Tang Fang Fang

A young, 18 year old Chinese girl committed suicide last night. She was a Freshman English major and not yet one of my students, but I saw her occasionally at English Corner and whenever I passed by her classroom, yet I can’t pretend to have known her. Her name was Tang Fang Fang. She was fairly short, thin, had a round, blemish free, bright face, black hair, and was always wearing her highly visible black-rimmed Harry Potter glasses. Whenever I saw her, she never failed to sport a smile and always greeted me with an enthusiastic, “Hello Brian!” She jumped from the 8^th floor of the freshman dormitory and landed on the road in front of the school’s bakery at 10:30 last night. I wish I had known what that smile was hiding.

What was she thinking as she put her foot up on that window ledge? Was she scared, nervous, mad, relieved, or anxious? In her three-second fall to the ground, did she wish to undue what gravity could not prevent, feel clarity, or feel nothing at all?

In my own class this morning, I tried talking to my students about the death that happened only 12 hours earlier. Yet, it was as if nothing had happened at all. My students were laughing and joking around, as if it were just another day, which I suppose, it was. I asked them if they knew what happened, “Yes”, I also asked them if they knew the girl, “Yes”, they replied with apparent frustration. The attention of the classroom was all over the place, people laughing and talking in Chinese on one side of the room, students laying down their heads in boredom on the other, with only a few students putting on an air of concern. What did this all mean to them? Anything? Nervous laughter rained supreme throughout the morning. Throughout the class I tried to discuss life, suicide, depression, and their meanings and causes, but this brought us nowhere. One life had simply ended and the world kept turning, without missing a beat, in the same manner as it had before.

What message was she trying to send us? Or was she simply upset because she constantly quarreled with the other girls in her dorm room and didn’t get along with her class, as the rumor tells it? One minute to pause and reflect upon life and it’s meaning would do everyone a little good here, but I have yet to see that. “What’s the point?” I asked my class, “What’s the point of it all?” but everyone seemed to regard this question with the same indifference that they have greeted everything else in the class.

Hopefully, there is more then this pathetic blog post, her parents and relatives, and some friends that will stop to reflect what the meaning of her death was, if it was anything. But maybe that’s hoping for too much.

Glory Days

After the Halloween party I had with my students, there was a party at Nick's house (new PCV). I dressed up as a Chinese Muslim selling BBQ (they are everywhere), Lindsey was a chicken foot (a snack eaten by all the Chinese), Amanda was a cat, Nick had a ripped shirt strewn with red marker, and Gregory constructed a mask out of tinfoil. I'm just pretty sure that my Mom is happy I didn't dress up like a woman again.

The next weekend we had planned on traveling to Liijang, a town I have already been to twice, but it's a great little weekend getaway and the new volunteers in town had yet to go there. But, it just so happened that my school's sports meeting was on the same weekend.

All across China, every school, middle schools and high schools alike have a sports meeting that usually takes place in the fall, over a long weekend. The sports meeting is basically a school wide track meet in which anyone can participate if they sign up. This is what I love and hate about the sports meeting. I do enjoy watching track meets, and it's great to sit back and watch some of the events. That last 100 meters of the 400, or the precision of a hand off during the 4X100 are two of my favorites. Yet, the 11th heat of 5 girls all wearing jeans and awkwardly tripping over hurdles gets a little tiring. Why the hurdles girls? Did you know what they were? Oh, and then there's the dramatic dive through the finish into the open arms of a friend and subsequent passing out after jogging 200 meters. But, all of this does add to the allure of the sports meeting.

So, we had to postpone our Lijiang trip so I could defend my 100M dash title from the previous year, and watch kids in loafers and jeans trip over hurdles. I was running on the second day. I had signed up for the 100, 4X100, and 10X80. There was an open 400...but I didn't feel like embarrassing myself. When the day of the race came I was a little anxious. I wasn't as nervous as last year because I knew what to expect, but I still had some butterflies. I warmed up for awhile but never really felt as loose or ready as I wanted. When it was our turn, I made my way over to the 4th lane, got down when I heard the starter yell something in Chinese, and started moving when I heard the gun. I had a really bad start, it felt like I was 50. But, about half-way down the track I had caught two people and was going for the guy in first when we ran out of meters. Well, second's not so bad. After that race, there was the 4X100, which I was really pumped up for. I felt awesome, just like I was back in Manley Field house or at some big invitational. I was the anchor and the guy who had beaten me in the 100 was as well. Our team started off great and I watched every leg before me hold our lead. I received the baton in first with a 10 meter head start and never heard anyone. I wished the other teams were a little closer, but it felt good to really kick ass. The last event was the 10X80, a truly strange race. There are poles on both ends of the grandstand straight away and five team members at each side. When the race starts, people run back and forth to deliver the baton to the next person. The whole time you never know who's in first because there are so many damn people, but it's pretty hysterical to watch. Our team also won this race after holding the lead the whole time. It helps that my department at the school is somehow affiliated with the Physical Education department.

