The Halloween Post

I can say little about Halloween in China. Most Chinese have never heard of it. Most Chinese don't even believe in Ghosts. When I asked my Freshman class (fifty-three girls, one guy) if any of them believed ghosts exist, fifty-three gave a resounding no and one brave little girl in the fifth row said yes. I, like Jerry Garcia, am more intrigued by the one girl that said yes than I am the fifty-three that said no. Anyone brave enough to stand out in a group orientated culture is usually very set in her beliefs. But I'll save that conversation for another day, because shortly thereafter the bell rang and I had to move on to another class.

I don't know how you feel on the subject, but I think ghosts exists. I also believe, and this will probably ruffle some feathers, it's a requirement for anyone who claims to hold the big C nomenclature. The N.T. is rife with demons and supernatural, and to claim their nonexistence is dangerous; because then you have to concoct an incredible post-modern explanation to justify an opinion that contradicts the very essence of the canonical works on which base your beliefs (that essence being that there is something beyond this world). At the very most you can actively ignore the issue, but you can't really deny it. You can try, but the result would probably be more comical than serious.

Some sailors were in boat and they saw a man walking on water, and they were scared. Why were they scared? Because they thought they saw a ghost.

J.C. shows up in a room of crowded people without coming through the door. The people in the room are startled because, well, they thought they were seeing a ghost. And his response? "How can I be a ghost? A ghost doesn't have flesh and bones!" This would have been a prime opportunity to squash all belief in something that doesn't exist, but instead he says "This is difference between me and a spirit." He did more to justify their existence than he did to deny it, and it seems to me that if his followers were so blatantly wrong about something he would correct it, but he didn't. Some food for thought.

I also believe in ghosts, as only nine or ten of my good friends know, because I have seen one myself. During the summer a few years ago, I accompanied my friend on a short trip out to his house; he needed somethings for college, and it was summer and I had nothing better to do. It was a Sunday night and the two of us were alone in the house, just talking in the kitchen. He needed to use the restroom and, being that the only bathroom was on the second floor, left me in the kitchen eating twisty cheeze-its. Now at this time, I was facing a doorframe that led into a living room which had an entrance way into the family room. Two minutes after he left, I glanced up to see, via the entrance way, the tail end of something walking across the family room. I started to say "Well that was qui..."

And then the toilet flushed.

We were stark alone this house, my friend is not one to play pranks, and this way no shadow. I told my friend and he informed me of half a dozen instances in the house that he could never explain. And well, it all makes out for a good story. Of course, it's not good to focus on these things too much, but it's Halloween and I'm in the spirit.

I think Haley and I will be having a two person Halloween party tonight. It's good to get away from all Chinese influences and have American time. Plus I don't think my students would understand the concept of a costume party. As far as costumes go, I think Haley will be dressing up like a Chinese student, and I, much to the delight of my mother, will be dressing up like Hugh Hefner. Hey, it's all I have.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

The last few days.

Whoo, I don't feel like writing. It's been a extremely busy three or four days, way too much to write in one blog post. So, in an effort to entertain the masses, I will give you a brief gamut of all the highlites of this past weekend:

*I was teaching about lieing today in class when I said "It's very bad to lie, I never lie unless it means I will hurt the person's feeling by telling them the truth. Even then, I don't think it's a good thing to do."
One of my students: "Like when you told us you had four or five girlfriends?"

*Yesterday (and today for that matter) for the first time in the history of the world, Jonathan Harrison ran three miles. I remember the first time I ran a mile. It was one of the coldest days in the year, and the SAC was nearly empty: it was me, an old man, and the guy working desk. I hit the 8/13 mark and I said to myself "Today is the day. Today for the first time in your life that you will run a mile!" And I did. I remember the first time I ran two miles as well. It was a pretty warm day on a track in China. I hit the mile mark and I said to myself "Man, I'm not winded, I could run two miles!" Isn't it funny how things that happen so long ago only seem like yesterday in our minds? In fact, it seems like it was just last week...

*So on Saturday morning Nate and I were invited by a student to go to a "park" with a Chinese business man. Now there are many people whose enthusiasm to become friends with a native speaker drains the very life out of you. This was one of those instances. For beginners (this story will be long, sorry) we were told to meet at the school gate at ten on Saturday morning. At eight-thirty that morning the student calls and says "The time has been changed to nine." Thanks for the advanced warning, and then (you will love this) The same guy calls as 8:55 asking "Where are you?" That's a quick way to lose a new friend. To continue, we drive about two and a half hours (90% of the trip being hairpin mountain curbs) to this mountain park that is UNDER CONSTRUCTION! After climbing 1,336 wet cement steps (I could write an entire blog post on steps) to the top, we are told by the construction workers that the Americans cannot proceed because of the danger. Well, this doesn't stop everyone else, including the other American, but I stop ascending at the point where the steps stop and the ropes begin. I descend in a rather quick manner and waited at the bottom of the mountain for a total of three hours--I played with a puppy, was given a one hour Chinese lesson by a extremely friendly construction worker, and ruminated on the absence of my adventerous spirit. The others came back, we at a restaurant in a small village (which unknownlingy carved itself in history as the subject of my future food blog post), and then drove the rest of the way back through hairpin curbs and rain. I was slightly nauseated. Oh we also chased a pig down the road for about 100 feet. It was one of the highlites of my life.

