharing the history of Christmas. 

Which means, of course, that this week happened to be the most hectic one in the semester. 

Our team leader said that something always seems to come up around Christmas and Easter, when we are sharing these important history lessons with our classes. 

Coincidence? Hm. Maybe, maybe not. 

Anyway, this time around it was the semesterly English Festival that the students were practicing for. This meant cancelled classes, students missing from classes, co-teachers not being in classes to translate for us, people coming in and out of the classroom--you name it, the interruption happened. 

I had been expecting this, so before I started teaching the lessons I asked the Father extra hard for Hid presence to be evident in the classroom. The result? AMAZING. Seven out of eight of my classes went gloriously. The distractions kept coming, yet the kids were attentive and the teachers were engaged in translating. They loved the story, loved singing Go Tell it on the Mountain (which one of my co-teachers downloaded from me to use for herself), loved setting up a Nativity in class, and I felt awesome. Like, whoa. It was so cool. 

Then it was time to teach Class 15. 

Class 15 is the thorn-in-my-side class. Yes, I still love the babies in it. No, I don't love teaching them.

Classroom management in my situation is already tricky as it is. I'm not the Chinese teacher, which means that I can't call home, send them to an office, or give them real consequences for their behavior. I can't even verbally correct without someone to translate.

What I can do is hit or humiliate, neither of which is my style. 

And Class 15 is a push-all-your-buttons kind of class.

It started out well enough. My co-teacher translated the lesson for me, the kids were engaged, and I felt like I was flying free. Then it came time to learn the song...and suddenly my co-teacher was gone. Out the door, no warning, gone. In any other class, I'd have been able to handle it, but in about ten seconds there was a palpable switch in the atmosphere. 

Which is when all hell broke loose as it never has before in that class.

After class was over (eons and EONS later), I walked back down the stairs to the office while fighting back tears and talking to the Father. 

WHY did that happen in THIS lesson? I wanted to share you! I wanted them to hear! I want to connect with them and love them but it's NOT happening! I ASKED you to help me out!

His answer was soft. 

Those who were supposed to hear, heard. 

Which is when I was reminded that everything is His prerogative, not mine. Touching hearts is not my job, because I am not the Creator of hearts.  My job is to share love and see how far it goes. 

I told the story. 

I didn't yell or hit when they were being crazy. 

I'm sure something better could've been done in that situation, but what happened was not outside of His plan or control. 

As is everything that happens in my life.

My Random Babies

I haven't said a whole lot about my students here recently. 

Mostly this blog's been "Here's My Life and it's Funny Things and Problems BlaBlaBla". 

But I suppose my students are pretty important, since they are my job and the reason why I'm here. 

I guess I was waiting for a cohesive subject or theme to write about on them, but with Asian second graders nothing is terribly coherent or connected. So I'm going to use the random method. 

..........
 

I have eight classes. 

Class 12 and Class 16 are my smartest classes and they love me to pieces. Class 19 also loves me to pieces, but is...not my smartest class (they try really hard!). Class 15 seems to have a vendetta against me and gives me stomachaches. Class 13 mischievous but manageable. Class 18 doesn't care a whole lot about my presence. Class 14 worships the ground I walk on and Class 17 is the definition of spunky. 

I've got most of their names down by now, even though they themselves may never learn them.

Class 19 has started calling me "Miss Mommy". This trend was started by Grace and Amy, who blow me kisses in the hallway whenever I see them. 

Cooper from Class 15 will NOT stop poking my butt whenever I walk by. 

The English festival is coming up on the week of Christmas, so the classes that are performing really need to practice. A few weeks ago, one of my co-teachers asked me to write a Christmas poem for two of her classes to perform. I did it and it was...interesting (better described by the words "China fabulous"). Little did I know that she would also want me to teach the poem along with motions and the first verse and chorus of "Jingle Bells". 

(Forget about trying to explain what "bells on bobtail" are.)

Today was a snow day. My children have never been so wild and apathetic at the same time.

