CHINA—GROVES, 2008

In the afternoon, with her parents still at work, Claire and I went for a walk in her neighborhood. We walked through the local grocery store so I could see what was available. On multi-levels, the store had many selections of foods and also a pharmacy and clothes.

Our walk took us through a neighborhood park where there was a performance advertising the Olympics of 2008. Many families participated in activities, such as exercise machines, music, Tai Chi, or enjoying the live entertainment.

In another park, Claire showed me older men playing their version of Chinese checkers, as they loudly slapped their checkers to the board. Her grandfather brought her to this park as a child, and while she played with her friends, he played checkers with his buddies.

Dad worked into the evening, and when he arrived home, he served us tea, a new hobby of his. I took his picture; the next day I told him how fascinated I was with the ritual and wished I had videotaped him-- whereupon he said he was taking me to see a professional do it that afternoon!

Dad fretted about the comprehensiveness of our Fulbright activities, wanting to show me something not on our Fulbright-Hays itinerary. By the next morning, they had decided on the arboretum, much to my delight.

The arboretum was attractive, but it was not the season for its full glory. As we walked, I asked Claire’s plans for the future. She would spend the next few months studying for exams, hoping for high scores to enable her to enter college. Her parents had given her every advantage expecting her to do well. She was intent on doing her absolute best.

She shrugged off thoughts of boys and dating, saying boys were just friends. I asked her intentions for a family in the future. She said most young people would not marry until 25 or 26 or older, so she wasn’t thinking much about it for now. Her education came first, because it would give her opportunities and choices. She wasn’t sure yet what her career choice would be.

As we returned to the parking lot of the arboretum, we saw some nice cars, and I learned that numbers have special meanings in China. As we passed a license plate with several 6s, I was told with a chuckle that someone had paid big bucks to get that number!

Lunch was an adventure with fanfare-- at the site of a former Emperor’s brother’s home. Staff in costume greeted us, assisted with parking the car at the front entrance, and catered to our every need. Dad ordered the dishes for us all –and Mom smilingly made sure I had a fork and knife in addition to chopsticks (she had seen my ungraceful fumbling the day before!). Dad had been here for meetings, but it was a new experience for Mom and Claire, and the three of us enjoyed a tour of the grounds.

True to Dad’s word, the family took me for a private tea prepared by a professional at the government hotel tea room beside their place of employment. It was elegantly done. I was told the government had gone into the countryside and selected some young women to be trained for 3 years. The young woman who served us was paying back to the government 100 yuan per month (equivalent to 12.50 USD). I wonder how long it will take her to repay her debt.

Now to JOCELYN. Claire had selected her own English name, but Jocelyn’s was assigned to her by Kevin Stuart, her teacher in the English Training Department of the School of Minority Nationalities, Qinghai Normal University. Kevin ran down the social security listings to find the many names he gave the students. That explained the variety of names, such as "Sylvester" and "Caleb."

Kevin’s students were chosen from countryside schools based on exam scores and interviews. They were top-ranked students from Tibetan territory-- currently denied as Tibet by the Chinese government. Reference to Tibet and the Dalai Lama was considered so sensitive at the time of our visit that we were repeatedly cautioned.

In a conversation with 4 young men, I asked if there was danger for them if they spoke openly against the government. They said yes. I asked what would happen. They said people would just disappear and never be heard from again. I asked if they knew anyone to whom that had happened. They all seriously nodded yes.

Within two years of entry into college, Kevin had students in the English Program --who came speaking only Tibet-- able to converse readily in Mandarin and English. His methodology was to teach how to write grant proposals, market their proposed projects, and do all the presentations/communications in English. The students felt ownership in their projects and worked diligently to learn.

…..

Back to Jocelyn, who at 19 was grateful for what education could bring her. It was her pathway to choices. She was anticipating going back to the villages of the Province to teach. But her joy was in knowing she could earn the right to make decisions for her own life. This meant she could escape the nomad life and choose her own husband. In the Tibet region, her husband would be selected by the two sets of parents, and the couple would not meet until on their wedding day. Then the wife would join the husband’s family.

Jocelyn’s family was affluent by nomad standards. They had 2,000 yak and milked 70 of them twice a day, requiring 4 hours of work each milking. The milk was used for yak butter and cheese. For six months of the year during the summer the family roams with the yak to find vegetation for grazing.. During this time, they live in a tent-- her Mom, Dad, brother, his wife, their 3-year-old, and a servant boy and girl who help with the milking and herding of the yak. During the winter, they return to a brick house for shelter and warmth. Yak hides are blankets there, but are not considered acceptable in university student housing. Kevin Stuart is attempting to raise scholarship funds to provide Tibetan students with basic linens.

Kevin invited 5 students to accompany our Fulbright-Hays group in our tour of the rural countryside to serve as interpreters with our Tibetan host families.

When we arrived in Tongren, our first stop was the village festival after we were met by Gregory, a community resident of great power. He was a dapper figure on his motorcycle, often accompanied by his two small nephews. He led us to the festival and negotiated our entrance by gifts of fine silk.

