December 21-Home At Last

December 21, 2011



Maren dropped me off at the Salt Lake International Airport at 8:30AM and helped me check my bags into Southwest Airlines. I gave her a final hug, thanked her for having me over, and went through security.

Security went smoothly (I successfully traveled from China to Colorado, four flights and eight security stations, without losing or breaking my luggage or getting patted down—score!) and I easily found my gate (of course, it was at the very end of the terminal). I’m becoming a pro at traveling.

My carry on, my fake Louis Vuitton, held up magnificently; nevertheless, upon boarding the plane, I lifted it to put in the overhead bin but I feared the wheels made it too wide to fit. However, a kindly man offered to help and made Louis behave and fit.

I daresay I did not look forward to this flight; I was sick and tired of traveling—literally. My sore throat had hardly improved (the aridity of the West did nothing to help) and jet lag had me exhausted. Even though the flight from Salt Lake to Denver was barely an hour long, it was an hour too long.

Once I landed in the Denver International Airport, I collected my bags at baggage claim, purchased a cart to haul all my crap (which probably weighed a collective 68-90kg/150-200lbs) to the shuttle station. I purchased lunch at no other place that Panda Express, because I’m cultured like that. I never had orange chicken in China (it may be an American invention, like fortune cookies) and it was sweet for Chinese food, but the new Cashew Chicken actually tasted quite authentic.

When my GreenRide shuttle arrived, the driver got out and, animated, asked if there was a Jillian here. Confused, I introduced myself.

“Ah!” he said, grinning; he handed me a festively-decorated plate of homemade cookies. “Merry Christmas!” Surprised, I accepted the plate and read the note; it was from my parents and sisters.

“Aw,” sighed a fellow female passenger. “Somebody must love you!”

I was touched; random, sweet (literally and otherwise) surprises like this never happen to me. I love my family. However, since I haven’t had sugary foods for four months (last week when Kelli made American brownies and I had a stomach ache for the rest of the night; before that, when she made pudding, I spent the night puking in my toilet), I couldn’t actually eat the cookies. It was a kind gesture, though. I offered a cookie to the other passengers, but they politely refused.

I sat by a woman and her husband, who are from Seattle, Washington. She is originally from Nebraska and he from India; they were an extremely nice couple. She and I chatted about traveling, life, and food. I told her how I’ve always wanted to work in an orphanage in India; she encouraged me, since India needs as much help as it can get. She and her husband have traveled in India multiple times to visit his family and she shared with me good advice on living there.

When we arrived at the shuttle stop in Fort Collins, my family was waiting there with a banner that said, “Welcome Home Jillian – We love you!” and balloons. Mom bombarded me with a bear hug; she was emotional and happy to have me home. I missed her too much to say. My sisters embraced me, followed by my father. It’s good to be home, though for a while it was weird to be around them—it feels like forever, but at the same time it doesn’t seem like that long ago that I was at that same shuttle station, preparing to leave for China.

That evening, we sat around Grandma’s living room, chatting about life and catching up. I talked about my students and experience, making them laugh at all the absurdities of my life and things my kids said. I showed them several of my souvenirs. It was fun to spend time with my family; I missed them all. Four months away from them has definitely increased my appreciation for family and home.

And there it is, the end of my China affair. Again, I thank all of you for your support and love! It means the world to me. This experience has been life-changing and unforgettable; I will forever be grateful to those who helped make this happen.

You're the best!

Jillian

December 20-The Lights at Temple Square/Culture Shock

December 20, 2011



A while ago, in planning for my woman date with Maren, I had asked her if we could visit Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah, to see the Christmas lights that are nationally famous. She shared my enthusiasm to see the lights, so tonight we boarded the TRAX right by her house in the Daybreak community of South Jordan, Utah.

This experience reminded me of the metro in Shanghai; Maren and I constantly chatted about China—there was always something that could be related to China or our experience there. In China, everyone stared at us, even the babies; it was rare to succeed in getting a Chinese baby to smile at us even if we made faces or did something silly—the baby would just stare at us like we were aliens. On the TRAX, there was a mother and baby on the other side of the car and I barely looked at the baby before he grinned at me. I made a face and he giggled. He was super cute; his smile warmed me.

I found myself constantly thinking and chatting about China; I apologized to Maren, but she assured me I wasn’t annoying her. She claimed that it was nice to have someone to talk to who knew what she was talking about when it came to China. In general, it was extremely pleasant to talk to Maren after three-ish weeks of separation; I missed that girl. Hanging out with her tonight reminded me of how well we get along and that she really is like my best friend. Because of all that we’ve gone through together, we can chat about anything and it isn’t awkward. It’s great!

It’s so strange seeing white people everywhere and understanding everything they say. When in China, I learned to zone out all the Chinese around me because I couldn’t understand it anyway; my ear was automatically trained to pick out English. I could pick out one person speaking English in a crowd of chattering Chinese. Therefore, sitting on the TRAX, exclusively surrounded by English, it was rather overwhelming.

As we walked around Temple Square and gazed at the beautiful Christmas lights, it was especially overwhelming since Temple Square was jam-packed with excited English-speakers. Once, we heard a couple speaking in British accents, and both of us immediately felt more comfortable since a British accent was more common in strangers in China than an American accent.

Aside from the language and the accents, another aspect that was overwhelming was all the blond hair and large “circle” eyes of Caucasians, especially in children. I became so accustomed to Chinese children that they look normal; Caucasian children look like foreigners to me. Their eyes are gigantic! I once asked Maren if a certain little boy’s eyes were only large to me because I’m accustomed to almond-shaped eyes, or if his eyes were large for a Caucasian. She thought the latter.

The lights were beautiful, as they always are. I haven’t had the chance to see the Lights at Temple Square for a couple of years, but their majesty is renowned. This year didn’t disappoint. My favorite spot, as it is any time of year, was the far side of the reflection pool, where the illuminated spires of the temple rise out of the darkness like beacons of all that is good and holy; candles floated in the dark water, creating a magical atmosphere; an white, illumined nativity rested in the center of the pool, its reflection melting into that of the temple, a sign that Christ is within the temple.

Before wandering into the Joseph Smith, Jr. Building to warm up, Maren and I took pictures with a giant Asian nativity (we love Asians!) and on the infamous bridal pedestal in front of the temple. Inside the JS building, we warmed up our hands while we gazed upon the gigantic, awe-inspiring, gorgeous white, gold, and silver Christmas tree in the lobby. This tree is easily the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, year after year.

Once we were satisfied with the lights, Maren searched on her phone’s GPS for the nearest Starbucks for hot cocoa, and it took us around an entire block before we discovered that there wasn’t a Starbucks anywhere to be found, though we did find the BlueLemon, a modern café.
I purchased a hazelnut hot cocoa and she ordered apple cider; both were absolutely delicious. As we boarded the TRAX to go home, we discussed how perfect our “date” was and how it was ideal for a real date, with boys: riding the train, visiting the Lights at Temple Square, drinking hot cocoa, walking around the clean, festively-decorated section of downtown in a light, romantic snow fall…. Next time, we plan on taking men with us.

