Pancake Breakfast: A How-To Guide

Step One: Make pancakes from scratch.

Step Two: Add in final, crucial ingredient.

Step Three: Pour pancakes on griddle and wait.

Step Four: Set the table, complete with forks, syrup, butter, and peanut butter.

Step Five: Let students play your piano

Step Five-and-a-Half: Teach your teacher your Chinese name. Your English name is for classroom use only.

Step Six: Explain what butter is to students

Step Seven: Eat, enjoy, and pose for a picture!

Emily, Jessica, Melody

Step Eight *at your own risk*: Show pictures and answer questions about family. This includes your  brothers senior picture. Note, you run the risk students taking a picture of a picture to keep forever and having them want to marry your younger siblings.

Beauty of...

You've been through school. You know that teachers are under intense magnifying glasses all the time. Every move they make, what they eat for breakfast, when they go to the bathroom, all noticed by their students. You know you freaked out when you saw your school teacher, professor, school nurse, or even cafeteria monitor at the grocery store. I know kids freak out, I've been to Wegmans with my mom a time or two ...or twelve thousand. [My southern and worldwide readers, I strongly encourage you to check out Wegmans here if you have no idea what Im talking about]. What made me think that kids in China wouldn't do the same thing? I have no idea.

Tonight, we had dinner with some upperclass students. This was truly a new experience for me as we had natural conversations at a natural pace...not talking to freshman here! We had a lovely dinner conversation hosted by Zero, a sophomore student. This kid could talk your ear off for hours and he's super personable and super curious about everything. We learned a [hilarious] tidbit of information tonight.

(Some prior knowledge you might what to know: ever since day one, Lauren has frequently been asked about her heritage, whether or not she is a Chinese girl. Her student's originally thought she was Chinese!) 

 

Our conversation went something like this:

Julia: "Oh, perhaps we shouldn't tell you, but it is funny."

Lauren: "What is so funny, you can tell us"

Julia: "Ahh, the students have names for you. But they won't tell you."

Lauren: "What are they?"

Julia: [with a grin plastered on her face] "Well, they call Miss Lauren the 'Beauty of China'"

--everyone laughs--

Julia: "They call you, Miss Laura, the 'Beauty of India.'"

--more outrageous laughter--

Julia: "And you, Miss Kayla are"

Zero: "the Beauty of Russia!"

Julia is this wonderful spitfire. She is the girl who will walk in the office and beeline to my desk for a hug. She is the girl who was the class monitors for one of our freshman classes. She calls them "her babies". Julia is this radiant spirit who truly only reaches my ribcage, but she is that girl you can't help but to fall in love with.

Julia: "Miss Kayla, you did not listen to my words. I told you to wear more clothes."

Kayla: "Julia, I am wearing two layers! Remember, I am from New York so I am native to the cold."

Julia: "That doesn't matter. You are a guest here. You can't catch a cold. You did not listen." [she jokingly huffs away]

Later in the convenient store, I purchase two candy bars and afterwards slide one into Julias coat pocket. She noticed the change in weight.

Julia: "Ahh, Miss Kayla. The next time I see you I will give this back to you, only if you are wearing more clothes."

Kayla: "Julia but what if I want you to keep it and eat it. Maybe I will not wear more clothes on purpose.

Julia: "Ah, very well. I will have to rethink the situation."

Freshman are Freshman

I teach freshman everyday. I was fortunate enough to only have the “freshman experience” one time. Even having been in ResLife I worked with upperclass students; no need to ever return to those freshman dorms again, leaving behind all the memories and the ‘person’ that resided there. Now, I am not tossing away my freshman experience into oblivion. I am simply saying that when I think of “college”, nothing of freshman year ever comes up; not to say that it is insignificant, but simply that I don’t want to remember.

Every day I am teaching students who are dealing with the struggles of being a freshman. At dinner, I hear their stories of how they feel like they do not have any friends, how they miss home. Girls can be so difficult, and each of my classes has a 1:11 male-female ratio. My girls are having a hard time getting along with one another, having a hard time fitting in.

