Time Hump Chronicles, Part 3

So.
It is 7am on the morning of Sunday the 16, and I have been in the US for about 36 hours. The ease I was blessed with on the way out in terms of jet lag and food adjustment doesn't seem to be reciprocal coming back to America, so this is the first chance I've had to write while not wandering around my house like a 50's housewife trying antipsychotics for the first time.

I flew out of Hong Kong at 10am on Friday, the 14, and arrived in Newark at 3pm on Friday the 14, after a 15 hour flight. My brain is still working on accepting that one.

After hanging around in the Newark airport for a few hours and chugging some American Starbucks (they don't have the Flat White option in Asia), I boarded my flight for Boston and sat in the wrong seat 3 times before a flight attendant kindly pointed out to me that I was looking at my ticket for the previous flight.

But eventually, I made it home! Since the bulk of my flight from HJ to Newark was during the "day" for my body, and then it was the actual day time for the US, I didn't really get any sleep on the way over. So by the time I made it to Boston, I'd been awake for about 24 hours. But thanks to caffeine, indian food, and my friend Laura, I managed to stay awake until about 11 AND take a shower before passing out in my beautiful, very own bed.

The next day I woke up at 8, which is pretty damn good considering it's a 12 hour time difference, and had waffles while dealing with the realization that I'd forgotten how our television worked. I even made it to the gym for a little bit before realizing that I didn't actually have enough energy yet for a full workout, then I saw a few friends, and fell asleep around 7.

This meant that I woke up at 4am, but at least I feel like a person again. And I got to see the American sunrise, which was an added bonus.

Word of advice for anyone coming back into the US in terms of food adjustment: You don't realize how much artificial crap there is in the American diet until you've been effectively cleansing your body in another country for a while. I thought dairy was going to be the big issue for me, considering that it pretty much doesn't exist in the southern Chinese diet, but  it's actually been American bread products that have given me some problems. But it's a blessing in disguise because now I can focus on eating as naturally as possible, which is healthier anyway.

And with that, I close this chapter.

What I Actually Did in Mainland China

When I first came to Guangzhou, it was at the tail end of a whirlwind month in Hong Kong. Towards the end, I didn’t have any days off or time to mentally prepare for traveling to what may not have been a new country, but was definitely a different culture. So I arrived in Guangzhou on a Saturday night, after running around Hong Kong all day in an “Amazing Race” type bonding activity with the other interns. Arriving with no preparations, no expectations, and no local currency, I half-heartedly threw a prayer out into the universe that a city I’d never given anything to would embrace me anyway.

And it did.

Everyone I met and worked with in Guangzhou had an incredible strength and generosity of spirit. A lot of that comes from the fact that Chinese culture is much more about checking in with your neighbor and social responsibility than western culture, and also that the people in Guangzhou seem to take a greater satisfaction in their day to day lives. This is not to say that they are at all blind or ignorant to societal issues, or any problems they may have with the government, but it seems to me that they choose to devote their time to improving the quality of life in their community, rather than constantly complaining about larger scale issues. But they far from complacent. They just focus their immediate efforts on the things they can change, and don’t get neurotic about the things that will take a little more time.

Imagine if Americans weren’t constantly dissatisfied!

That Monday, I met the 30 campers who would be my window to the eastern world for the next 10 days. They were all between the ages of 6 and 10, and, knowing very little English, understandably preferred to speak Chinese. In Hong Kong all the children’s programs I’d worked with were conducted in English, with one of the goals being to improve the kids’ language skills. However, this camp was about character education, and teaching a 6 year old about this stuff was hard enough without throwing a foreign language into the mix.

Now, what exactly is taught in a YMCA character building camp, you ask? Honesty, Caring, Respect, and Responsibility, the 4 words that all American YMCA employees memorize before their initial interview and then forget about until they see them on large banners in the gym or aquatics centers. In Asia, they actually market every one of their projects and courses as pertaining to one or more of those values.

This isn’t to say that American YMCA summer camps are full of a bunch of heathens, but sometimes we get a little bit lazy in summarizing to the kids why we’re doing so much team building, or doing a charity event, or practicing critical thinking through games.

