Explaining Liuzhi
I am a Peace Corps Volunteer teaching English in far western Guizhou
Province, China. I teach along with my fiance, Becky, in a medium sized
city called Liupanshui far out in the Southern Coal Sea. Liupanshui is the
administrative center for three counties, Liuzhi, Panxian, and Shuicheng.
These counties are each named for the largest town within it’s boundaries.
Most of our students come from the outlying areas of one of these three
counties and we are constantly getting requests for us to accompany them
home. These areas are very isolated, beautiful, and going to them would
offer an experience that not many foreigners get in China. Unfortunately,
our teaching schedule doesn’t allow us to honor the requests very often.
A month or so ago we were offered a chance to go to Luizhi, not with a
student, instead with one of our fellow English teachers who was willing to
accommodate our schedule. It was a wonderful opportunity to experience one
facet of the “real China.” And I am, or should say, will be grateful. The
trip turned out to be one of those that was annoying at the time but I’m
sure I will have fond memories in the future.
The teacher we went with is named Wu DeLu, but Becky and I just call him
Mr. Wu because he never understands when we call him by his full name. Mr.
Wu is 25 and the youngest teacher in the English Department. Along with me
(and I don’t really count because as a foreigner I’m not really a person),
Mr. Wu is also the only male in the English Department. Mr. Wu is a tiny
little man with buck teeth and many gnome-like qualities. He also speaks
English fairly well. Mr. Wu is a Party member and so must have some
influence but I think he is fed up with the Party line. Thus, he is the
only English teacher who has invited us into his home to make us feel like
actual members of the community. God Bless him for that. Mr. Wu is engaged
to one of his former students, one Ms. Yu who will figure prominently into
this story. Ms. Yu lived in Liupanshui last year but this year lives in
Liuzhi, where she teaches English at a Middle School.
Let me state that I am often ready and willing to give control (or
semblance of control) of my life to others and go with the flow. However,
there are other times when my mood, for whatever reason, will just not let
me be happy doing that. I think this weekend was one of those times.
We left Liupanshui for Liuzhi on the 8:20 train Saturday morning. We
arrived in Liuzhi at about 10:00. Mr. Wu met us at the train station and
that is when the confusion began. Keep in mind that Liuzhi is Mr. Wu’s
hometown. After a quick breakfast of noodles, Mr. Wu tried to get a hold of
Ms. Yu at the No. 2 Middle School where she teaches. It turns out that
Becky and I were expected to teach a lesson that morning. Nobody had told
us, we had nothing prepared, it was Saturday. We agreed to hold an English
Corner and let the students ask us some questions. On occasions like this
you realize that the visit is really a subterfuge to let Ms. Yu show off the
foreigners she knows to her students. She will gain enormous face this way
and it really is a small enough sacrifice on our part.
Mr. Wu was unable to
reach Ms. Yu on the cell phone that he had loaned her and after breakfast we
decided to make our way to the school. Once again, keep in mind this is Mr.
Wu’s hometown and that he visits Ms. Yu EVERY weekend. Mr. Wu, Becky, and I
went out to the main street outside the train station and tried to flag down
a cab. The first cab we asked, Mr. Wu decided was too expensive so we
waited for a bus. After waiting about fifteen minutes we realized that Mr.
Wu had absolutely no idea what bus to take to get to the school. So we
flagged down another cab. Mr. Wu decided to pay the price that this cab was
asking and after about five minutes we arrived at the school.
Mr. Wu’s little brother was waiting for us at the gate of the school. Mr.
Wu’s little brother is named Wu DeJin but as he is one of our students, we
have named him Tony. Tony is 19 years old and is almost the spitting image
of his older brother. If anything he is a bit taller and a bit stranger
looking. As Mr. Wu went into the school gate, Tony took us to Ms. Yu’s
apartment so that we could drop off our stuff. Ms. Yu lives in typical
single teacher housing and shares an apartment with two other female
teachers. After we had dropped off our bags at Ms. Yu’s apartment we went
back to the school to meet her and Mr. Wu.
