Cribbage, Pad Thai, and the Elephant Day Adventure

Three weeks ago, my friends and I set off from Harbin, migrating south for the winter. We have had an incredibly blessed vacation, enjoying the precious and rare opportunity to travel Asia as a team –a family of six. Our numbers have dwindled as Michael and Lauren joined their families and as Laura went to stay with Lauren, but we have continued to have quality time all together and in smaller groups.

For example: Today Kayla and I went to eat lunch at our favorite Pad Thai restaurant. The woman who works there doesn’t really speak English, but she is really kind and makes a mean plate of noodles for only 30 baht (roughly $1 U.S.).  We really enjoy her and feel like we’re friends. We can’t really communicate, but we do alright. A few days ago we had a fairly confusing exchange involving charades, props, and an interpreter whose English – though not good – was decidedly better than our Thai. Initially we thought she was trying to tell us that she was missing Michael (she signed something about a tall mall) because he hadn’t been there for a few days. We figured out what was actually going on pretty quickly when the camera came out, though. Drew had left his camera on the table. Thanks for going to such lengths to make sure we got it back to him!

After lunch today, we ran into Michael, Michael’s dad, and Wes on their way to knock out an errand before our cribbage-filled afternoon. We got distracted by ice cream and pictures of tigers and ended up standing together on the street corner for about 10 minutes. Now that I think about it, we probably looked really weird… Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time. We returned to the guest house and we sat down at a table on the covered patio to play cribbage. It was really fun playing with the man who taught me and the man who taught him… and beating them both really badly the first game. J Things evened out after that and I was sufficiently humbled by a newfound inability to shuffle cards.

Today was wonderfully laid back, much needed after the marathon that was yesterday. Around 8:30am, Kayla, Wes, Drew, and I piled into the back of a truck, joining Laura and Drew’s teammate Tony. When everyone had been picked up, we were 12 in number (2 Aussies, 2 Canadians, 2 Chinese, and 6 Americans who teach in China) and we were packed. The first stop on our journey was unexpected – an orchid farm! It smelled wonderful and the flowers were lovely.

A short drive up the mountain led us to a small stand where we acquired life jackets, helmets, and rafts. With our new equipment, we continued driving up the mountain, chose our rafts, and waited for a parade of elephants carrying tourists to finish passing us by. We made our way down the slope to the river, taking care with our bare feet to avoid things like rocks and grassy presents left by elephants. Into the water we plunged, and down the river we went. There were some very exciting rapids at the beginning that made Tony glad for his helmet and left me with a deep bruise from where I hip-checked a boulder. Five or ten minutes in, the river was pretty mellow, so we had to make things more interesting.

At this point I must confess, I chose to be on a raft with Tony, Drew, and Laura Baker because I suspected that this group would be the one to make trouble. And so we did. Splashing ensued, leaving those on other rafts significantly less dry than the people on ours. At some point, Tony decided to take things up a notch. He noticed that the elephants had left grassy presents not only on the trail but also floating in the water. The only obvious choice was to scoop said object up with his paddle and catapult it in the general direction of another raft. A few failed attempts later, Tony found a really good one and – because there was no one around – put it in the raft. Although we were laughing, Laura and I did NOT approve of said decision, watching as floaties crept backwards in the raft, polluting the water under our feet. Gross, Tony. That’s just gross. When we were in range, Tony barehanded the thing instead of using his paddle, hitting the other guide in the arm and splattering everyone in our raft as well. Fortunately we could rinse off in the river. 

Thanks, friend. Thanks a lot.

Okay… moving on. We had lunch at the elephant camp. The food was awesome and the ambiance delightful. We were pretty much on a farm, with lots of pigs – mostly babies – running around, very friendly cats basically begging to be petted (so I obliged), a whole bunch of chickens and something I suspect may have been quail. There were also elephants. And we rode them after lunch. It was excellent.

That’s a big day. We squeezed back in the truck and headed… further up the mountain. Bumpiest, dustiest, most crowded transportation experience I’ve had in Asia. A little dazed, we piled out of the truck, into the jungle. An awesome hike led us to the base of a waterfall, where we enjoyed the sights, sounds, and smells that accompanied this gloriously cool haven from the heat. A hike past a giant spider led us back to the truck which took us back down the same road and then all the way down the mountain into town, where we could think of nothing but finding a hearty meal.