Being a camp counselor in Asia is not the same job as being a camp counselor in America. The expectations are completely different. In America, a counselor’s job is basically to ferry the kids around from one activity to the next, play games during free time, and to make sure the kids come home from camp in one piece every day. In Asia, a counselor takes on the role of programs coordinator and teacher, both designing and implementing the lessons and activities. It’s a lot more responsibility than I was expecting, but it also came with a great deal of freedom and possibility.

The first few days were tough, as everyone was figuring out what my role in the camp could and couldn’t be. Not speaking the language made it very difficult for me to take a leadership role in the activities, but I could certainly contribute by designing them. After a few days, the kids shocked me by starting to communicate with me, knowing full well that I knew even less Chinese than they knew English. The older ones used hand gestures, drawings, and miming to get their point across, while the younger ones would run up to me, say something in Chinese, smile, and run away again. It was amazing, and it made me kick myself for not trying as hard as they were to communicate from the beginning. One very little girl named Alice took it upon herself to teach me some Mandarin, and by the end of my 10 days I had a group of 5 teachers and a very long list of new words.

I’ve only just begun to process my time in Guangzhou, but I do know that I felt life experiences happening to me every day, even if I couldn’t define them. The culture in mainland China is beautiful, and the kids are curious, keen, and kind. Had I not been so excited to return home and see all my friends and family before going back to school, leaving Guangzhou would have been truly heartbreaking. 

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Chinese Internet Censorship

When I first got here, I was really confused but super thrilled that my phone could still connect, albeit incredibly slowly, to Facebook, Snapchat, google, etc. At the time, I was using my American SIM card and my teeny tiny international data plan. It appears that combination of the American iPhone with a non-restricted SIM card creates a sort of invisibility cloak from the Chinese government. But then I ran out of data (WAY too expensive) and had to get a Guangzhou SIM card and now I no longer have access to the following:

-Facebook
-Twitter
-Snapchat
-Searching through Safari (Yahoo is ok)
-Google/ Google Chrome
-My Blog
-Google Maps
-Instagram
-Youtube            
-And, for reasons I will never understand, Myslice. (The Syracuse University enrollment site)

So, if you’re traveling to mainland China and want to have access to these things, you’d better be prepared to pay about $50 per day, because that’s how insanely expensive American international data plans are.

Note: Hypothetically, you should be able to get a SIM card in a city like HK that will also work in mainland China (and hopefully bring some free internet with it), but it didn’t work for my phone, which is why I had to switch to my American card, and ultimately the Guangzhou card.

I was told that I wouldn’t be able to look some things up on the internet, but I just used Internet Explorer (ugh) to find the Wikipedia page about the Cultural Revolution and had no issues.

So, the lack of social media is incredibly and increasingly tough with each passing day, especially because all the notifications still come through, you just can’t follow them. I guess this is the real test of whether or not I can handle being cut off from Facebook, Instagram, et al…but it’s only for one more week.

The youth of China have a different solution. They’ve all figured out how to access these sites via VPN, so most of them are effectively working with unrestricted internet. And so far, it appears that the government doesn’t really care enough to do much about it.

Oh, and one last note: Although the restrictions are frustrating, there are a ton of movie streaming sites here that aren’t blocked at all J

The Jesus Cracker

Those who know me well know that religion (specifically, Christianity) is not exactly my forte. Growing up in a Unitarian Universalist church, I learned what I think are a wonderful set of values, and was able to develop my own moral and spiritual compass in a supportive, educational environment. However, our lack of intense focus on any religious text (i.e. the Bible) led to an innumerable amount of confusing moments, especially in regards to literary references and attending my friends’ churches for special occasions. Suffice it to say that I called the communion wafer a “Jesus Cracker” until some kind soul explained to me that this was not so.

So, when I told everyone about my internship with the YMCA, the first or second question everyone had was “But…you’re not religious?” First off, although I define myself as spiritual, this does not necessarily imply a lack of religion, (go google some UU forums if you want to educate yourself on this) and secondly…It’s the YMCA, more people at my gym are Jewish than not.

Both of these thoughts have recently undergone some reconstruction.

