Walking advertisements

By Kevin

Once again, we were an advertisement. In exchange for the use of one of the first 70 degree Spring afternoons of the year, we were giving  the University "face." But that's not what we were told going in. All we were told was that there would  be an activity (活动) in the afternoon involving sports. And that we must come and participate. There's no asking:  when you are a student, the school often tells you what to do.

The cameraman we had to wait for before starting

When we arrived with around 150 of the other foreign students on campus, the teacher in charge divided us into four rows of people and explained that we were going to be filmed by CCTV (China's national TV station) and the local Ningxia TV station because Ning Da is participating in 留动中国 (meaning "stay active China," I think) -- an activity meant to promote "healthy exercise" (redundant, I know), cultural exchange and "joining hands in  the sun" for foreign students living in China. It sounds like participating schools were supposed to arrange 3-on-3 basketball  tournaments, ping-pong matches and 毽子 (jianzi) (a sort of traditional Chinese hacky-sack) exhibitions,  in addition to other cultural activities. While we waited for the videographer to show up, a reporter  started making the rounds, interviewing several students, including our teammate about all sorts of  things. I heard a few questions about food and studies and why he came to China. Nothing could start  until the videographer was there.

3-on-3 basketball "trials"

It really came as no surprise that our sports activity, which the school's website called "trials" for a national competition featuring foreign students didn't actually involve most of us doing something we wanted to do or really learning anything. After all, this was a made-for-TV event. Not an actual activity for  our enjoyment or enrichment, no matter what the propaganda said. At the root, I figured it would be some sort of face-giving publicity stunt, no matter how much it had been dressed up as a fun outing. In fact, though we were told it would involve playing  sports, very few were chosen to don University t-shirts and compete. The school chose six guys they'd heard could play basketball (two of them our teammates), gave them T-shirts and split them into two teams. The rest of us were just told to  be there.

A handful of students played. The rest of us were the audience.

Foreign students holding signs

We were supposed to simulate a "real" competition. The athletes would play their hearts out. The rest  of us were told to 拉拉手, which I took to mean, be cheerleaders (the closest dictionary entry I could  find to this says "to shake hands" -- either that or maybe I got the tones wrong and she meant 辣手,  which means "troublesome" or "vicious" -- I'm guessing that none of these are what she was going for).  We were to mimic the way Chinese students constantly cheer on their classmates at sports meets and basketball games , shouting the traditional Chinese cheer of “加油” (add oil! -- meaning  something like "more effort" or "go team"). But few joined in. Most  just watched. We just weren't  naturals. Teachers repeatedly attempted to start a chant, but it would die before the third or fourth repetition. A few chanted cheers in Russian or other native languages. Students who were given an assignment to hold four signs reading 留动中国 held the signs with less and less enthusiasm as the game went on. The student  tasked with holding up the 宁夏大学 sign tried to prop it up using a package of water bottles, then later by attaching it to another student's backpack.

Student shows off his prowess at jianzi, a Chinese hacky-sack-like game

The basketball players played a fierce half-court game for 15-20 minutes, long enough for our teammate to get a  bloody nose and hurt his knee. Then, as they finished their  game, the teachers pointed the rest of us to the other end of the court and told us to watch and learn how to pay 毽子 (jianzi). In this game, which has been around since the fifth century, we all spent a few minutes attempting to use long-dormant or non-existent hacky-sack skills as we kicked around a shuttle-cock made from four brightly colored feathers attached to two or three small quarter-sized pieces of metal. A few  students from Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan had obviously played something similar before because soon they  were jumping in the air, tapping the feathered hacky sack back and forth, showing off for the cameras.  A teacher tried to get the rest of the students to gather around and again cheer them on for the  cameras. By this time the crowd had shrunk to maybe 100 students. And half weren't interested in  anything more than chatting with friends.

By the time we made it to the third activity, the ping-pong "tournament," only 50 or 60 students were left to crowd around the ping-pong tables in the  classroom building. But still the cameras rolled.

Wang Hui, school director, interviewed by NXTV.

In the end, I don't know if it had the desired effect. Perhaps if the competitions were real, rather than made-for-TV, people would have gotten into it.  Perhaps if everything didn't feel so staged and manipulated it would have worked. But it didn't. It  felt forced because it was. But maybe that's not how the school saw it. After all, the local news did run a report on the event, trimming out the fat and concentrating on the action and conveying the message the school was going for: "The primary (goal is) to offer our foreign students and Chinese university students a platform to interact and at the same time give them more opportunities to experience Chinese culture," said Wang Hui, the director of the School of International Education.

The only interaction we had with Chinese University students was with the three who served as referees of the basketball and ping pong matches. We probably could have gleaned the Chinese love for ping-pong or basketball without attending a staged event. The jianzi activity was interesting, but most of what I learned about Chinese culture came from reading Wikipedia after learning that the sport isn't actually called "Chinese hacky-sack."

So I guess I learned two things - the importance of giving face and the name of the hacky-sack-like sport.Being the foreign faces in the crowd often gets us roped into events ostensibly for education's sake. But really it's all about giving face or  publicity sake. We often go along with the publicity shoots because they "give face" to our hosts. "Face" is a huge thing in Chinese culture, so our hosts are generally more appreciative (at least when we were teachers they were -- as students, it's more of an expectation). Surely the school didn't gain as much face as it  wanted. I wonder what we'll be roped into next.