The day left me exhausted, obviously, but more than that, it left me feeling very much alive. I love to be outside in nature – especially when it involves mountains. Harbin is a little short on natural beauty, particularly in the winter when everything is dead and it’s too cold to go outside and enjoy anything that might still live. I’m really grateful for mountain biking last week, the sunrise I watched over the top of the Christian school near our guest house, the sunset I enjoyed by the river with Kayla and Laura, yesterday’s mountainful adventure, the return of my Chaco tan, the chance to play with animals, the downpour I stood out in earlier this evening, and all the moments in between which have provided life-giving views of lovely flowers, mountains, blue skies, and a river.  

We start our conference tomorrow, and it will be time to acknowledge and rejoice in beauty of a different sort. As we tell our stories, listen to the stories of others, and deepen relationships with teachers from other schools, I hope to be as fully engaged and delighted with people as I have been with our surroundings here in Thailand.

We serve a great God whose loveliness extends far beyond what we can see in Creation. I am excited to hear and share about how this has manifested itself over the past six months.

Mortars and Floating Lights

I can still see traces of smoke hanging in the air a few hundred yards from where I sit, dissipating evidence of the explosion that preceded it. Sometimes it sounds like we are in a war zone. The sound of mortars exploding throughout the neighborhood where we are staying is by no means uncommon, but instead of sounding destruction they are the product of celebration. Usually it is just one explosion at a time, and more often than not, the source of the sound is out of sight. I have now seen two of these fireworks. A few nights ago, Kayla and I were trying to fall asleep, annoyed by a loudly chirping bird (Stupid bird. Singing in the middle of the night. That’s not where you belong.) Well, anyway, this bird got what was coming to it; a few minutes of chirping were followed by an explosion and then silence. To my sleep-deprived mind, this very clearly suggested that the bird had exploded, and I in turn exploded into laughter.

Thailand is not only into fireworks, but also floating lanterns (yes, like in Tangled). There is a poster in our guest house that reads “Thailand; Loi Krathong Festival; The festival of floating lights” and there is a picture of people on a date. That’s all it says, and until tonight I thought that maybe floating lights only happen during this one particular festival (a romantic Buddhist festival that usually happens in November). But tonight as I sat on the balcony with good friends, five lights floated up into the sky, probably above the river. Over the course of the evening, several more stray lanterns have appeared and disappeared beyond trees and roofs.

Loi Krathong Festival, Chiang-Mai.

There is no festival today. Last night there were more fireworks than usual for Spring Festival (Chinese New Year), but why there are lanterns tonight is a mystery to me. It makes me wonder who lit them, who sent them up into the sky, and what it left them feeling as they watched the light rise into the sky and drift away on the wind. Are they celebrating some lovely thing that’s happened? Are they missing someone they’ve loved? Are they performing a ritual out of duty? Does it give them hope? Does it leave them longing?

Maybe someday I will learn the answers. For now I am content to ponder the possibilities.

However, I will say this: lanterns are better than fireworks. Fireworks may be bright and colorful and attention-grabbing, but they are so abrupt. Build up and anticipation, getting it ready to launch, then you light the fuse, watch it fly into the air, and within a second it is reduced to a cloud of smoke and an image burned on your retina, the first dissolving and the second fading in less time than it took for the fuse to burn. Lanterns, on the other hand, are more thoughtful and thus –in my opinion –the source of infinitely more enjoyment. The word savor comes to mind. They are quiet and unpredictable, rising slowly into the sky, a soft orange glow among brightly twinkling stars. Fueled by the heat of the light that makes them beautiful and guided by even then gentlest breeze, they rise and soar slowly out of sight, quietly captivating the attention of on-lookers until it is no longer perceptible. 

As I wrote that, a loud pop and sizzle indicated that I should look to the sky where, indeed, a purple and gold explosion greeted my eyes. A few more, and I’m starting to believe that there is a proper party going down at the river. More likely than not, I will never actually know.  But I’m glad I chose to sit outside tonight. 

Have I been mountain biking in Thailand? Why, yes. Indeed I have.

So here’s how it happened. Last night we were hanging out at the night bazaar, talking about what we wanted to do together before Michael and Lauren’s parents arrive later this week. There was general agreement that biking was a good idea, and Michael had a brochure. Sweet. When we get back, let’s call ‘em up and see if we can do it.