*I've been on an internet fast for the last few days. This is the reason for the no blog posts and what not. I spend way too much time doing pointless things.

That's pretty much it. Hope everyone is doing well. The food post is coming, trust me. Just give me a few more days.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."


SOOOOWEEEE! HERE PIG PIG PIG PIG PIG PIG! SOOOOWEEEE! (Man I love typing that). So you thought I meant some California pot-belly oinker? No these swine are huge. I'm sure they rule the Chinese countryside in some Conradian nightmare akin to the Heart of Darkness. They walk around uninhibited, like lions on the Serengeti. Really why was a two hundred pound pig walking down the side of an isolated road? I mean where was it going? Why was it there? Did it escape? Does it have a home? This is not the first time this has happened. I saw two random battleship size pigs walking down the road the last time I left the city. And, on top of all these observations, I'm pretty sure (and my Dad will correct me if I'm wrong) pigs this big are some of the meanest creatures alive. This one wanted to fight with our car until it realized that we were slightly bigger. Well lets just say that that if I ever met one in the wild I'm thankful that I would probably out run it. I'm pretty sure sows this big can't run three miles. Although I think they can climb trees (or is that bears?). Anyway, have a good day.

The Blackest Man in Enshi

You'll never believe what I heard. I walked into one of the local grocery stores and emanating from a loudspeaker, straight out of St. Louis, was that song where the kids say:

"Do your chain hang low? Do it wobble to the flo? Do it shine in the light? Is it platinum, Is it gold? Could you throw it over ya shoulda? If ya hot, it make ya cold. Do your chain hang low?" (punctuation added)

And I was like "Ya buddy, CHAIN. That's what I'm saying Jibbs is my homeboy!" Except I wasn't. But the song made me happy, and then it made me sad; because there was no one to share in my happiness. It made me happy (and then sad) for a variety of reasons. First, I thought Chain was a regional hit in the southern United States. I guess it found it's way out of the South. I dont know what Jibbs would think if he knew that "Chain" was playing in a isolated Chinese city of 200k people, but I bet he probably wouldn't care. Second, and this should make you smile, if anyone in this city deserves to be enjoying that song, it's me. I'm from the its region, I've heard of the term rhythm, I'm tall and have curly hair, I'm a minority. Yes that's right, it all adds up: I am the blackest man in Enshi. Laugh, laugh all you want. If you were here you would agree with me. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going listen to some Hall & Oates.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

p.s. I also have the slight beginnings of a head cold. Which means I didn't run today, which makes me sadder than words can tell. I think I am going to take some nyquil and wake up about mid-december.

p.s.s. Maybe you should just give me your email and I will let you know when I finally get around to the food post. I'm hating food right now, except my Chocolate bread. I love me some Chocolate bread.

Well I'm making it public...

So Haley and a I were eating lunch today when she said "You know we've been here two months?" And I said "No we haven't, we left on the twenty-fourth, so we still got a couple of days." Then I looked at the calendar, for some reason I thought it was the twenty second. It's been two months. So sit back and enjoy the blog post that has been two months in the making...

For a myriad of reasons, and I believe most everyone has heard through the rumor mill by now, China and I will be breaking up around the first of the year. We've had about three or four bad weeks together, and I don't see this relationship improving. So I decided to end it early about three weeks ago. Of course, we'll still be together for a couple of more months just for posterity's sake, but as of mid-January China and I will "just be friends" for the foreseeable future. Leaving China early has been one of the toughest choices I have ever made--one that has revealed several things about myself that I did not know before, and well it's not pretty--but I can't think of a decision that has put me more at ease. China and I weren't meant to be, and I can say that with some confidence; the cultural high lasted about two days, then culture shock hit and lasted about two weeks, and then that subsided and a month and a half later I still want out. I don't want to dilute the term "miserable" by describing my self as just that; because I'm not. However, China exposed some serious issues that I won't fix by staying for ten months and doing damage to myself and no good for other people.