I think I’ve already mentioned that, in America, the YMCA is just called “the Y” in order to take the Christianity component out of the organization to make it more inclusive and attractive to a diverse community. It doesn’t really work like that anywhere else in the world, partially because YMCA’s are only exclusively fitness centers in America. In Germany, for example, it’s all about community building and family centers, so it’s not really a surprise that this type of environment lends itself well to being religious. I know it’s sort of difficult to wrap your head around, but the YMCA does a great deal of social work everywhere else in the world, and the Christianity component is an important aspect in uniting all of their programs, and standardizing their values to the community.

However, In Hong Kong, during one general monthly meeting they hosted a prayer session before it started. There was some singing, a little bit of a sermon, that was it. Religion didn’t really stretch into any of the programs I was dealing with, as Hong Kong is a fairly liberal and diverse city. My boss’ boss took pride in telling me that my boss was not, in fact a Christian, and that they hire their staff on the basis of their work, not their beliefs.

When I got here to Guangzhou, in mainland China, I was given a third example of how religion relates to the community, and to the YMCA. Christianity in Asia today belongs to the youth, not the older population. Many people know that in the late 1960’s, Chairman Mao launched his cultural revolution which, among other things, almost completely destroyed all organized religion in China. There have been roughly two generations of people since then. The first, the people around the same age as my parents, most likely grew up with little to no religion in their lives. Their children, however, tend to see this lack of religion as “old fashioned”, and look at Christianity the same way liberal American youths look at marriage equality; An opportunity to move their nation forward.

Yes, I just equated devout Christians and gay rights activists and neither you nor I are sure how we feel about it yet. (To the devout Christians who support gay rights, I apologize, and rock on)

I predict that the Chinese YMCA will become more religious within the next 20 years, as the younger population grows into leadership positions. 

No matter what country you live in, it’s clear that the youth are the revolutionary factor. What’s absolutely fascinating to me is how their missions and means can be so, so different around the world.

10 Days, and The Stuff That Happened During Them

At the end of last week, we received our final new intern, Paulina from Germany. The locals say that we look like sisters, which could be true except for the fact that Paulina is wise beyond her years, and certainly more mature than I was at her age! I’m going to tell myself that it’s probably a cultural thing. Paulina flew in on Saturday morning and by that night was eating Hot Pot with me, some other interns, and our boss. No time is wasted around here! (Hot Pot= Melting Pot but healthier and affordable.) She also speaks Mandarin. The Germans really know what’s up around here.

The next day we went to Ocean Park, aka the land of dreams and pandas. There were penguins, monkeys, shark eggs, roller coasters, food, and a very interesting game of international Apples to Apples. You also have to take a cable car to get from the animal exhibits to the theme park…which was terrifying but magnificent, and left Chris and the other Germans 2-2 for talking me through my irrational fear of slow moving high flying transport.

The next day was the long awaited Cultural Sharing day. Each country got a table and a small budget and a bunch of local kids to entertain. Team America went for temporary tattoos and mini American flags, which turned out to be a hit. That night, each country cooked a dish (Mac & Cheese and S’mores because, let’s be honest, we couldn’t make the American diet look any worse than it already does.) and we had a lovely international dinner.

Then the work week started again and I was back in the Kornhill Centre, writing blog posts about the Umbrella Revolution while I was supposed to be making a slideshow of my time in HK. My last day at the center I got to talk to some local high school students about their day to day lives, and Connie and I took one last picture outside the office.

This brings us to last weekend, my last weekend in Hong Kong. There was one major thing left on my bucket list; The Peak. Hong Kong is built on a hill/mountain (Once again, not all that dissimilar to Syracuse), and the Peak is exactly what it sounds like: the highest point in the city. The views are spectacular. But before I got there, Brian, Chris and I had a lovely dinner at the British YMCA, where the biggest draw for all three of us was the western style salad bar. Vegetables do not come in salad form in this country. They come in soup form. That night, raw lettuce would have excited me more than winning the lottery.