Just so it’s clear: Chinese freshman struggle with the same exact things as American freshman. They procrastinate, they are overwhelmed by work, they are homesick, they do things to be “cool”. They too are beginning this college journey of finding their ‘identity’. 

It is neat to be a teacher and watch them begin to unveil all of this.

It is hard to be a teacher and watch them begin to unveil all of this.

And then I receive journal entries such as this that simply break my heart and motivate me to speak to these students, truly speak.

“I love all the people who love me.

I hate all the people who hate me.

It is in my heart.”

Bended Road, Bended Knee

First of all, I must start by saying this: Yesterday we hit a high of 70 degrees. We were able to walk around and take photo shoots such as this. This morning, I was graced with a beautiful gray sky and white fluffys bustling about outside my window. I must say for as shocked as I was to see them, I was mystified as I watched them float by. I’ve never lived on the sixth floor before, I’ve never had the opportunity to watch snow fall from six stories up. Truly, it paints a different view, and now I have a different perspective. Maybe, if for nothing else, I’m looking forward to the winter ahead just for the different perspective that snow from the sixth floor can bring. Thank you, China.

This is what I thought my day was going to look like today:

That would be masses of paperwork and a rather lengthy to-do list.

Instead it looked something like this:

Today includes a webcam, many glasses of tea, a notebook, a Book, some serious journaling...and don't forget the podcasts.

I awoke [to my amazement] at 8:30. First of all, I would like to document this day as being my first day in Harbin to wake up after 8am. For those of you who truly know me, you are aware of my love and need for sleep in my life. Since coming to China, particularly Harbin, my plans and need to do so have been thwarted day in and day out as loud, resonant music has filled the campus daily at 6am, or how fireworks are a common occurrence at wee morning hours.

I thought my day was going to be spent completing a to-do list. Completing the to-do list would set me to be well prepared for this week of lessons ahead. I thought my day was going to be spent grading the massive exam I gave my students three days ago. Grading these tests and returning results to my students as quickly as possible would surely be a service and testament to my students.

Instead my day began with a podcast from David Platt. That continued into a beautiful skype call with my parents {hi mom, hi dad…hi Nick! :)}. That turned into lunch with my teammate, Tiffany. That turned into a two hour deep conversation which led us back to my apartment, yearning for some more words of wisdom through David Platt. So we listened to him through yet another podcast. That led us into more deep conversations and sharing and discovering and encouraging, which by that point led us to dinner.

All that to say, the road that I had laid out for myself for today certainly is not what happened. I was able to enjoy quality time with a beloved teammate(ding ding ding ding!!). I was able to delight in the presence of Him with my teammate. Together, we had quality time on Bended Knee, seeking, yearning, expressing, loving, thanking, praising…adoring. We were able to identify a new call that has been put upon us as people women, as His children. I’m walking away from today with many new questions, a new curiosity to a part of my identity I have yet to explore, a deeper longing for answers as to who I and who we are created to be. It’s left me on a different road, a different course than I thought I would be encountering whilst in China. Isn’t it enough to just be English teachers, learn a new language, live in a new culture and build a few solid relationships along the way? Oh…oh wait, there’s more. Wait, You’re actually preparing me for life through this experience? You mean You really do want me, want us, to bask in the hearts that You’ve given us? This has nothing to do with teaching…

He says, “Woah nelly, but it does.”

girls just wanna

Have I mentioned that my team is wonderful? There is no way I could be doing what I am doing without them. We see each other every day. We live, life on life, together every day. Rarely are we ever separated for more than 12 hours; it is a beautiful thing. We are lively young adults, teaching English and loving students day in and day out.

Being in China, one of the many lessons that I have learned is the culture of southern America. I’ve been a Northeasterner my whole life. Now, I am living life on life with three [amazingly awesome fantablous and radiant] Southern Belles. I’ve learned that college football is a way of life. I’ve learned a pocketful of new vocabulary including words and phrases such as “mightcould”, “fixin’ to”, and “janky”. I’ve learned that life is taken to a whole new extreme in the south. That is a small sampling.

“What do you do for fun?”