THINK about me (keep cool with the jargon here people) because I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would come to a foreign country and discover that I am a bigot. Or it could be the exact opposite, and I just want to have a conversation with someone that respects me for who I am and not some superficial characteristic that I cannot control. I really can't tell the two apart, but I believe the latter has lead to the former. Either way it has been wearing me down for the last few weeks (I should go to a country where the people arn't nice, you know like New York City). I love these people, but it's just these aspects that have made basic human communication a bear and because of that burden I've turned into a hermit living off the basic essentials in life: facebook, guitar, email, water and chocolate bread (and running, man am I starting to love running). I do leave the apartment daily, but even those ventures usually lead to thinking the things I wrote about on my blog yesterday. This country and it's people are wonderful, probably the nicest in the world, but like I said the problem is all mine.

Oh well, this has been a pretty intimate post. I hope the random guy in Montana that ran into this blog on accident enjoyed it; or maybe the friend I haven't talk to since middle school; or the college classmate I've never talked to in my entire life, who has been secretly facebook stalking me for the past year (you know who you are); or maybe even one of my students. It's interesting finding out who actually reads this thing. I just discovered I have 90 hits on my empty profile page. I'm sorry about that, if I knew people were looking at it I would have put something there. Any way, have a good night, all you crazy Americans out there.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

Another long day

I am getting real tired of this circus bear act real quick. I don't know if the attention is this bad in bigger cities, but it's about to send me medieval on some poor unsuspecting Chinese English student. You can't go anywhere in public without two dozen Chinese people yelling "HELLO!" from across the street, inside of stores, right behind you, above you on ledges, underneath the ground, inside your soul, etc. And if you say hello back, which I normally do, they get so tickled you make their day. I guess one half of these hello's are the Chinese being friendly, but the other part is a game the Chinese play to see if the waigoren will say hello back. I know it's innocent, but I still can't shake the feeling that I'm an animal in a zoo that keeps getting pelted with peanuts just to see if I will move.

(what's that scene in Dumbo? Where dumbo is being harassed by a group of young boys and then mama Jumbo gets mad and comes in and goes loco on their unsuspecting tails, but because she does it she gets incarcerated and separated from Dumbo and every time you watch the movie you know it's about to happen and your like "NO MAMA JUMBO DON'T DO IT!" But you know she's going to do it anyway and all she is trying to do is protect her baby [I mean that's all she is trying to do man!] but you know if she protects her baby she could possibly never see him again so you are screaming at the T.V for her not to do it, but you know she is going to do it and nothing can stop her, and the entire time your thinking that maybe this is the time that Mama Jumbo won't get mad and Dumbo and Jumbo won't be separated and everyone can avoid all the pain, but she does it every time and the separation takes a piece out of your soul even though you know they will be reunited at the end on the train with the blackbirds singing "When I see an elephant flyyyyiiiiiii!" And that Walt Disney was a genius and would you believe I haven't seen this movie since I was ten?)

Oh, and did I mention that this happens every time you go out in public? Yea. Everytime.

One of my favorite people in the whole city is the girl who works at the dumpling place I frequent every day. She gives me as much attention as a brentwood soccer mom; it's great. I don't think she knows I'm an American. I paid her for dumplings a couple of days ago and she looked straight through me. Didn't even smile. Made my day. No joke.

I've just had another long day, and that's probably the reason for the negativity. The school has the start of a sports meeting tomorrow, and I don't have to teach class until next Monday--unless it rains. It's raining now, but I think it should stop by tomorrow morning. I have also lost control of all my classes, they've started to get up and leave the room like it's a coffee shop. I'll have to turn into a disciplinarian, which is something I wanted to avoid. Believe me, I started this whole semester with the "Start tough and ease up" ideology. I went into my class and tried to scare them into thinking that I wouldn't take any misbehavior from anyone. Then I discovered later that the "scary" section of my first day lecture hit the language barrier going about 90 m.p.h. and died there on the spot. They didn't understand a single word I said. It took the wind out of my sails. Oh well, I'm really starting to hate this whole teaching thing.

Wow. This has been an uplifting one. At least I left the part out about the bordello.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

p.s. Sorry, I couldn't resist. It's a little known fact that there is a bordello across street from our college. Funny story actually. This bordello looks like a nice Chinese hotel. One day I was walking with one of my students and thought I might inquire about a possible place for my parents to stay if they were to come visit me. So I pointed to the Hotel and said:
"How much does it cost to stay there?"
"What?!" My student said.
"How much does it cost to stay at that hotel?"
"Nononononononononono."
"What?"
"Nononononononononono."
"Huh?"
"Bad place. Don't go."
"Bad place? It sure looks nice to me"
"Nononononononononono."
"Huh? Alright, if you say so. Are you sure that's a bad place."
"Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes."