We get back to Ben Guest House (no, that’s not a typo, thanks for your concern) and Michael finds his brochure. With us all gathered together on Lauren and Laura’s beds, Michael begins to read something about mountain biking down the mountain… something about 3000 meter elevation change over four hours. Something about “beginner level mountain biking.” Something about anyone from 15 to 99 years old in reasonable shape can do it. (Dad, you are in reasonable shape, and I stand by what I said earlier; don't try mountain biking.)

My friends looked pumped. I looked less pumped, more apprehensive.

They did not understand why I was not totally enthused. “It’s mostly downhill! You can do it!”

They didn’t understand that as soon as you say “mountain biking” I have a whole slue of stories come to mind, most of which involve tumbling down a mountain headfirst, crashing into friends on narrow trails, and breaking helmets on rocks. This was not what my friends envisioned. After some thought and prayer and a pep talk, I let them know that they could count me in.

8:30am – Off we go on our 40 minute walk across town to the bike place.

9:15am – A vehicle from the bike place arrives at Ben Guest House to pick us up.

9:50am – Michael, Wes, Lauren, Kayla, and I all put on the most protective gear we have ever worn (shin/knee guards, arm guards, helmets, gloves).

10:00am – Our guide asked us why we walked…  Great question. Miscommunication strikes again.

We hit the road, heading up the windy mountain road to the trail head. Accompanying us for the ride was a guy named Fred. He’s originally from England, lived for the past few years in Australia washing windows on very tall buildings, and is now travelling through Asia for several weeks. Our conversation with him was surprisingly meaningful, given the shortness of our acquaintance. We got into questions of religion and politics, family stories, cultural differences between the West and China… The conversation didn’t feel finished when we arrived, but it ended, nevertheless.

It was time for a crash course in mountain biking. Then they gave each of us a bike and told us to ride around to test the brakes and the gears. At this point, I was wondering how I was going to make it down the mountain, asking God to keep us from bodily harm. I just about toppled off my bike several times during the testing period… on flat ground. It left me wondering: What’s gonna happen when you add the complications of speed and uneven, sloped ground?

The first leg of our journey was along the road. Traffic was heavier than usual –or so they say, so we found ourselves hugging the shoulder to allow larger, more powerful vehicles to pass as they desired. As we rode, our guides gave us more advice on how to ride, which we followed as best we could. Don’t worry, no one got hit by a car; no one even fell when there was traffic! Also, no one ran into any stopped vehicles, although I came close (it must be genetic). After a pit-stop at a “coffee shop” for a toilet and a beautiful view of some cherry blossoms (I think), we began the real ride. Down the mountain we went.

It was incredibly beautiful. The trees were in bloom, and the view of the city was breathtaking. We could also see other mountains in the distance, deep blue against a bright blue sky. Shaded by the lush trees, we picked our way through the rocks and ruts, learning the art of balancing left and right brakes through trial and error. Skidding around corners taught me not to rely entirely on the rear brake. A very painful stop and forced dismount taught me not to get too excited about the front brake.

Over the course of the ride, we naturally fell into groups. In total, we were 5 teachers from Harbin, 1 man from Europe, a brother and sister from near Guangzhou, a French guide and his half-Thai son, and another Thai guide. I fell into the middle group with Wes, O-Y (Miss Guangzhou), and Terry from France (who has lived in Thailand for 20 years.) We had a great time. I brought up the rear, being a bit more cautious than the others, also slightly more prone to falling, but don't get the wrong idea, I only fell twice and a half. Terry took us down some trails that aren’t usually part of this ride, nothing too hard. There was one part in particular that seemed rough, and after conquering it, I was feeling very happy about becoming proficient in beginning mountain biking. Not too bad for a first time out. :D

Terry: “You want to try something harder?”

Me: “No! J Thank you for asking!”

A few hundred meters down the road, I see him leave the road for a single track. O-Y was right behind him. I caught up to Wes at the top, and after making sure that I was going to be okay, he took the plunge as well. Standing at the top, looking down at a steep and narrow path, I was reminded of how it felt to stand at the top of a ski run when I was younger, aware of a lack of skills and foolish courage. My internal monologue went something like this:

Shoooot, where is he going? I thought he asked because he wanted to know… but there he goes. Maybe that track isn’t as hard as it looks from back here. SHOOOOT it’s worse. 
Okay... gotta stop before I go down or I’ll catch air and die. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Hm. Am I being a wuss? No… I’m not... scared. I just don’t know how to do this… Well, I guess I just brake and turn and stuff. But how do I get my foot back on the pedal from here without falling down the mountain? Okay, foot on pedal… they’re waiting… Hand on brake, feet on pedals, I’m doing it, I’M DOING IT! But I’m not in controoooooOh shoot I’m down. Well... I tried.