I am living with Lauren Ketron. By default, I have become an Auburn University football fan. Now, I even know one of their cheers. This is what we do for fun. 

Major props to Michael who experienced this live and had the courage to even stay in the room with us.

Creatures of Worship

I blame my love of reading for destroying the word “creature”. When I hear the term ‘creature’ I automatically think of Gollum in the Lord of the Rings series. J.K. Rowling did the term a little more justice in creating the fictional house elves, but to refer to humans as ‘creatures’? We don’t have disproportional noses and ears, nor do we use all four limbs to walk [or at least if we do, it is for a limited time only…like shamrock shakes].

I thought that college was a time for discovering your identity. Apparently this is a lifelong process…who knew?? ;) Anyways, there is a new identity that keeps punching me in the face (basically) and that is that I, that we, are creatures of worship. Do I truly know what this means? Not a blessed clue, but I can tell you that I’m at least trying to put one foot in front of the other in terms of discovering the truth in this statement.

This is the first time in eight years that I am not singing for a grade. I came to that realization the other day as I was painting a wall. KaBlooM. [mind blown].  Now don’t get me wrong. I would give anything to sing with Concert Choir or One College Ave again (particularly now as this weekend is homecoming at Messiah College). Community worship, community singing is something that fills a specific void in every soul whether you can carry a tune or not…but I’m rabbit trailing. That’s a blog for another day.

One week ago. Painting a wall, fingers and hair doused with specks of blue, in a room with no furniture (awesome acoustics), and an ipod and speakers and here I am… here we are [as there were others from my team as well] simply singing, simply serving. There was no grade to worry about, no worries about cracking or how that vowel sound should be produced. Not a care in the world that Chris Tomlin sets all of his music in unrealistically high keys. All of us together, some singing line for line, others joining in for a line here or a line there, some singing a completely different song over top of the other because they compliment each other well [hmmm…can you guess who did that?] And best of all we were singing to a Creator. Looking around at us in this half-painted room it was Revealed to me that “this is what we were made to do”. In discovering one’s identity sooner or later the question of purpose is going to be posed. What a simpler answer than we were created to worship our Creator. In all that we do: words and actions. There’s my life’s purpose. Boo-yah.

To quote on of my beloved teammates, Miss Tiffany (or as I loving refer to her, Auntie Tiff-Tiff) “what does that mean?”. I’m about to go all technical on you here. First of all, you couldn’t pay me enough money to do the job that Webster did, but you have to admit that he {and others, I’m sure} created one stellar dictionary. He says that worship is “an extreme devotion or intense love or admiration of any kind.” Well, that’s nice. I love many things. I’m devoted to many things. How do I know which of my loves and priorities ‘wins’ so to speak?

That’s where Louie Giglio came to help me out. He’s got a book that has some good stuff in it. I wouldn’t give it five stars, but just because a reference isn’t of epic-life-changing quality doesn’t mean that it can’t speak truth. There was one phrase that put the final piece of my puzzle together for me.

“Whatever you worship, you become obsessed with. Whatever you become obsessed with, you imitate. And whatever you imitate, you become.”

Louie Giglio, “The Air I Breathe: Worship as a Way of Life”

Boo-yah. Now, keep in mind that I said my puzzle. Not your puzzle. Not his, not hers. Who I become is the end result of Who I worship. And please know that I do realize that I’m writing this out much simpler than it actually is. Yet in the beauty and complexity of all that worship is, it really is quite simple. I take ownership of that fact that I am a life-long learner in this process. I just thought I’d take the opportunity to splash you with a sprinkling of one [of the many] lessons that is in progress at the moment.

This dude knows what worship is all about.

Insight

Today I got to experience something for the first time. I am a teacher, I have been a student-teacher, but I have never been a substitute teacher. That is, until today. The students I taught today were sophomore level Russian majors to whom I could speak English at a normal pace with [someone explain to me how Russian majors have better English than the English majors?].

From these Russian majors I gained valuable insight. I told them that in China many times people think I am Russian. Really and truly I find this hilarious because whether you know it or not, Americans basically scream “I’m American” no mater where they go worldwide. We have a tendency to stand out which is not always a good thing.