Back at home, we changed into our lounge clothes and watched a few episodes of New Girl and Pushing Daisies, both of which are hilarious TV shows.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable day. I’m very grateful for the chance to spend time with her before returning home.

December 19-Last Day in China, First Day in USA

December 19, 2011

I awoke this morning at 5:45 because I was accompanying Kelli to the bus stop. Kelli’s mom works for an airline so she gets free standby tickets and therefore would be traveling solo to the United States. Kaylee, Kelli, and I climbed into a van the school provided for us and it drove us downtown to the bus stop. With the translation barrier, we weren’t sure if the driver knew Kaylee and I weren’t going on the bus with Kelli, so when we got out to say goodbye we stayed by the van and gave quick farewells—it was over too soon to make us weepy. I will miss that girl.

When Kaylee and I returned to the school, I went back to sleep for about an hour; I was awoken by Robin, who gave me a blueberry muffin for breakfast.

At 11, I went down for lunch, my last meal in China. It was disappointing, though I can’t remember what we had. At 11:35, I descended the stairs to the second floor, where the younger students eat. I waited for my students to finish their classes and come to lunch. I think most of them thought I was gone by then, so they were more than usually excited to see me. They crowded around me, hugging any part of my body that they could reach over the other students (ever been hugged by fifteen-plus kids at once? I have on multiple occasions).

Their Chinese teacher pulled them away from me and directed them to go get their food. I waited for them to go through the cafeteria line and then find their seats until I approached them. Again, they all shouted my name and a few ran up to me, while the others simply reached out to me from their tables. I went around and hugged all of them, one by one, and chatted with them. I love hanging out with my students outside of the classroom, when I don’t have to enforce rules and proper behavior. At times like these, they can just be their adorable selves and I can play with them as much as I want.

As a farewell gift, Lily gave me a used eraser and Kyle gave me a green marker, both of which I’m sure were simply the contents of their pockets and the only things they could offer me. However, I cherish those gifts because they were given with love.

I talked to the kids about their classes, their friends, and whether they liked cafeteria food. Most of them didn’t like the food. As I chatted with the kids at one table, another set would usher me over to their table. I took pictures and gave and received more hugs and kisses.

Tiana was especially sad to see me go, and kept on coming up for more hugs; she has become very cuddly over the last couple of weeks, as compared to when she never touched me. This is what happened to Flynn, who also gave me multiple hugs that day.

As I prepared to leave, Jack, my dear little Jack, approached me and leapt into my arms; he wrapped his arms around my neck and held on tight. “I don’t want you to go home,” he said, in perfect English. “I don’t want you to go to Meiguo, Teacher.”

Up to that moment, I hadn’t cried during a farewell (not because I wasn’t sad, I just…didn’t), but now, embracing that small, sweet, endearing little boy who had won my heart, I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“I know, Jack,” I said softly. “I don’t want to go, either.” I pulled away to look at his face; his eyes mirrored his mouth: they betrayed utter sadness. “You could come with me ton Meiguo!”

Jack furiously shook his head. “No, I don’t want to go to Meiguo; I want Zhongguo. I want you to be in Zhongguo.”

Once again, I pulled him close. I set him down on the ground and looked him in the eye. “Jack, when you’re older, when you’re a big boy, I will come back to Zhongguo and see you; we will have fun together. Okay?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically, pleased with this proposal. “Okay, Teacher Jillian.”

“I love you, Jack.”

“I love you, too.”

I took his small hand, and together we descended the stairs and exited the building. Out in the sunshine, I hugged him one last time and snapped one last picture of us, and said my final goodbyes.

“Goodbye, Teacher Jillian,” Jack said, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Goodbye, Jack,” I replied. He ran off to join his fellow students outside their dorm building; I waved at him as I walked away.

It’s fair to say that I broke down only seconds later.

Whenever someone asks me my favorite part of my China experience, or what made my experience, my response is immediate: my students. They were and are what made it all worthwhile. When I leave China, I will leave 36 pieces of my heart here. I pray for them daily, and hope that one day I will see them again.

I returned to my dorm room just in time to throw all my last bits of luggage together and head down to the Administration Building, where a charter bus waited to take the Americans to the Weihai airport. Earlier that morning, the High School students came to our floor to take our suitcases down the five flights of stairs. I don’t think they anticipated the “weightiness” of their offer: each of the 18 Americans had two fifty-pound suitcases. When the students arrived, they all let out common Chinese exclamations: “Wah!” or “Aiya!” It was actually quite humorous, but we Americans were all very grateful for their help.

All of our suitcases were lined up and ready to be packed on the bus. The Koreans came to say goodbye, leaving most of the teachers in tears. Scott, Adam, and another Chinese man stored our suitcases underneath the bus and everyone climbed on. As we pulled away, all of us shouted, “Xi jian, DaGuangHua!”

The ride to the airport was quite uneventful; I stayed awake to see my last glimpses of Weihai, but then slept the rest of the hour drive.

Things went quickly at the airport, and, much to my regret, I was unable to say a proper goodbye to Kelly, the Chinese coordinator. However, she ushered us along because she didn’t want us to make her cry. She’s such a sweet, crazy lady; I will miss her. Good thing I have the school address, her email address, and her Skype information. I want to keep in touch.

Security and everything else went smoothly, much to my surprise. If all of my adventures in the airports on the way to China are a sign of my type of luck, I should have broken/ripped something or set off an alarm by now.

The flight from Weihai to Seoul was fine; I had an aisle seat. In the Incheon/Seoul airport, I saw several Caucasians and Indians, which totally weirded me out because I’m so accustomed to seeing strictly Asians—besides my American colleagues, but for some reason it wasn’t weird to see them but it was weird to see any other White person, or anyone who wasn’t Asian, for that matter. White children were especially strange to see, all racism aside, because they had blond hair and gigantic eyes! I’m sure it sounds strange, but after being surrounded exclusively by Asian children, my mentality altered: Asian children were the norm; they didn’t appear to me to look Asian, they looked just how kids were supposed to look: small, cute, and perfect. It’s hard to explain, but after seeing White kids I had to remind myself that not all children are Asian; white kids looked different, just how Asians used to look ‘different’ to me when I lived in the States.

That’s an interesting concept, to say the least.

At the airport, once again everything went smoothly. I had a sore throat so I was dying for water, but I found a drinking fountain.

This was where we said goodbye to Robin, Scott, and Kailey, as they were flying into LA instead of Las Vegas. It was especially hard to say goodbye to the Baileys—they are such an entertaining, cute, awesome couple; they were definitely some of my favorite people in my group.

