Friday, November 6, 2009

Publically Relating

Meet in Vivian’s office at 4:30 on Thursday. Wear black.

Those two instructions encompass the information I was given about an overnight public relations trip to Yinchuan, a town in China’s north-central Ningxia Province. Mr. Chen, my school’s principal, invited three foreign teachers to join him. As the adventure progressed, the other teachers – Sam and Jon – and I learned more details. We were going to show our support of a study abroad program called AP. We are not connected to the program, as it is based in the high school, but the high school’s foreign teacher “doesn’t look foreign enough”.

On the way to the airport, we were introduced to the other members of our traveling crew: Helen and Karen, who are both school administrators with English fluency, and a high school teacher named Peter Pan. While waiting in the security line, Mr. Chen struck up a conversation with me. The result of that interaction was that he began telling people I was fluent in Chinese, which is nowhere close to true. Jon laughed and told me I had made a mistake in showing any Chinese knowledge at all: “I just gave him a blank look. When we get on the plane, I’m going to lick the windows. I set the bar low, Brooke. Now I won’t have to spend the whole trip with him trying to speak Chinese to me!”

Once in Yinchuan, we met our sister-school officials. A man whom I’ll call Lenny spoke some English and asked me a bunch of questions about myself, which come into play later in this story. They drove us to a fancy restaurant where we had a banquet. It was 9:30pm and we were still full from the dinner we ate in Beijing, but it was important to show our hosts respect by trying all the food. Lenny insisted that I sit next to him. As I sat down, he leaned in and said, “I will teach you Chinese and you will teach me English. Okay, Teacher?” We began to eat and Lenny went around the table, announcing only each person's name and title. I was the last to be introduced. Lenny boomed, “This is Brooke. Her Chinese name is Xiao Xi. It has the same meaning as her English name. A small stream. You know, water. Xiao Xi is twenty-nine years old. She is a pretty girl. She is from Washington. That is not the capital of America. It is in the northwest of America. She is welcome to come to Yinchuan anytime.” I thought, ‘Ohhhhh golly.’ I may have said it out loud. My embarrassment wiped out that part of the memory.

Throughout the meal, Lenny called me “Teacher” and asked me how to say things in English. Because it was a typical Chinese banquet, it involved a lot of alcohol (not for me though, per an ELIC commitment), so Lenny’s speech ability and content worsened as the night progressed. “Fish head. Fishhh head. Am I saying it right, Teacher? Fishhhhhh head.” Many of his comments made me feel uneasy. Later that night, the Father blessed me when Sam made some staunchly protective measures on my behalf.

The next morning, we toured Yinchuan’s No. 2 High School. It was an expansive campus. We spent time in a classroom, talking with AP students. I first spoke with a group of girls. They were extremely shy and I wasn’t sure how to put them at ease, so I cut to the chase. “Which of you has a boyfriend?” I asked. Giggles and raised hands followed. Then, our conversation took off.

After an hour of speeches in the auditorium and lots of photos, we drove to a lunchtime banquet with Yinchuan’s mayor. It was lavish. I felt out of place, but had a lot of fun. Near the end of the banquet, they began a drinking game. A server came around with a special deck of cards and everyone had to take one. In turn, each person read the thoughtful quote from the card, and carried out the included drinking challenge. Since I was drinking cola, they told me I had to sing instead. I knew which song I was going to sing – I’ve been to banquets like this before. I keep “Adelweiss” in my figurative back pocket, knowing that Chinese people love the song and will usually sing along, thus lessening the pressure of a solo. Even so, I told them I needed to think for a minute, secretly buying myself some time to catch my breath and will my hands to stop shaking. I eventually wavered through the song, thankful for those who clapped and swayed encouragingly. When it was Jon’s turn, I expected him to have to sing too, but his card demanded that all the women at the table go over and toast him. Lucky guy.

Our time in Yinchuan ended with a short tour of the city. I didn’t get to do touristy things like riding a camel or surfing sand dunes. I didn’t even get to see my friends Annie and Brian, but I am glad I went. In many small ways, I hope my interactions there reflected my Abba. I enjoyed the chance to see a new place and learn more about my co-teachers, Jon and Sam. Helen is my neighbor and Karen is moving into the building next week, so I look forward to more time with them in the future. He is good. In Beijing, in Yinchuan, and wherever you are today.









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1 comment:

  1. Wow... you've come such a long way since the Blue Sky days of wise-cracking your way through banquets. I think after my alma mater, we were never asked to sing again at any of those, at least.
    Seriously, glad to hear it's going well. Tony from the international group taught me the no-Chinese-on-trains trick. I used it very sparingly from then on, and with the frequency of train travel last year, it was invaluable knowledge. The only time I threw Chinese around liberally was when I had a standing-room-only ticket and was suckering people into letting me sit with them.

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