It took a student with a much better English to finally tell me the place's true identity. I'm glad I didn't go in and inquire myself. Also, besides the two or three people working behind the counter (just like a hotel), no one ever goes in or goes out. I guess buisness is bad. Which is a good thing, or there is a back entrance, which makes you wonder why there is a lobby and three people working the front desk if no one is ever going to use the front entrance. Anyway, one thing is for sure. We're not in America anymore.

p.s.s. this is not the food post, sorry. Give me a few more days.

A little thing happened on a track in Enshi.

Today, on a track in Enshi China, something was accomplished that has never been accomplished in the history of man. Something which the entire world has been itching to see since it's conception. Something unmatched in the unparalleled strength and fortitude that was needed for this event to finally occur. Today on a track in Enshi China, Jonathan Harrison ran two miles.

Without stopping.

At a pretty brisk pace.

And he is still alive.

WHOOOOO! I TOLD MY CRITICS THAT I WOULD RUN TWO MILES! I TOLD MY CRITICS AND YOU DID NOT BELIEVE ME!

Ok enough channeling of Muhammad Ali. It's one thing that I thought I would never accomplish. Something that has been over two or three years in the making. I remember back in the days of college when I never thought I would run one mile (and I remember that day too, it was a cold day during winter break and there was no on in the SAC except a middle-aged man and the guy working behind the counter. And I hit the 3/4 of a mile mark and I said to myself "Today is the day. Today is the first day in your life that you will run one mile." And then I did.), when I would hit 8/13 of a mile and stop because I was winded. I remember back in fourth grade, when I was the most out of shape kid in the entire P.E. class. Coach told us to run 8 laps around the basketball court. And I was still on lap six when all the other guys (and girls) had finished, and I was going to finish those eight laps, I was going to do it. Then coach told me that it was alright and I didn't have to run all eight laps, but I wanted to finish, and he wouldn't let me (and who could blame him, that probably would have taken twenty minutes). NOW I HAVE RUN TWO MILES. At age 22 JONATHAN HARRISON IS IN THE BEST SHAPE OF HIS LIFE!!!!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT? HE'S GOING TO DO IT TOMORROW!!!!!! WHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

p.s. Sorry for all the self-aggrandizing, I need to feel good about something. Also I attended a little "c" family today (or is it big C?) and loved it. Probably because: 1. I got to talk to a woman who studied in Jersey for three years, 2. It is by far the best meal I've had in China (like a buffalo wing vegetable soup, amazzzzing) and 3. No one tried to force feed me alcohol. And I actually took part in the family gathering itself. I wish I could write more about it, but it's pretty obvious why I can't. Anyways WHOOOOOOOO.

EFC: Enshi Fried Chicken

Whoooo, they got some fried chicken over here, and I'm not really sure just what in the heck they fry it in but ten minutes after you eat one piece you get all lightheaded, and the world starts swimming, and the girls seem about ten times prettier but you feel like you are about to throw up or you just don't feel right for the next hour or two. But you feel kind of good. It's weird man. It must be some reallllllly old grease. Or something. Weird.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens"

p.s. This is NOT the food post, I just have to share this with everyone. Really, I don't know what is up with this chicken. But after one bite the world starts spinning and it's weirdest thing. If it was like half a chicken I would understand. But it's just one bite! It's probably not healthy. This is the second time I have been experienced by this chicken. The first time I thought it was me, now I know it is the chicken. And it takes a total of five minutes to hit you. It's really quick. Wow. I hope I don't get addicted. Because the stuff tastes awful.

p.s.s I'm sure I'll get a call in a few hours from my mother telling me to 1. Quit eating the chicken, and 2. Quit telling everyone about it via the blog. I will quit eating the chicken don't worry. In fact, if somebody orders it for me I will turn it down cold (or hot). I don't know if it hits the Chinese the same way it hits americans. Maybe it's a food allergy. Wow. Anyway, man. That is some powerful stuff.

Chinese Orphanage

Today I visited a Chinese orphanage inside of the city. I, of course, was expecting the heart-wrenching poverty and malnourishment that accompanies every visit to a foreign orphanage. However, when we got there we discovered that the place was cleaner than my apartment, overstaffed, and underpopulated with a troop of minor musicians who looked well fed, happy and a lot better off than their peers who have family that want them (well that's the way it looked). And we were also not allowed to take pictures. Sad day. To compensate, here is a picture of me with a stone tiger.