We saw the ritual of what once was a live animal sacrifice, then a dead animal sacrifice, and today a burning of greenery, silk, and incense. Village dancers performed around a circular pillar ablaze. Yak butter sculptures were on display, and the villagers enjoyed many side conversations.

A supposedly gifted individual, called the trans-medium, danced. Then he honored approximately 15 young men who were selected to be pierced through the cheeks by long needles by him and to have a knife cut on the top of their heads. Supposedly, the more bleeding that occurred, the happier were the gods. The young men immediately donned red hats and danced in the courtyard for the villagers to see. Jocelyn tells me her village does not do this—that every village has its own festival.

On our way to the village homes, we stopped to see a Buddhist temple—and a library with hand-written script.

Amy and I were accompanied by Jocelyn to the home of our host family. Mom and Jocelyn chatted comfortably in their native Tibet language, and Jocelyn translated. We were served hot tea and a freshly baked skillet bread. And we were taught to make our own "sambe," a constant in the Tibet diet. In a small bowl were placed yak butter, a bit of sugar, a ground flour, and hot water. I kneaded it by hand and formed it into a ball. The idea was that the sambe (som-bay) was held in one hand for nibbling alternately with drinking the tea.

Then it was time to walk back down the hill to join our colleagues for dinner, in spite of our hostess’ insistence that she prepare our food. We agreed to learn Tibetan dancing upon our return.

Girls in the neighborhood gathered in the courtyard for the dancing to Tibetan music. For over two hours we followed their lead with them simplifying some of the moves for us. Dancing reduced the language barrier. Even Dad joined us for a bit.

The simple home of our host family of Mom, Dad, little boy, and a girl about 8 years of age who slipped in and out, sleeping overnight with some neighbors. A courtyard was surrounded on 3 sides with rooms. The solar cooker heated water in a kettle set atop a rod. A wash basin contained water in which we all washed our hands. And off the corner of the courtyard was a small brick wall that half served for outdoor toilet privacy. At one of our sessions, a monk stated, "Well, it’s a dirty business—what’s the fuss?"

Amy, Jocelyn, and I slept 3 on a Khang, which is a multi-person bed covered with pads. We laughed uncontrollably when Mom busily tucked us all in and smilingly patted our heads. Jocelyn later commented that laughter was good.

Jocelyn arose early to help our hostess make a hot breakfast that included the usual vegetables and meat along with hot bread. The spiciness made it necessary for both Amy and me to eat small portions, which I know bothered Jocelyn.

We gave them small gifts and went down the hill to join our colleagues. Our hostess accompanied us all the way, truly treating us as treasured guests until the very end. Our walking pathway to the bus took us past a long row of prayer wheels, which somehow seemed appropriate.

Our bus ride that day was through the rugged mountains countryside, accentuated by a gas leak on the bus necessitating the services of those in a small village-- who gave their full attention to this group of strangers. We arrived late at a bridge crossing the Yellow River. We were stopped on the bridge and exited the bus for a welcoming ceremony of speeches and white silk scarves for all.

Following a bus drive through town, we saw the huge hydroelectric facility, billed as the largest or 2^nd largest in the world—that provided much power for the coastal region many miles away. From there, we visited a modest country school where children in blue and white uniforms lined our welcoming pathway. The school was a project of our handsome host, the Mayor of the City, who had also been a student of Kevin Stuart’s and then received part of his education in the States.

After the school tour, we returned to the village where we were paraded down the main street, heralded by fire crackers and marchers with symbolic masks. We were taken to the courtyard home of a rich village elder where a big feast ensued. The drinking ritual was offered individually to each person in our entourage by a young woman beautifully costumed and assisted by others for refills. This ritual involves dipping the 3^rd finger of the right hand into the right cup of 3 containing a strong alcoholic beverage and flicking it over the right shoulder 3 times followed by drinking each of the 3 cups of alcohol. This ritual was offered many times; thankfully we had been taught that it was polite to go through the motions without drinking if we preferred. This was very helpful after the first round!

The rain was pouring down, and it was almost midnight as we left the festivities. We were to have stayed in homes again, but the lateness and an early-morning bus departure for our date at the Xining airport necessitated a short night’s sleep at a local, modest hotel.

Mayor Ju and his wife arrived to see us off the next morning. At the airport we said goodbye to our student interpreters. They were returning to their school and then departing to their homes for some hard study in preparation for the next exams that would determine if they could continue their schooling. Sylvester said he would be traveling five days to connect with his family-- by train, bus, and tractor. Such is the life of a nomadic boy (his self-descriptive term).

To this day, I wonder about the conversations between Jocelyn and her classmates after all the home stay experiences. I know for certain, our host family was the most congenial and tried the hardest to provide us a good learning experience. And so they did.

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Claire and Jocelyn reflect the contrast of urban and rural China--and new life opportunities for some Chinese women through education.

The world will be watching as the Olympics 2008 place China center stage. Mostly we will see the urban, modern eastern coast. There is another China further west we should not ignore or forget.