My seat on the plane from Seoul to Las Vegas (a ten-plus hour flight) was an aisle seat, much to my joy. Last time I was stranded between two Koreans in the middle seat of the middle aisle on a Boeing 747; I had to sleep awkwardly and wake up the little old woman to my right every time I needed the lavatory.

This time, I was free to leave whenever the seatbelt sign was off without disturbing anyone; on my row was Kristin and Krisan, which was another blessing because it gave us a final chance to talk.

Nevertheless, despite all these fortunes, I still had a killer sore throat, and since the security officers right outside the plane (not outside security, oddly enough) confiscated my two water bottles, I became extremely dehydrated and uncomfortable. I asked the nice Korean flight attendants for water a couple of times, but each time they brought me a small glass of water (hardly a full gulp worth) and I felt bad for bothering them so much, so I survived on throat lozenges.

I was so uncomfortable, due to a dry, painful throat and the awkward positions one must sleep in on a plane, I slept for maybe ten minutes throughout the entire flight. Instead, I watched several movies, including Captain America, The Help, and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, reminisced on my life in China and considered the unknown in my future (which is in practically every aspect of it).

Once, thankfully when the cab lights were dimmed, I even had a silent cry. I missed my students and my life in China already.

Despite all of my personal discomfort during the flight, I really do like Korean Air: they feed you well (even on 45 minute flights, like from Weihai to Seoul), the service is quick and the attendants are very kind, and you get free movies and music on your own TV. Plus, the attendants have the most stylish uniforms, with white satin blouses, aquamarine pencil skirts, aquamarine ascots, and aquamarine bows in their shining black hair. I would totally wear their uniforms on a regular basis.

By the time we reached Las Vegas, I was more than ready to get the heck off that plane. I hated that we were in Las Vegas with one more flight in a few hours: I just wanted to be done with flying. However, it was a much needed relief to be on the ground and moving around. One of the first things I did was fill up at the water fountain—that was heaven.

I said goodbye to Kaylee and Marie here, as they were continuing to Calgary, Canada. I will miss those two. I hope I can see them again.

I thought seeing a few White people in Korea was weird—imagine my shock to see white people everywhere. Loads and loads of Caucasians. Everywhere I looked. I’m sure I stared at them like the Chinese used to stare at me; again, I was shocked when they weren’t staring back. No one seemed to notice me—I don’t mean that in a narcissist way, I’m simply accustomed to being a minority and having everyone stare at me like I’m some sort of alien. In Las Vegas, I was just another haggard-looking traveler.

I used the restroom, and after I was done wiping I searched for a waste basket, only to remember that, in America, toilet paper can be flushed down the toilet. Doing so felt wrong, though, like I was being rebellious. That is definitely something I will have to get re-used to.

I cleaned myself up in the restroom until I looked at least half-alive. Walking past all the shops and restaurants, I inhaled the mixture of smells: pizza, French fries, glazed donuts, coffee, cinnamon rolls, beer…. It was all too much; I almost literally choked on it. The air was so thick it was like inhaling the smog in LA or Shanghai; also, it all smelled so sweet that it repulsed me—after living four months without sugar, the sugary sweetness of American sweets is way too much for me to take. It actually didn’t smell very good. It was good, but it was too good. It will probably take me a while to accustom to the decadence of American food.

Since I hadn’t slept since 8AM the day before, I was practically sleep-walking. As the chairs in the terminal all had permanent armrests (how stupid is that?) I placed my pillow on the floor beside the chairs and slept right there on the ground. The ground was carpeted with a thin carpet that didn’t add any cushion, but after sleeping on a board for four months, it was just enough to put me into a deep slumber.

My friends, who sat above me chatting, awoke me when it was time to board the plane to Salt Lake City. I was finally a bit rested and could brave yet another flight; also, I had the anticipation of seeing my best friend, Maren Mathewson, who would pick me up at the airport. Maren is the girl who went home from China a few weeks ago due to a toothache. She and I were to hang out for a day before I flew to Colorado on the 21st. (This entry is marked December 19 because, with the time difference, I left at 4PM on the 19th of December in China and arrived in the US at 1PM on the 19th of December.)

I sat by the window; it was wonderful to be able to look out and see the mountains below us as we approached Utah. I desperately missed real mountains.

Maren was waiting for me at the bottom of the escalators at baggage claim. The whole scene was reminiscent of the first time I ever saw her, when she picked me up for ILP training back in August. This time, I recognized her face and embraced her. She was definitely a sight for sore eyes; I didn’t really realize how much I missed her until I saw her face again.

I hugged and said goodbye to all my other ILP friends; I wondered if I would see any of them again. It was especially hard to say goodbye to Krisan, Kristin, and Kate.

Maren helped me get my suitcases into her car, a Kia Soul, and then we headed to her house in South Jordan. We chatted incessantly, catching up on each other’s lives. I missed her.

Because I had depleted my concealer supply, I asked, rather ashamedly, if we could stop by Wal-Mart so I could buy some. So yes, my first stop after returning to the United States was Wal-Mart. I’m not proud, though it is nice to have makeup again.

Arriving at Maren’s house, I greeted her family. Her mom asked me what I wanted to eat and I said, “Salad.” I’ve been craving a good, big, leafy salad since I left for China; all I had in China was skinny, bitter herbs. Maren served me a big plate of spinach, shredded provolone cheese (another delicacy, after not having cheese while in China), and Thousand Island dressing. Oh my goodness, it was delicious.

After I ate, Maren helped me settle into the living room downstairs; I would be sleeping on the couch, which was so soft it seemed to consume my body when I lied down. I wasn’t sure how I would sleep on it. I collapsed on the couch. I was unconscious almost immediately.

December 18-Christmas Party

December 18, 2011

My last weekend in China was rather uneventful; I am broke, so I couldn’t go out and explore the city or anything, so I stayed at the school. I packed for home, cleaned my room and the supply room, hung out with Kelli, Kaylee and Krisan, wrote in my journal, etc.

Church on Sunday was the longest it’s been in China: I sat through Sacrament meeting, Relief Society, and a Visiting Teaching message. All of the meetings were great, meaningful, and inspiring.

One woman gave a talk in Sacrament Meeting about finding “Christ in Christmas” and related a story about one of her favorite Christmas memories. When she was of Seminary age, her class decided to do a Secret Santa gift for a single mother: the students were to bring some sort of food or toy to seminary every day for a month which they would donate to the cause.

In the beginning, this sister was resentful at first and gave only the food or toys she herself didn’t want to eat, but near the end of the month she began to realize the significance of their gifts to a woman and her kids who had nothing, and so this sister donated more precious items. On Christmas Eve, her seminary class “doorbell ditched” the family’s house after leaving the food and toys on the doorstep. The class hid in the bushes in order to watch the reaction of the single mother and her children.

When the mother came to the door and discovered the countless cans, bags, and bottles of food and all the toys, she began to cry and audibly thank the Lord for this miracle, for she could not afford Christmas on her own this year.