Farmers work the fields at Ningxia University's experimental farm

As students, we've been taken to a  farm owned by the university so we could be photographed by  local media among the fields, we've given New Year's performances for University and governmental leaders from China and several other countries and gone to teach Christmas lessons at a local  university. As teachers, we've had colleagues and students ask if they could take our photo so they could advertise their school (even though we didn't work there), invite us to spend a day playing at the  kindergarten (meaning teaching the kids some English songs), ask us to give high school students an  impromptu English lesson and invite us to be interviewed for school radio programs, among other  things. The difference between the two was that as students, we tend to be told to participate, whereas  as teachers, it's a request. Often it's a very urgent request because they've already told others that  we will participate, but at least it gets phrased as a request. We then must decipher how urgent it is.

But sometimes, as students, when told that we must participate, it's just not feasible: there was the  2-1/2-to-three-hour one way bus ride last Spring to Shapotou,

Shapotou, sand dunes along the Yellow River in Ningxia.

a scenic sand dune along the Yellow  River. I went alone. It was interesting, but the full-day trip just wouldn't have worked with then 1- and-a-half-year old Juliana skipping all naps. Then there was the 5K our first fall in Yinchuan. Students were told that  they would be going to a small city an hour away, where there would be a 5K run. We were assured that we wouldn't have to run it if we didn't want to do so. We foreigners were also encouraged to bring our kids and assured that we wouldn't need a stroller. Thankfully, we declined the invitation, using the baby excuse. The bus dropped everyone off at the starting line, then drove to the finish line, forcing everyone to at least walk the route. Glad we decided not to go to that one. Carrying then 1-year-old Juliana for the whole route would have been terrible.
I can't help but wonder what the next face-giving event will be.

April: A Little Family Update

You may have noticed I haven't been doing a lot of blogging recently.  I haven't been doing a lot of things recently, and if it's a choice between blogging or say, showering, people around me would probably prefer I shower.  It's not really that I don't have time - since my last post I have polished off two seasons of Downton Abbey (if you can really call 7 episodes a season), a little Gilmore Girls, and several books, but typing requires mental effort as well as a tiny bit of physical exertion.  Tiring, so tiring.

However, I thought I would take advantage of this little holiday we are having right now (Qing Ming Jie or "Tomb Sweeping Day") to give a general update on our lives.

Kevin: Recently celebrated his 35th birthday with a yummy Mexican potluck and a team game of Pandemic (sorry to say the world was lost to disease one turn before we could save it).  Since then, he has been busy taking care of Juliana.  He has been getting up with her in the morning, playing with her during the day, and putting her to bed at night. He often makes eggs for me in the morning and does most of the chores involving food (grocery shopping, dishes), gross smells (trash, diapers), and an unreasonable amount of physical exertion (hanging up laundry, biking to get milk).  In his free time he does fun things like taxes.  The Royal Shakespeare Company just asked to use one of his pictures in a program, so that's pretty cool.  He'll even get paid!

Oh yes, he's also studying Chinese.  His class has recently expanded in both size and Koreans.  His textbook this year is a series of pictures and vocabulary lists to help describe the pictures.  Yesterday his teacher told him that if a woman is talking to her friend or relative, she might call her own husband "jiefu" - the term for your older sister's husband.  Chinese makes lots of sense.

Kevin's picture...does it look Shakespeare-esque?

Ruth: The good news is I have dropped from daily to weekly throwing up.  I really am doing better than a few weeks ago.  I've even been doing some things like cooking occasionally.  While I'm still eternally grateful to live in a city where we can get cheese and fresh milk, I have also expanded my food repetoir to include lots of Mexican food and three fruits.  Unfortunately I still have a fair share of bad days.  Usually I will have a good day or two, do too much, and then feel sick for a couple of days.  I keep reading about how I should be feeling better now and have that "pregnancy glow;" strangely nobody mentions the pregnancy cynicism (maybe that's my own contribution).  According to Mayo, my blood volume is increasing 30-50%, my pulse is increasing, my blood pressure is dropping, I'm breathing 30-40% more air, and approximately all of my joints and muscles are moving around.  Now that I believe.

Oh yes, I'm also studying Chinese.  We spent quite a bit of time reviewing measure words recently.  We have a few measure words, like a pair of pants, a flock of geese, or a can of Coke.  Approximately every Chinese noun has a distinct measure word (or two or three).  Chinese measure words are so numerous they could almost form their own language.  We also spent some time in general review last week which was very helpful since I had no recollection of some of the things I had technically learned.

16 Weeks Pregnant

Juliana:  My lack of energy is more than made up for in Juliana.  She has been in very high (not to mention loud) spirits lately.  She talks a LOT, says lots of funny things, and rather frequently breaks out into song.  Her favorite type of play is "make them talk": dolls, cars, pieces of train track, silverware - anything can talk.  She's gotten pretty used to immobile mama and now goes straight to daddy for, "Do you want to play with me?  Do you want to play with me??!"  When she misses mama she climbs on top of me and jumps around.  Her vegetable intake has suffered with my food intolerances, but I'd say she's not too close to scurvy.  She doesn't seem to mind all the extra quesadillas she's been eating.