Laughing, I gave a thumbs up and let them know I was okay.

Laughing, Terry said, “Okay, grab your bikes, let’s go back up to the main trail.”

Me: “If you guys want to go ahead, that’s fine. I can wait for the other group.”

The four of us continued on together, and we had a good chuckle about the fact that I was right when I said no.

We made it down and rode the long way around the lake where we were going to have lunch. Terry asked me and Wes if we were okay with Chicken fried rice. YES! He asked the pair from Guangzhou. They were very confused. Then, for the first time in Thailand, my Chinese skills came in handy. I translated the Frenchman’s English into Mandarin for our Cantonese speaking friends. And communication was successful.

We dined in a tropical wood cabana thing on the lake, and then we dragged our tired selves up the little hill to the lot where transportation into town awaited us. Fred’s group had just finished their ride, so we said goodbye and piled in the tuk-tuk truck thing, not actually tuk-tuk.

The afternoon involved showering, napping, and cribbage. It was excellent. I’m sore and a little dehydrated, but I’ll recover. Totes worth it.

My Letter to Chiang Mai

Dear Chiang Mai,

I haven’t quite known what to make of you since I arrived four days ago. I was – and still am – a little overwhelmed by how Westernified and touristy everything here is. I am still surprised and disappointed every time I make eye contact with a foreigner and it isn’t actually a special moment because there are foreigners everywhere. I’m sorry that despite the fact that I have learned a few Thai phrases, I keep calling on my minimal Chinese knowledge in efforts to communicate with people here.

But… Thanks for celebrating Chinese New Year with fireworks tonight. Thanks for the weather and the 90 degree (Fahrenheit) difference from Harbin. Thanks for the tiny geckos that roam the walls and ceilings of our guest house to nom the bugs that want to nom on me. Thanks for the pretty flowers. And thanks for the mountain that exists just outside of town. It’s very pretty here, and though I’m still homesick for China, I’m glad to spend a few weeks of my life resting in this place. I'm excited to get to know you and your people better.

Love,

Tiff

Ni hao, Taiguo

Today has been a long travel day. It started out with a very successful and shorter than expected walk to the metro and easy ride to the airport. Then our flight was “delayed due to airplane arriving later.” Arriving in Bangkok, we were unsure of what to do and where to go because we didn’t have boarding passes for our connecting flight to Chiangmai. We followed signs and advice from airport staff back and forth all over the terminal, growing increasingly concerned about missing our flight. Eventually we had help circumventing the massive crowd of people at immigration, going through the priority line so that we could go through customs, go upstairs (and all the way to the other end of the building) to get boarding passes, pay a very mysterious fee, go back through security and halfway back down the terminal... and I’m happy to say that we did all this with a few minutes to spare before they started boarding our flight.

A bus took us out to our plane which was surprisingly huge and colorful inside, given that it was an hour-long domestic flight. Very nice plane, very friendly crew, very tasty sandwiches and juice. Thanks, Thai Air.

Feeling better about life than we had been two hours before, we got off the plane feeling a fresh sense of joyful anticipation, having finally arrived in the city where we’re living for the next three weeks. On to baggage claim. Kayla, check. Tiffany, check. Michael, check. Wes, check. Laura, check. Lauren… Lauren? Hm. Sometimes we say we’re “having a bad China day.” A bad China day sounded really good by the time we made it out of the airport.

But you know… the drivers who brought us to our guest house from the airport were very kind. The weather here is awesome. Dinner was spicy and delicious. There’s a river nearby and there are more stars than I’ve seen in months. …I can dig it. 

Tomorrow is another day, and His mercies are new every morning.

Zai Jian, Guangzhou

Leaving Guangzhou, I want to try to articulate my impressions of this city and of my time here. Knowing that I cannot do justice to all that has happened, I will paint a less-than-systematic portrait.

