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| Swearing in - Official Peace Corps Volunteer! Picture with PC China Country Director Mikel Herrington |
How is it I’ve been at site for two weeks? It’s almost like
a “boy who cried wolf” scenario, having been uprooted four times in the past
three months – unbelievable. It’s like I’m reluctant to get too comfortable in
my new digs, in case I’m relocated again. But the fact is, though it doesn’t
feel like it yet, I’m home.
Another week in the hotel with the 80-strong China 20’s
group went just as expected. A heap of information with a hefty dose of chaos
and a sprinkle of bitter-sweet. Chinese classes wrapped up the week before (I
scored Intermediate-Low on the spoken exam, plenty room for improvement), so
the remaining sessions would build up to our first steps to take at site. In
other words, hours of discussing how to settle in, make contact with our staff
and colleagues, stay healthy, etc. It won’t come as a surprise that we were all
grateful to experience this as a group, and reflexively decompress as a group
by way of hotel room beer consumption, too-frequent trips to Starbucks across
the street, and impromptu (but awesome) volleyball matches and hookah sessions.
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| Training Site "Starting Varsity" Language Class |
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| Hitting up another Cat Cafe. |
But, as is Peace Corps custom, just as I began to get used
to the ongoing company of my fellow volunteers, I was once again ripped away
from familiarity. I found out that Wednesday that I would be departing for site
Friday afternoon – among the earliest departures of the group. The wound went a
little deeper upon learning a handful of good friends would be departing
Saturday morning instead, leaving them another night of camaraderie and
shenanigans in the wake of my absence.
Friday morning arrived too soon. We began with the swearing
in, which, though it was more informal than expected, proved to be a very
pivotal, emotional experience. As the culmination of a grueling summer of
training, swearing my allegiance to the Peace Corps mission and cementing my
title as an official Peace Corps Volunteer was an amazing experience – for as
long as I live, I’ll never forget how I felt in that moment, facing the blunt
but exciting reality of the significance of my decision to be here, and the
resulting impact I may be able to have in the lives of so many people.
After the swearing in came the official ceremony, featuring
inspiring and encouraging words from host country nationals, school representatives,
Peace Corps staff, and finally, an outstanding song & dance by a few PCVs
and a speech in Chinese from two of our Mandarin-fluent volunteers. In
traditional Chinese custom, a ridiculously lavish meal would follow – there was
even cake, and it almost tasted like the real thing.
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| Swearing-in with my Austin homie Steph. |
After the meal, I had only about an hour to pack and say
goodbye to everyone. First in line were two of my Chinese language teachers who
surprise-crashed the party. They were a little shocked, but very touched, to see
me well up when I gave them hugs and said goodbye. Kevin, my training sitemate
and language classmate, hotel roommate, and future Guizhou Province-mate would
be leaving on the same train that afternoon. So, the two of us left the lunch
in the first wave and retired to our hotel room, packing in silence aside from
the occasional sniffle neither of us could keep back. One by one, our friends
began to convene in our room. There wasn’t much anyone could say… just a lot of
fidgeting, lip-biting, and slow, silent head-shaking while we enjoyed each
others’ company for the last time in a long time. The tears were unyielding,
but I was smiling in spite of them. As upset as I was to part ways with
everyone, I was overwhelmed with joy for how meaningful these friendships had
become to me in such a short amount of time.
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| Kevin "Klynch" Lynch |
When the time came, I waited in the lobby for the shortest
half-hour of my life. Each year, every school sends a representative to collect
the volunteers and help them move, and my Waiban assistant, Roy, had come to
fetch me from Liupanshui – I’m trying not to resent him for it. Pulling away
from the hotel (with my two besties chasing the car – this is why I love these
people), I swallowed hard and forced myself to face forward. I realized I
wasn’t leaving anything behind; I was going toward something. And not just any
old something… I was headed for my assignment. The reason I came here in the
first place. Pre-Service Training is so long that it’s easy to get nearsighted
and comfortable. Sure, we spend our days preparing for service, but up until
the moment I actually left for site, it didn’t seem real. Then, it got really
real, really fast.