A few weeks ago Juliana's foot got caught in Kevin's bike wheel resulting in two weeks of bandaged foot.  Kevin had to take her back to the hospital every couple of days to get the bandage changed, a process Juliana did not exactly love.  She also couldn't wear her shoe, which meant two weeks of no outside play.  Fortunately the foot is all healed up now except for a bit of remaining scab and scar.  Juliana is more concerned about the "hurt fingers" she gets three times a day since she got new Mickey Mouse band-aids.

Juliana does an Easter dance to "Up From the Grave He Arose"

Ruvin the Second:  Now around 4.5 inches long (the size of an avacado or grenade, whichever image you prefer), baby has doubled in size in the last couple of weeks.  In the next couple of weeks he'll also double in weight.  She can now hear and is sensitive to light.  Probably also sensitive to older sisterly pokes and jabs.  He is making facial expressions and moving around; I may have felt him, but I'm never paying enough attention to be sure.  While Ruvin is having an ever-present impact on my life and body, I guess all that growing is keeping her pretty quiet.

I suppose these days baby looks something like this

So that's what's been happening in our lives.  I'll just leave you with an anecdote from the morning.  Juliana worriedly examined a loose hair in her hand, "My hair!  That's my hair!  Can you put it back in?"  I tried to explain to her that hair falls out and grows back in all the time and you can't put it back, but she solved her own problem.  She placed the hair back on top of her head and said, "I put it back!"  I didn't argue.

Ruvin the Second

I told Juliana, "We have something exciting to tell you!" She looked appropriately excited and asked, "Is it a present?!"  It will be like a present, arriving awfully close to her birthday and all, but we'll have to wait and see how excited she actually is.  Come September (Juliana's third birthday give or take a few days) Juliana is going to become a big sister.

We had our first appointment in Thailand where we got to see the baby for the first time.  When we went into the hospital Kevin told Juliana, "We are going to find out about your baby brother or sister."  Juliana said, "We're going to find a baby brother or sister!"  Then spotting a young girl she cried out, "There's a sister!"  We have reason to believe she doesn't really understand how this works.

Ultrasound from my 13 week appointment

 We are excited, particularly in the moments when I've not been violently ill.  Pregnancy has not been super kind to me thus far.  I was sick with Juliana, but I have been much sicker this time.  I have figured out why they call it morning sickness - one morning you wake up feeling really sick...and then it never goes away.  This week I have seen a little improvement though.  I've started to make it through some days without thowing up - a wonderful feeling.  I've even been able to do some things like take a shower and do some laundry without feeling sick!  I have also been managing to go to class every day, though I can't say a lot for the study outside of class.  It's funny, but studying Chinese doesn't seem to help the nausea.

I am also hesitantly venturing beyond my 4 safe foods: eggs, bread, cheese, and milk.  Today I actually made and ate spaghetti!  Unfortunately this pregnancy, I can't handle Chinese food at all.  Even the smell is completely sickening.  This is really a problem when you live in China.  Kevin is having a hard time with food too, mainly because I haven't been cooking anything.  Fortunately there is a lot of take-out available.  Unfortunately it is all Chinese.  I hide in the bedroom while he eats and then burns candles and fans out the room.  I don't know if you've noticed, but Chinese food SMELLS.

I'm really looking forward to feeling like a mostly normal person again because these past couple of months have been pretty miserable.  I think I'm starting to turn a corner though.  After losing 6+ pounds, this is the first week I have actually gained back weight!  It's not often in life you get to be really happy about that.

We have planned to stay in America this fall, deliver the baby in Georgia, spend some time with our families on both sides of the country, and return to China after the winter holiday next year.  This means the baby will be almost 5 months old before his first international travel!  Pretty strange if you think about it.  It will be nice to not rush home from the hospital to apply for a passport, and it will also be nice for our family to have more time around the new baby - and for us to have lots of help. :)

And in case you were wondering, yes, we will buy Juliana a real birthday present as well.

Self-heating Chinese TV dinner

By Kevin

It felt like I was eating a science experiment.

I'd bought the box of rice topped with a common Chinese pork dish called 鱼香肉丝 （Yu Xiang Rou Si) on a whim last time I went to the grocery store. I thought it might make a quick microwave meal some night when  we didn't feel like going out or cooking something else. I figured --  I'd eaten halfway decent Chinese TV dinners in the States many times.  Undoubtedly the Chinese could do a better job of it. And I'd never  even seen a Chinese TV dinner before in China, I should give it a  try. But this was a TV dinner without the microwave.


I noticed Chinese on the front of the packaging saying something  about "10 minutes." But surely it wouldn't take that long to microwave  it. So I flipped to the side of the box and looked at the English  instructions. I was puzzled. Nowhere did it mention the word  "microwave" "stove" or "oven" for that matter. I looked back at the  front cover and noticed it said something about 自热 (zi re). I knew these  two words - "self" and "heat." The English instructions weren't  perfect, but they mostly got the idea across (copied literally, so  any unclear English or grammar mistakes are entirely theirs):

Directions:

1. Remove the plastic wrap, open the lid and remove the dish bag, the  wet tissue and the spoon
2. Cut the parafilm of rice with the end of a spoon tear off the rice  cover, use spoon to stir rice empty the contents of the dish bag pour  onto the rice evenly
3. Place the lid back on, pull the tape until the red label.
4. Wait for 10minutes and enjoy your delicious meal.