The young sister who told the story confessed that night taught her the true meaning of Christmas, how it is more important to give than to get; she learned that God sometimes, if not most times, uses us to answer the prayers of His other children.

I found this story especially inspiring.

That night, after dinner, my group had our Christmas party. A few weeks ago, we chose names for a “Secret Santa,” and Sunday night we distributed our gifts. Krisan, Kylee, and Ivy had prepared a snack bar with oranges, cookies, cream puffs with chocolate drizzle, meat and crackers, and green apple/grape soda punch. My Secret Santa was Brittany, who gave me a cute hand-made ballerina ornament and totally China socks; my secret person was my head teacher, Marie, to whom I gave colorful nail polish and a typical Chinese face mask.

It was a fun party and a nice last “huzzah!” for our group.

Afterward, Kelli and I made homemade fries with potatoes, oil, and garlic salt. They were super tasty and actually turned out pretty well. Cooking in China is always an adventure.



I comprised a Christmas List and sent it to my family.



Pumpkin Pie

Lasagna

Home-made pizza

Strawberry, almond, poppy seed spinach salad

Mom’s noodle salad

Special K

Life Cereal

Molly’s granola

Homemade burritos

Shakes

Grandma’s Upside Down Sundae

Graham crackers in milk

My own tub of fudge frosting

Chocolate orange

Big, green, yummy salad

Lemon turkey salad

Indian cuisine

Red Lindt Truffles

Chocolate milk

Thick hot cocoa

Homemade chocolate chip cookies, right out of the oven, with milk

Fitty

Lemon yogurt with Oreos

Peach yogurt

French Onion Sun Chips

Molly’s homemade bread

Homemade strawberry jam

Lots of chocolate



They found the extensiveness of this list quite amusing.

December 16-Last Day of Teaching

December 16, 2011

Today was my last day of teaching—it has definitely been a day full of emotional turmoil. We have the kids coloring utensils and told them to have at it; there was a movie in the background, just in case they got bored. Emily, Kate and I took pictures with our kids. We had cookies, peanuts, chocolate wafer cookies, and coffee—all of which were Kelly’s idea. Most of the kids disliked the coffee; I questioned Kelly’s reasoning in buying coffee for six year olds. The last thing they need is more energy!

When we told them it was our last day of teaching (“Tomorrow, ming tian, no more ILP: no more Teacher Emily, no more Teacher Kate, no more Teacher Jillian”), there was a chorus of groans and moans from the kids. However, throughout the day, I only saw Kyle cry. His dark eyes filled with tears and he looked completely heartbroken; my heart broke just looking at him. Even though his were the only tears I saw from my students, the others were still obviously saddened/heartbroken.

For example, after we said that, Lily bolted to my side and jumped into my arms, squeezing me tight. “I love you,” she said softly yet firmly.

“I love you, too,” I said, returning her embrace.

A few of the kids told me the girl in their drawings was me, which was flattering. Several of the kids gave me their drawings. It was fun to just hang out with them and talk to them.

After our first rotation, I walked my kids down to their next class. Eva latched herself to me and said, “Teacher, you no Meiguo.”

I patted her head and said, “Sorry, Eva, I have to go back to Meiguo.”

She pouted for a moment and then said, “You, me go to Meiguo.”

“You want to go to Meiguo with me?”

“Yes!”

Naomi and Carly grabbed my hands and began chanting with Eva all the way to their classroom: “You, me, Meiguo! You, me, Meiguo!”

We passed Kelly and I told her, “I’m taking them with me to America.”

“Alright,” she replied, smiling, “you can do that.”

If only.

I played with Naomi, Carly, and Eva in their classroom as we waited for their Chinese teacher. They showed me their backpacks, the Christmas toys we’d given them, and their homework. Naomi and I recently started an on-going game where we “eat” different parts of each other’s bodies, like noses, eyes, ears, mouth, etc. and then we cover up the missing part like we no longer have it. Since it’s cold, I’ve been wearing scarves lately, and Naomi’s favorite thing to do is “eat” my head and then cover my head with my scarf, as if I’m suddenly headless. I then pretend to be a headless tickle monster and tickle her until she’s giggling. We played this game several times today.

I needed to get back upstairs for my next rotation of kids, so I stood up and said, “I need to go. Goodbye!”

Immediately, the three girls swarmed me again and held me down. “No, no, Teacher!”

I gave them all hugs, but I was going to be late, so I shuffled toward the door as they clung to my legs. Out in the hallway, my second rotation students were on their way to ILP when they saw me and joined Eva, Naomi, and Carly in clobbering me with hugs and kisses. I nearly toppled to the ground a few times. Lily covered my face in kisses again, much to the amusement of everyone around.

It took a while to peel off all the kids attached to me, but I eventually gave my three Meiguo buddies a final hug and began to ascend the stairs to start my second teaching rotation. However, when I reached the stairs, my second rotation students once again latched onto me and I dragged them up the stairs with me: there were kids hugging my arms, my waist from the front and back, and kids holding my hands. The Chinese teachers we passed were bemused and amused.

It snowed last night and all throughout today, so during the last part of my second rotation, Kate, Cami, and I took the kids outside to play in the snow. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find my camera at this time so I could only take a short video of them on my iPod, which is better than nothing, but I wanted cute pictures of us in the snow. We had a snow ball fight on the soccer/football field: Jack, Mark, and Andy attacked me from all sides; I tackled Jack and threatened to stick his head in the snow upside down, much to his boyish glee. A few of the girls stayed by me so I could protect them and warm up their hands, but most everyone joined in the snowball fight. I loved watching Lily and little Sarah running around with snowballs, their adorable giggles ringing in the air. Kim and Paris made mini mounds of snow; when I approached them, they looked up at me and grinned—have I ever told you how precious are their smiles? They are so heartwarming they could melt snow.

What an incredible experience this was to play in the freshly fallen snow with my students—it’s easily one of my best memories with them. All semester I have wanted the chance just to play with my students, outside of the classroom where there are no strictly-enforced rules, where I can be more of a babysitter than a teacher (when it comes to either, I’m a much better babysitter), where they can have fun and be kids. I’m grateful that this wish came true. My first snowball fight this winter was with seven-year-olds in China! Wo ai shengming.

Before they set off for lunch, my students all embraced me and wished me “Merry Christmas, Teacher!” It was a very precious moment. I hugged all of them before they left: Lily, Flynn, Jack, Mark, Stephen, and Kim kissed me goodbye. Although it was a bittersweet moment and it killed me to say goodbye, I didn’t cry. I believe I simply felt far too blessed to cry for sadness.

I plan on eating lunch with them on Monday before I head off to the airport, so hopefully I can see them again. Perhaps I will cry then.

In spite of it being my last teaching day, it was still a perfect day—the perfect ending to an amazing semester.