I was afforded somewhat of a slow release in that Kevin and
I shared a cabin on the train ride to Guizhou. The two of us, along with our
school supervisors, spent the initial hours of the evening on our 16-hour train
ride chatting and practicing Chinese. We picked up some new words and tricks,
ate dinner together, and finally went to bed after nightfall. After some restless
sleep, I awoke to watch the sun rise over Liupanshui’s outer mountains. My
sense of purpose restored, my sadness and reluctance transformed into
excitement and eagerness to begin teaching.
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| My Chengdu host mom seeing me off. |
Once you get the badge of being an official volunteer, Peace
Corps wastes no time in getting the ball rolling; in my case, I was left to my
own devices at site after about 20 hours. That said, anyone with a mouth told
me that things would change drastically at site. They weren’t kidding. In the 12
days I’ve been at site, I have taught a total of four classes. That’s 8 hours
total. Bit of an adjustment from the 8am-5pm, 6 days a week schedule I was on
at Pre-Service Training in Chengdu. And adjust I have, more or less. It’s felt
like too much downtime at times, but I can’t say I’ve hated sleeping in most
days and finally getting a chance to catch my breath after PST.
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| Wetlands Park near my apartment on the Liupanshui Normal University campus. |
Because I opened my big mouth about being some kind of super
athlete (at least, that’s what they heard) to my foreign affairs staff during
my prior site visit, the health and fitness department caught wind and now they
all want a piece. I played basketball with them twice during the first week –
the first time wasn’t so pretty; the second? Better. Having not played a proper
game in years, I wasn’t so optimistic. The other Chinese players (students and
teachers alike) play almost every day, and they’re outstanding. I’m sure it
came as a shock to them that the 6’3 American could barely hold his own. It’s a
work in progress.
What I did find from playing – aside from a heat stroke and
lack of oxygen up here at 6,000 feet – was friendship. Until then, I was unsure
how to approach friendship with host country nationals (HCNs), but through a
vehicle like sports, they can just fall into place. That’s how I met Peng Jie,
a fellow newcomer to Liupanshui from Northern China who teaches with the health
and fitness department. He was eager to get to know me, and I him, so we
exchanged numbers and have had a few opportunities to socialize. His English
level is a notch above my Chinese level, which isn’t saying much… needless to
say, we learn a lot from each other.
Peng Jie’s superior, the most tenured of the health faculty
from what I understand, is 45 years old, fit, and as any proper PE teacher
should be – full of shit. He’s got a good balance of bullying and compassion.
On my first outing with the P.E. crew, we all went to KTV (karaoke) and he
reminded me roughly ten times how appreciated I was and how much he looked
forward to our friendship. He has a good relationship with his students; the
group of them frequent the restaurants outside my apartment and I get regular
invites to join in. Naturally, I’m force-fed food and beer until the only
logical out is to make up an excuse to leave. It’s a good problem to have.
Classes began nearly two weeks ago – I kicked off with two
junior-level Advanced Listening classes right off the bat. The students were
dazzled by my presence… the only real challenge was getting them to quit taking
pictures of me during class and to stop gushing about my height. My freshmen
started a week later, and were surprisingly much more responsive. To my
understanding, many of them have moved to Liupanshui from very small towns or
even villages, and most of them have
never had the opportunity to meet a Westerner, let alone have one as a teacher.
Thus, they hung on to every word I said and cooperated extremely well. Their
English level, on the other hand, was much lower than I anticipated, but I’ll
look forward to seeing their leaps and bounds throughout the semester and year.
Monday, September 8 was Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival (or Moon
Day), which occurs on the night of the full moon between September and October
each year. It represents oneness and togetherness, especially with family. On
Mid-Autumn Festival and the days surrounding it, Chinese people gorge on Moon
Cake, which is a small, round pastry filled with some kind of filling depending
on the region. Liupanshui specializes in sweet and salty dried pork – somewhat
of a different experience from the sweet cakes people enjoy elsewhere.
For my first moon day, my LPS host family took me out to
lunch, then on a drive through the countryside. On perilous roads we drove
through old villages with people relaxing outside their homes or arranging la
jiao peppers on the concrete to dry. We encountered modest, but gorgeous
waterfalls sending water careening through Guizhou’s lush hills. For a time, we
followed a large river and saw gigantic, mysterious caves begging to be
explored. After a few hours of driving, we returned to town to enjoy dinner
with my host mom’s parents.