Class 12 and Class 16 had to make Christmas cards as a homework assignment from my Chinese co-teacher. One of the students had their parents call my co-teacher over the weekend to ask how to spell my name so they could write it on their Christmas card.

My co-teacher in Class 14 taught the students the phrase "I love ____" and asked them what they love. Dear, sweet little Burt emphatically answered, "I love Mees Love!" (And no, I was not in the room when he said this, pursuading him to say it. That means it was REAL.)

Last week, I accidentally told a student "I love you!" and she was ecstatic. I don't think I'll be able to stop myself now. 

Bill from Class 12 usually walks with me after class because my path goes by the boys' bathroom. We always have little conversations and he spends most of the time holding my arm and/or grinning up at me. 

Angel from Class 12 said, "Mees Love, you are like my seestar...you are beautiful!"

Hunter from Class 15 tried to take stuff out of my teaching bag this afternoon. The Chinese homeroom teacher (who doesn't speak much English) made him come back to me and say, "I'm sorry." He looked a small Asian puppy. I wasn't impressed.

Keeping these children from cheating on their exams is a lot like trying to pitch water out of a leaking boat. You just can't fix it by bribing them with stickers.

Class 13 mimicked me so well one day that they even coughed when I coughed. It was scary. 

Watching children act out Goldilocks and the Three Bears in class is going onto my list of Favorite Things that Happened This Year. 

During Parents' Week, when parents came in to watch any and all of my lessons, Class 13 thought it would be the opportune time to take up sticking pencils in their noses.

My favorite part of the day is walking through the hallway and being showered with hugs and children yelling "MEES LOVE! MEES LOOOVVVVVE!" 

Alyssa from Class 16 is usually very quiet and morose-looking, but I've noticed that she's an extraordinary artist. One day she was turning in a picture I had them draw in class, and as I took it, I looked her in the eye and said, "Alyssa, this is beautiful." She turned to go, but then hesitated, gave me a shy smile, and stammered, "Thank you, Mees Love." 

Drake from Class 17 wears a Harry Potter coat (yes, it says "Harry Potter" on it) and salutes me every time we run into each other. 

Justin from Class 17 is EXTRAORDINARILY loud and loves to tell me "GOOD MARNING," and "GOOD AFTANOON."

Hannah from Class 14 just needs extra love.

Tate from Class 16 forgot his name once, but now reminds me of it every time we see each other. "Mees Love! I'm Tate!"

Ben from Class 14 sits up VERY straight and VERY proud ALL the time. He does it so well, in fact, that his face sometimes turns red until I'm sure he's going to burst like an overfed hamster. 

Reese from Class 15 always knows the answer. He used to try to be too cool for me, but now he smiles when I call on him and see him in the hallway. He's awkwardly bigger than all of his classmates and has dimples when he grins. 

Sasha from Class 15 is determined to never, ever like me. 

My second favorite part of the day is leaving school during recess when all the kids are outside. It means I get MOBBED by excited second graders.

Chinese children make beautiful Christmas cards. 

..........

Yes, I could go on and on about my precious, naughty, awful, adorable, ridiculous Chinese babies, but I think you understand already. 

I love them to itty bitty pieces.

And I'm thankful my Father loves them more.

Why.

There are a lot of days here where I just want to ask WHY.

Why did they change the school schedule that way?

Why do cars drive on the sidewalk?

Why is my stomach hurting?

Why won't skype work when I most need it to?

Why don't Chinese people eat cereal and chocolate?

Why is it so hard to hear the Father's voice here?

Why do they let it get so smoggy?

Why are they burning vinegar?

Why does everything take so much more energy?

Why does is have to be dirty all the time?

Why is it so hard to go anywhere?

Why don't we have a working toaster oven?

Why don't things get fixed more quickly?

Why is "recorder" one of the vocabulary words this week?

Why do I have to teach it?

Why am I in CHINA?

Why does everyone always have to stare at me?

Why does my apartment smell like cabbage? 

Why do I feel lonely?

Why does the tv only work sometimes?

Why won't Chinese stick in my brain?

