Oh, Jaime...

Yesterday was supposed to be an ordinary day. That didn't end up happening because I awoke to find an email in my inbox. Now, please  be aware that I receive emails every day, however I received one from 风中烟云. I am well aware that hardly anyone I know is literate in Chinese, to many these look like just a bunch of "Chinese stuff". I learned very quickly that these Chinese characters are the name of one of my most beloved students, Jaime. 

Growing up I was never a fan of "teachers pet" or having favorites in a classroom (even though on several occasions I was one of them ;)) . However, this summer having a classroom of my own, I realized that it is nearly impossible to not have a favorite or two... or five. There are just particular students that you are naturally drawn to as an educator. Jaime was most definitely a favorite. Perhaps I'll take a blog post to dedicate towards each one of my faves from this summer. The world should know their story. Jaime is something special.

Jaime, Jaime, Jaime, where to even begin. Jaime is a poor farm boy. His parents are farmers in a small town outside the small city to LongDe. He lives at LongDe #1 Middle School and takes the bus home on weekends. He lives away from his family and is the oldest of two. (The one-child rule is not as strongly in effect in the countryside of China. The term 'countryside' would be an understatement in describing where we were). Because Jaime lives at the school we had the occasion to eat lunch with him and a few other students who stayed at the schools cafeteria for lunch. He was always eating rice, his nose always dripping because of its ridiculous spice. He would tell me his dreams of becoming a soldier for his country when he grows up. He would look me in the eyes and say "I want to be a man of honest." 

Oh, Jaime's eyes. Our team would have nicknames for various students as we discussed them every other hour of the day. We would refer to Jaime as "Jaime with the sparkling eyes". Not that there was another Jaime to distinguish him from, but Jaime's eyes just sparkled in this way...it would be a disgrace to not credit them in his title. I would get lost in Jaime's eyes (not that I sat there and stared at him all day) but he was one of very few male students who would actually look me in the eye, as I was A.) a female, and B.) a teacher in a higher status than them. Jaime had a tender spirit, he was quiet and not attention seeking, yet he was a leader, and I could see it in my classroom. He was nearly always the first one done with any assignment, and his puppy eyes would follow me around the room as I checked his classmates work. When I would arrive at his desk, he would gleam and hand me his work, so proud to show me what he had done. Although there were plenty of mistakes, he was most often correct or had the general gist of what was correct.

Jaime, like all the other boys, had a love for anything sports, and a knack for messin' around, the same way teenage boys do here in America. Our final day, us teachers wanted to celebrate so we brought three cakes to our final day of class. It is Chinese custom not to eat the cake, but to wear it. As teachers, we weren't thinking ahead and 5 of us verses 80 students turned out to be...messy. In my pursuit of my students, I was blindsided by a handful of frosting in the face by non other than, Jaime. He was so proud that he was able to get me and made faces at me the rest of the day, the same way a younger brother would tease an older sister.

One of our class projects was to make a banner of all the things that we had learned during English Camp. The kids were instructed to use one piece of paper, and only use one side so we could turn it into a collage. How many sheets did Jaime use? Two. Did he write on both sides? Yes. Did he stay on task? No. But at the end of the day, he approaced me, a beaming smile and sparkling eyes "Miss Kayla, I make this for you." Two pieces of construction paper were loosely taped together. On one side, two hearts overlapping, like a venn diagram. One labeled, China, the other, USA. Written below, "I learn English, I learn how to appreciate another culture." On the back, a letter addressed specifically to me:

"Dear Miss Kayla,

I'm very happy to attend summer camp and I'm very happy to meet you! To be honest. 

You are a great teacher. I'm proud of you! especially your personality. Although. the time is not long. 

Also, you are friendly to us. from you careful teach. i learned many. 
I realized multiculture all over the world. 

and i learned many English skills that how to study English.

I think you will be leave us in the days but I'll never forget the time that we get along with. 

and I hope you can give you email for me we can talk each other in the future.

That's all. Thank you!

-Jaime"

This was one of the 'smile moments' we teachers shared in our office. Everyday after class we as a group would take about a half hour to gloat about our students and share the hilarious and heartwarming things that occurred in our classrooms. Jaime would continually tell me how proud he was of me. I don't think it quite sunk in that I was the one who was so proud of him.