Dinner was a delight as always – it doesn’t get much better
than Chinese home cooking. Throughout the meal, my host grandpa kept refilling
my baijiu glass and cheersing me almost immediately every time, endlessly
praising myself and the American people. Many older Chinese folks feel very
appreciative and compassionate toward Americans to this day because of our aid
to China during World War II. It’s a topic I’m not well-versed on, but one I
hear about on a regular basis. That, along with the prices of every make and
model of car sold in America. Time to do my homework.
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| Host family at Eagle Mountain |
At the close of Moon Day, my host dad, Wolf, asked me, for a
second time, if I could find to time to visit his art class. I hadn’t said no
before, but I was hoping for some time to settle in. Given the degree of
downtime I’ve had so far (and considering how I’ve spent most of it), I
couldn’t, in good conscience, put it off any longer. We agreed on a lecture for
Wednesday: “Survey of Art Studies in American Universities”. Sounds legit,
right?
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| Liupanshui Backcountry |
In reality, due in part to my laziness but also to my
inability to find my classmates’ student work readily accessible and lack of
prep time, it turned into a slideshow of Colton’s crappy artwork spread across
his 4 years at MSU. So, I stepped into the classroom, holding my breath and
reassuring myself that, at the very least, it would be quick and dirty and only
for my host dad’s one painting class… no sweat. But as the student head count
neared 50 with standing room only, and more than 5 teachers filed in, I wasn’t
feeling as sure of myself. My host dad then informed me that word had gotten
out – as it always does in China – about my little talk, and several teachers
had rerouted their lesson plans for the afternoon. So no pressure.
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| Languo Hot Pot - LPS Specialty |
The art students filed in and ooh’d and aah’d upon catching
a glimpse of me, taking out their phones and snapping pictures. By now, I’ve
just learned to throw up a piece sign and grin and bear it; once they realize
I’ve caught on, they’re not so brave the second time around. Plus, it’s
priceless seeing their reactions when they review the photo and see me looking
them dead in the face. My host dad gave me a brief introduction and after, I
stood and said “Nimen hao” (hello everyone) to a resounding “WOWWWW” from the
entire class. “Dui bu qi, wo shuo hanyu bu tai hao,” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak
Chinese very well) I followed, to which they answered “No no no!” or “It’s good
it’s good!!” I then gave my usual shpeal about my hometown, family, and process
of getting here, all in Chinese, and carried on into the lecture. My first
slide was rough, as I wasn’t sure how to dive in. “These are my first
portraits,” I said, not sure how to proceed. So I flipped to the next slide.
“Wait! Explain them please – I’ll translate,” said my host
dad. And with that, we were off… analyzing my cripplingly novice freshman year
artwork to my standout junior, competition-winning pieces (to some VERY
unexpected applause from the students), and rounding off with my lethargic
senior thesis and professional work. The lecture spanned two hours… though I’d
only brought enough coffee for 30 minutes. Following the lecture, I shook hands
with several teachers and, naturally, posed with students for at least 20
pictures, before accompanying Wolf and his class up to the painting and drawing
studio on the sixth floor of an adjacent building.
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| Art lecture. |
I walked around while his students worked on a detailed
still life of a circuit board – I secretly hated my host dad for a moment while
I watched them… those projects were the bane of my existence. But then it
occurred to me how here, as opposite from Montana State as I could possibly be,
the students were doing the same damn work. Even more – their work was indistinguishable
from that of mine or my classmates’ back in the day. Perspective strikes again.
I had only been in the class for a few minutes when I saw a shiny black piano
tucked away in the corner. “Is this also a music classroom?” I asked Wolf, my
words dripping with ulterior motives while I motioned to the piano.
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| The following performance. |
“Yes,” he said. “We share with the music class and have to
rearrange each day. Would you like to play something?” He shouldn’t have asked.
We pulled out the piano and I sat down, cracked my knuckles, and rattled off my
ultimate crowd pleaser, Nuvole Bianche by
Ludovico Einaudi while 5 or more phones recorded and/or snapped more pictures.
If you haven’t heard the song, look it up – and have a tissue on hand. I
finished playing six minutes later to more applause. “My heart!” shouted Mr. Wolf, shaking his head slowly. I brought out Canon in D and decided after to
call it quits. My host dad informed on my way out that we were going to dinner
to celebrate Chinese Teachers’ Day, and that I should be ready in an hour. “Hao
de!”
