Growing Up

When I was eight years old, I wasn't ever going to go to college because college was really far away. 

Even the community college by my house was really far away. 

When I was ten years old, I hugged my panda tight and promised him that I would never ever ever get rid of my stuffed animals. Ever. 

When I was fourteen, I thought teaching would be a nice idea.

When I was seventeen, I was going to go to college, get married at 21, live close to home, and be a teacher/soccer mom.

When I was eighteen, I went to college. I also went overseas for the first time and thought it might not be so bad to go to another country where the people looked like me. 

When I was nineteen, I spent a summer in Africa. 

When I was 21, I didn't get married. 

When I was 22, I left America to live in China for  a year.

I still don't understand how it all happened. I've never been particularly adventurous and/or fearless. I like my family and am not a huge fan of being really far away from them. My real dreams and ambitions are usually pretty mild. 

This was never in my plan. 

But I suppose it was in His.

Growing up is weird, man.

Miss Love's Chinese Babies

I had a blog topic brewing in my head all last week, but now I can't seem to make myself write about it. Hm.
Instead, I really want to talk about my students. 

My kiddos. 

My Chinese babies. 

Those little-bitty, black-haired, almond-eyed, round-faced bundles of energy have been privy to my attention twice a week for a full six weeks now. It feels like it's been much longer. 

I lifted them up to the Father from the moment I knew I was accepted into this program, before I even knew if I had an elementary placement. I asked Him to prepare my heart for them and for their hearts to be prepared for me. This is what I still ask for every day. These little ones who are in my life for the next eight months are precious and important to me. 

I'm amazed that He's already worked as much as He has. I can remember almost half of their English names and when I see a child in the hallway, I can often identify whether or not they are one of my students before they even greet me. Did I mention that there are over 285 of them altogether and that I only have each class for two 35-minute periods a week? It's a gift for me to be able to know them as well as I do already. 

Each time I enter a classroom, students flock around the podium to watch me put out materials and chitter at me in Chinese and random English phrases. They want to touch me, hug me, gain my smiles, attention, and affirmation. While I know that part of this comes with me being the fascinating foreigner who lets them play games in class, I know that part of it also comes from the knowledge that I love them. 

Sometimes they are crazy in class. Sometimes the big boys in the back mock the way I phrase things, sometimes they deliberately do things to distract others while I'm teaching, sometimes they talk when I'm talking just because they know I don't like it, sometimes they even make me angry...but I would probably do the same thing if I was in second grade, took classes for 12 hours a day, lived away from home, and had to listen to a foreign language for half an hour with a teacher who couldn't punish me the way my regular teachers did. 

At the end of the day, I still love them to pieces.

And they know it.

Some never speak in class, some won't stop talking, some sit up straight and proud every time I walk by, some roll their eyes when I pass them, some are instigators, some fall out of their seats, some try their very best, some don't try at all, but each has something that makes them special and unique. By the end of the year, I won't know each of them individually, but I will have loved all of them. And through me, they will each have a brush with the Father's love. 

My hope is that one day when they're older, some of them will have the opportunity to respond to His love so that I can see the faces of at least a few of my Chinese babies when I finally go Home for good.

Squatty 101

How to use the school trench squatty potty with no doors:

Step 1: Scope out the situation. Are first graders coming in and out of the bathroom? If the answer is yes, turn around and hold your horses just a little longer. It's not worth it.

Step 2: If the bathroom is empty, cautiously close the door behind you that separates the bathroom from the hallway and pray nobody notices.

Step 3: Climb the steps to the first stall because people coming in can't see into it from an angle. Maybe. Or that's what you're telling yourself. 

Step 4: STRADDLE THE TRENCH. 

Step 5: Hitch the bottom half of your pants up so they don't brush against the wet pee-covered floor. 

Step 5 1/2: SQUAT. 

(When squatting, it is important to make sure that you're scooched up against the back of the stall with your blonde head behind the partial-wall. That way if a first grader does walk in, they might think you're a Chinese teacher and may not come stare at you. Maybe.) 

Step 6: Do what you came here to do. Don't hit your fancy shoes. Don't look at the first graders' leftovers sitting in the trench below you. Don't look at the opened-up ceiling above your head. Don't look at the dripping pipe in front of your face. Just concentrate on your shoes and GO GO GO. 

Step 7: Get out the toilet paper you brought with you and don't forget to put it in the wastebasket next to you along with everyone else's used toilet paper. 

Step 8: Thank goodness nobody came in, hitch your pants up, run your hands under the cold faucet, and high-tail it out of there.

Step 9: Give yourself a high-five. YOU, my friend, have skills.  

October Holiday

I feel sorry for the college students who are walking through the door of this little coffee shop on their campus right now. We are in China, at a place called Maya Cafe, and it's overrun with a group of Americans. Cultural overload, man. 

We're here because the internet is out again. This used to annoy me, but you find that after you live in China for a while, things that used to be annoying are pretty standard and that what used to be essential to your survival....isn't. Like toilet seats, central heating, predictable water in the shower, reliable transportation, and soft cookies. 

Anyways, it's now been two days since the end of China's week-long holiday and they question on everyone's mind is WHAT AWESOME THING DID YOU DO?? I'll tell you what I did. I was so lazy I couldn't even handle it. 

It was beautiful. 

Sunday was the Mid-Autumn Festival, so Bethany, Natalie, Susie, and I took some time to dance in the moonlight, sing to the moon, and find new uses for moon cakes. 

A video may come soon.

 Gross.

I don't think I even left my apartment on Monday or Tuesday. 

During that time Alex and Jenessa, two of my teammates, took a 24-hour train to another city to visit some of our friends, but I was not ready to spend a full 48 hours of my life on a Chinese train for only two days worth of visiting. 

On Wednesday, Susie and I headed out to Zhong Bei (remember that blog about hiking? Yeah, that place) to spend the night with our friends out there. We watched Anne of Green Gables and ate cinnamon rolls and I crocheted a scarf. I also took a good look at my choices and realized my interests are similar to those of an 80-year-old woman. 

On Thursday, we celebrated Alex's birthday by going out for pizza, eating carrot cake, and watching Anne of Avonlea. We are all actually 80-year-old women. 

On Friday we met up with the university student volunteers from Taiyuan Teen and went out to the mountains where Taiyuan Teen holds summer and winter camps. The campground was empty, so we had plenty of room to make Chinese food, play ultimate frisbee, practice our archery and biking skills, and share life stories. Many of them are Brothers and Sisters, so it was beautiful to get to share life with them outside of the Taiyuan Teen English corner that meets twice a month. 

(This is where I was going to put pictures, but the internet suddenly won't let me. Oh, China.)

On Saturday we went shopping so that on Sunday we could have a Pinterest day. Yeah, we made pumkins out of books and toilet paper, ate an entire apple crisp, and made apple scones. I have never celebrated Fall so hardcore and I'm pretty sure it's because I'm overcompensating. 

I was a little sad that on this break I couldn't just jump in my car, drive home, and spend the week in the Smokies with my family, drinking my dad's good coffee and making ridiculous music videos with my sister. But the Father is good and He provides exactly the rest that I need in the exact circumstances where I need it for this exact time. 

Now, getting back into the swing of being Mees Love is different matter...