This is a place where why questions come to die. As an outsider, sometimes my questions will get answered in a way that makes sense to me, sometimes they will be answered in a way that doesn't make sense to me, and most of the time they won't be answered at all.  Why questions just aren't as important here.

But even if I was in the states, I'd probably still be asking why.

Why is gas so expensive?

Why do I have to do all this paperwork?

Why am I always so busy?

Why aren't people calling me back when I need them to?

Why is everyone getting married but me?

Why is community hard to find?

Why is so much expected of me?

Why does everyone around me care so much about STUFF?

Why are these celebrities so important?

Why do we put so much crap in our food?

Why do we take so much medicine for every little thing?

Why does everyone complain so much?

Why is it hard to sleep at night?

Why do I love Starbucks so much?

I have this idea that I'll be a lot more content if I know everything. 

Maybe that I'll have more control over my life or that I'll be able to change my circumstances. 

But is that really true? 

(I'll give you a hint. The answer's not "yes".)

We weren't made to know all the answers. 

And the real champions aren't the people who find out all of the whys.

The happiest people are the ones who only care about the necessary whys and can live with the ambiguity of not having all the other answers. 

Who can be content with not knowing everything. 

Who are satisfied knowing that the One who knows all the whys will reveal them in His good time and that He has a reason for not telling us everything up front.

In the meantime, I am learning to hand my whys over to Him and live in the knowledge that no matter what the other answers may be, I am 

eternally loved, 

forever a daughter of the King,

and 

always in His hand. 

That's all I really need to know.

ChinaGhettoFabulous Christmas

It's beginning to look a lot like 

ChinaGhettoFabulous

Christmas.....

eeeeverywhere you goooooo.....

Here in Shanxi province, Team Taiyuan is hard at work creating some happy Christmas memories. 

 It all began on Saturday (after a breakfast of pancakes, of course. Wouldn't want to spoil the weekend tradition) with a package from my friends Christina, Amy, Anna, and Lauren. The package arrived in October and I was under strict orders not to open it until December 1st. And when I did, I found enough presents so that I could open one every day until Christmas. 

Impressive? TOTALLY. Loved? SO FEELING IT.

Best care package I'll ever get.

Then Alex and I took apart/attacked the living room. Well, mostly Alex. Go, roommie, go!

Susie had a party for us that night. She was an elf. And Santa. 

 She's all I want for Christmas. 

On Sunday, we saw that the Fashion Walk got dressed up for Christmas, too...

Dangerous Santa.

Random trees!

All you could ask of a Holiday celebration. 

And then, to top it off, Gangnam Style coffee. It really doesn't get any better than that. 

By that evening, Christmas had officially thrown up all over apartment 602.

Real China Fabulous.

Then, of course, three of our team members had to get a silly cold (I'm making a reference to me, here, of course). I suppose we're not burning enough vinegar in here.

I like to see it as building an immune system of steel. 

Happy Christmas season, y'all...

...From Team Taiyuan's hearts to YOURS.

Semper Gumby

On my semester plans, it said that I would give midterms the second week of November. 

(I hope you already see where this is going and know that I still haven't given midterms.)

On the first week of November, we found out that the school was giving its midterms at the same time as we were, so we decided to push ours back a week. Ends up the school only needed half a day to give all those tests. We didn't know until that week was halfway over. 

Hmph. 

The next week, we were required to do at least one lesson about Thanksgiving and then had a day off for Thanksgiving. So we pushed the tests back again. 

Hmph.

Then we found out (on Thursday of last week) that this week the parents would be coming to watch any and all lessons they wanted, all week long, and that next week school will be out through Thursday morning. Also, our Friday classes were canceled and replaced by a repeat of Thursdays classes. We found the last one out before school this morning.

Hmph.

So today we did a filler lesson on Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the parents loved it, I don't know when I'll give midterms, and I stopped being attached to a planned schedule a long time ago.

After reading and acting out the Goldilocks story, we drew pictures. Dave was...less than enthusiastic.

Harry, on the other hand, was QUITE proud.