Cautions:

• Ensure the lid is tightly closed when pulling the tape. Beware of hot steam during the heating process. It is normal for the lid to rise by  approximately 2-3cm while heating. Do not attempt to remove lid  during the 10mintue heating process.
• Adult supervision is required for children. Please wait for 15 minutes in the elevation of 3,500 meter above area.

Thankfully the Chinese cleared up some of the punctuation omissions.  It also helped me figure out exactly what the "dish bag," "wet tissue,"  "parafilm" and "3,500 meter above area" were. The "dish bag" was the sealed bag containing the main dish (food) to be spread atop the  rice. The "wet tissue" is a handy pre-wrapped napkin so you can wipe your hands after eating (it wasn't wet). The parafilm was the  cellophane wrapper. And "3,500 meters above area" refers to elevation  -- almost 11,500 feet above sea level (For perspective -- that's  about the altitude of Lhasa in Tibet, where altitude sickness is a  common problem for visiting travelers, higher than the peak of any  of the mountains in the range near Los Angeles. I guess that mountain  climbers are envisioned among their clientele). 

I pulled everything out and looked at it, tearing open the cellophane  and dutifully pouring the contents of the "dish bag" onto the rice.  Inside the box, underneath the rice tray, was a napkin-wrapped cloth  bag containing a powdery substance lying atop a bag of a liquid  substance (water perhaps) with a string running across it and outside  of the box.

I shoved everything back into the box as if I hadn't done anything to  it and tugged (hard) on the string, releasing the water into the  bottom of the box, uncertain what exactly I should expect. Amazingly,  within a minute, the box began to get warm and a chemical-scented  steam began pouring out of the ventilation holes in the top and  sides of the box. It was working. Then I remembered those chemical  hand-warmers I used a couple times watching high school football games  on cold November nights in the States. It must be a similar idea. The  chemical smell, however, made me open the window and wonder: is it  safe to eat food cooked over a pool of chemicals? It felt like  something we would have done in our high school chemistry class.  Something that might end in an explosion.

I waited the 10 minutes it suggested to cook it, then remembered that  Yinchuan is at about 3,000 feet above sea level. A big difference  from 3,000 meters, I know, but it seemed like longer would probably  help.

I Googled "self-heating food" and discovered an article from The Guarding titled "Is self- heating the future?"  In addition to emergency workers, the author writes, "There should be a market for good self-heating food –  for mountaineers, campers and explorers, for luckless fishermen,  isolated cottages, power cuts and for the impending global apocalypse. There's a market for it, and nobody's cracked it yet."

I also found a Wikipedia article and some companies in the States selling them. They point to FDA claims that they're safe. OK.

So I pulled the box open and crossed my fingers that the Chinese company is using the heating method approved by the FDA, or at least that the Chinese food safety label on the front of the box means something. There was steam  and the food was mostly hot. I poured it onto a plate and stirred it  up, but the rice kinda stuck together in semi-hard clumps. I took a  deep breath and took a bite. It wasn't terrible. But it was too cold  and the rice needed more steaming. I threw it in the microwave for  another minute in hopes of softening up the rice. It worked. But it  wasn't something I'd purposely eat again, either. The "Yum Flavor"  claimed on the cover? Not so much. "100% New Sense." Sure. 

If it actually tasted, um, good, it seems like it might appeal to  college kids who don't want to go out to eat, since Chinese students  aren't allowed to have any sort of cooking equipment in their dorm  rooms. However, the 30 RMB price-tag (about $4.75) seems prohibitive.  The school cafeteria makes the same dish better at about 1/4 the   price. Plenty of local restaurants make it actually taste good better  for about half the price).

I found a website from the company (旺禾) with a video demonstrating the  heating process. I notice on the  page, they also provide microwave instructions. Might be handy to  have those on the box, but then again, maybe anyone who buys this is  just buying it for the novelty.

7 Point Summary

I don't feel like writing a real post, so you'll have to settle for a fake one at the moment.  Since we last checked in, here's what's been happening:

1. An eventful trip to Thailand.  Lots of running in airports.  Check out the last post for more details.

2. A relaxing few days on the beach.  We even enjoyed the rain, something we rarely see in Yinchuan.  Collected some fabulous shells.  Built sand houses for Minnie Mouse.  Splashed in the pool.  Buried Juliana in the sand.  Things of that sort.

3. Encouraging conference.  Juliana loved childcare and never wanted to leave, a pleasant change from last year.  Interesting discussions, catching up with friends, and hearing about what is happening around Asia.  Mexican food.  Dental appointments.  Not necessarily in that order.

4. A less eventful trip back to China, including a bumpy/curvy 3 hour bus ride careening through the mountains.  Not my favorite.

5. Meeting up with my parents in Xian!  Visiting with half a dozen friends and former students from Weinan.  They were all excited to see us and showered Juliana with stuffed bunnies, balloons, and bags of snacks.  She was quite receptive.

6. Returned to Yinchuan with my parents.  The weather has been much warmer than last year when they visited, so they've been able to see more of the area.  Grandpa, Yaya, and Juliana have been busy forming a mutual admiration society.

