In my Heart’s Eye

After a wonderful summer in the States with some of my favorite American people, foods and hangouts, I found it a bit hard to leave.  Once back on campus though, since I was already familiar with the environment, customs and people here at Laiyang Agricultural College (LYAC), I thought that settling back in to my China routine would be easy.  During my first few weeks back in Qingdao, however, my mind kept flashing back to some of my favorite moments during the summer and I found that I was not able to pick up from where I left off before the summer.  As much as I love my home here and as truly excited as I was to see my Chinese friends again, I found that my heart was really back in San Francisco.  Though slightly aware that I was not all here in Qingdao, I was feeling too blah to figure some way to ship the rest of me over.  With the help of some of my favorite people here at LYAC, I saw that my heart was not really as far away as I thought.

Old Eyes

One of the people I most looked forward to reconnecting with was Margaret, my good friend and language partner.  A junior English major who humorously speaks her mind and loves reading classical Chinese literature, Margaret is unlike any Chinese girl I know.  In fact, Margaret is unlike anyone I know.  When the campus boiler broke down a couple weeks ago, all the students went without any drinking water for five days.  Thirsty, she came knocking on my door for a cup of water.  Since I was not home, she knocked on the door of my neighbor, also an English teacher.  Seeing that he was not home, she moved to the next floor to knock on the door of another teacher.  Disappointed yet again, she continued knocking on the doors of the rest of the English teachers.  When she received no response from any of the doors, she proceeded to knock on the Japanese teacher’s door, all the while straining to recall any Japanese words she knew.  When she found that even he was not home, Margaret became desperate.  She decided to go to a restaurant that she knew would serve tea upon seating.  While she skimmed the menu, she gulped down the tea as quickly as she possible could.  Once she emptied the tea pot, she quickly glanced around the room and seeing that no one was watching her, grabbed her bag and furtively ran out of the restaurant!

While many Chinese girls are preoccupied with losing weight and straightening their hair to appear more womanly, Margaret has decided that she would much rather look like a girl than bother so much with appearances.  While most spend all their time studying for a qualifying graduate school exam (to get into a good graduate school to get a good job to attract a good husband to—hey, who imported that dream?), Margaret has declared that she finds such an existence boring and meaningless.  Her dream is to teach English to children in the undeveloped areas in western China where the conditions are harsh and the resources limited.  In these areas, water is so limited that people wash their faces only after they have already used the water to cool their parched throats.  After reading a recent article that described in detail these conditions as well as the needs of the people there, Margaret wept and determined that she would do all she could to make her dream come true. 

When I first saw Margaret this semester, I noticed that instead of the chipped round black glasses she used to wear, she wore a pair with a silver frame.  Finding this serious pair completely unlike her bold, spontaneous personality, I asked her what happened to her old pair.

“It broke so I found this old pair from junior high school,” she answered matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean, it broke?”

“I dunno,” she responded, emphasizing the second syllable of dunno as she always does.  “I took off my glasses and reached to put them on the counter without looking and I guess I missed.”

I had to laugh.  Now that sounded like the old Margaret that I know.

New Eyes

With hair that occasionally flops in his eyes and a gentle smile, Victor, a fourth-year Foreign Trade major, can pass for a model.  When I first saw Victor again, I was struck by how cool he looked in his new trendy black, rectangular frames.  When I commented on Victor’s cool frames to his roommate Forrest, Forrest chuckled.  “He got those because he loves Supergirl.”  Literally translated, Supergirl is China’s American Idol with female competitors and Victor’s favorite singer wears the same pair of unisex frames.  Forrest added that Victor announced to his dormmates that one day, when there is one, he would be on Superboy. 

While I have always known that Victor possessed an inner coolness, I was shocked that he would so publicly display it.  While I have always known of his interest in music—the first time I met him, he was playing guitar—I never would have guessed that he would dare to perform on national TV.  You see, Victor is painfully shy around unfamiliar people and speaks so softly that no one can ever hear him, whether in person or on the phone.  One of his classmates told me of one of her first encounters with him during their freshman year.  While boarding a bus and carrying a ton of packages, she recognized Victor and waited for him to greet her and possibly offer her a seat.  Since he had seen and recognized her but had not even acknowledged her, she thought he was rude and standoffish.  When they both got off the bus and walked separately toward the campus—she struggling with her packages and he avoiding her eye—she decided that she hated him and would never forgive him for his rudeness.  Eventually she got to know Victor and learned that the reason he did not even look at her was not that he was too cool for her, but that he was so shy that he did not know what to say to her. 

So this semester, when I saw him sporting his new frames and later, standing on a stage singing in a group that he recently joined, I was completely amazed by the new Victor. 

Different Eyes

       Just this week I had lunch with a former student, a second-year graduate Veterinary Science student named Ralph who used to spend up to ten hours a night playing Counterstrike, an online video game.  As we walked into a Korean restaurant, I thought back to one of our first meals together.

       “How are you, Ralph?”  As we walked through the dining hall selecting our dishes, I threw out a general question, not expecting much more than the small talk responses we had previously studied in class.

       “Oh, I’ve been really busy and I’m so tired,” Ralph said wearily.

       Like I had taught my students to do to show interest and further the conversation, I asked a follow-up question, “Really?  What have you been busy doing?”        
        “Nothing.” 

        “Huh?” Shocked at his use of the word that typically kills conversation—which I had mentioned in class—I could not come up with a better response.

“I’ve been busy doing nothing.  Every day I go to the lab and do experiments all day.  It’s so boring and meaningless!  This is what I’ll be doing for the rest of my life.  What’s the point?”

The frustration in his voice indicated that he had spent a lot of time prior to this conversation thinking about the answer to that question and was thirsty for a whole lot more than small talk.  Since then, every encounter with Ralph has been filled with intentional questions and sincere exploration of answers.

Our last meal together was no different.  After about two sentences of small talk, Ralph declared that he had specific topics that he wanted to discuss concerning the purpose of his life and how that affects the way he spends his time.  As we worked on our dolsot bibimbap (vegetables, meat and rice cooked in a clay pot), Ralph remarked, “It’s so different.”

“What’s so different?”

“This meal and the meal that I had with my old friend last night.  Last night we talked about the things that we always talk about.  You know, money, jobs, girls.  But today, the topics are so different.”

“Well, Ralph, that’s because you’re different now.”

“Yeah.  And I found that those topics are not as interesting to me anymore.  Actually, a lot of things are not that interesting to me anymore.  I haven’t played video games in so long that I’ve lost my skill.”

That fact alone confirmed that I was looking at a totally different Ralph.

       People like Margaret, Victor and Ralph are the reasons that I am living in China.  I am blessed because I know them and even more blessed because I am able to share in their lives.  Being with them reminded me that my heart is here after all, just as it is also in San Francisco.  I did not have to ship my heart over, but I did have to grow that part that has been here all along.  While my friends will see the world with a variety of eyes, I hope to always see them with the eyes of my heart.