William is...being William and Fabio is showing off his artwork. 

Also, the school recently began burning vinegar to keep everyone healthy. Yes, burning vinegar smells exactly what you would expect it to smell like. It's especially nice when they light it right next to you while you're teaching and you have to keep your non-gaggy teacher face on.

Basically, you learn to roll with the punches. The school's English festival is going to be the week of Christmas. We don't know what day it will be on--it could be on Christmas, in which case we would have to perform, and I'm trying to be ok with that. 

As my Aunt and Uncle say, "Semper Gumby." 

Always flexible. 

And maybe green.

Thanksgiving in China

Thanksgiving. 

Around September the cravings start to hit and they last all the way until November. 

Turkey. Casserole. Dinner rolls. Pie. 

Sitting around talking about what you're thankful for. 

Watching the parade. 

Watching the dog show. 

Watching other people pass out. 

Etc, etc, etc.

 

Last year at this time I wasn't thinking, "Hey, I probably won't be here for this next year." But Thanksgiving rolled around again and I'm in China. Weird. 

As you probably already guessed, they don't really do Thanksgiving in China. So what is the protocol for being a foreign teacher in China on Thanksgiving?

First, you dance to the Cotton Eyed Joe in the office while wearing something ridiculous. 

Second, you make hand turkeys with your classes. 

Third, you make fifty million pumpkin cookies. Oops.

Fourth, you go to Beijing for the weekend to meet up with other people who celebrate Thanksgiving. 

 Fifth, YOU EAT. A LOT.

Fifth and 1/2, you feel sick after that. But it's worth it.

Sixth, you sing Christmas carols, play Canasta, and watch girly movies like Little Women. 

And take pictures around people who fall asleep. *coughcoughMesheacough*

 

You also might try to skype your family on Thanksgiving Day, get kicked off by the internet, wave your hands around in frustration, and cry. But that passes, and you remember that more Thanksgivings will happen and that there will be other opportunities to spend holidays with the people you love. There may not, however, be other opportunities to play Canasta after stuffing your face with somebody else's apple pie. 

In China.

Bugs.

If you've ever gone overseas, you know that one of the first things you will hear about from other people is the bugs. It doesn't matter where you're going or if they've ever been there because THERE in THAT FOREIGN PLACE will reside some ugh-nasty bugs. And they know it.

You ignore the warnings because you might be one of the lucky ones who doesn't have a problem. 

Maybe you went to Ukraine and Uganda and didn't have a problem. 

I hope everyone understands by now that "you" means "ME". 

As most of you know, I've had enough of bugs here in China, thank you. A few weeks after arriving in Taiyuan, I found these strange red bumps on my hands...then my arms...then my face. It didn't take long to figure out that, YES, I did have bedbugs. I was actually pretty calm about it until I researched getting rid of them on the internet and found that they are nigh impossible to destroy. 

Oh, FABULOUS.

I kept it together. I bought a steamer, steamed down all my possessions and furniture, washed my sheets in boiling water, moved into Alex's room on a new mattress, and planned to steam again in another week to finish the rest of them off. Done. I could do it. 

Five days later, the bites were back. In another room. With different sheets on a different mattress. After I had already killed them. UGH. 

The next two months were a constant battle--steaming things down before I went back to bed, still finding bites in the morning, watching as both of my roommates also started getting the bites. The bites began to disappear as the cold weather rolled in, but we knew where they were hiding. 

Yeah, the Bedcave of Wonders. 

We thought there was no way we would ever get rid of these beds. And then--AND THEN--last week the school gave us new ones. Well, they are new to us, not necessarily new to the world. But getting them was a lot like Christmas. 

Striped duvet from the school, snowman sheets from the resource room. YES. 

Unfortunately, "bugs" doesn't just mean insects. This week Team Taiyuan seems to be sharing more than lives and living space. Yesterday I spent the day trying out my new bed as I couldn't seem to get out of it. Four out of the six of us came down with a stomach bug, much to the bewilderment of our abandoned students. 