One of our last days we had some free time in the building. I walked into the classroom to find Jaime and some fellow boys having fun on the chalkboard, writing Chinese characters. Upon requesting that I possibly learn one or two the boys immediately flocked to my learning aid.  We were having fun "you very quick, very good", and they very much were enjoying the chance to 'teach teacher.' One boy (not a student of mine) then asked what my Chinese name was. I informed them that I had no Chinese name. At this, their eyes bulged and they immidiately begain babbling in Chinese, fingers pointing at different parts of me, fits of laughter, head nods and drawings on the chalkboard. I said "Jaime, what is going on?" "We give you name. We want it to be for you." They progressed to give me the name kang ni  (康女). Kang means health, and ni is a common name given to a girl. "Health, for your energy and personality that is special," said Jaime.

Our final afternoon at LongDe #1 involved a lot of tears, a lot of hugs, and an hour long photoshoot with all the officials and half of the city. In the craziness of the paparazzi, gathering our things and exchange of gifts (note--gifts are HUGE in China) I lost the opportunity to say a final goodbye to some of my students. As we walked the long way back to our hotel, I silently noted to myself that Jaime was one of these students. It became something I was silently torn up about as we ate a final dinner with the school officials. Several courses, dice games, and cigarettes later, the school officials decided that we were tired and had to head back to our hotel (yes, I said that right--its the way things work in China, ask me about it sometime). Us teachers, walking down the street were taking in all of the maddness and beauty that was around us. We talked about how we didnt want to leave, our highlights of the day and whatnot. We were interrupted by a distant "Miss Kayla...". It came from accross the street. It was dark outside, anyone could have said it. I stopped to turn, and who was running towards me but Jaime. Through all the moments in China, this was one of my biggest God-moments.  He was allowing me to say my final goodbye. Jaime and I hugged on the street. And we said our goodbye. And we both walked away with misty, sparkling eyes.

I don't know why I fell so in love with Jaime, but I hope to keep his memory and spirit alive in who I am, in the stories I share. I have no doubt that he will grow up to be an honest man.

-康女

where are you christmas...

Have you ever been stuck in a thought? Stuck in a mindset that continues to remind you every other minute of a particular thing or concept? I think that it is safe to say that this has happened to most people, the human mind is a complexity that I can merely pretend to know about. It's one of those things that we'll never know every detail about, and therefore 'tis fun to simply imagine truths about it, just because no one can really prove them wrong.

Perhaps it is six months later that I am debriefing my China experience. Perhaps it is six months later that I am actually allowing it to change me the way that I know it has. I am a native of Rochester, New York. Yes, quite the snow country. Home of many people, home of Kodak, Susan B. Anthony, and the more modern day famous tidbit we take ownership for is the eastern coast phenomenon, "Wegmans." Now, if you have never been to a Wegmans allow me to inform you. It is a grocery store on crack. I grew up with Wegmans, it has always been down the street since I can remember. Little did I know that so many others did not live the life of which I took for granted.

When I arrived at college all the talk was of the newly opened Wegmans a few towns over. Luckily for me, it wasn't too far to get a taste of home. It was at one point during my sophomore year (oh my, 2 years ago) that I went to church alone. Being the introvert that I am and my peculiar means of entertainment, I decided to just take a drive after church. A nice Sunday drive, that's what they did decades ago. Of course I ended up getting myself lost at various points, yet I was always able to find a familiar road. Well, before I decided to call it quits I happened to drive past the newly built Wegmans. I decided to stop in and was unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. I stood in line at the sub shop (ps-sidenote- a sub from Wegmans will change your life, you'll despise every Subway you look at for the mere shame it brings itself). At this sub shop I was invisibly struck with memories of myself and my family, much much younger squeezing and screaming, driving the woman behind the counter mad as we tried to order 5 subs at once. We had to order fast so that we could make it home in time for the Steelers game...that may or may not have been on TV due to the 3 channels we received, and for Rochester's proximity to the Buffalo Bills...nonetheless it was always a gamble whether or not we would actually get to watch the Steelers, but it still was a thrill every week.