7. Next week we start back to classes.  Although our holiday has been epically long, I'm not at all ready.  What language was it we are learning?  Next week my parents will also have to return to America.  Remind me to check their bags for any small stowaways.

I don't want to upload a bunch of pictures, so just click on this handy link to see all the ones Kevin has already put on Flickr:
The Beach in Thailand

Grandpa and Yaya Visit (plus Lantern Festival and Weinan Students)

Flying in the hands of the Maker

by Kevin

We didnt know it, but were about to experience another travel miracle because our lives are in the hands of the maker of heaven.

As we sat down at our gate in Yinchuan, waiting to board our flight, I noticed the sign we dreaded most, "flight delayed." This is was the one circumstance we feared because our two-hour layover in Xi'an didn't leave much leeway for delays. But we figured it was an acceptable risk when we booked because the other available flights all left 4-5 hours earlier. And our Xi'an to Bangkok flight was not only the fastest way for us to get there in one day, but an incredible deal- $150 per person, one way--about half the cost of other options.

When we found out the flight had been pushed back from 12:20 pm to 3:20, we started grasping at straws.

Thankfully we had gotten to the airport more than two hours early, so I quickly used my phone to check if there were any other possible flights we could take that would land in time for ys to make the connection. I remembered that when we were booking there were a couple options that seemed too close for comfort. Indeed there were a few that might possibly get us there in time, but nothing looked promising. The earliest possible arrival was at 2:20. That would give us an hour and five minutes to claim our luggage, check in, get through immigration and security and catch our flight. Not very promising. Another flight would arrive at 2:25 and a third would get in at 2:35. Even worse.

I quickly discovered that if we missed our connection, the earliest we would make it to Bangkok would be the the next day at almost 11 am. We would have to stay overnight in Guangzhoy. Tickets - $334 each. "A thousand dollars," I said pessimisticly, wondering if we would be better off just skipping the days thawing at the beach that we have sorely needed and go straight to our meetings in Chiang Mai.

"Pease God, help us," I prayed quietly. Immediately my mind raced to the travel troubles we had two years ago with Juliana.

Then it went to the story I recently heard about the sovereignty if God and our need to thank him in all circumstances. The story is about a Chinese man living on the border with Mongolia at a time where there were many wars between the countries. One day his horse jumped over the fence and went into Mongolia. The Mongolians stole the horse. The Chinese man's friends came to console him. "Oh what terrible news!" they said. "Why do you think it's bad news?" the Chinese man asked. "Maybe it's a good thing."

After a couple days the mare came back to the man, together with a stallion. The friends came to him and said, "What great news!"

"Why do you think it's good news?" the man asked. "Maybe it's bad news."

Later, while the Chinese man's son was riding the stallion, trying to tame him, he fell and broke his leg. The friends came again. "Oh what terrible news!"

Again the Chinese man said, "Why do you think it's bad news? Maybe it's a good thing."

After a week, another big war broke out between China and Mongolia. A Chinese general came into the town and took all the young men with him to fight in the war. All those young men died, except for the son of the Chinese man. He couldn't go to war because he had broken his leg. The Chinese man told his friends, "See? The things you thought were bad were actually good, and the things you thought were good were bad."

Trevin Wax, The man who told the story, tied it to 1 Thess. 5:16-18:
"Rejoice always. Pray constantly. Give thanks in everything, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Really Paul? Give thanks in everything? No matter the circumstance? Even when one delayed flights might cost us more than $1000? Even when we might be adding another day of travel with our sleepy two-year-old?

God's small voice replied, "Even now. Trust me."

Ultimately, We have two ways to respond in difficulty. We can selfishly complain, "why has this happened to me?"  Or trust Romans 8:28: "Everything works together for good for those who love God." As my brother just reminded me, we can take the attitude Joseph had toward his brothers, who sold him as a slave into Egypt.  "Do not be grieved or angry with yourselves because you sold me here. For God sent me before you to preserve life," Genesis 45:5.

This picture puts God in the center, so somehow I know that even the bad things are working out for his glory and my ultimate joy in him, Wax said.

I admit I was struggling. But I trusted. In spite of my crankiness and pessimism about the immediate circumstances, I let go. I knew it was going to be ok. But it still felt like a crisis. And I needed to do my utmost to try and do something. Anything.

I hurried around the airport to see if there was anyone from air china I could talk with, discovering that I would have to go back outside security. Great.

I rushed to the ticket sales area and thankfully one of the women there spoke good english. She wore a China Eastern uniform. Air China had no agents. My expectations were low. My Chinese is getting better but it seemed unlikely that I would be able to persuade the China Eastern agent to see if she could convince Air China to switch us onto the 1:20 China Eastern flight that would land at 2:20. I didn't even have the cute baby card to play. Ruth was still waiting with her at the gate.

Then she broke the news: the 2:20 China eastern flight and the 2:25 Xiamen Air flight only had first class tickets left. Cost- 1200 Rmb each. Almost $200. And we still might not have enough time to make our connection.

She said there was no way Air China would give us the first class seats even though the delay was their fault. However, she was fairly certain that they would switch us onto the China Southern flight- the flight landing five minutes before check-in for our Thailand flight would close. I debated, then decided that it would at least get us closer to our destination. She wrote down the phone number i would need to call, then shook her head and picked up the phone. "I will help you to do this," she said with a smile that hinted, "maybe their English isnt very good." As she called the airline, I checked prices on flights from Xi'an to Bangkok. Amazingly they were the same as from Yinchuan. "A thousand dollars," I thought to myself.

