It Takes the Correct Environment

Three female classmates walked through the door of the local '7eleven' store dressed in evening formals. They had just stepped out of a black, stretch limo. My brother Robert and I gathered items necessary to make ice-cream sundaes.

"Hey guys! What are you doing?" Andi Focht, a member of Elkhorn High School's girls soccer team greeted us. Of the three, she actually associated with my brother and me on a regular basis. Michelle Fain and Sherri, whose last name escapes me at the moment, knew us, but rarely if ever spoke to us. All three had played instruments in the band at one time, but had all quit sometime after our freshman year and the trip the band had taken to Florida.

"We're getting things to make sundaes." My brother and I replied matter-of-factly. While I stood puzzled as to why these girls cared one way or another what we were doing, my brother and I had always been polite enough to get along with the vast majority of our classmates.

"Aren't you going to prom?"

"No."

"Didn't Allison and Vicky ask you guys to go?"

"Yes, they did."

"Then why aren't you going?"

"We don't want to." I believe that was the first time I had ever replied to a question of this type by stating my own lack of desire to attend. Our parents had never allowed us to attend dances or like events, because they disliked the environment. I had always used that as a safe excuse, placing the blame for my absence on my parents rather than on coming up with a real reason. But at the time of this convenient-store dialogue it dawned on me that I really did not want to go to my Senior Prom. I would rather spend the evening with my family (which only consisted of my parents, Robert and me, after my older siblings had gone off to college) than with a bunch of classmates who seemed destined to get drunk and do something stupid. In fact, I am still uncertain what these three girls, who rarely spoke to us, let alone struck up conversations with us, cared at all why we were not attending that evening's festivities.

"Well, have fun," Andi offered. "We will," we replied.

Nearly twenty years later, I found myself dressed in a nice Chinese (Zhong Shan Zhuang) suit standing outside of the Harbor Plaza Hotel in the Green Lake district of downtown Kunming. Last night was the Senior Banquet for Kunming International Academy. Being a high school teacher, I attended free of charge.

Around me stood young men of different heights, but all of whom squirmed a bit uncomfortably in their formals. Young women drifted back and forth in groups taking photos of their friends' gowns. I snapped a few photos as well and asked a student to take some photos of me and my date (the beautiful Miss Suli). Students and staff spoke to each other easily and enjoyed the camera flashes and stunning evening attire.

I know now that my parents had been correct in their beliefs about the nature of the Elkhorn High School prom environment. KIA, however, being much smaller and built upon a much different premise than the public school I attended, presented a banquet that felt like being back at home making ice-cream sundaes.
One thing my father taught me is that the woman is the one who is to be seen. Therefore, Suli wore a gorgeous, pale pink dress with sequins, while I wore a black Chinese suit with only a hint of pink (my dress shirt could be seen at the collar of my jacket). I felt like the luckiest man in the world as I strolled into the hotel, escorting this tiny Chinese beauty.Becuase KIA is such a small school--this year's graduating class is fifteen students--most of the students simply came prepared to be a part of the group, rather than arriving as couples. When Mark stepped out of his taxi, every eye immediately became glued to his stunning red and white Korean style suit. Mark is tall and thin, and the suit accentuated his scarecrow figure. However, he quickly tired of everyone wanting photos, as can be evidenced by his raised hand in this photo.
Here stands the senior class of 2007, all fifteen of them. Some will be going on to college next year. Some of the young men will be fulfilling their civic duty by being in their home country's military for their mandatory term. Some will simply be taking a year off before deciding what to do. I suppose that year off is no different than my twelve years "off" after receiving my degree before I decided what to do with my life.
As if the senior class was not small enough already, next year's senior class, pictured above, sport only ten possible graduates (Nu Ri and Jason are not pictured in this shot). The juniors raise all the funds and perform all the legwork to make the banquet happen each year, and these juniors did a wonderful job creating a memorable event.

After the evening's celebration, Suli and I strolled around Green Lake before heading home. The city has done a wonderful job of lighting the trees and buildings surround the lake. At night, the entire area looks like a carnival, without all the noise and smoke.

I have never regretted not attending my senior prom. When I look back on it, making sundaes with my family was the right choice. Twenty years later, deciding to stay home would have been a mistake, one I am glad I did not make.

Da He Bian: Real China

When people hear that I have settled in China to teach, the first questions posed to me often revolve around where I have been in China. I suppose I cannot help but be a bit sarcastic when I reply that this question is like asking someone who immigrates to New York City if he or she has been to Los Angeles yet. China's borders stretch to similarly expansive distances as those of our own United States. Therefore, to see much of the country requires either flying or taking long, sickening bus rides--like parts of Montana, eight hours in a vehicle may not even get one outside of your own province (state).