Over the last two days I have walked some number more than twenty miles. The first day we went exploring, we happily stumbled across all of the things we hoped to find. The second day was more purposeful and quest-like, and hours of marching led us finally to the longed-for destination: the top of the Canton Tower. A metro ride, a wonderful wrong turn, a mosey through Shamian Island, another metro ride, and a few miles’ backtracking led us to dinner as a whole team plus Lauren’s friend from Auburn. It was a delightful and unexpected pair of days that introduced me to more of Guangzhou than I anticipated seeing; I met more people than I thought was possible during such a short stay in so unfamiliar a city; and I ate more Western food than I have since August.

MEXICAN FOOD!! (Lauren, Will, Laura, and my hand goin' in for the cheese dip.)

Team Harbin with our British friends after Australian fro-yo at the BBQ joint.

The day before the trip to the top. We didn't even know...

My feets is tired, but my soul is at rest.

That song has been playing through my head here as we find new reasons to keep walking. (Not all of us have walked quite so many miles… maybe only Michael and I have walked so much – he more than I.) This day confirmed that I am still always up to go to the river, to see beautiful lights, and to spend time with people. I am content and peaceful, knowing that I have spent my time here well. I haven’t overextended myself physically, mentally, or spiritually, and I haven’t missed any opportunities. We are leaving tomorrow, but I feel none of that old feeling of sadness, aching, regret that was so familiar to me years ago, whenever I would leave a place that had grown familiar. I’m just glad we came.

I’ve no idea what is in store for us in Thailand, but I am up to explore, to rest, to wait, to dance, to sing, to hold baby tigers… I am ready to continue sabbatical, exploring ways to delight in the heart of God. 

Sabbatical Day 6: Guangzhou is not at all what I expected.

I’m not sure what I expected to find in this city. When we first made plans to come here, I was excited, thinking to myself that it would be warm and lovely – a good place to visit. But every time we told somebody, we got very unenthusiastic responses from them. Then, as we checked the weather … we saw rain in the forecast, and my expectations fell a little lower. Talk amongst my teammates of sticking around the hotel left me believing that our time here might not be very memorable.

Yesterday, we arrived in the rain. We paid to take a bus from the airport to a part of town that was relatively close to our hotel. Bags in tow, we set out to find our hotel, thinking we must surely be no more than a few blocks away. After a couple failed attempts to ask for help, one failed attempt to get on wi-fi at Starbucks, and three failed attempts to get cab drivers to take us to the address on our papers, we were assisted in communicating with cab drivers by a very kind barista. Thank you, sir. Thank you, Starbucks, for hiring awesome people.

Wet and tired, we flopped around the hotel for a while after eating a late lunch down the road from the hotel. A few of us went downstairs where we played pool, made friends with a  cool rat named Frank, and drank some tea. After losing a few games of pool to Michael, we headed back to our rooms to await the arrival of Lauren’s friend from Auburn. He joined us to hang out for a bit, and then we headed together to get Mexican food. Yum.

This morning, we woke up late and without a plan. Around 11am, Michael, Wes, Kayla, and I wandered off with a few flexible goals in mind: eat lunch; buy a Guangzhou mug from Starbucks from a fellow Harbin teacher; buy fruit; get contact solution for Michael; go to an ICBC. Three hours and several miles of walking later, we had accomplished all of these goals… and our expectations for our time in Guangzhou had been exceeded dramatically. Let me tell you about it...

Guangzhou is an absurdly nice city. It is very well-developed, very wealthy, and very Western. Coming from Harbin, I am experiencing a bit of culture shock. We walked for a long time up the main road, where we found a great Vietnamese restaurant, a bank, and a Lens Crafters. Three of five goals down.

On a whim, I suggested we turn off the main road down a side street. It looked more like real China, and enough people were turning there that I was curious. One more turn led us to a market street, where we found fruit for cheap and where we found ourselves comforted by familiar sights and sounds and delighted by new things as well. The market street ran into a canal and at that point turned into a flower market. We were overwhelmed by lovely smells and colors. The day was starting to feel a bit magical.

A series of decisions about which direction to walk and whether to keep going or to return to the hotel led us to the Starbucks at which we accomplished our fifth goal. Michael bought the one remaining Guangzhou mug. So, this day was pretty much perfect. Feeling incredibly content, I walked to the back of the shop to use the WC. As I came around the corner I saw a white girl, and as we made eye contact, a smile slowly took over not only her face but her whole demeanor, leaving her beaming at me. This smile said to me I am SO happy to see another white person! I’ve been in China too long and I’m really quite lonely. When I got back to the table we had staked out, I told Kayla that she should say hello. After half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes, Kayla came back, beaming. A few minutes later, we invited our new friend Stephanie (from Newcastle, England) to eat dinner with us.