For dinner, everyone went to Hot Pots—the first restaurant to which Kelly ever took us, right after we arrived in China. It was very tasty and always a great cultural experience; it was also exciting to have one last group night out before heading home. I love the times when we get together and do something exciting. When I am a head teacher, I want to plan lots of group activities, because we did so few here.

December 15-Movie Day

For class today, we watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas. We wanted to watch a movie as a sort of end-of-the-semester celebration, but sometimes it’s harder to watch a movie, because it’s difficult to keep the kids’ attention and time seems to move slower. However, it was a good movie to keep the kids entertained throughout most of it—they loved all the colors and lights and interesting characters and the quirkiness.

During the second rotation, Tamera motioned for me to sit by her and little Sarah promptly planted herself on my lap, much to my elation. She cuddled in my lap, played with my fingers, played piano on my arm, and giggled when I kissed her head—she has the most adorable giggle in the world. Every time I stood up to settle the other kids or get peanuts, she would wait for me to return and then hop back onto my lap. She honored me by offering me bits and pieces of the dried fruit in her pocket, which is a delicacy for the kids; she would only hand it out to her special friends.

She’s very quiet, but when she speaks (English or Chinese), her high-pitched five-year-old little girl voice melts my heart. Everyone loves Sarah, even all the other kids; they take care of her and speak softly to her, even if they just hit or kicked someone else. It’s very sweet.

Kim, a few chairs down, kept looking at me and reaching out for my hand; she seemed sad, and I knew why: she was one of my students who really took the news of me leaving hard. As soon as I told her, she said, “Oh….” And immediately became melancholy. Today, when I squeezed her hand, her eyes lit up like I’d just given her the world.

Once, I stood up to get something and Lily bounded over to me, a pleading look in her dark eyes. Sarah was content for the moment with Kylie’s company, so I sat in Lily’s seat and placed her in my lap. She was ecstatic; she proved her elation by kissing my cheek. We’ve accidentally kissed on the lips twice now, but today she had the audacity to initiate an intentional lip-smacker. She turned my head, quickly kissed my lips, and then burst into a fit of giggles.

“Teacher,” she said, excited, “you, me, three!” She did the Chinese sign for kissing. I laughed, and pressed my finger to hers. “Muah!” she said, as if our fingers were kissing. She thought this was hilarious.

Yesterday, Lily told me that she is Hanguo, or Korean. She also has four siblings and her Korean name is Lia Leo, which I think is fitting for her because it’s a pretty name. I actually have a few Korean students and a couple Japanese students; not all of them are Chinese. I can’t believe I just discovered this.

Anyway…. Kelly later told the students that we’re leaving next week, and Lily bolted into my arms, nearly in tears. I almost started crying as I hugged her close. She pulled away and literally covered my face in kisses: she kissed my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose, my ear, my chin, my lips. Jack joined in and kissed my cheek multiple times; even Tiana and Stephen kissed my cheeks.

“No Meiguo,” Lily said, a distraught look on her sweet face.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling her close again.

“I don’t want you go home,” Jack said, pouting. “I don’t want you be Meiguo ren; you be Zhongguo ren.”

Over these past four months, I’ve become akin to a hero to these beautiful children; I’ve become a beloved mentor—this past week has proved that I was successful in earning their respect instead of having them fear me, for which I am grateful. They adore me, and I them. They’re like my children, for they are eternally in my heart. My experience in China has been unbelievably incredible overall, but the greatest thing, the aspect of it that has affected me the most and will remain with me the longest is my relationship with my students—is my students, my kids, my munchkins. They were and are the focal point of my experience here in China. Sure, there were times where I resented teaching and I had bad teaching days and sometimes the kids drove me mad and my vacations were welcome outlets, but if I had the choice of visiting the Great Wall and all the wonders of China or spending time with 36 crazy, adorable, loving Asian children, I’d indefinitely pick the latter.

If I get the chance to visit China again, I would rather revisit my students than revisit the Great Wall (the Great Wall was my favorite thing that I’ve seen in China, locational-ly/historically speaking).

I cannot comprehend never seeing these students again. I pray that I will someday, sooner rather than later—someday, nonetheless. I want to know how their lives pan out, what they accomplish, who they become.

They’re my best friends, my angels. I love them and already miss them. Writing this has been incredibly difficult, and I’ve shed more than one tear in the process. I anticipate tomorrow for the chance to see my kids again, though I am not prepared to say goodbye, as it will be my last day of teaching.

I pray for their health, happiness, and that they will have bright futures. I am eternally grateful to have had the opportunity to be a part of their lives and to be able to serve them by teaching them English, a skill that will undoubtedly open doors for them in the future, and by being a positive, supportive influence in their lives. The Chinese may not have the Gospel of Christ, but they are truly beloved and beautiful children of Heavenly Father.

December 9-First Real Snow

Today, I taught Robin’s class so that she and Kelli could have a weekend trip to Beijing; she covered my class the day I returned from Jinan because I was late, so we are even now. The teaching schedule was a little mixed up today, though: the afternoon classes were in the morning and my morning class is now in the afternoon; not to mention today is Parents’ Day, where my students’ parents come to our classes and watch us teach their children, and Robin’s second rotation students didn’t show up until a half hour to the ending time. China is unpredictable that way; you just have to go with the flow and accept things as they come.

I dreaded teaching Robin’s kids, because the last time I taught them they were hellions and it was the longest teaching day ever, but I actually had a lot of fun with her first rotation students. They’re a year above my students so they’re older and know a little bit more English, but they’re still cute. We made snowflakes and they loved it.

Robin’s second rotation students are in their third year with ILP—they act as if they know all the ropes and no longer need to listen to the teachers. I don’t and didn’t enjoy teaching them—if I ever go into elementary teaching, I will definitely work with the younger students.

Parents’ Day with my usual students went well; the children behaved and spoke a lot of English. Most introduced me to their parents and were super excited to have them there. Neither of Ariel’s parents showed, much to her disappointment. She moped throughout class; I felt bad for her, but I couldn’t do anything.

We only taught two classes at thirty minutes each, with a ten minute break in the middle, so we only taught our Homerooms. I had completed progress reports for all of my homeroom students and gave the reports to the parents. I had to fill out progress reports at the end of my first month here, and it’s interesting to see how much my students have progressed and how their personalities have blossomed over the last few months. Most kids impress me with how well they’ve done, while a few are disappointments. For example, Cinda hardly knows any English because she simply doesn’t try or seem to care. Tamera, on the other hand, can clearly communicate with me most of her needs and wants and thoughts, when she came to us with zero English skills.

After class, Phillip’s mother came up to me and tried to communicate with me, but I couldn’t understand her broken English. Kelly translated that Phillip’s mother wanted my contact information so she could keep in contact and possibly stay with me if she ever goes to the States. I was honored that she would want this from me, so I’m going to give Kelly my contact information so that she can give it to all the parents of my students. I think it would be so much fun to be pen pals with my students/their parents (if we can get past the language barrier).