This said, I truly would like to see Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Tibet. I desire to visit the Forbidden City, the Great Wall, Lhasa, the Terra Cotta Warriors, etc.. However, travelling in Europe taught me something about myself. I enjoyed both Amsterdam and Prague--cities I recommend anyone to go see--but I fell in love with places like Maastricht (NL), Karlovy Vary (CZ), and San Marino (IT). These much smaller cities invited foreigners to come see what other things Holland, Czech Republic, and Italy have to offer outside of what everyone can see in an Encyclopedia Britannica. China is not different.

As part of an all-high school service project, the entire secondary student body and about ten chaperones travelled ten hours on a sleeper bus, then one-and-a-half more hours in smaller, 19 person buses to a small village in southwest Yunnan. Near the Laotian border, Da He Bian epitomizes the rural lifestyle of China.The picture above was taken as we returned from a 'hike' (more like a forced march) into the densely forested hills surrounding Da He Bian. We had actually arrived in the village to do work for the local school. Like most rural schools, this tiny educational institute housed all its students, because most people live in small communities spread out in the various valleys. On weekends, those students living within walking distance of the school return home to see family. Otherwise, students remain at the school throughout the academic year. Our school sat on a level piece of ground just up the hill from the main portion of Da He Bian. We slept on the floor of classrooms and in tents set up in their small dirt courtyard.
Upon our arrival, we had essentially been sitting for about twelve hours. However, I thanked the Lord that these tiny students offered us their benches on which to sit. Every place in the village came equipped with either a tampped-dirt floor or a concrete floor covered in dirt. Therefore, if one desired to stay relatively clean, one required some sort of stool or bench, or one must know how to squat, which I am still incapable of doing. As I rested on these small benches, I noticed the students who had brought them to us. They filed back into their respective classrooms where they stood for the entirety of their learning session. Watching them stand while I sat made me feel so selfish. We would later return the benches to their classrooms so the students could sit during their lessons.
Because service is the primary objective for this annual trip to a village, the KIA teachers attending took the time one evening to wash the feet of the students in a small stream about half-an-hour walk from the village. Most of the students appeared very awkward. Some did not even allow us to serve them, but it certainly was a highlight of the trip; it makes me wish I had some better photos of the event. I will admit that the trip itself seemed a bit unorganized. We had planned on painting, but the village had failed to purchase the paint prior to our arrival with the money KIA had given them. Therefore, we were left with three other projects which failed to spread our students out enough, leaving some to suffer boredom as they waited to see what they could do. This caused much tension amongst the students and between the students and faculty. However, on this one evening, we all set aside that struggle and the adult leaders were allowed to serve our student followers.
Even with our lack of resources, we did accomplish some work. One group of students managed to level a piece of ground in order to build a shed roof extension to the school's kitchen. Because Da He Bian is so far south, it never really gets cold. Therefore, brick walls with simple roofing sheets comprise all the buildings of the school. Windows have bars but no glass. In other words, one fears mosquitoes much more than a chill. This addition, while it will not be walled in, extends the patio area where much of the food is prepared before being sent to the kitchen to be cooked, and where the food is served. The students actually take their food back to their beds or to their classrooms to eat. And for all you construction guys out there, this simple shed was built with out so much as a single line to denote level.
The group of students I spent my time with received a project that was an exercise in near futility. We became stewards of a pile of rough cut 4x4s and rough cut planks. We were to build new desks. However, with only four saws of the type you see in the photo, two simple planes, and a handful of hammers and chisels, we were left to figure out what to do until the carpenter arrived. So we measured desk tops and leg lengths and started cutting lumber. We attempted to plane the edges. All of this being done on a sunny baskeball court. When the carpenter finally arrived with a tiny table saw and an electric planer, we were thrilled. However, his tablesaw could not cut through a 4x4. Therefore, we had to cut these pieces of wood lengthwise before he could work on them. It took nearly half-an-hour with a dull saw to cut half way through the length of one 4x4. When we finally completed a cut, the carpenter would use the table saw to create four 2x2s for legs. Then he would plane them with his electric planer and tell us how crooked our cuts were. This left some of the students very angry and frustrated, especially when they saw the shed roof the other group created.

I returned to Kunming dirty, tired, and tanned. I thought to myself, I really want to see certain places in China. However, I am forever grateful that I received the opportunity to see a part of China that does not show up in the tourism brochures. Da He Bian is really China: canal toilets, mosquito netting, true free-range chickens, banana and rubber trees, and people who love people. They thanked us for what little we did, and the children smiled as we taught them new games in an effort to teach them English. I really should have made this three entries, but the year is coming to an end, and the experiences to write about are not.