Overall, it was a great weekend. It sure made me miss my track days, but Lindsey and I trading race stories as we timed splits and running a few races, helped bring it all back. I can remember rolling my eyes when Dad used to talk about St. Agnes and how Charlie and him would go into the city every day after school to play street ball, or the way that his team was ranked nationally and how some of his buddies went on to play pro in Europe or coach at the college level. I just never thought I'd be bringing up my stories already. Glory Days! Baa Baa Baaaa Baa!

Justification...and Halloween!

Well, first off, my Mom asked me after reading the last post what all the complaining was about. What's my problem with China? I've complained a few times in posts, but I guess I keep a lot of the complaining here in China with Lindsey and the rest of the Peace Corp crew. Lindsey tends to tell people more of the problems she has faced here and the fact that her family has visited China lets them understand a lot more about this crazy place. Yet, after my Mom asked me why I was complaining...I had to sit back and ask myself the same thing..."What was my problem?" Is it just me? So, here is a little something that I wrote to try and explain China, my problems, and my disillusionment:

I didn'’t come to China to help people. My humanitarian beliefs are not what brought me to this place or into the Peace Corps. The reasons I joined the Peace Corps and then came to China were for the most part, selfish. The thing I wanted most was a departure, a new outlook, something beautiful, simple, and it seemed that that 'thing', that '‘something'’ is sold to us, as shown in the literature, or has somehow through the years morphed into the concept of: The Peace Corps Experience. I did want to live in a mudhut. I did want to eat bugs. I wanted to be cold in the winter and hot in the summer. More than anything, I wanted passion. I wanted it to be real.

China is a place that is passionless. It is a country whose college students favorite past-times are watching Qing Dynasty era soap operas, playing video games, and sleeping. Asking my students what they love, what they like to do, and knowing, before asking any of these questions what answers I will get, is painful. Do any of you like to read for fun? Do any of you like to paint? Do you like to write? Do any of you hate television? No.

The real question is this: What is it about this country that makes people feel like their souls are being stolen? Lindsey sees China as a place that is home to a population with no beliefs bigger then themselves, with no aspirations other then hedonism and monetary wealth. While the outside world may see China as a Buddhist country, anyone living here knows that this label is liberally applied with no meaning attached, just as fair-weather (Christmas-Easter) Catholics are not influenced by their label. While I feel this lack of a faith plays a role in defining China, I think the most basic problem is the sheer lack of beauty, or any appreciation of it.

If you spend the least amount of money as brashly as possible for construction projects, they look like it. If you allocate minimal funds for the maintenance of recently finished public works, they start to degrade. This is China'’s story, a story that is unfolding more and more rapidly as industrialization and modernization spread to every city, town, and hamlet across the country. The old is quickly tossed away in place of the new and everything is seen as better for it. China is moving forward quickly, but it's doing so without any reflection of the reasons for it's development. While China is a 'real' place, something I mentioned wanting during my experience in the Peace Corp, it is a place that takes no time to think and reflect upon itself and what it's doing, or the rest of the world. It takes no time to question, and therefore, has no time to see what its deficiences, needs, and loves are.

To counter all the negativity, I would just like to list some of the things that I love about China: I love the fact that I can buy fresh vegetables and fruit, merely a minutes walk from my house. I love how the elementary school children yell "hello" to me on their way to class, and then awkwardly think over what else they could possibly say. I love a lot of my students. I love the fact that I, and most everyone else in China never flinches when the power goes out, and stays out all day. I love walking and taking the bus everywhere. I love long train rides through a countryside that still seems timeless amid the roaring industrialization. I love how the eye's on the old women who picks through the garbage light up, as if it were Christmas morning when I give her a couple of bottles. I love peanut milk, soymilk, and these big round cookies that taste just like animal crackers for only $.20 a package. I love Chinese BBQ and these little oranges that you can peel in seconds. I love working 16 hours a week and using all that extra time to complain about it. There are things that I love here, a lot of them I guess, but it sure is easier to dwell on the bad. Oh, but I still hate the beer.

In closing, I threw a Halloween party for one of my classes on Halloween night. There was no power so the whole classroom was full of candles, which was awesome. A lot of the students dressed up, we bobbed for apples, I gave them candy corn, and I think that everyone had a pretty good time. I love Halloween back in the States and it actually felt like I was able to celebrate one of my favorite holidays here in China. I dressed up as Lindsey in a typical last second dash, and Lindsey donned my hat and went as me.