After dinner, Chris and I went to the Peak. In order to get up there, you take this tram that goes up the hill at an impossibly steep angle. Luckily, we got seats and could live vicariously through the poor souls who thought they’d try to ride standing up. Half way though they were basically lying on the floor of the tram. We made it to the top, and got some gorgeous night time views of the city. As an added bonus, the increased altitude lowered the temperature enough that I was able to have a brief respite from drowning in my own sweat.

The next day I devoted to digging up some information about my Grandfather’s teaching work with the YMCA. I ended up right back where I started on one of the first days of my internship; In the General Secretary’s office. It took some time and a couple phone calls, but soon enough I was handed a file from 1968, the contents of which were written almost exclusively by my Grandfather. I learned that the previous secretary of the Chinese YMCA in Hong Kong was one of my Grandfather’s students, and when I go back to HK on the 12, I’ll have a meeting with one of my Grandfather’s friends who still lives in Hong Kong.

My final day in Hong Kong was spent touring the city with a small group of interns, armed with our instructions for the “City Hunt”. I thought we were getting into some sort of Amazing Race type deal, but it turned out not to be a competition at all, so it was a pretty relaxing (incredibly hot) day. And at the end of the day I packed my bags and headed to Guangzhou!

The train ride was uneventful, and getting through border patrol even less so. For the record, Chinese border patrol (at least in GZ, which, to be fair is barely outside of HK) is much, MUCH more lax than people led me to believe, and certainly less stressful than in the US. They’ve designed their train station to be “barrier less”, so there are no scary walls, rooms, partitions, etc. Just a big empty room and desks with guards behind them who encourage you to rate their service by pressing one of four smiley to sad face buttons located on a console in front of their desks. I was through in 20 seconds.

I’ll talk more about my expectations vs. reality in mainland China, but suffice it to say that it is certainly not like stepping into an iron box, at least not in the southern part of the country.

Today I was Lucky

Once again I’m behind on these posts (and I can’t even blame Chinese censorship since I’ve been able to access everything via my phone thus far). Anyway…

Two weeks ago I finished up my last week of classes. During the last session of our last class on Friday, I found myself alone with all the kids while I was trying to prep the next activity. To keep them occupied, I gave them a ball and told them whoever caught it had to tell the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. As I was sorting cards into piles for the next game I passively listened to their responses: Accountant, Businessman, Soccer Player, Professional Youtuber (that one did catch my attention), Scientist….*silence*. I looked up, and saw the ball in the hands of an adorable, talkative, well behaved 11 year old girl named Alisa. She just stood there, smiling, like she always did, except that normally the smile was accompanied by a story or a never ending stream of laughter. In this moment, she was silent, a smile plastered on her face while her classmates prompted her to speak.

I asked Alisa if she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she nodded. I asked if she would tell us, and she said no. At this point I had a suspicion of where this was going, and I asked her if the reason she wouldn’t tell us was because she thought her idea was silly. She responded “It’s unrealistic, it’s just a dream”.

And thus Alisa’s fate was sealed as fodder for my favorite teaching moment of the entire program. Alisa whispered her aspirations to one of our teaching assistants, who confirmed what I’d already guessed; Alisa wanted to be a Singer and an Actor.

When the class finally quieted down, I asked them what they thought I went to school for. Not to anyone’s surprise, they all said “Teacher”. When I told them I went to school for Theatre, Alisa’s jaw literally dropped while the rest of the class went silent.

I won’t bore you with the specifics of the improvised life sermon that came after, but suffice it to say that when I was done, I think I believed my final point even more than the kids: What you choose to study in school does not matter. What matters are your life experiences, and the skills you gain along the way.

Later that day I ran into Alisa on the train. She asked me what I’d done at her age to get involved in theater. I told her I’d just done community shows wherever I could, and that at the time all I knew was that I loved what I was doing and didn’t want to stop. She asked what to do in order to make her dream a reality. I told her to be smart, smarter than everyone else. I told her that everything she was learning in school would help her to become an artist, even math. She looked at me like I was an alien. I told her that artists are some of the smartest people in our society, because they never stop learning. She looked at me and nodded.

Then she took a red yoyo out of her backpack and we stood in silence the rest of the trip, watching the plastic circle go up and down, up and down.