When she confirmed the tickets could be switched, I decided we needed to risk it on the slim possibility that perhaps the Air Asia flight might be delayed. "I think that is the only way we even have the possibility of getting there today," I told Ruth. She and Juliana were still waiting in the secured area, so they needed to hurry out. We were down to about 40 minutes before the flight would leave.

As they switched us onto the new flight, we hit another snag: our luggage was headed for our delayed flight. "Can you get our luggage out in time?" I asked. "We will have it for you in ten minutes, but you must go downstairs to the lobby and wait."

They printed out boarding passes and told us to come back upstairs when we had the luggage.

I gave Ruth my phone and she went to work calling Air Asia to find out if they knew if the flight would be delayed. By the time she got through, I had the luggage in hand and hurried her to the check in desk. They gave us passes allowing us to rush through security because boarding for the flight would soon close. It was a good thing we didn't get onto the flights with first class seats because we would have missed it. As I handed the guard the passports and boarding passes, Ruth was still talking on the phone, discovering that the Air Asia flight appeared to be on-time and that if we missed it,  there was nothing the airline could do. She hung up right as the guard was ready for her to pass the phone thru security.

As we ran to the gate, Juliana in my arms squealed with delight. "We're running!" she yelled joyfully. "We're running!" The sign at the gate said "last call," but we were able to rushed on and find our seats. In the next to last row.

Yet another obstacle. Our next flight might close boarding before we even got off this flight if we had to wait for 200 passengers to exit before us. After takeoff, we explained our situation to a flight attendant. Her English level was low, so she                                                                                 seemed confused about why we would want to be the first to disembark, but we explained that it was the only way it would even be possible for us to make our connection. She said she would see what she could do.

Then we began discussing our options: flights via Guangzhou at 5, 6 or 8. All of which would get us to Bangkok the next day at the earliest. We thought through how, in the inevitable likelihood that we missed our flight, we would first need to book a new flight. Then we would need to hurry and call the guest house we booked at the beach in Thailand so their driver wouldn't start making the three hour drive to pick us up at the Bangkok airport. Then we would need to book a hotel in Guangzhou for tonight.

Then we laid out our plan: we would run through the concourse. Ruth would take the backpack. I would take Juliana. She would go to get the luggage while I ran ahead to the check-in counter. Hopefully it would be among the first off the plane since we were the last to board. We would try and repeat what had just happened: I would run as fast as I could to try to get there in time to check in and get boarding passes without the bags and tell them that my wife would arrive with them a few minutes later.

Did I mention Ruth has had a cold the last few days, so she didn't have a ton of energy.

As we began our decent, the flight attendant returned and ushered us up to three open business class seats. Never sat there before, but apart from a few extra inches of legroom and it being at the front of the plane, it seemed the same as any other seat on the plane.

We rushed off the plane with six minutes left before check-in for our flight would close. Six mintues. Is it even possible to retrieve luggage that quickly, or check-in to a flight? Our main hopes were 1) our Air Asia flight would be delayed or that 2) at least we would be in the right terminal.

Neither happened.

When we landed, we had no idea which terminal we knew we were in Xi'an's terminal 3, but we didn't know if the international terminal had been moved there or if it was where it used to be in terminal 2. And the new terminal is huge. We seemed to be at the farthest end of it.

We were in a movie. One of those old scenes (before security restrictions) where a lovestuck man makes a frantic sprint to the gate in an attempt to try and catch their loved one at the gate, only to miss her as the plane takes off. But in reverse and doubled. We were running out as soon as the door opened.

As I ran, Juliana again giggled her head off. She kept laughing and saying "We're running!" There was nobody in front of us. Just long empty hallway after long empty hallway. Couldn't they have used a closer gate?

After several minutes, winded, I spotted a transfer counter with the first listing of flights. I looked at the flights. Ours was not on it. Every one was domestic. Ours was nowhere to be found. I wasn't sure, but it seemed that waiting for the five people in line would only slow us down further. So I made a guess and turned around: we needed to go to terminal two. Crap. Just then, Ruth was passing me up and we strode into the baggage claim area at the same time. Since she could use a luggage cart to get the luggage and our daughter to the check-in counter, she offered to take Juliana. She could sit on top of the bags and free me up to actually sprint without slowing occasionally to rearrange Juliana in my arms.

I looked out the window and spotted my goal: terminal two. Thankfully I knew what it looked like because of our three years in nearby Weinan. It looked about a kilometer away. I ran. And ran more. I kept running right past the international check-in counters.

Dazed, I asked where Air Asia was. The first woman didn't understand me. The second said "back that way," pointing to the familiar place we often flew from in years past. I hadn't recognized it running in from the new terminal.

I ran. My breath was a simple prayer. "Please."

As I approached, there was nobody in line. All the counters looked closed. A clerk glanced at me and looked away as she walked behind a counter and shuffled some paperwork. I asked if we could still check in for the Air Asia flight. She called over to another man and asked him a question. He looked at his watch and said, "we just closed boarding."

"Our connecting flight was late," I told him between heavy breaths. "I ran all the way from the end of terminal three," pointing out the sweat that stained my t-shirt. "Our first flight was late."