Also, just a warning for you wonderful people sending me letters. Today I got a piece of mail that was sent on September 26. My other American friends gave it to me. It appeared in their mailbox today. At least the country got the nationality right. That is something the USPS would never do. So if you send a letter telling me how cool I am, confessing your undying love, etc. and I never respond, chances are it went back in time to the foreign teachers who taught here before me like in that movie with Sandra Bullock and Keeonoh Reeves. And speaking of Sandra Bullock, apparently Brit ran over somebodies foot with her car. Which requires a few questions to be asked: why does she own a car? why is she driving it? who was the idiot that let her pass her driver's exam? and why is she not in prison yet? Oh come on, it's only a matter time, except this time she'll probably kill someone and then this whole Hiltonlohanspears badgirlz thing won't be cute or funny anymore. Yea, I agree with the main pop culture criticism that making fun of Britney is too easy and we should all move on to harder targets, but those people arn't living in a country that still listens to "Hit Me Baby One More Time". Wait, here I go again.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens,"

p.s. the food blog post is coming. If I did it today you would get a few pictures of leftovers, and I don't think anybody wants that.

Caught

I was eating lunch with two of my second year students when a first year student sat down and asked me "So, what are your girlfriends names?" Well, this confused my second year students, because at the first day of the year I told them that I didn't have a girlfriend in America.
"Well you see, when I told you I didn't have a girlfriend, I meant umm, some girl, ummm..."
"So you have a girlfriend in America?"
"Yes. Four actually."
"Four!"
"Yes. I'm quite popular in America."
"But you told us you only had one girlfriend your entire life?"
"I did? Ummm, yea I did. Ummm. Well girlfriend is a term that can mean a lot of different things."
"So what does it mean in America?"
"It's ummm, someone that you go on dates with, wait, ummm someone you take out to dinner and stuff."
"But you don't want to marry?"
"Exactly, don't want to marry, just go out on dates. I'm too young to get married."
"So when do you want to get married?"
"Ummm. When I'm thirty-four. That sounds like a good age. Thirty-four."
"So you have a girlfriend in America?"
"Yes, umm, four or five."
"You don't know for sure?"
"Yes, I might call a couple of them and find out just what is going on. Maybe three and a half. We'll say three and a half girlfriends. That is a good number. "
"I bet you miss them alot?"
"Sure do."

Today during class, and you might find this funny, I had a craving for Chinese food. I had a craving for American Chinese food. Chinese food is different than Chinese food. I'll write about this in-depth later. Hopefully I will have pictures.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

Future Girlfriends?

So I broke the news to my students. I now officially have "four or five girlfriends" back in the United States. I figured a gargantuan lie is just as bad as a small one (and more impressive). I'm currently taking applications for those four or five coveted spots. Resumes can be emailed to harrisonjd@lipscomb.edu. Please include an 8X10 glamour shot (my Chinese students want to see pictures. Lots and lots of pictures) , and something about how you will always love me or something like that. Applications are due by the end of this week. No late applications will be accepted (unless you are really, really attractive, or just really attractive, or just attractive, or you just send an email. Either way).

The Chinese will ask you one of three things: do you sing? do you play basketball? and do you dance? You have to be an expert at all three, because any denial of physical ability in these hobbies will only lead them to believe that you are modest. Take for example basketball. For the first week I was asked by everyone at the University if I played basketball. I said no, no I don't. This was taken as modesty, until I actually played a game and proved that I couldn't play. And now no one asks me that question anymore. Which makes me wonder why they didn't believe me in the first place. So modest. He is so very very modest.

I think the more time I spend here, the less I have to write about. Which is why this is the first blog post in three days and it's not very long. It will be ending here shortly. Have a good day.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

Haley's Post

Hi,

This is Haley, the 2nd half of Jonathan's China experience. You might say that if I'm Dr. Jekyl, then Jonathan is Mr. Hyde. Just kidding, but if anybody really wants to understand what the other half is doing here in China, here's my say: I will admit, being so far away from home is very hard, but everyday I have to wake up and realize that my emotions towards China shape my experience. I wake up and think how beautiful life can be if we begin every adventure with a positive emotion...how beautiful life can become for each one of us.

But, that's on a good day.

So, my final note is to say this. I'm proud of Jonathan trying each day to accept his China experience. It takes courage to try some of my Chinese dishes or to walk with me as I look through every shop in China. Jonathan is an amazing guy and I'm glad that he's here to keep me laughing and reminding me how good life is back home. He loves all of you very much and cannot wait to be reunited with you. This is the reason why China has been hard. His heart remains with you always.

God Bless,

Haley

China after dark

Man this place can be lonely sometimes. Today can only be highlighted by an attempt at teaching 40 19 year old girls how to sing "My Heart Will Go On" (it was requested, heavily). I was asked, after playing the song five times (like I didn't hear enough in the 90's) and singing with the entire class once, to come back some other day and actually teach the song. Ummm.

The day died around 7:15 tonight. That's too early to go to bed, so I guess I will stay up and read a book or surf pointless web pages for a couple of hours. Tonight is a great night to call by the way, although everyone will read this after the fact.