While standing in line I was moved to tears. And for some odd reason I pulled out my phone and called my dad. I stepped out of line for fear of causing a scene. People in line would think that I had a severe reaction to the horseradish. My dad, always ecstatic to answer the phone joined in my emotion as I just stood before the sub shop, hustle and bustle around me, but in my own little world.

I recant this because today I had a similar experience in Wegmans. A similar experience in that I was experiencing memories and moved to tears. I was thinking of the orange lady on the corner in China, who we would buy our oranges and apples from. Only twice. Our ice cream lady, whom we would visit every day after school, and reward our teaching with Chinese ice cream, one kuai apiece. She was floored that foreigners would purchase her ice cream. Language barrier, yes, but we were able to connect with this woman, and we were ever so grateful for her ice cream...and such a variety!

Today, I was moved to tears because I was tormented. I was so overwhelmed with the hustle and bustle of this holiday season, seeing mountains upon mountains of tomatoes, lettuce, pineapples, and so many isles of box, after can, after package of stuff that will be thrown away. So that we for a day can stuff our faces a little bit more than usual and praise God for how blessed we are. I was thinking about how excited a starving child would be to have just one of the bagels that was sitting in the basket, or just one of the cheesesticks in the package of 24. I was so overwhelmed with how much consumption was going on around me I began to get dizzy and see stars. And then my eyes got hot, and my face became wet. This is what happens when thoughts recount over and over inside your mind. The question I ask myself is, 'what am I going to do about it?'

So I ask and challenge you this holiday season to think of our festivities a little bit differently. To a homeless child, Christmas is just another day to survive, another day to find food. There's nothing special about it. To me, knowing that someone out there must feel and experience that, makes me feel and experience that too.

"We have enough for everyone's need, but never enough for everyone's greed."--Gandhi


Team LongDe 1 with our "Ice Cream Lady".

China or Genetics

Every day, we are bombarded with questions. We are bombarded with information. People like me tend to replay these questions over and over again internally, searching for an answer that is ambiguous. Of course, I know that I will never reach the answer, but that doesn't stop me from trying. We live in a society of "try everything", "do everything" and "be successful". But replaying these questions is more than just about finding answers to have an answer. It's about finding an answer that will help me discover who I am created to be, and by Whom I was created by.

This past summer I had a life changing experience in the poverty stricken city of LongDe, China. I taught English to a classroom of 20 high school aged Chinese students, none of whom had ever met a white person before in their life. As a team, we taught them songs, games, and childhood, as childhood is stripped away in Chinese society by the ever-pressing rigorous academics of the College Entrance Exam. Upon arriving we were talked to about the importance of these exams, and how students would be receiving their scores within the next few days. The suicide rate would be dramatically increasing while we were there. I envisioned in my head hundreds, thousands of Chinese students, years younger than I, taking their own life because of a score. Because a score deemed them not good enough for success. Because of the shame a score can bring to them, and their families.

At first it was easy to compartmentalize. What happened on that side of the world can stay on that side of the world, but that experience changed me, and that could not be contained for long. My issue was getting it out, having an outlet, having people around me who were willing to simply listen. Processing never happened, and people never came. But who I am still lives inside and is still forever changed, forever consumed with a love, passion, and concern for the hurting, the innocent, and the helpless.

I find coming back to this webpage which I have ignored for months completely spiritually hilarious in some regards. I say this because it's kind of like a prophesy as to what this summer has taught me and to who I am growing to be. Yes, I do indeed love people very much, and through months and months of difficulty, spiritual wrestling, questioning, and personal doubts and fights, lots has truely come together. The path that I walk is truely straight and narrow. I believe that as followers of Chirst, we are all called to this path. A very few take it, and that saddens me. We've lost the picture, the vision of what it means to be like Christ, and instead we fill our lives with traditions and acts, and half-hearted prayers that disillusion us into being followers of Christ. To truely love the poor, we must know the poor. We must attempt for some type of understanding and community that is beyond putting money in a basket. China is heavy on my heart.

So I ask, is family made up of who you are genetically related to, or those who share your heart? In China, I felt closer to many than I have ever felt before, even though I have spent years of life with those whom I call 'family'. Oh China, what am I to do with you?



Where do I belong? Where do I belong? Where do I belong? Where do I belong?