It snowed heavily today, and it stuck, unlike the few times it’s snowed in China and it immediately melted. The humidity makes it especially cold here, though after living in Indiana it feels normal to me; however, the Western Westerners (Utahns) feel like they’re going to die of frostbite.

Regardless, the Baileys, Cami, Kristin and I were all craving Muslim food, so we decided to brave the cold and snow for Muslim Friday. I wore leggings under my pants, a tank top, two long-sleeved shirts, two coats, boots and socks, two pairs of gloves and a hat. It may feel normal to me, but it’s still freezing.

Our usual Muslim family moved across the street to a new, cleaner establishment. They have new menus, chairs and tables, and no holes in their walls; the female owner is thrilled with it. I got my usual tomato and egg on mein tao (noodles), which is always delicious. I love going out with these people; we have a lot of fun getting to know each other and spending quality time together.

Even though it was freezing, we still bought ice cream from a local convenience store—it’s a tradition now. The Chinese thought we were crazy (“Nimen shi yada Meiguo ren…” “You are crazy Americans”), but I’m sure they all think that anyway.

December 8-English Competition

In relation to teaching, my class with John, Ariel, Nancy, Belle, and Phillip came in and Nancy promptly informed me that “Phillip is Lady Gaga!”

I laughed, surprised, and asked Phillip to confirm this, which he did. I then asked Nancy if she was Justin Bieber, and she vehemently shook her head. “No, Teacher, you are Justin Bieber!” Of course, she was referring to my performance in the karaoke competition the week before, where I dressed up as the pop culture sensation and danced in front of an entire auditorium of adoring Chinese children and adults.

Much to my amusement, John began to sing, “Baby, baby, baby, oh!”

Oh my lands, I just adore these kids.

In my class with Kylie, Kyle, Paris, etc., Kylie was being super silly and so I began to tickle her and she giggled profusely. Kyle, with a smug look on his cute Asian face, opened his arms as an invitation to me to tickle him. I thought this was a tad peculiar, but it made more sense when I discovered that he isn’t ticklish. He and I have more in common than I thought!

I proceeded to tickle all of the other kids, and we discussed whether they were ticklish. This is the type of lesson I like best, where the kids learn English through spontaneous methods. By the end of class, they had learned their most advanced concept yet: whether someone was ticklish and where. Gongxi, gongxi, kids; that will take you far in life.

I tried to tell a few of my students that next week is my last week here, but most just stared at me blankly and then continued to work on their craft. However, after classes were over, I called Jack over and gave him a big hug and told him I needed to tell him something. He’s an extremely intelligent kid with a broad English vocabulary and an incurable crush on me, and probably my favorite student. I presumed he would be able to understand what I had to say. Everyone else had left, except for Flynn, who was collecting his things and finishing up his craft project.

“Jack,” I said, wrapping my arm around him, “you know how today is December 8th?” He nodded. “Well, on December 16, there will be no more ILP. No more English class.” Jack seemed to understand, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. I continued, “That means there will be no more Teacher Jillian. I’m going home, back to America.”

Here, Jack pulled away to look at me, a startled yet puzzled look on his adorable face. “No more Teacher Jillian?”

Flynn was watching me, just as startled.

“No, Jack. No more Teacher Jillian; no more Zhongguo for Jillian. I’m going back to Meiguo next week.”

“Oh,” Jack whimpered, fully comprehending the meaning of my words. Since I was sitting down, he sat on my lap, wrapped his arms around my chest, and rested his head on my shoulder. Flynn stepped closer, silent, though his eyes betrayed his distress. Jack sat up and planted a long, sincere kiss on my cheek, his little face stricken with grief. Flynn, who only recently started hugging me (or showing any signs of emotional attachment or desire for physical contact), leaned forward my kissed my other cheek.

I embraced them both, on the verge of tears, and whispered, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much.” After I sent them on their way, I broke down. These children have been the focus of my life for four months, and the idea of leaving them and most likely never seeing them again kills me. Seriously; am I never going to talk to them again? They’re like my own children; I love them dearly—they’re a part of my heart. I feel as if I will be incomplete without them.

I don’t even want to think about it right now. They were right at training: don’t take for granted the time you have with your kids; don’t resent teaching them, or you’ll regret it in the end. I regret all those days I woke up and dreaded going to class. It became like a job, when I should have enjoyed it and appreciated the sweet spirits the Lord blessed me to have in my life.

On a lighter topic, Kelly asked me a couple days ago if I would be a judge for a high school English competition at DaGuangHua. I accepted, as it seemed like it could be an interesting cultural experience. Therefore, today I met with Cami, Adam, Abi; Kelly took us to the competition where we sat at a large meeting table. The high school students came in and sat at desks behind us. We were given sheets of questions to ask them and judging pads; we were to judge them on “Content,” “Language,” “Appearance,” “Feeling” and “Question.” One by one, the students came up and gave a prepared two-minute speech on a topic of their choice, in English.

Many spoke on following your dreams (one quoted Martin Luther King, Jr., where he mentioned the Lord’s hand in things), which I found intriguing because I’ve learned from older generations that, in Chinese culture, one forgoes their personal dreams to pursue a better future and financial situation for their elders.

A few spoke on learning to smile and the significance of smiling and having a positive attitude; one spoke on preserving the environment; another expressed his appreciation for ABBA and Mamma Mia! and how they have influenced him.

One boy spoke on magic and learning magic tricks, while he performed basic magic tricks: for the first trick, he retrieved a paper from his pocket, and then pulled a match out of his shoe; the match automatically lit. As soon as the match touched the paper, the paper ignited into flames and was consumed in an instant, during which the boy retrieved a rose from his back pocket and replaced the paper with it. It was meant to look as if the rose had appeared out of the smoke created by the burnt paper.

His second magic trick involved a hand-held fan and a handful of shredded paper. He fanned the paper, causing the small pieces of paper to fly out of his hand and all over the room; however, he continued to do this for at several seconds, and it appeared as if he had an inexhaustible supply of paper shreds. I was stumped and impressed by this trick.

After everyone had given their speeches, we split up into four groups, with one ILP teacher in each group, to give the students an opportunity to speak with and practice their English skills on a native English speaker. It was a lot of fun to chat with them and learn more about them. One of my girls wishes to be a fashion designer and travel to Paris and New York to gain inspiration and attend fashion shows. I was impressed and encouraged her to follow her dreams. One girl plays the violin, and I assured her that she had to be much better than me—a fact I do not dispute, and to which she was too embarrassed to respond.

My only boy said to me, “Can I ask you a question? You can answer if you want to, but if you don’t want to, just…don’t say anything.” I nodded. “Are you married?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No, I’m not married.”

