grease, guts and all that–you are my tiny flower field happiness

Songs included in this post:
If you don’t know me by now  (Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes)
Beauty School Dropout (Grease)
MJB da MVP (Mary J Blige)

If you ever feel discouraged or confused in China, just head into a stationary store

You will instantly be buoyed (or possibly further annoyed, depending on the darkness of  your starting state) by sunny notebook tag lines like “Spend my life with you!”  “Life is beautiful”  “Something like a smile is nice thing”  “You are my tiny flower field happiness.”  I gotta charge my camera battery and I will show you some actual examples sometime.

At any rate, I had a 12-18 hour major dilemma back there, and can officially announce that I am now a Chinese School Dropout.  I will tell you all about it, hopefully leaving out the most tedious parts of this tedious experience.  Really it was friends who helped me out, but a post-drop-out stationary store trip did its part to cheer me, too.

When you are in the beginning of a new place, things are so clear.  For a little while your whole world is the one block you’ve explored already, and maybe a subway line or two to another place, and that IS the whole city.  Then you find out there’s an art supply store around another corner and your world grows a little.  This early time in a place is always so sharp in my memory.  I remember clearly my first day alone in Tianjin, 11 or so years ago, when I debated whether or not I could leave the dorm alone and find my way back.  Everything is seen and felt and smelled and heard (I’m talking about you, hawked loogie) so distinctly when you are new.  You are just more…sensitive.

This sensitivity made my decision to drop out extra dramatic:  oh, am I ruining my life if I don’t go to Chinese class five days a week for 3.5 (really realllly slow) hours?  What if it is the only possible way to learn Chinese? What if my teacher feels bad? etc. etc.  I will spare you.  Luckily I had a few amazing friends who were online while I slept on Tuesday night and I woke to kind words and encouragement that I actually might know what I am doing.

(Cue: “If you don’t know me by now”–me singing it to myself)

NOTE:  The class itself wasn’t bad–I don’t want to discredit the school or the teachers–but the style just was not for me right now.  I am 34, and I don’t want to sit in a high school-esque class for hours every day, begging myself not to look at the clock again.  I just got here and I wanna get out and explore.  I am bad at getting up early to commute.  (blah blah blah–or in Chinese ba la ba la ba la) I do still want to learn Chinese.  There are other ways, and I will find one/some that work.  The class was expensive and I had to decide by the end of this week in order to get a partial refund–hence the dramatic feeling, the good ol’ pressure of a deadline and money.  That is the boring logic of the story, but next is my account of the quietly surreal-feeling morning in which I actually gave notice:

Wake.
Read encouraging emails and also a funny one about a potential fire disaster at a former place of work.  Still feeling quit-ish.  Coffee with Sean.  Oh crap! I am going to be late!!  An overwhelm of cuteness on the elevator ride down–two year olds with tiny umbrellas are really freakin’ cute.  In lobby, realize that when two year olds carry umbrellas cutely, it is probably seriously raining.  Back up–arg!  Back down–grr!  Clip-clip thru the back alley to the metro.  Crowded.  Really crowded.

Skip the escalator, which is packed four-across.  Run down the stairs–the train is filled to the brim, but–luckily–the door is still open.  Prepare to push in and bob on the sea of shoulders.
But wait.
Hmm, I’ve never seen it so full that no one gets on…wow.
Doors close.
Doors open.
OOOhhh.  Something’s wrong.
Packed in like cliched sardines, the passengers look at the wait-ers and we look at them.
Doors close, doors open.
Dang!  This train aint moving.
New round of folks coming down the stairs
“Sweet!” they think, “the doors are still open!”
One by one, they add themselves to the already over-full train.
Doors Close
Doors open.
Packed full, toes all the way to the safety line.
(Someone at some point will tell you the story of the person smooshed by the doors a couple years ago).
How are people even getting in there?
The woman-in-the-doorway-I’ve-exchanged-eye-contact-with I think is trying to appear unfazed, as she gets pushed nearer and nearer to the safety line.
Close, open, one more person, close, open, one more person…
Dude, gotta get out of here!
Up,up, up the stone steps.  Raining still.  But warm.  Instant sweaty damnpness. F.

Turn the corner to get off the main road–turns out Wending lu does go straight thru to school, this will work. I’m gonna be soo late!
Trudge trudge trudge.  A weird feeling.  Walking through the molasses of how badly I don’t wanna go.  “If you don’t know me by now” keeps popping up in my head, mocking me.  Okay maybe I do know what I wanna do?

Near Grand Gateway 66 (fancy mall, of course) stop to check the time and will be almost an hour late to class…..obvious need is to head to Starbucks instead for an overpriced cup of coffee and journal time until the 2nd class.  Write for over an hour, processing, brainstorming, remembering that some fun soul suggested I just join a Chinese kindergarten  ….  Realize second class is in session, so it will be quiet at school.  Walk the rest of the way and…quit. Everyone was friendly–”Come back anytime.”  Leave the building as a drop out with a pile of cash!

(Cue: “Beauty School Dropout” here, but change Beauty to Chinese)

Freedom!  The taichi and kung fu folks practice their usual strange tricks on the athletic field–walking backwards, walking on all fours and whatnot.  A man hitting tennis balls to himself against a wall gives a huge grin.  Practice Chinese several times on the way home, even “conversing” (to exaggerate) with the local newsstand guy about Adele.

This is all so dramatic, that is the downfall of the person new-to-a-place, but I can’t get the train image out of my head, it makes me laugh at the absurdity, (and, admittedly, still a little nervous) and so I thought I’d share it, in case there’s anything fun it it for you.  (Cuz, really, this blog is all about YOU).

The reason I had to get that R&B song in your head is that I kept marveling, as my friends said, “Hey, listen to your gut.”  I was all, “C’mon now, how can it be so hard to know what your gut wants and then actually listen to it?”  And my gut was all, “I don’t know!”  It’s ridiculous how challenging this can be.  Thank goodness for friends to help me out.  Maybe they will help you, too:

“Is it fear or courage and passion that is fueling your decision?”

“Make a list of 3 things you want to do/work on while you’re in China. And then focus your time on those 3 things.  I think you’ll be most fulfilled there if you find a group of people/places/classes/etc. that focuses on something you REALLY REALLY want to learn/do.  I think the creative process is so hard, and it’s so tempting to do other things that are at least measurable and possible to accomplish BUT you’ll be happier in the long run if you devote more time and energy to your creative projects.  I think it’s best to hold out for the thing you really want to do and just trust that you’ll always have great backup options, but only go to those as a backup—after you’ve given yourself the time and space to try doing the things that you’re most passionate about!”

( THANK YOU, FRIENDS!)

So after those sorts of talkings-to, you needed an anthem to boost you on your way.

I recommend MJB da MVP, which I listened to all afternoon.

Thanks for reading.

hugs,
j