Thoughts and Photos from China

I'm sure there is nothing new to say about China. I really just want to post our mailing address for friends to copy.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

There's no place/ many places like "home."


Have you ever been unsure where your home is…not because you are lost but because you are found?  As Christians we all have more than one home.  In the words of the old hymn: this world is not my home, I’m just a traveling through… 

Jean and I know the feeling.  We are travelers.  At the moment we are once again “home”: the United States, Minnesota, Bemidji.  But in the past ten months our travels have taken us to a new “home”: China, Henan Province, Xinzheng, Sias University.  When we arrived there ten months ago—this was not home.  We were foreigners in a strange land.  When we left China a few days ago, we left places that have become more familiar than foreign, and we left people who have become more friends and family than strangers.  We are glad to be back at our Stateside home—we have friends and family here as well—but we look forward to our return to China in August.

We have experienced this sense of displacement before: previously we have called “home” both Africa, Liberia, Monrovia; and South Asia, Bangladesh, Savar.  Fellow travelers know the feeling.  We are both homeless, and yet have many homes.  In the words of an early Christian writer (from The Letter to Diognetus, author unknown, date about 200AD)

They [Christians] live in their own countries, but only as aliens. They have a share in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners.  Every foreign land is their fatherland, and yet for them every fatherland is a foreign land.

For Christians every foreign land is a home land and every home land is a foreign land.  Christians can be at home anywhere, but they are never really at home anywhere. 

Where is home? For Christians, it is with our Father and with our heavenly family.  Someday our travels will take us there, and for the first time we will realize the real meaning of the word: home.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Its Not Important-- Part 2


A few weeks ago I posted a blog about the Chinese tendency to keep their personal sorrows private, avoiding the sympathy of friends.  Since then I have added two new examples and learned more about the reasons for this custom.

Here are the new examples:  I made a significant error in calculating the grades of one of my classes.  Fortunately it was just a projected grade I was giving to the students, not an actual grade going on their school records.   I accidently copied the midterm grades from a different class into the spreadsheet for their grades.  Since the other class had done much poorer on their midterms, the result was dropping most of the projected grades of this class by about 5%.  I only discovered the error when a student came to ask me why her grade was so low.  I checked and discovered that every grade was wrong and then I found my mistake.  I gave the students a corrected grade projection and then apologized for the error.  The student response: “It doesn’t matter.” 

The second example is hearsay.  I am told that students in their senior year, including best friends, do not ask each other about how the search is going for a job after graduation.  The reason: in case the search is not going well they do not want to cause each other sorrow.  So best friends don’t talk about important personal matters.

What I learned regarding the reasons for this custom came in a discussion in one of my classes.

During the break between classes Jean had texted me some sad news: our son-in-law’s best friend was killed in a tragic accident over the weekend.  This news really saddened me.  I wanted to share the news with my class, but I knew that the cultural norm was for me to cover my sadness with a smile and not share with anyone.  But as I sat in the back of the classroom listening to a student presentation my feeling of sadness continued to distract me.  Finally I decided to not follow the custom: to briefly share about the sad news I had just gotten, and to ask if they would help me to understand why it is not normal to share such sad news.

The students immediately began chattering with their seatmates—the sound of discussion that is typical in our classes.  After a couple of minutes I signaled for the discussion to end and asked for volunteers to explain this custom to me.  Several students rose in turn to speak.  This is just a summary of their explanations.

One girl said the custom had to do with saving face.  I asked her to explain, and she said that sorrow is a kind of weakness that people don’t like to show in public.  Another student added that it is each person’s responsibility to bear their own sorrows and not to trouble others.  One boy shared that everyone should share happy things with others and keep the sad things to themselves so that everyone will be happier.  This can lead to a harmonious society.  (All Chinese frequently say that everyone’s goal is a harmonious society).  Another student shared that troubles are usually kept within the family and not shared with friends.  But then another student said that when he called his parents he would only tell then the good things and not the unhappy parts of his life, so that they would not worry about him (Maybe college students in the States do that as well!). Perhaps one student summed it all up by saying that Chinese believe that the best way to deal with sorrow is not to talk about it.  They believe that if you talk about sorrow, it gets worse.

After hearing these explanations, I told the class that American culture was different, that we often share our emotions with others, both happy and sad ones, so that our friends can share our joys and sorrows with us.  We like to sympathize and to be sympathized with.  The girl who had translated my question to the class responded to this by asking what an American would do if a friend shared sad news with them.  I replied that the friend would probably give them a hug (hugging is not common in China), say they are sorry to hear the news, and ask if the person wanted to talk about it.  Then the friend would sit and listen while the person told them about their feelings.  I said that Americans believe that the best way to deal with sadness is to talk about it.

After I shared this, one student bravely shared her story.  She said that her parents are divorcing, and she is hurting inside.  But when she tries to share her sadness with her dormmates they just say, “It’s not important”—that phrase again—“don’t worry about it.”  I thanked her for telling us, but I knew that she left the class still having no one to listen to her.  To me, that compounds her sadness.  Jean and I made a point to talk to her later, letting her share about this major crisis in her life.

Jean and I have talked about whether this is just a cultural difference: not right, not wrong, just different.   Maybe I am an ethnocentric American, but I feel the Chinese custom is not good.  Jean and I cannot change their culture, but maybe we can find ways to help the students we know be willing to “rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”