He sighed as if relieved, with a sheepish look on his face, which was cute. Granted, he was probably a senior and hardly younger than me, but all of the students treat me as if I am a much older and wiser adult, an elder to be respected and emulated, and, honestly, it causes me to feel older. Therefore, when I say his sheepish grin was cute, I mean it in a platonic, little-boy-cute way.

After we chatted for a bit, Kelly announced that we would play charades. Our teams came up with a charade under five categories: Family, Animals, Stuff, Verbs, and Adjectives (don’t ask me how you do charades for an adjective—I’m sure it was just a bad translation from Chinese into English…maybe…).

The boy in my group (they all had Chinese names, which I never remember) came up with Farmer Mother, where he holds a baby in one arm and uses a hoe with his other hand. While he did it as a charade, he looked like a broken wound-up toy or an old person, or as a Chinese teacher guessed, a “disabled person,” which, obviously, could be very offensive but the Chinese have no sense of political correctness (which is probably a reason why I love them so much).

The game and the whole experience was very enjoyable and I’m glad I accepted Kelly’s offer to judge the competition. Kelly encouraged the students to take advantage of having native English speakers at their school, because they are very fortunate to have us, and to speak to us whenever they see us. I hope the students take their advice, because I really liked those kids and wouldn’t mind chatting with them again.

December 7-Silly Kids

Aurora told me that she likes Flynn; Andy is in love with Kim, and so he wrote his ‘love note’ to Kim, not his parents or grandparents, which I thought was adorable. However, no one really likes Andy, Cinda, or Ariel. I can understand why they don’t like Andy or Cinda, who are both bullies, but I still can’t comprehend why no one likes Ariel. She’s a big sweetheart to me and, without being provoked, isn’t mean to anyone else; they, however, enjoy teasing her until she cries, poor thing.

Kyle came into class mirroring Paris, for some reason that eluded me (besides the fact that they enjoy kissing each other, so this is probably just Kyle’s way of flirting). She was a little annoyed, but seemed to mostly find it amusing. Everyone else thought it was hysterical, and I found it adorable. Those two kill me with their lover’s spats.

Tamera, Aurora, and Jack repeatedly tell me they love me, which is just what I need to hear to make any day better. When I sat Tamera beside me, Jack got all huffy and disappointed because he wanted to sit by me, which I found flattering. As they were coloring their cards, he showed me his: on it, he had written, “I love you Teacher Jillian.” My heart melted; I’m such a sucker for that kid.

I do not look forward to saying goodbye to my students, or even telling them that I’m leaving. The mere thought of it brings me to tears. I especially dread telling Jack—the news will surely break his little heart.

December 4-Beach Sunday

December 4:

As the sun was shining and there was only a slight autumn crisp in the air, Kelli and I decided to spend our Sunday afternoon at the beach. It’s sad to think that I’ve lived by a beach for four months and I’ve only been there about four times. The main reason for this visit was so that I could gather some sand for my collection back home.

We arrived at the beach as the sun began to set and the world was filled with deep golden light. A few fishermen sat in their rustic boats, silhouetted by the setting sun behind them. Children ran about the tide pools, shrieking and giggling as the cold water brushed their toes or they found a seashell or starfish. The random but majestic castle that looms over everything only added to the splendor of the picture.

Kelli and I, of course, had to take pictures.

I love the Chinese culture and history and architecture--and of course the people! I'm going to miss all of it. I have grown so much from this experience, in so many ways. I know more about myself and the world. I would have to say that my students have impacted me the most. Spending time with them, disciplining, loving, and teaching them, has taught me a lot about myself and how much I adore and want children of my own some day. Maybe it's strange but I have like a maternal connection to my students. I love them and every minute I spend with them; I have loved getting to know them and discovering their unique personalities and facts about them. Even after all the yummy food and the incredible places I've been and things I've seen (like the Great Wall), my students are what have made my experience and what I will miss the most. It breaks my heart to think that I may never see them again...

November 24-Thanksgiving in China

11/24:

Happy Thanksgiving! Of course, China doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, but we Americans wanted to make it a special day. For class today, we watched a movie on the big projector screen. Well, tried to, at least. The entire morning rotation was spent trying to download Windows Media Player, only to discover that it was incompatible with whatever program the Chinese computer used; we tried streaming a video online, but it wouldn’t load; we tried putting a DVD into the computer, but it wouldn’t recognize the disc. In the end, we had the kids pull their desks to the sides of the room and scoot their chairs close together so that they could watch The Little Mermaid on Kate’s laptop.

Our afternoon rotation was only slightly better: we got Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs to load from the internet, but the sound was terrible. Then, we tried The Lion King but the torrent only allowed us to watch the first five minutes unless we paid for the rest.

I ran up to my room to get more DVDs, because Emily’s DVD of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs wasn’t loading, and while I was there, Krisan offered to let me use her speakers. She’s so sweet. Scott was eventually able to figure out how to connect Kate’s laptop to the projector and Krisan’s speakers, and we were finally able to watch The Little Mermaid. The kids seemed to enjoy the movie, though they grew bored after a while. I can relate with how a foreign movie you can’t understand can be uninteresting. We gave them Chinese Teddy Grahams as incentive to be quiet and listen to the movie.

I sat beside Aurora, and she immediately linked her arm with mine and rested her head on my shoulder. I held her hand; she is so affectionate, and my adoration of her deepened.

In between rotations, little Sarah was in the classroom, as for some reason she wasn’t required to go to exercises like the other students. I was eating an orange for my breakfast when she hurried to me and held out her small, coffee-colored hand. Of course, I had to give her a section of my orange; when I placed it on her palm, she promptly gobbled it up and grinned.

I picked her up and spun her around; she burst out in a giggle fit, hugging me tight. I sat down and placed her in my lap; she nestled into me, resting her head underneath my chin. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. Sarah is the perfect cuddle size; it’s ridiculous how adorable that child is. If I could only take one thing home with me, it’d be her.



At lunch, which was bitter herbs, strange-tasting dumplings and tofu, Kelli told me some heartbreaking news: Maren is going home next Wednesday. Maren has been experiencing toothaches, which have resulted in migraines and puking, for the last week or so. Apparently, she had a couple cavities in her back molar that had been filled, but the filling is falling out or something like that, and it’s pinching a nerve in her gums. If she doesn’t get it fixed pronto, it could lead to very serious problems, the after effects of which could be permanent. She needs a root canal. She researched a dentist in Beijing, but the root canal treatment alone, travel expenses excluded, would be between 5500-7000 yuan ($880-1120).

We only have 3-4 weeks left in China, but Maren can’t wait that long. So, apparently, today she had Casey change her ticket from December 19 to next Wednesday (because her departure is for medical reasons, ILP covers the expenses).