It seems that when the whether cools off and it rains a little bit, the Chinese go inside about six o'clock and don't come out for the rest night. I went walking up and down the street outside of our university and it was deserted, well about as deserted as anything can be in a country of 1.4 billion people. Which brings up another interesting point which I have been meaning to write about.

I know I've heard two or three people say that Americans are loud. If you are travelling abroad you can always tell who the Americans are because they're ten times louder than everyone else and are callously indifferent to the polite silence of other countries. I now know that the word "abroad" in that opinion means "Europe" , because Americans have nothing on the Chinese.

Everything is loud over here. Everything. Whenever we went to a speech competition about a month ago, the speakers were loud enough to cause long term hearing damage. In fact, whenever someone uses audio equipment the volume is turned up so much the music can hardly be heard over the fuzz caused by speakers being pushed past their limits. The car horn is the favorite form of communication. The Chinese use it for its original purpose: to inform people of your presence. So if a driver has slightest inclination that you are not aware of his two ton gravel truck driving down the middle of the street, he will honk. And it's loud. People set off fireworks at the most random times in the most random places. A construction company is dynamiting the hills next to my school. There was that random air-raid siren from about three weeks back. I'm pretty sure the cell-phones don't even come with a vibrate setting, and when one starts ringing at the most inappropriate time it's not considered rude.

So walking the street tonight was nice, because for the first time in a while, my apartment wasn't the only place in the city that was quiet. I'm hoping (and it's pretty rude of me to hope) that the cold will keep people inside past the hours of six. But I'm guessing it won't. With the rain and the changing whether, it was a good day to stay inside and drink hot chocolate. If they had hot chocolate here.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

My first stint as an ESL teacher

A few years ago--long before the days of China came into being--I taught esl to an Egyptian Janitor at Lipscomb University. His name was Magdi Girgis, and he was a short Arabic man with a head full of graying hair and moustache to match. He had never really picked up much English, and I don't believe ever will. But every Thursday around seven he would show up with his Oxford English for Beginners book in the small little room underneath the newly renovated Ward Lecture Auditorium (complete with a Steinway!) and he and I would banter back and forth in English and Arabic.

We never accomplished much. I didn't really know what I was doing, and I'm pretty sure he didn't want to learn English. He would point at a picture and he would say "Kreall?" and I would pronounce "Cereal," with forty-two separate syllables and drag it out until saying the word lasted longer than five minutes (which, by the way, have you ever looked at the word cereal? I will forever have pity for people trying to learn english). And then I would explain just what "Cereal" was and then he would catch on and write it in Arabic and show it to me. I would nod in fascination, and the cycle would repeat itself. We never went much beyond that. And the lessons ended after one semester.

And a third of the time we didn't even meet. Either he wouldn't show up or I couldn't make it. I used to dread fighting the frigid wind and the cold that sunk into the bones only to find that Magdi had already gone home for the day. The first time it happened I showed up and asked every Janitor in the building where he was before deducing he wasn't coming. All of the other times I would sit in the cold, dead classroom for fifteen minutes and then leave. Once or twice I did it to him too, but I can imagine him walking in five minutes late, seeing I wasn't there, and walking right back out to enjoy his break in some place warm. I'm pretty sure no love was lost.

And one time I walked in at seven o'clock to find him and a friend drinking iced whiskey right in the lobby outside of Ward. It was one of the greatest sights I have ever seen. Two janitors boldly breaking the draconian laws of an establishment that didn't care enough, nor had any power, over the lower-income workers. I can just see the President--or whomever enforces those rules--in that situation turning the other way like it was the sheriff at the end of To Kill a Mockingbird. Those two men were the carnivalesque or the upside-down kingdom at work. Two guys from a different culture who didn't care about ridiculousness of it all. Two guys who were invincible from the very organization that gave them a living. They had power. They were also pretty far gone by the time I got there. Of course I sat down and had a couple of drinks with them (just kidding!), but I did sit and talk long enough to make walking over there worth it. And then I left smiling my head off.

I will never forget Magdi, as little influence that he had on my life. He always walked around in a cloud of cigarette smoke and hardly ever smiled. As if some Deity was punishing him for something that he did, and the punishment was America, away from family, friends, a language that made sense and into a disrespectful, cursed culture with weather reminiscent of Dante's ninth circle of hell. I always felt sorry for him. He probably didn't ask to be sixty years old and cleaning up after spoiled, egocentric American kids for a living, but he would probably be doing that until he died. You could tell he was always thinking about home. His eyes always had the glazed over, far-off look as if they were seeing something that would never be seen again; reminiscing over the past and disregarding the future. He was a tortured soul, and there is no telling just what he is doing now. Hey may still be a janitor at Lipscomb, or he may not. I hope he made it home though. I really do.

And we're back...