Celebrate we did. An hour later, we were zooming through
Liupanshui’s streets to a restaurant in the city, picking up some of the other
art faculty along the way. Once we arrived and made our way to the best seats
in the house, I was introduced to my dining mates: the art department head, the
school of art dean, and the head of another school department. At this point, I
very much regretted changing into a T-shirt after class. Once the food was
ordered, we began to drink.
“Do you have class tomorrow?” my host dad asked.
“Nope!” Wrong
answer.
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| Teachers' Day Dinner |
“Then today, we drink!” The three hours in the restaurant
passed in a blink, going by just as easy as the two bottles of baijiu went down
between five people. But so much was accomplished… I was inducted as an
unofficial faculty member into the art department (“You’re in the wrong
classroom! Why are you teaching English?!” they kept saying), I made
fishing/camping/beer drinking plans for this fall, the dean of the school of
art is taking me to his home village in Eastern Guizhou, and the pack of us are
driving to Bijie to visit Kevin in the near future. That’s China… Baijiu =
Business.
Following the massacre, we walked, in as straight of lines
as possible, to Wolf’s business partner’s office, where he prepared authentic
Chinese tea for all of us. It’s quite a process – one which I’m excited to
learn on a day when I’m not struggling to stay upright. So, we carried on with
tea and there were talks of KTV, though thankfully, they never panned out.
After getting a cab home and crashing immediately, I awoke the next day paying
dearly for my sins, but with fond memories of my first Teachers’ Day in China.
A food sick chased after me that day as well, so I laid low
and kept close to the bathroom. These things are inevitable; we have only the
ability to control symptoms while our bodies adjust. The baijiu, obviously,
didn’t help matters. Peng Jie, intent on discovering why I couldn’t play
basketball or do anything that day, insisted that if I didn’t see improvement
by the next day, he was taking me to the hospital. I tried to explain that I
had Western doctors in Chengdu (who would send my sorry ass home if they found
out I’d gone behind them to receive Chinese medical care), but he retaliated
with something along the lines of “I am your brother and I will take care of
you! You don’t need doctors in Chengdu, you will go to the hospital and I will
take you.” Such a stand-up dude. Now that he’s paid for at least 5 of my meals
and brought me enough baijiu to bring down a bull elephant, I invited him to an
American breakfast this weekend – the only thing I can cook with confidence. In
China, though… we’ll see how that shapes up. French toast and breakfast
potatoes might not taste quite the same given my limited ingredients and
supplies.
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| Wolf doing tea right. |
I am settled, and I am comfortable. There were tears, and
they were important, but Liupanshui is home. Seeing dishes pile up and gazing
across my living room at clumps of dirt on my floor is an unwelcome reality
check, but there’s also something inherently badass about taking the bus for $0.15
to the vegetable market to haggle with local vendors to get my two gigantic
eggplant from $1.00 down to $0.80. Also, I can’t leave out the drinking instant
coffee and eating peanut butter/banana toast in my underwear while conducting
my daily morning facebook creep session. Or pooping with the bathroom door
open. Yeah, I missed living alone.
Having that long-lost alone time is great, but the people
here are what keep my head above water. My sitemate, Jennifer, is a China 19
Volunteer, a phenomenal cook, and an amazing person who I genuinely look
forward to spending time with. My host family will continue to be my rock in
LPS, and I see our friendship continuing far beyond my service in China. My
waiban staff and counterpart, Chelsea, are all endlessly helpful, my students
are hard-working and kind, and with an organic friendship in rapid development,
I’m getting my first taste of how it feels to assimilate and really feel a part
of such a different culture. It will no doubt be an ongoing trial throughout my
service, but it’s off to a great start.
For any readers looking me to send me something sweet (instant coffee is totally cool, but sweet words of affection are also welcome) - here's my mailing address. Be sure to print off and include the Chinese characters to ensure a more reliable, speedy delivery!
Colton Davies / LiuHaoTeng
Foreign Affairs Office
Liupanshui Normal University
No.19 Minghu Road
Liupanshui, Guizhou Province, China 553004
中国贵州省六盘水市明湖路19号（六盘水师范学院外事处）
Foreign Affairs Office
Liupanshui Normal University
No.19 Minghu Road
Liupanshui, Guizhou Province, China 553004
中国贵州省六盘水市明湖路19号（六盘水师范学院外事处）