Walking down the sidewalk, we were pretty much floating, aware that the day was excellent not by any accident or set of coincidences, but because God is good and He had the whole thing planned. We are on vacation, but He is not. A few blocks later, we were at the river. The day just keeps getting better and better!

We turned to follow the river and as we walked, we had a great view of the city skyline. Our feet carried us – rather unexpectedly – to the one tourist place I had been inclined to go: the area around the Guangzhou Opera House. The first thing to catch our eye was the amphitheater. The next, the tall twisty apple protector thing tower. Then we saw the flowers and the dragons; we soon realized that the dragons were made of flowers. At this point, totally overwhelmed, we were wandering from cool sight to nifty creation, wondering at the creativity and the beauty that surrounded us. After enjoying this park and deciding that we needed to return, we made our way back to the hotel.

Shortly after arriving, we departed again, this time with Lauren and Laura – who had spent a good portion of the afternoon enjoying comfy chairs at another Starbucks in town. We met up with Stephanie and her friend Neil (a bloke from Liverpool) and we followed them to a delicious and cheap Yunnan restaurant. We sat and talked for a while after we had finished eating – something we don’t often have the opportunity to do in China. We joked and we shared stories, we compared jobs and living situations, and all the while we felt like … friends. It felt like we had known each other forever.

I’m not sure how it happened, but when we left the restaurant, we left with the purpose of going to a restaurant I’d seen earlier that day: Cowboy Express. Why were we going there? Because Stephanie met the owner and he said that they have good fro-yo. Indeed they do. They do have good fro-yo at the BBQ restaurant opened a few weeks ago by a man from Utah who moved to China to open a Chinese-friendly Western BBQ joint. Who knew? Well… Steph knew.

We had a lovely time with Stephanie and Neil, and I think we were all sad to see our time together come to an end. Maybe some day we will meet again. Regardless, I’m very happy to have met them both. I will never forget them, and I will be lifting them up, especially interceding on behalf of a difficult work situation (they are teachers as well, but they don’t have the luxury of working for an organization that is fighting on their behalf, so they are taken advantage of quite a bit) as well as requesting community for them (the foreigners in this city are big into the crazy night-life scene, which is not exactly our new friends’ cup of tea. In fact, they would prefer a cup of tea.)

Walking back to our hotel, we breathed deeply of the rich life we are living here. It was a full and beautiful day.

We were almost back to our hotel when we noticed that the awesome twisty building was lit up. Knowing that it could rain tomorrow, we turned toward the river for the second time today, but for the first time as a whole team. It was a late night, but it was the right choice.

I love these people so much. After meeting people who are living in China and starving for meaningful community, I am deeply grateful to have such good friends here and to have the opportunity to make such rich and beautiful and fun memories with them.
 

Last Day in Xi'an

Today was yet another big day. At 11am, Vivian – a student from QinHuangDao – and Cat met us at our hostel; from here we went to lunch and then on to the history museum. We wandered through the museum for a few hours, viewing exhibits ranging from pre-history through the dynastic period. We admired artifacts of bronze and clay, viewed several brief videos, and chatted with one another as we sauntered through the very nice, very modern building.

Conversation with Cat was interesting. Once he walked up and told me, “You know, during the Tang dynasty, a woman was considered very beautiful if she was fat.” We had other conversations as well, one in particular sparked by an exhibit on Buddhism in China. “This is like your Jesus,” he told me as we stood in front of a replica of a Buddhist shrine. I responded, “Well… It’s a little different.” We had a good conversation, short though it was. During another brief conversation, he told me very seriously that he thinks I need to learn more Chinese, because I could do very well. I think he is the first person to both sincerely compliment my pronunciation and exhort me to learn more. I heard him – I know I need to learn more, and his challenge is ringing through my mind, making me wonder where I will be living and travelling in the future. 