It was 2:54, really my one hope was that it had been delayed.

"Sorry. It is closed," he said. Then he asked, "How many people?"

"Three."

"Ni, ni de lao po he shei?" he moved to Chinese. "You, your wife and who?"

"Wo de nu er. Ta liang sui." I replied. "My daughter. She is two," I added her age in hopes that they might have mercy on us on Juliana's behalf.

 "Do you have bags?" he asked.

"Two."

"Where are they? Are they oversized?"

"No normal sized."

"How heavy? More than 15 kg?"

"17 and 18," I answered. We paid for "20 kg each."

"Where are they?" he asked. I will give them until 3 pm to get here. We can't wait any longer than that. We have already calculated the weight. I do not know if they will allow us to let you on."

I called Ruth. The bags were among the first off the plane. She had just gotten them and was racing over the same kilometer I had just run. With a cold.

"Where are they?" he asked nervously after another minute or two.

It was now 3:00, but there was still a tiny chance. They were printing out our boarding passes and making calls to the pilot and the gate.

"Call her again. We can't wait."

Ruth said they were just outside the terminal.

"They are almost to terminal two. They will be here in a minute."

He sent another worker out to look for her. He spotted her rushing down the corridor.

"I think she is coming," he announced.

The man smiled, but didn't say anything. I told him. "We will run."

They weighed the luggage, boarding passes and we hurried to the next stage - the immigration checkpoint. If I had rememberd that we would need to fill out departure cards I could have done it while waiting for Ruth to run. But I forgot, so Ruth and I scribbled our information onto the cards. It was 3:10. Again, there were no other passengers in the area. Just us.

The guard fumbled through our passports looking for our visas. The Air Asia clerk prodded him to hurry. Then he set them down and just asked, in Chinese, "What is your job." "We are foreign students, studying Chinese."

"Where?" In Ningxia. Yinchuan. Ningxia University."

I scrawled it onto the form and stamped our passports, letting us leave Chinese soil. I wondered for a moment what would happen if we missed the plane. Would they let us back onto Chinese soil? The clerk escorted us on to the Security station, I fumbled to get the tablet computer and camera out of the backpack so we could run it through the metal detector. Then hurried through. Then directed us toward the gate. Thankfully the international terminal is so small that it was right after the security check. They were waiting. The door was still open.

We gave the flight attendant our boarding passes, she welcomed us, ran in and sat down in our seats and laughed. "I can't believe it. That was a miracle," I exclaimed to Ruth as we sat, wanting to give every ounce of glory to God. "We had no business making it onto this flight. God is good."

Within seconds they closed the door. It was 3:18. Three minutes later we were taxing down the runway. Then, just a couple minutes after 3:25, we were in the air. My adrenaline still had barely worn off four hours later as we touched down in the Land of Smiles. Nobody wore bigger smiles than us.

A song blaring through my headphones as I typed this on the plane drew me into worship and contemplation.

"I lean not on my own understanding / My life is in the hands of the maker of heaven / I give it all to you god trusting that you make something beautiful out of me ("Nothing I Hold On To" by Will Reagan and United Pursuit).

Two days later as I post this, I can't attribute our making this flight to anyone but God. The number of things that had to go perfectly for us to make it were overwhelming. Though our faith was smaller than a mustard seed, we held into that tread of hope and He carried us. I truly lean not on my own understanding. But when you place your life in the hands of the Maker of Heaven, miracles can happen. He turns those circumstances we dread into something beautiful because it brings him glory and pleasure.

I also gained a new perspective on the passage in James that says, "faith without action is dead." Had we just sat there when we found out that the first flight was delayed and done nothing we would have missed our chance to experience this blessing. Had we limited our actions to the outcomes that seemed most likely, we'd have given up hope and had no faith. But had we only relied on our faith we'd be stuck. But faith accompanied by action is alive. We acted, showing our tiny glimmer of faith. God opened every possible door to make that flicker of faith flame into fire. "I will show you my faith by what I do," James wrote. I am in no way comparing our saving money and time by catching a flight to Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, whose offspring God had promised would become as numerous as the stars in heavan, but I do think He wants to bless us abundantly and he wanted to show us a reminder of his love for us.

Granted we'll never know what would have happened had we not acted in faith. Had we thrown up our arms, he could have made another way, but it likely wouldn't have caused us to throw our arms up in worship because it would have have cost us $1000 and taken another day since there were no other flight options to get us in tonight. "I lean not on my own understanding."

A Not-so-Chinese Wedding

The very happy couple

This past weekend we went to Inner Mongolia to attend the wedding of a friend from Yangzhou.  I was happy to hear that she was getting married because even 8 years ago in Yangzhou she was wanting to marry but didn't know if she would find the right guy.  Well, she finally found the right one - a Nigerian man who was teaching in her city!  I was interested to see what their wedding would be like.

We took an overnight train and arrived at 4:30am after very little sleep.  Fortunately, since many people in China travel by overnight train, most hotels will let you check in early in the morning.  Usually not 5am early, but the receptionist had pity on us, so we were able to settle in and get a few more hours sleep.