Has it really been five days? Internet problems coupled with a lack of all things interesting has made Jonathan's blog a dull web page. I've bet I've lost 95% of my readership. I bet there is a way to tell if you can read Chinese. Ahh but who cares.

I hate being so dang attractive. I hate it. I remember with hopeless nostalgia the days when women gratefully ignored me like I managed Waffle House (speaking of Waffle House, you know what was stuck in my head the other day? That song "I love you, Waffle House hashbrowns, I love you I do." You can't hear it unless you go to a Waffle House and select it on the jukebox. I need therapy). I just went out to get some dumplings at a restaurant about a quarter mile from my university, and I'll be danged if every one of the 2,000,000,000 girls in between here and there didn't stare at me or giggle or make some sort of comment. No, Jonathan is not being conceited. It gets old, real old. That's why I hate going out on my own. Usually if I go somewhere with Haley or one of my students the ogling is not that bad (we heard a rumor that everyone at the University across the street thinks Haley and I are a couple from Australia. Where they got that? I have no idea). I never thought I would know what it's like to be famous, but by-golly I do. It's not that great, I'd rather live in grand obscurity.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

p.s. Fall finally arrived yesterday. It's good to have cool weather, real good.

More stuff

Ok, Ok, Ok, Ok. I bought "Moon River" too. The Henry Mancini version. Time Life Music presents...

Little known fact. Pepto Bismol will turn your tongue black. I tried taking a picture but all attempts just seemed uncouth. You can imagine my surprise when I opened my mouth to brush my teeth and found that I look like a giraffe.

Something else. It's humid over here. When we first got here, it was hot. Then it cooled off for four weeks. And then it got hot again. I don't understand. It's October in the mountains. It's not supposed to be hot. I keep asking people "When does it cool off around here?" And I get blank stares. You know how awesome it would be to ask someone a question and have them know what I'm saying? I think I want that for Christmas.

Oh, I'm currently not picking up my phone. So if you're calling, please give me a time frame at which you will call and I will pick the phone up then. You see, picking up the phone guarantees that the next three to four hours of your life will be occupied by hanging out with someone. And generally "I'm sorry I just can't do that," doesn't translate well; because the Chinese don't take no for an answer. I've also been sick the last few days, so I really don't feel like running around the city. Therefore I don't pick up the phone. Have you ever unplugged the phone? It's awesome. It doesn't ring, ever.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."

American Music in China and Cave

A nasty rumor has been floating around the internet that I bought "Hollaback Girl" and "My Humps" off itunes yesterday. I have no comment. Actually I plead the fifth. I did hear "My Humps" blasting from a scooter that drove by me on the street. Which is probably why I bought that song; if I indeed did.

American music in China. The people over here only know sucky American songs ("California Hotel", "Country Roads" and "We Will Rock You" excluded). Were talking Celine Dion, Backstreet Boys, and Whitney Houston. They love these people, and they will ask you to sing their songs a capella in front of crowds of fifty or sixty people like you get paid to sing for a living. That gets old realll quick. I mean, do I look like Celine Dion? Would I go up to a girl and ask her to sing Johnny Cash, expect her to do a good job, and expect her to know all the words to all his songs? Absolutely not, if she could pull that off the next thing I would ask would be her hand in marriage. And of course they ask "Have you ever heard of (insert artist name)" And I got so tired of replying "Actually when Backstreet Boys came out I was in Middle School. All my friends and I thought they were a bunch of homo-corporate tools, we hated them. They can't sing, can't play an instruments, can't write music, and probably have the combined musical iq of Paris Hilton," that I've started to reply (to my extreme shame) "Yea I love the Backstreet Boys! JT? I love that guy!" (Actually I think he was in nsync, but is anybody going to pretend they know enough about this stuff to contradict me? Didn't think so). You remember when JT and Britney were a thing? That was a weird time. I mean that's one of those relationships that seemed like it never happened. Now JT has brought sexy back and Britney is so busy increasing everyone's self-esteem via the VMA's that she's lost custody of both her children to Kevin Federline? Someone has to do something. We can't claim to be decent people and let such atrocities go on in this world. Ladies and gentleman, I would give up the rest of my life to raise those kids, but I'm in China and my hands are tied. In fact, there about two years behind the pop culture times over here. Everyone thinks that Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston are still together. Seriously.

Man, I need to get out.

Where was I? Yea, so everyone over here likes sucky music. And hold on to your seats, no one has heard of the Beatles. Much less Led Zeppelin, Dylan, the Rolling Stones, Limp Bizkit, Janis, Hendrix, Simon and Garfunkel, AC/DC, the Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd, Neil Young, take it wherever you want it. However, like I said earlier, they do know one good song from John Denver, The Eagles, and Queen. Of course it's the three songs that get played so many times that you want to rip the radio out of the car whenever you hear them, but beggars can't be choosers. I'll quit.

