Today is Palm Sunday. However, instead of waving fronds and shouting praises, I’m doling out vocabulary quizzes and checking homework. Let me explain. Today is actually Tuesday. And Saturday was Monday. Don’t let your calendar mess with reality! The academic bigwigs of China have declared a national reconfiguration. You see, Wednesday is Qing Ming Jie (Tomb Sweeping Festival), a national holiday. In order to have adequate time to celebrate, the holiday has been extended to include Monday and Tuesday. But since Monday and Tuesday are not true holidays, they must be made up somewhere. So why not exchange Monday and Tuesday with Saturday and Sunday? Perfect solution! Now you can enjoy your holiday and the weekend at the same time. Never mind the seven-day work week prior to…

Oh, and it’s April Fool’s today too! This explains why I caught my 25 students sneaking into the stairwell across from the classroom. Gotcha!! You should’ve seen their faces later as I explained with clarity and conviction the contents of their impending vocabulary quiz. It would last for 1 hour and include all 50 words I’d assigned as homework. “April Fool’s!” I shouted victoriously before the windows imploded from the collectively gasp. Who says working weekends can’t be fun!

So last night, siting on the couch, I’m pondering what to have for dinner the next day.  I’ve been adjusting to having 2 burners and a toaster oven… and have acquired a few new recipes along the way.  Last night I was in need of a new recipe.  So I whipped out the iPad and typed in my favorite recipe website.  Hmm…I let my brain pull up a mental picture of my fridge innards…chicken…apples..yeah, that’s about it.  I transferred that data to my page, and voila!. . .up popped “Baked Chicken with Apple Stuffing.”  Sounded good to me!

After scanning the recipe, I realized it called for one of those nice, easy boxes of stuffing that only requires water.  But Chinese cooks aren’t used to “easy.”  Their cooking adjectives are more like “fresh” and “from scratch.”  In a word–”stirfry!”  But I can only eat so much stirfry in a week.  So, I opened a new tab and went hunting for homemade stuffing.  Found “Bread and Celery Stuffing” and clicked to save it to my recipe box.  However, upon reading it’s ingredients, I realized it called for poultry seasoning.  I’ve never seen that in Siping. . .so I opened yet another tab and went hunting for homemade poultry seasoning.  Once that was saved to my recipe box, I was pretty tired.  I closed up the iPad and crawled into bed.

This morning I planned my trip to the market to get the ingredients for my cooking adventure.  Once Lili went down for a nap, I abandoned her to the care of my husband, bundled Lydia up, strapped her in my Ergo carrier, and set off for the market.  I visited the fruit lady for some fresh apples, then walked another 10 minutes to the vegetable lady.  Picked up some fresh veggies.  Visited my favorite little grocery store for everything else and headed home.  It was a beautiful, crisp fall day for the walk.  And bonus!  Lydia fell asleep on the way back.  So with the iPad perched on my kitchen window sill, I set to work at 5:30 pm.  Two hours later, we sat down at our little dinner table. Hao Chur!–Good eating!

“Just skip it.”  Is he really serious?  My fearless leader is telling me to flake on my scheduled office hours!  Just yesterday I told my freshman class that I would be there every Thursday from 3:30 to 5:00pm.  It’s printed in my syllabus.  Surely, he’s joking.  My newbie naiveté put itself on full display with the simple question, “Are you sure?”

His flippant yet revealing answer settled the issue.  ”Yeah, just skip it.  Everyone will understand.  Intra-department sporting events are a big deal.  They will even tell you to skip your classes to play.  This happens once a year and you’re committed.  You represent the Foreign Languages Department.  If you don’t show up, we lose face.  All of your students will understand.  It’s top priority.”

I’m still uncomfortable with my decision, but discomfort is becoming normal as I make the switch from Western to Eastern culture.  I’ve learned that most events (even annual ones) on my Chinese campus are not scheduled in advance.  I will never receive a master schedule.  I will be informed of holidays, sporting events, required banquets, etc. at the appropriate time, which is usually less than a week out.  Formal banquets will often be less 24 hours. If I’m hosting a student party at my house, it’s postponed.  Class is dismissed or rescheduled.  No explanation necessary.   If the administration calls, you haul.