Our yummy fish stew

My friend was planning to meet us for lunch but she had too many last minute things to do, so she had us meet up with two of her friends who had just come in from Beijing.  They were very nice (and relieved that we spoke Chinese!).  Instead of Inner Mongolian food, we ended up having some kind of traditional Northeastern food I hadn't had before - a big stew cooked in a pot on your table.  The table itself was stone with a fire in the middle.  The waiter came around and added ingredients to the stew and wood to the fire.

At the end of the meal, the girls said they would be going to a rehearsal later today, but they weren't quite sure when or where.  We were wondering where we need to go tomorrow for the wedding, so they both ended up on their phones calling around to see where exactly the wedding was supposed to be.  Fortunately it turned out to be just across the street from our hotel.

The next morning we dressed Juliana in her pretty dress and headed across the street.  Most Chinese weddings are just a banquet with some different rituals included, depending on the part of the country, but the first part of this wedding would be a Christian ceremony similar to American tradition.  A meeting room at a fancy hotel was decorated and chairs were arranged alongside a red-carpeted aisle.  As we came in we were handed small bags of candy, traditional Chinese wedding favors, and a program.  We noticed a poster-sized picture of the bride and groom in traditional wedding photo pose.

The bridesmaids in their fancy white dresses

The wedding started with a procession of the bridal party, the leader announcing each person as they came down.  Leading the group was a 7-8 year old flower girl and flower boy.  They both carried baskets of paper hearts they scattered down the aisle with the help of a mother or aunt who walked along coaching the whole way.  Then came the bridesmaids, all dressed in fancy white gowns, impressive hairstyles, and lots of makeup.  One of the bridesmaids was someone I think I had met a few times in Yangzhou but I really couldn't remember her at all.  Of course, when people get that made-up they tend to look radically different from their normal-life selves.  Finally the bride was escorted down the aisle by her father.  She wore a surprisingly simple and beautiful white dress and veil.  Based on my wedding dress shopping in China, I'd say the commonly applied clothes adage "pretty+pretty=pretty" is only multiplied for wedding finery, so I was surprised to see a dress without large bows, fabric flowers, sequins, or crinoline.

The bride enters with her father

The ceremony was really surprisingly similar to an American wedding.  Everyone sang some songs and the pastor spoke about marriage.  He seemed to spend a lot of time talking about the wife's duty to obey her husband and the couple's duty to continue to care for their parents.  For the sake of the groom's Nigerian friends and a few other foreigners, someone translated most of the wedding into English.  The bride and groom shared their vows in both Chinese and English, exchanged rings, and after lots of prodding, kissed.  The bride and the groom sang a couple of songs for us.  If there is anyone who loves public singing more than Chinese, it may just be Nigerians.

The couple singing together

As in any kind of Chinese ceremony, people talked amongst themselves a bit, but overall the audience was much more attentive than usual.  At least the adult portion.  The kids ran around in the aisle collecting and throwing paper hearts.  Juliana sat on the floor by my chair tearing up all the hearts within reach until an aunty gave her a piece of chocolate.  The aisle was lined with little pillars topped by flower arrangements.  Unfortunately the pillars weren't steady enough to withstand the assault of small children and one behind us was knocked over, depositing the flower arrangement right on my head.  During the middle of the ceremony a small todder wandered up on stage.  The bride smiled and patted his head, and after a few minutes he wandered back off.  I appreciate some decorum and solemness but I can't help but enjoy the relaxed attitude most Chinese have toward children.  They are readily accepted into most parts of life; if they make a little too much noise or run up on stage in the middle of a wedding, it's just not that big of a deal.

Afterward they ask several family and friends to come up and give blessings.  A few days before my friend had said, "Hey, you could say something at the wedding!" and I said, "Um, ok."  So fortunately I had a little advanced warning to find some (hopefully) appropriate things to say.  In a strange turn of events I spoke in Chinese while someone translated me into English!

After the ceremony everyone wanted to get pictures with the bride and groom, then we headed over to the restaurant for the wedding banquet.  We were very surprised to find the banquet was going to be held at a Brazilian barbeque restaurant!  It didn't really seem Chinese or Nigerian, and it certainly wasn't traditional, but it was good.  We helped ourselves to a buffet style mix of Chinese and Western food and then waiters came around to the table and cut off pieces of meat - rib, bacon, tongue...  The especially funny part about this restaurant, a chain we went to once in Weinan, is that the whole restaurant is German themed!  I'm not quite sure where that fits in.

As we ate the bride and groom went around to each table, accompanied by a bridesmaid with a microphone.  They toasted all the guests and the guests said a wish or blessing for the new couple.  In much of China, instead of giving gifts guests bring money in special red envelopes.  A friend from Inner Mongolia had warned me that in her hometown they just forego the red envelopes, though - a bridesmaid waits at the door to collect your money and write down the name and amount in a large book.  This makes it easier to know how much you need to reciprocate later.

I didn't get to see too much of my friend during the weekend.  I expected she would be busy with the wedding, but she really wanted us to come over to their new home after the wedding to visit.  Unfortunately our train left earlier than she thought so by the time the wedding festivities were over, there wasn't enough time.  I was still glad to be able to attend her wedding though.  In a few months we will attend the wedding of another Yangzhou friend - one I expect to be much more traditional.   I am glad to have these friends that I have known for almost 8 years now and have been able to keep up with since we have parted.  Once you become close to someone in China, you have a friend for life.