Yesterday Haley and I travelled two hours to one of the largest cavern's in the eastern world. We kept hearing that this cave is "The Largest Cave in the World" from everyone that wasn't caucasian. Granted, it was a quite impressive sight, but I don't think it's the largest cave in the world. I kept wanting to say "Can you show me international academic journal that has published the scientific evidence proving this claim?" but instead I just said "The Largest Cave in the World? SWEET!" And I can understand why they would say this, here is a picture of the entrance



This--according to a website that is not Chinese--is the second largest cave entrance in the world. It's about 300 ft. high. The cave continues this way for about a two miles into the mountain. Pretty impressive, and if I had a vote, I would say it's the largest cave in the world. But I have yet to see a website that substantiates these claims, and I'm pretty sure the experts have known about this thing for a while.

There's not much to say about a cave. Have you ever tried? "It was real pretty." That's about it. Man, "My Humps" is one awful song. Yet here I am listening to it.

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens"

p.s. I love the comments and keep them coming. It is a little difficult for me to view them though, since blogger is blocked over here. I do have a way of viewing them, but it is a fourteen step process that I rarely take the time to plow through. I will reply to them, just give me time.

p.s.s. I don't think Limp Bizkit is one of the greatest bands ever. I can't sleep at night knowing that someone might take my sarcasm as reality. In fact, one of the happiest days of my life is when Cristina Agueliera poned Fred Durst. Can't you believe that relationship almost happened? Wait a second. Never mind.

Waigoren and Chinese Weddings

So the votes are in, there are only eight foreigners in all of Enshi: five Americans, one Japanese, one English and his Brazilian/Peruvian wife. I got to meet the English man and his wife for the first time yesterday. We, of course, met at the meeting of the foreigners hosted by the Chinese government. At the meeting we were herded into a room with forty Chinese. Three Chinese men gave Chinese speeches, and the rest of us ate fruit. After that, everyone had dinner. Thankfully, and I do mean thankfully, all the foreigners were allowed to eat together in a room with only two or three Chinese.

I say thankfully because public intoxication is encouraged in a formal dinner setting, to the point where if you don't get slammed they seem very disappointed. It spoils the fun I guess. I'm pretty sure it's what they live for. The Chinese have one favorite liquor: baijai (rice wine) which is around %50 alcohol. Foreigners can't stand the stuff but the Chinese love it. Since it was just the foreigners, nobody was getting drunk and nobody was being forced to drink baijai. Good times.

I also went to a Chinese wedding today. Don't get excited. A Chinese wedding is more or less a string of rituals rather than a ceremony. When arrived, the groom was carrying the bride on his back about a half mile from his house. Apparently he has to carry her a good distance for some reason, while his friends make the process as difficult and as embarrassing as possible. By the time he made it to the house, he was wearing nothing but his knickers. But he was still caring his wife. Never getting married in China, never.

And then we played cards for the next three hours while sitting in a room surrounded by all the close friends and family and it felt like something from my Big Fat Greek Wedding where we couldn't speak a word and we were out of place but we were the honored guest for two people we have never met and will never see again. And.

I just had a sudden onset of modernism. Sorry. All we did was play cards in this house full of Chinese people. And then we travelled to a fancy hotel to eat dinner. When we made it up the stairs to the second floor we discovered a huge room with three hundred Chinese all preparing to eat. There was a two minute introduction of the bride and groom and then we ate dinner. But this is the amazing part: when the Chinese finished eating they left. It was amazing! There was no flower throwing, garter throwing, dancing, cake cutting, cleaning, mingling, rice throwing, etc. Nobody was like "You know I'm such a good friend I should really stay for the rice-throwing, but I really just want to get the sam-hill out of here." Or "I don't know these people from Adam, should I really try to catch the garter?" We all know this, in America weddings how well you know the person directly correlates with how long you stay at the reception. Everyone gets cake and nobody cleans (unless you're family). In China, you eat and leave. Amazing. I love it.

Afterwards there was singing with close family and friends back at the house, but we decided to skip out on that.

Something funny (ok funny to me). Our university is pronounced Enshi Zhu Yuan. Zhu is pronounced "Jew" and Yuan is the for word college. However, yuan is also the word for money. So my college is pronounced Enshi Jew Money. Create your own punchline (I'm not anti-Semitic I swear, I've never even known a Jew. I love Jews. Dylan is a Jew, JC is a Jew [Jews also killed him, but we won't get into that], Phillip Roth is a Jew [I probably won't get a job because of this post one day], Robbie Robertson is half Jewish [I bet they're freezing my bank accounts right now], I just think it's funny).

More pictures tomorrow.

(Don't tell Mom.)

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."