As we got to the school, the principal and various mid-level cadres were
waiting to meet us at the gate. We went through a round of introductions
and then were escorted to the classrooms. We were under the impression that
we were to teach one class of students. That was the wrong impression. We
got to the first classroom, introduced ourselves and the bell rang ending
class. As soon as the bell rang, the windows were crowded with students
trying to see us. At one point, the door was kicked in. We had the chance
to answer maybe two questions (“How is your impression of our China?” “Can
you use chopsticks?”) before we were hustled out of that classroom.
We were then told that I would teach one class and Becky would teach one class, thus
spreading out our freakishness for more to see. At first, the students in
the class I was teaching were afraid to ask questions in English so Mr. Wu
translated their Chinese into English for me.
After awhile the class’s
teacher broke the English ice by asking the following question, “In China,
people have been very polite to you. Why is it when Chinese people go to
America people are not polite to them?” I didn’t think this was the time or
place to point our that the teacher was not being very polite. I didn’t
think the teacher would have understood if I had told him that just because
Americans don’t give every Chinese person they see they five pounds of
bananas they are being impolite. Or it might have been awkward if I had
said that just because Americans don’t shout “Hallooooo” at every Chinese
person they see or don’t shout “foreigner” at every Chinese person that they
see they are being impolite and in fact, the opposite might be implied. So
I ended up having to apologize for the rudeness of my countrymen. Exactly
what the nationalist bastard wanted.
After that the questions came fast and furious. Thankfully most of the
student’s questions were of the innocuous type. I did have two students ask
me about the war against Afghanistan. Fortunately I have developed a stock
answer for that. “All war is bad. This is a war. Therefore it is bad and
I hope it is over soon.”
One student asked, “How much does an IBM PC 580 cost in America?”
I answered, “I have no idea.”
The student then asked, “Why?”
I said something to the effect, “First of all, I haven’t been in America in
more than a year and quite frankly, when I am there I have more important
things to worry about than the prices of computers.”
After a few more “I’m very fond of Chinese food” and “You speak English
very well”s the bell mercifully rang, releasing me from my English servitude.
Mr. Wu and Ms. Yu gathered Becky and I up after class and hustled us off to a
local restaurant for lunch. We had sat down and were in the process of eating
when a cadre came rushing in and said we must return to the school for
pictures. Since nobody at the school had a camera it was fortunate that
Becky had brought hers. We took about thirty pictures at different places
around the school with different people and then were released to go eat
lunch. Lunch was uneventful.
After lunch we went back to Ms. Yu’s apartment with Ms. Yu, Mr. Wu, and Ms.
Yu’s older sister, a rather surly woman also named Ms. Yu to get our bags.
Once we got to the apartment Ms. Yu, who is very fond of resting, insisted
that we take a rest. Mr. Wu, who is not so fond of resting insisted that we
leave for our next destination. A short discussion ensued with Mr. Wu
prevailing in the end. We left the apartment for our next destination.
Everybody seemed to know where this was except Becky and me. Everybody
except Ms. Yu thought that we should take a bus to wherever it was that we
were going next. Ms. Yu wanted to walk. This time Ms. Yu prevailed in the
discussion and we set out through fields of lettuce. We walked down a hill
and then followed some railroad tracks along a fetid ditch filled with raw
sewage. I guess we took this route for the atmosphere. After about fifteen
or so minutes, the rest of the group mutinied against Ms. Yu and said we
must get off the tracks and onto a bus.
I’m glad we got onto the bus because it would have been a hell of a long
walk to where we were going which turned out to be a park downtown. Once we
got off the railroad tracks, everyone once again was confused about how to
get downtown. By this time, Ms. Yu’s sister, Ms. Yu the elder, had left and
we were joined by another English teacher from the middle school. After
much confusion about the best way to get downtown, we got on a bus. It was
raining.