It breaks my heart knowing that she’s leaving so soon, and that it may be a long time before I see her again. I know I will see her again someday, I’m just not sure when. I love that girl dearly—she’s like my other half; we’re two peas in a pod. Our styles and tastes in men may vary from each other’s opinions, but our personalities are extremely similar. It was fate that brought us together; fate was what caused ILP to reassign her from Bengbu to Weihai, fate that reassigned me from Zhongshan to Weihai. If we hadn’t been reassigned, I don’t believe we ever would have met. For all this, I am truly grateful.

I’m gonna miss that chick.



I Skyped my mom and she helped me cope a little bit. I adore that woman—one of the main reasons I am excited to go home is to see her and be able to talk to her on a regular basis. I miss my mother.

So this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for my family, especially for their support in my future plans of traveling and owning a hostel; I am grateful for wonderful friends, near and far—especially Kelli and Maren; I am grateful for the internet; I am grateful for Facebook; I am grateful for email; Skype; good food; warm blankets; sweatpants; jackets; socks; clean water; the opportunity that I have to teach beautiful Chinese children in China; for the gospel; for my scriptures; for prayer; for my testimony; for my life and life in general. I may not have everything, but I am extremely blessed.

Tonight, Scott and Kailey are preparing us a Thanksgiving feast. I am saddened by the idea of not spending this holiday with my family; I will miss them and our traditions, and the traditional feast—especially pumpkin pie. However, Scott purchased rotisserie chicken, potatoes, and other yummy stuff; Scott is an incredible cook, so this should be good. I’m excited. I’ll write about that later, once I’ve partaken of the food.



Alright, it’s later and I have more to report. All of us gathered in the common room, Kelly and her husband, Ganggang, included. Six at a time, we filed into the kitchen to load up on the food. There was mashed potatoes, chicken, rolls, salad and Ranch dressing, creamy potato soup, and vegetables. My favorites were the salad and the creamy potato soup. The salad was a real salad; big, crispy and leafy, and not bitter, unlike all the other salads I’ve had in China. All of the food was amazing, and we ate in silence because we were all focused on our food and intent on enjoying it. The chicken wasn’t the greatest however, in my opinion, because it tasted too much of China.

Once we were all together again, we went in a circle and said what we were grateful for that day. I said I was grateful for Skype, the internet, a family that supports my international dreams, and Maren. Kelli, Maren, and I choked up. I adore that girl; I will dearly miss her. I suppose I should mention that Maren received another email today and her flight has been changed to 4PM tomorrow. I feel as if a rug has been pulled from underneath me; I’m dumbfounded. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been mentally and emotionally preparing myself to say goodbye to my friends on the 19th of December, but now I suddenly have to say goodbye three weeks sooner—tomorrow, as a matter of fact. Holy eff; I don’t like this, not one bit.

This was Ganggang’s very first Thanksgiving, and he thanked us, in Chinese, for inviting him and for the wonderful food; Kelly translated. I felt honored to spend his first Thanksgiving with him. We began the meal with a prayer, and I wondered if that was allowed, though Kelly and Ganggang didn’t object.

After the meal, I was full to bursting and my ‘food baby’ was extremely prominent. I’m not sure why or how, but ever since I was born I’ve had a prominent baby belly, only now I can control when to show it. If I blow out, I look legitimately pregnant. I showed this to Kelly, and she was enthralled. We took a prego picture together, since she really is pregnant. The only thing is, she’s not very big yet—my ‘baby bump’ is much bigger than hers. I’m more pregnant than a pregnant woman!

I miss my family traditions, where we gather around the kitchen table and gorge ourselves on turkey, cranberry sauce, turkey gravy and Dad’s garlic mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie. We would nap while the tryptophan ran through our systems, and then watch a movie as a family. I love Thanksgiving. Nevertheless, this Thanksgiving was a very good day; I am grateful I was able to spend it with some of my best friends.

November 21-Just another day in Weihai

In class today, we were choosing what kind of animal we wanted to be. It was in the same class that had the kissing lesson last week, and so the topic of kissing was brought up, naturally. In the mix of things, Kylie said that “Dennis kissed a monkey!” She realized what she had said, and giggled. It was cute.
Later on, I asked her if she wanted to kiss Dennis. She declined vehemently, and then she told me, understanding full well what she was saying, that she wanted to kiss Flynn, who is in a different class. I taught Flynn’s class next, and I told him this. His eyes grew wide and he blushed (it’s especially cute when the Chinese’s dark cheeks turn pink), but said nothing. The rest of the class thought this was a riot, though, and Jack teased him incessantly.
Because of his teasing, I gently grabbed Jack’s head and gave him a good kiss on the cheek. He freaked out like it was the grossest thing ever, but barely seconds later he ran up to me, pulled on my arms until I leaned down and kissed his other cheek. What a stinker.
Cami hasn’t been coming to class very often lately; when she does, she stays for only a few minutes. Some days, she doesn’t come at all. I suppose it has made me kind of lazy in my teaching: when we do arts and crafts, there is a lot of silence as they draw or create pizzas with Play Doh. Most days, I don’t follow the lesson, I only converse with my students, like with our kissing discussions and calling each other animal names, or discussing which foods we like and don’t like. I’m not sure how Cami would feel about it, but I figure that as long as they’re speaking English, I’m on the right track. On one hand, the discipline may be lacking because they can get riled up or jump out of their seats to go tackle Kyle to the ground until he kisses Paris (been there, done that), when they know full well that the rule is to “stay in [their] seats.” Plus, they don’t get a lot of tokens because we’re not with the lesson plan.
On the other hand, it encourages spontaneous speech; it requires them to learn words they wouldn’t normally learn, like “kissing” and “monkeys like to eat bananas”; it causes them to ponder new phrases and form complicated sentences to communicate with me. Therefore, it’s probably not too bad of a teaching tactic.
After classes were over, I met with the other morning teachers (Kailey and Scott Bailey, Emily Morrison, Kate Smith, and Cami Carr) and we walked to the Muslim restaurant for Muslim Monday. I absolutely love this tradition: it allows us to get to know each other better, spend time with people we don’t usually hang out with, eat good food, and discuss life. It’s a great bonding experience.
I got a new dish, one I haven’t tried before. It’s beef with spices on rice; it tasted just like Mexican food and was amazing. It was super spicy—Mexican or Indian spicy, which is unusual for Chinese food—but it was a good, nostalgic spicy. However, my stomach wasn’t too happy with it and still isn’t. I think the spice was too much for it.
I needed toilet paper so we walked to the small Jia Jia Yue right down the street; then we bought ice cream bars from a nice lady in a hole-in-the-wall convenience store. I suppose stating that it was a hole-in-the-wall is unnecessary, since it’s China and just about every store is a hole-in-the-wall.
Wo ai Zhongguo.
Dinner was the tomato and egg dish we all love so much. Seriously, it’s so much better than any other dish at the cafeteria. The school has served it every night for dinner for about a week now; for the last few days, I’ve gone back for seconds and so now the cook knows to load me up with the delicious schlop. It was just what I needed after a long day. It makes my tummy feel so happy.