“Do I look Russian to you?” I asked.

“Yes, yes, very much.”

“…why?”

“Your eyes, so bright!”

“Your long nose!”

“Your crazy hair!”

The world makes perfect sense.

The American Exhibit

October Holiday is basically the greatest thing known to man kind. It’s this entire week where schools all across China go on ‘holiday’. That means a week of no classes for us! Instead we’ve spent some quality time with the city of Harbin and its peoples. One day may be more memorable than all the others.

All-those-Americans part 1

All-those-Americans part 2

There is a river that flows in Harbin. On this river there is an island, known as “Sun Island”. To get to it, you can either drive or take a ferry. Trust me: the ferry is the cooler option. It’s fun when you can go exploring by yourself, but there are other times when it’s fun to go exploring in a group of 15. There are various city teams here in Harbin, and being that it’s holiday, many others came to our city to visit.

The tickets we received from the ferry also granted us access into one [of the many] parks on the island. We just so happened to obtain tickets to the Russian park. Yes, a park that was dedicated to Russia. Despite the fact that I can speak neither of the languages, let me tell you, it was cool!

One of the most memorable parts of the day was the crowds that we gathered. Trust me, we did this unintentionally. We had all brought a picnic lunch so we picked a spot of grass just off the main road to eat our lunches and to chit chat with one another. Little did we know that we would soon turn into the “latest and greatest” exhibit in the entire park. Three times we were asked if we could pose for pictures, merely eating our lunch (ps, we turned them down). Like animals in a zoo, people stopped dead in their tracks and watched us partake in the everyday task of eating. For minutes they would stop and stare and discuss amongst themselves, pointing if necessary as we chewed and swallowed. Some didn’t even ask is they could take a picture with us… they just did!

Posing for a picture in front of the Americans.

All in all, the weather was absolutely glorious, the community of people refreshing, and the quality time spent with those that I live with revitalizing. 

I guess this would be the most appropriate time to post ...

Number of times I've been mistaken for a Russian : 9

Dinner & Dorms [part 2]

More than 2,800 women, 14 floors, one elevator.

We waited in quite the line as our girls all live on the 14^th floor and there was simply no way that our legs would be able to endure fourteen flights of stairs. We made it to their room, so happy to allow us to sit on their bed as they stood around and talked to us.

“do-re-mi-do, do-re-mi-do…” she began to sing. I chimed in with the remaining solfege. Same song, same language? The remaining girls began to chime in with the Chinese [just for the record, they sing about a little tiger, we sing ‘are you sleeping?’]. The music major in me became overly happy and in go-go mode. “Miss Kayla, there is a song. I want to learn. Doe, a deer…”. Oh happiness, oh joy! So in the small cubicle of a dorm room, with lots of listening and repeating I taught one of the Sound of Music’s most beloved songs to four eager Chinese women. The power of music, people.

We could have stayed there all night, but there were so many other people to see. “Miss Laura, Miss Kayla, come see our room!” Each of these dorm rooms were about the size of a dorm room at my college. However, six girls were living in one room. Let’s talk about living in community! So from room to room we bounced, saying hello, listening to stories, and watching them act out the stories when their vocabulary wasn’t sufficient enough. Quite entertaining, let me tell you. With these women we laughed and laughed, catching glimpses of who they are.

We were dragged into 1422 where a posse of women we anxiously excited to greet us and to allow us to sit on their furniture. From there a 15 minute photoshoot ensued, documenting the fact that the foreign teachers in fact came to visit. There were squeals and giggles and “yi, er, san" [1,2,3] after "yi, er, san”. So many photos and so many smiles.

Ten o’clock rolled around way too quickly {we have a curfew.} We walked away from the dorm with smiles on our faces and a renewed purpose of why we are here. We couldn’t stop laughing, overcome with joy and excitement and love for what we had just encountered. We will be making these dorm visits a frequent thing throughout the upcoming months.

Meet the beautiful ladies of 1422 (well, four of them).