After finishing the rounds through the museum (It’s a great museum, by the way. If you’re ever in Xi’an, you should go. And it’s free.), we continued on to visit the pagoda. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into as we boarded another bus. One stop later, we de-bused (not actually a word) and continued on foot. We walked through a very modern (and oddly deserted) center with beautiful storefronts and empty restaurants, past the Baskin Robins that apparently exists in China, and out onto a plaza with stairs and trees and fountains and a view of a beautiful, large pagoda. 

Moseying in the general direction of the pagoda, we took in the sights that surrounded us. Some of the grass was green. The water in the fountains was flowing, adding to the serenity of the place. People were walking and talking; children were playing. Vendors selling snacks and fun trinkets were settled in their semi-permanent booths. A man was writing characters on the ground with a giant calligraphy brush dipped in water (the characters just fade away after a few minutes like nothing happened). All of this we took in as we walked, but one thing drew us to a stop. 

Off the main way, there was a sight that will never cease to bring delight to my heart. A group of men and women – if not entirely, then mostly – comprised of senior citizens were gathered together, dancing. Some carried brightly colored umbrellas, some waved even brighter fans, and all danced together to the beat of drums. Watching these people performing their simple yet elegant show, my eyes were continually drawn to their faces. What I saw there was joy, concentration, poise, confidence… These performances provide a glimpse of the beauty, grace, and dignity of a mature generation as they celebrate and partake in a unique outpouring of Chinese culture. 

Were it up to me, we would have lingered longer here, but the group moved on, past the pagoda that we didn’t pay to enter, turning back at the square where many people were out flying kites. 

An evening of getting destroyed at cribbage, a return visit to our new favorite baozi restaurant (that we wish we could bring home to Harbin), a repack of my bag, and I am ready to face tomorrow.

Come 5am, we are peacing out of the Han Tang Inn. Come 8ish am, we are bidding adieu to Xi’an. Come 10am, Hello, Guangzhou.

Off to Guangzhou!

Sabbatical Day 3: the 'bin Team Visits the Terracotta Warriors

 January 13, 2012

Over the past two days here, I have struggled with this feeling that I am wasting time here, that we aren’t doing anything important. This morning I got up and found myself face to face with my good and gracious Father who has blessed our team with a vacation. As He has given the Sabbath for rest each week, time set apart for His glory and our sanctification, so also He sometimes calls us to vacation. That word still makes me uncomfortable, so I think from now on, I’m going to refer to this excellent break as a sabbatical. With fresh perspective and renewed joy, let us move on!

Day 3 of sabbatical found my friends and me on a tour from our hostel to the Terracotta Warriors and the Qinshihuang Tomb. Also on our tour were two other teachers from America and two girls from the U.K. – 18-year old English teachers from Britain and Scotland (SO BRAVE). After an hour-long bus ride and successfully avoiding a near-accident (No, not the bus. Me – I made it to the WC in time! Don’t ever drink most of a nalgene within an hour of getting on a tour bus.), we arrived at the excavation campus.

The warriors are incredible! If you ever have a chance to see them, do. The archaeological dig is still in progress, which – at least in my humble opinion – actually made the whole thing cooler. There were moments when I was tempted to think something ridiculous like It all looks the same. But in those moments I was repeatedly reminded that it doesn’t. Each warrior is unique, reflecting its maker, a man who had given his life as a worker – a slave – required to contribute to a clay army commissioned to protect the emperor after his death. 

On one hand, this sight is worth seeing for its sheer awesomeness. 8000 clay warriors have been uncovered so far, all of which larger than life and intricate in detail, originally coated in unnervingly life-like paint. Before they were ransacked a couple thousand years ago, they all stood in battle formation, armed and ready to defend the emperor. Many of them stand thusly today.

On the other hand, it is worth seeing as a commemoration of a human tragedy. Thousands of lives devoted to this project were ended unnaturally early to satisfy a crazed ruler’s desire for a secret army to defend him where nothing of this earth actually can. The emperor’s tomb is still buried in a hill too full of mercury to be excavated, but his sacrificial workmen are well-commemorated, their faces forever etched in the clay.

These thoughts were still tumbling through my head as we watched a 360 degree movie, a re-enactment of a battle that reminded me of Monty Python enough to break up my thoughtfulness. Following the movie, we followed our tour guide to lunch and shared dishes with our new friends from another hostel. After the hour-long bus ride back into town, we opted for some down-time and are enjoying each other and enjoying our hostel. Soon we will go find some delicious food. 