After about ten minutes on the bus we got downtown and went
walking through the market area getting yelled at by passerbys. We got to
the park which consisted of two small karst peaks in the middle of town. It
was raining. We climbed up the first and shorter of the two mountains, got
to the top and stared into the mist for ten minutes. We then climbed down
the first mountain and climbed up the second and taller of the two
mountains. Because Ms. Yu is very fond of resting, we stopped and stood in
the rain several times on the way up. We got to the top of the second
mountain and stared into the mist for about ten minutes.
Ms. Yu then said, “Oh, we must go around to the back of the mountain.” So, in the rain, we completed a complete circumnavigation of the mountain getting wonderful
views of the mist all the way around. I also had the chance to slip and
fall on my ass, much to the consternation of my hosts. The fall was followed
by about 20 minutes of “You must be careful”s.
By the time we were done
with the mountains, the Chinese people involved were pretty angry at Ms. Yu,
especially the other English teacher because she had worn ten inch heels up,
down, and all around the mountains and her feet were justifiably sore. The
Chinese are a culture of foot fetishists and sensible shoes are not
something they do.
It is now time to explain something about Ms. Yu. Ms. Yu likes Becky very
much. Ms. Yu is also very curious but not necessarily the brightest bulb in
the fixture. She loves to ask Becky what things are and then ask Becky how
to spell those things. The typical exchange goes something like this:
“Becky, what are those?”
“These are shoelaces, Ms. Yu.”
“Becky, how do you spell shoelaces?
“S-H-O-E-“
“Oh yes, shoe,”
“No, Ms. Yu, S-H-O-E-L-A-C-E-S.”
During this time everybody is gathered around Becky and earnestly tracing
the letters on their hands, something that the Chinese seem to believe is a
memory device.
Ms. Yu will then say something like, “So you spell ‘shoelaces’, S-W-E-O-L-W-S”
Becky will patiently reply, “No Ms. Yu, it is spelled S-H-O-E-L-A-C-E-S.”
“Oh yes. Becky, what is that?”
“It’s a gazebo, Ms. Yu. G-A-Z-E-B-O.”
Anyway, you get the picture. Becky had to deal with that kind of
conversation, almost exclusively, for more than 24 hours. She is a saint. I
would have told Ms. Yu to get lost in about fifteen minutes. It was like
dealing with a two year old who had just learned the word “what.”
By the time we got done with what had become kind of a Matterhorn of
frustration it was time to go to Mr. Wu’s parents’ house. We had thought we might do something
like this but it had never been confirmed. Mr. Wu’s parents are farmers who
live in a small village about ten kilometers outside of Liuzhi. We thought
this might be kind of cool and in some ways it was or at least I will think
so after about another month of hindsight.
Once again, when we left the park, Mr Wu seemed very confused about how to get home. How he has lived to
be 25 years old and not figure out how to get home is definitely beyond me.
We ended up taking a bus out of town to the stop closest to his village. It
was raining. We got off the bus and walked down the road to a person who
sold mushrooms out of his house. We brought some mushrooms and continued
down the road.
We walked for maybe a half a kilometer before we got to the dirt track that
leads to Mr. Wu’s home village. He seemed to finally know where he was. We
turned off onto the dirt track and started up the hill. It was really quite
a beautiful walk past streams, hills, and terraced fields. Unfortunately,
it was rainy and misty. By this time the other English teacher had gone
home to repair her feet and the caravan to Mr. Wu’s parents consisted of Mr.
Wu, Ms. Yu the younger, Ms. Yu the elder, Tony, Becky, and myself. Ms. Yu
the younger had decided that Becky needed an umbrella so was carrying one
for her. Unfortunately, Ms. Yu is short in stature and the umbrella kept
hitting Becky in the head and blocking her view. Finally, Becky told Ms.
Yu, in no uncertain terms, that she should put the umbrella away.