In this case, it worked out great.  Office hours in exchange for a great volleyball match.  Oh, and my team of teachers from the Foreign Languages Department totally slaughtered the Environmental Sciences, Political Science/Law and the History Department!  What can I say?  We are fluent in volleyball!

“Do you like Lady Gaga?”  I open the floor for questions and this is what I get!  My graduate students can ask their new English teacher any question and look what they choose.  During my first week of teaching I also fielded other oddities such as “Do you like famous brands such as Chanel?”  On this one I tried to steer the conversation toward something I can actually afford, like Nike (on clearance).  Perhaps I just lacked the confidence to explain in simple English why I didn’t prefer expensive French makeup.  One young man even asked if I liked going to nightclubs.  Teaching in China is going to be quite a trip!

In case you’re wondering…after microseconds of deliberation, I did admit that I DO NOT, in fact, like Lady Gaga!  I didn’t reveal that I can’t name even one of her songs.  Of course my student sweetly and every so fluently inquired, “Why?”  Every day is a new adventure in the classroom…and new opportunities for meaningful discussions.  Just imagine where these questions could lead…

Getting a haircut is easy, right?  Not so in China, at least for a novice like me.  First of all, one must be careful to choose a barber shop that actually cuts hair.  Sadly, many salons throughout Asia are merely fronts for brothels.  Males entering such venues alone quickly get ‘special’ attention.  It gives a whole new meaning to barbarism.  With such a warning on my mind, I was naturally skittish.  Furthermore, it’s a lot harder to to say “Give me a three on the sides and taper it to the top” than my standard Chinese “Ni hao.”

Into Wenfeng barbershop I brought along a shaggy friend and his wife.  She came along to translate and fend of any would be female assailants.  None appeared, but it still proved to be quite a different experience from Great Clips!  First, I was taken to the wash room and told to lay down in a nice chair to have my hair shampooed.  Part of my haircut deal, less than $5, included a washing and short scalp massage.  Very nice!  After the wash, a brown towel was wrapped tightly around my dripping hair.  ”Now it’s time for my haircut,” I thought, as we returned to the main room.  But it wasn’t my turn yet!  So I sat impatiently among the masses with my trendy brown towel and tried to feel normal.  Not happening!  As a last vain attempt to appear nonchalant, I decided to sip some of the complimentary hot tea while I waited.  As it turns out, Chinese haircuts are fine, but I don’t like chrysanthemum tea or wearing towels in public.

“How do I get across?”  This thought sounded alarms in my head and twisted my stomach the first day in Beijing.  I was standing on the street corner beside my hotel.  My goal was to safely reach Wu Mart (yes, the name is real!) and purchase some fresh drinking water.  A crosswalk was painted on the street, but the cars ignored it.  Taxis, buses, three-wheeled bicycles, and cars of every sort whizzed by without a shred of respect for my life.

Danger is a culturally conditioned value.  My American voices in my head (mostly my mother’s) shouted for me to look both ways, wait my turn, and proceed with caution.  Once on the street I would gain the right of way.  Crossing the street any other way was dangerous!  I’ve since been informed that Chinese drivers’ instincts are telling them to watch for the cars and pedestrians moving around them and honk if they get too close…just to make their presence known.  Whoever gets there first has the right of way!  Being inches aways from a moving vehicle is not only normal, it’s a frugal use of precious space.

Now I often find myself pausing in the middle of the street, while I wait for a break on the opposite side.  In fact, I crossed eight lanes of traffic tonight without any close calls (relatively speaking).  Don’t tell my wife, but I’ve discovered that a stroller comes in mighty handy for gaining the right of way!  Don’t wag your finger.  I’m still very safe by Chinese standards!