I suppose you can't make it through your third foreign experience without having some sort of bug problem. We're just grateful that it didn't hit over Thanksgiving--because by then I hope to have a stomach strong enough for one heck of a bug-less turkey.

Dreaming of Cereal, Chocolate, and Blonde People

In American society we've got this obsession with dreams. 

Not the sleepy kind, but the what-Ima-gonna-do-one-day kind. 

Having dreams isn't a bad thing at all--unless you're so hung up on them you can't believe that life will ever be good unless you get to have those dreams. 

The funny thing about dreams is that when they play through your head, they are usually a little fuzzy and rosy with soft vignetted edges, kind of like an unrealistic instagram picture.

Oh yeah, unrealistic. 

I've had a few different dreams over the years, a few of which came to pass. I got to be a camp counselor, I went to Africa, I had a boyfriend. Then there are other ones that have changed, flitted out the window, or been stuffed in a closet so they can be taken out later. 

One of those dreams was to teach in a foreign country for a while. 

It was a dream that developed in college, and was just a ghost of a dream, really. 

I'll show you how it went. 

The benevolent Miss Love woke up every morning to the sounds and smells of some lovely European country (the favorite pick was Germany). She had cereal for breakfast and greeted the days refreshed and energetic--just because she was there! Her students were blonde-haired angel babies who were absolutely JOYFUL to see her every day and tried their utmost to please in class--except for the one sullen boy in the back who she quickly won over and who became her class pet. On the weekends Miss Love visited the nearest castles and beaches and by the end of the year had fallen in love with some tall blonde handsome fellow who had enough money to fly her home whenever she wanted. Also, this country had chocolate. Lots of chocolate. Especially dark chocolate.

STOP. REWIND. 

Let's get rid of the fuzzy edges here, please. 

My dream was to teach in a foreign country for a while, even though it scared me enough to pee my pants. Somehow I ended up in China at a boarding school teaching second graders, none of which was part of the dream. The cereal and chocolate and blonde people are pretty scarce, too. 

Yet, I AM living my dream. 

I'm a teacher. 

I teach the cutest children in the world. 

I'm in a foreign country. 

I graduated from college. 

I like being single. 

I'm learning a lot of new things. 

Dreams are cool things to have, but they aren't something to cling to. They can give direction, but left uncontrolled, they can also hinder. 

There are times when I'm discontent here and I think Laura, what else could you possibly want? You're HERE. You're like FREAKING BLONDE MULAN. And I realize that dreams or no dreams, vignetted edges or not, The Father is all that will ever make me content. Going Home to Him is my ultimate dream and I'm SO excited. 

The vignetted edges can't hold a candle to that future certainty.

Different and Normal

I'm wearing a coat right now. 

That would be totally normal if I were outside. 

But I'm in my own room. 

And it's only November. 

There was a time when I told myself I would never live in a city or somewhere cold. 

Hm. 

It's really unfortunate that all Chinese women are smaller than I am. Shopping for winter clothes? Disastrous and sad. 

Welcome to the land of being a XXXL and wearing a man coat. 

It's easy to think that living overseas is romantic and exciting most of the time. If I were someone at home looking at my pictures on facebook, I'd be going Wow, look at all the cool stuff she gets to do. LOOK AT THOSE CUTE LITTLE ASIAN CHILDREN. Omagosh I wish I was her. 

But let's be honest. The squatty potty was cute the first two times, but using it every day without any doors and an open window isn't really glamorous. Most buildings don't look like pagodas and Chinese restaurants don't sell spring rolls. I do my dishes in a really short sink, hang my clothes out to dry, bake my cookies in a shared toaster oven, use a string to flush my toilet, and sleep with a hat on. It can take three hours to go out and get groceries at the closest store that has cereal. I have to climb up to the sixth floor before I can crash in my room. My black Toms are now tan from the layer of dust that covers the entire city. I can't see the sky a lot of the time. I don't remember the last time I watched a television show on a TV. 

This is not meant to be a woe poor Laura take pity on her in the foreign country blog post. It's more of a reality check. 