Mr. Wu’s home village is about two and a half kilometers off the main road
and we arrived there after about a half an hour or so of walking. The
village consisted of maybe 30 families and was quite quaint. All narrow
alleyways and stone houses with stone roofs. I asked Mr. Wu if most of the
people in the village were Han Chinese and he said yes. I suspect however,
that there may be of Bouyi or Miao stock masquerading as Han to avoid being
stigmatized as hillbillies. Even though we were soaking wet Becky and I kind
of wanted to explore the village before dark. We were told that we must sit
down and wash off our shoes instead (culture of foot fetishists). I know
that they were just trying to be hospitable but after awhile, being told
what to do with no real explanation, even in the name of hospitality, becomes
trying.
Mr. Wu’s parents are middle aged and very friendly. Mr. Wu and Ms. Yu are
also very friendly, but by this point we were a little sick of their
friendliness. We were sat down in front of the TV and were made to watch
karaoke videos until dinner was prepared. I really wanted to hang out with
the elder Wu’s and smile and nod for a while but they were preparing dinner
so I watched the brothers Wu and the sisters Yu watch karaoke videos for
awhile. The Chinese are more mesmerized by television than Americans. They
hike kilometers back into the hills to visit their parents and to show off
their foreigners and once they are there, they watch karaoke videos. At one
point the T.V. had a glitch and the screen went blank. The Wu’s and Yu’s
continued to watch the blank screen as if Celine Dion was still there
singing.
The parents of Mr. Wu’s house was kind of an anachronism. It was made
out of stone, wood, and mud. They lived with pigs and chickens. Their beds
were slats of wood. Their toilet was a two by four placed over a pit of
seething sewage. But yet, they had a really nice TV, VCD player, and chest
of drawers all brought there somehow over this trail we had walked in on.
They also had flourescent lighting. It was kind of a house from the middle
ages with modern amenities.
Finally dinner was served. It was a series of dishes which were all very
good. Mr. Wu’s father came in to eat with us. He brought in a small bottle
of rice liquor with him. Mr. Wu the younger asked if I wanted to drink some
alcohol and I said “yes” very enthusiastically. By this point I really
wanted a drink and one of my favorite things to do is to drink hard liquor
with old Chinese people while we smile and nod at each other. After a few
sips of this white lightening my mood improved considerably. After dinner,
Mr. Wu the elder retired to talk with some of his cronies while his wife
cleaned up after dinner. The rest of us had a cultural moment watching the
movie “Ghost” on VCD.
After “Ghost” was over I was pretty tired and so was Becky. For some
reason, maybe because we are foreigners, we assumed that we would sleep
together. Wrong. It was slated that Becky would sleep with the two Yu
sisters and I would sleep with the two Wu brothers. Three people to a twin
bed. This was decided to be untenable so the sleeping arrangements were
redone so that Becky would sleep with Ms. Yu and I would sleep with Mr. Wu
while the others were shunted off somewhere else. After washing our feet
really well Becky and I crawled into our respective beds. We fell asleep to
the sounds of rats in the woodwork. At about two thirty Mr. Wu got into
bed next to me and I fell asleep once again with his feet in my face. Sweet
repose.
We got up the next morning and explored the village. Once again, nobody
seemed to know their way around. We walked out through some fields and into
a small valley where there was a waterfall. We were told to be careful a
lot. We turned around, came back into the village and washed off our shoes
at the well. We then re-dirtied our shoes walking back to the house. By
this time we had to make it back to the train station to catch a train
to Liupanshui so we could open our reading room. We ate lunch and I had to
turn down a ten thirty cup of rice liquor. Afterwards we bid Mr. Wu’s
parents adieu (they had been wonderful hosts) and walked back out to the
main road to catch a bus into town. Once back in Liuzhi, we caught a train
to Liupanshui and that was the end of our exotic weekend in the hinterland
of west Guizhou.
I’m sure I will look back on this weekend with fondness. And my hosts were
just trying to be hospitable. But sometimes, Chinese hospitality can be
downright maddening. After the fifteenth time saying no, please realize
that I realize that I really don’t want another damn banana. Please stop
arguing with me about how happy I am. If I am unhappy, I will tell you.
And for God’s sake please stop fighting about what to do, Becky and I are
really not that hard to please. Really, we aren’t. And yes dagnabit, I can
use chopsticks.
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