Until next time. :)

Xi'an!!

January 11, 2012 

I’m not totally sure what to write tonight. It’s been a day.

We are sitting in a youth hostel in Xi’an. We just came back upstairs after spending a little time downstairs singing along to live music and chatting with a couple men from Australia. It was a little awkward but now we are happily back upstairs, enjoying each others’ company and enjoying the bunk bed situation that makes this feel a bit like camp.

Today was fuller than we originally planned. I started my day at 8am, reading in one of the comfy chairs in the hallway. I then headed downstairs for breakfast, the first real meal I’d had in a couple days. I made friends with a girl from Brazil who just finished school and is celebrating by travelling around China by herself. (So brave!) After breakfast, I explored a little and found myself sitting on the roof of our hostel, in an awesome swing-chair, reading a good book. 

I was sitting outside reading. And I wasn’t wearing a coat. And I wasn’t cold.

Let’s pause for a moment there and reflect on the weather and on my changed definition of the word tropical. This morning, when I heard birds singing as I stepped out onto the roof, tropical was the first word in my mind. Later in the day, I saw a tree that reminded me of a palm tree, and there it was again, a gentle whisper on the 40 degree breeze: tropical…

Yesterday, the high temperature in Harbin was about 3 degrees Fahrenheit. Last night when we landed in Xi’an at 9pm, the temperature was 3 degrees centigrade… 37 degrees Fahrenheit. No, it’s not tropical, but yes, it’s VERY warm here :D 

We spent the day wandering around the Muslim Quarter, enjoying pao mo (pow mo-a… it’s really tasty), delighting in the traditional architecture that is less common than most people imagine, and feeling the freedom and peace of vacation in a new city. One of the places we ventured as tourists today was to the Great Mosque. It was established in the Eighth Century. There was so much history within those gates; I would love to return during one of the prayer times, to see the space fulfilling its purpose as a gathering place for people offering up prayers to God. The time we spent in the courtyards left me wishing I could read Arabic (and Chinese) and our time at the Mosque left me really peaceful, the effect of time spent in space built by people who love God for the purpose of worshiping God and bringing Him glory in the earth. 

When we got back, we met up with Sunny’s brother (Sunny is a good friend at HEC, a Chinese English teacher with a great heart. We love her!) Her brother – Cat – lives in Xi’an and he very generously treated us to Korean food at a place he goes every week with his wife. After dinner, he took us back to the Muslim Quarter and we got to enjoy the sights in the dark. We are now very familiar with that part of town.

That brings us back to where we started (although I unintentionally left out our post-Cat McFlurries pitstop. Hen hao Chi.) I have to sleep now, because I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow!

Okay, here we go, 2012!

This is a pomelo.

Sittin’ in my kitchen room thing, nommin’ on a pomelo, catching up on dear friends’ blogs. That is how I’ve spent the last thirty minutes, giving my itching hands time to recover from (rather foolishly) hand washing two rounds of clothes instead of taking them down the hall to a washing machine. 

It has been good to soak in the words and voices of women who walked through the last season of life with me. I found comfort just knowing that they are still the women I walked with, studied with, sang with, prayed with. 

The past few days have been full of attempts to close the semester – through reflection time, evaluations, long-overdue conversations with friends here, and lots of time spent with my Father. It has left several of us aching to be better known by the people around us, knowing that it’s only been five months… and knowing also that this time next year we’ll be wishing the people around us could understand what we went through at HEC in Harbin, China.

Continuing to pick at my pomelo, I know I have more to say. It has something to do with being thousands of miles away from those friends who know me best. It has something to do with the fact that I know many more such separations await me in the immediate and distant future. It has something to do with knowing that there are pieces of me scattered all around the world and knowing that the pieces will never fully come together… at least not this side of Glory. 

There is but one relationship that has remained consistent through the adventures, sorrows, and mundane details of the past five and a half years. There is only One person who knows where I’ve been. Fortunately, there is no one with whom I would rather share all that has transpired than with my Father/Friend/Counselor/Master/Physician/Love.

The pomelo is back in my fridge (they’re huge). My clothes are drip drying all over my kitchen and bathroom. The time for lunch at The End is rapidly approaching, and an afternoon of fellowship with beautiful women (watching North and South!) awaits at Lin Da. 

Off I go, fully present but deeply aware of where I’ve been and wondering what waits further down the road.