My new normal looks a lot different than my old normal, but it's still normal. 

I don't love China. There are  aspects of it that I like and there are aspects of it that are hard.  It's taken me a while to realize that it's OK not to love China. It doesn't mean I'm not here for a reason or that the Father isn't doing wonderful things in and through me while I'm here. But LOVING it isn't a requirement. 

I adore my Chinese babies, but I do dream of having my own classroom someday. I love being silly with my single-lady teammates, but I do dream of having a family. I like red bean pastries, but I sometimes I dream about fresh, chewy chocolate-chip cookies and Marble Slab ice cream. 

One day I may have those things. 

That day is not today. 

And that's ok.

I'm learning a lot. I'm growing a lot. I love my students a lot. 

This is a great experience. 

But it's not perfect and it's not glamorous.

The Father is always working for the good of His children. Sometimes this good comes in times that are full of rest and comfort, and sometimes it comes through times that tiring and uncomfortable. It looks different for everyone, but it always leads to the same end, the same ultimate good. 

Which is looking more like Him.

"Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as {He} now knows me completely."

-1 Cor. 13:12

Two Fabulous Days

 I just had two fabulous days back to back, which I figured is blogworthy.

It all began when I was starting to write my Christmas newsletter (on Halloween, no less) in the office and found myself on the edge of tears (because I'm not really ready to start thinking about Christmas away from home). At that perfect time, some of our Chinese co-teachers waltzed in and somehow, in the span of fifteen minutes, the office had transformed into a Halloween dress up dance party. 

The rest of the day was spent doing Halloween lessons with the kiddos, who were more than THRILLED to be singing songs, wearing masks, and getting stickers. 

There is nothing--NOTHING--cuter than watching a classroom of Chinese children go "BOOOO!"

I also got some fun responses to my costume:

"Are you a boy?"

"You have a long nose!"

"You are SCARY."

"You are cool!"

"WAAAAHHH!!!!????"

Thank you, random sparkly clothes from the dress-up bag. 

I also tried to make pumpkin cookies. Keyword: tried. 

Never trust Pinterest when it says you can do this with two ingredients.

The day after Halloween was the beginning of our four-day break and it was time to get away.
In the words of Madea:
"HALLELUYER!"

We started that morning off bright and early waiting for the 831 bus that would take us the big bus station. After a little while we got bored, walked the end of the road, and got a taxi instead.
(this is what we end up doing most of the time. I love getting in the extra exercise! Sorry. I'll put the sarcasm back in it's box).
This landed us at the bus station just in time for the 9:25 bus to the ancient city of Pingyao. 

Chinese buses are known to smell like chicken-feet-breath, make you sneeze, and cause someone to vomit about two hours into the ride. This one was not too unpleasant, though. At least I'm not the one who vomited.

We did make it there alive and managed to find a motorcycle-rickshaw driver/tour guide who stuck with us for the rest of the day. 

And then we reached it: the ancient city of Pingyao. You know the typical pictures that come to mind when you think of China? Well, China doesn't really look like that anymore, but Pingyao does. 

Our first stop was to some sort of temple with creepy statues. Unlike in America, we were allowed to touch and climb on things. That was exciting. 

 

 

After lunch we stopped by a park and climbed on more pretty things. 

 

 

I'm not sure what our guide thought of us at that point, but he was kind and took us shopping. 

We didn't buy anything, but I felt like I was in an old Jackie Chan movie. 

 

 

He took us to a few other places with expensive tickets, so we cut our visit short and got out of the city...by climbing under the wall.

He was nice and met us on the other side to take us to what we thought was the bus station. When he stopped by a bus on the side of the road and babbled at us to get out, we realized that we weren't going to the bus station. And of course, like the brave souls we are, we got on the bus. 

Maybe THIS is taking us to the bus station we thought. 

After a few minutes of driving, we finally asked where we were going. 

He was taking us ALL the way back to Taiyuan. 

And we had the bus ALL to ourselves. 

HALLELUYER.