Who you gonna call?

*This is the blog that should have appeared before I left for ChengDu, the stories from ChengDu will be appearing with pictures over the next few weeks.*

Being a foreigner in LouYang is a unique experience to be sure. I have already told you many times about the children being excited as can be about meeting an American or another person from another country but really this is understandably. Mom loves to tell the story of Stef meeting a black person for the first time and being captivated by the color of his skin because it was unlike anything she had ever seen. To really express just how strange it is to be white in LouYang I need to tell you some stories that happened to me the week before I left for ChengDu simply because of how I look.

"You can just drink water?"

Nico and I left for lunch on Tuesday eating at the same establishment we usually frequent as it offers the most varied menu (not that we vary what we order a terrible amount) and is close enough to where we are now. The restaurant is on the second floor and this is the first time that I had left my new bicycle outside and out of my sight. I spent half the meal with my neck craning to look out the window to see if anyone was industrious to pick up my bike and run try to dart off with it. This is not a wholly unreasonable fear as this has been known to happen with the brand I bought since the brand I bought has a very good reputation in China.

The meal passed without incident and I honestly couldn't tell you what we ate even if had written this last week. At the end of the meal while we were waiting for the check five Chinese men came over to our table and began eagerly speaking at us. They would have been speaking with us if I could understand them and if my flatmate's Chinese was at a level where he could respond fluidly. They were explaining to us that in China people share a drink to signal that they are both part of the same community, sort of like welcoming us to China. This is also a sign of friendship and done because they find it fun to see white people drink.

When my roommate told them that I don't drink beer the more drunk ones in the group began protesting that I certainly must and the more coherent one's told me that I could just drink water (or tea as it happened to be).

The largest of the five of them kept trying to shake our hands or poor a cup of teas and would up invariably knocking things over every time his hands got anywhere near the table. In the end to thank us for sharing a drink with us they picked up our lunch and walked out with us where I got on my bike and went off to work.

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"Hello English!"

Two days later I would experience the same thing, but without anyone who spoke Chinese to help me.

I was riding my bike home after a long day at work and had made it about a third of the way. There is a stretch of my path that comes along the river which normally has a moist and cool breeze to it which pleasantly reminds me of the sea air which I so seldom took advantage of back home. Tonight in a break from my routine I had not waited for me coworkers to ride with me back home, I don't really need to wait for them but often it is pleasant to have company on the ride which can range from 45 minutes to 25 minutes depending on how energetic I am.

This night as I rode by the river a taxi drove by me. Now this happens frequently every night so I thought nothing of it until a man who can only be described as ox like in girth stuck his head out yelling Hello! I thought nothing of it and waved back shouting "Ni Hao."

The next thing I know the cab had slowed down because of traffic and we repeated this exchange while I passed him. The difference was this time he yelled "Hello English!" I didn't take this opportunity to reflect on the fact that in High School everyone I knew was convinced that I was secretly British, instead I simply thought that this was odd. I thought it was more odd when the person had his cab driver slow down to the speed of my bike to talk to me and even more so when he got out of the cab to walk when I encountered a Red Light.

After he talked with me for a while he asked me to go have a drink with him. I told him in my very broken Chinese that I don't drink and he seemed to understand enough to suggest that we go drink water. Also since he kept saying the Chinese word for friend I was certain that he was not dangerous. When I agreed four more people got out of a second cab and we made our way to a place where we could drink tea, and beer for the others, in a secluded area. Over the next two hours I continued to convince them that I did not drink and was shown some of the Ox man's KungFu. His girth turned out to be entirely muscular and he introduced himself as the Chinese Mike Tyson.

During these two hours I met a few of their friends and ate my first fresh Kiwi straight from peeling it. It was about as fun as you might imagine sitting around a group of 40 year old men who don't speak your language to be, but it was interesting. There was one point in the evening where one of the men's wife was present and so when they asked me I told them that she was very beautiful. The ox man then quickly asked me if he was very handsome and I answered with enough wit to make the other men laugh. First I said I don't know, which they wouldn't let me get away with so I said, "Women, yes I know beautiful, Men I don't know." Ox didn't enjoy this too much but the others thought is was funny. Again they would not let me pay for anything as in many ways it was their honor for meeting me.

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Now my cute story and title story for two weeks ago isn't about my students. This one is actually about my fellow teachers, but I think it deserves the cute story award anyways.

"Who you gonna call?"

As I finished my work day I left straight from the classroom and down a long cooridor to turn into my office. Two of the teachers, Sandy and Cathy (the head teacher) screamed when I opened the door causing me to jump a little as well. No one expects two terrified women to scream when they walk into the room and it doesn't boost your self esteem either...

"Scott! Where were you just now?" Cathy asks brandishing a toy hammer that squeaks like a dog toy it you hit something with it. The hammer is bright pink on the ends and I failed to see how anything neon pink was suppose to intimidate a person, especially if it squeaked.

"I just finished teaching Cecilia's class." I said putting my hands up while noticing that Cathy was brandishing her hammer at me from behind Sandy who was likewise a holding the implement of squeaking.

"What classroom were you in?"

"305 down the hall."

"So you weren't in the next room?" (310)

"No, was I suppose to be?"

"Scott." She said with a scared tremor to her voice now that she trusted me again and she pointed a trembling hand in the direction of room 310. "There's a ghost!"

"A ghost I asked?"

"Yes, go look."

More than willing, and honestly a little hopeful that they were right I went with both Sandy and Cathy hiding behind me with their squeaky hammers held tightly for protection. It took a great deal of self discipline not to laugh at them at the moment but their fear seemed real enough that I decided to respect it until I knew what had scared them... then all bets would be off.

Going to Room 310 I paused while Cathy pointed to the door with her hammer. "Go on." She said while stepping back. I lightly gripped the door expecting it to harmlessly swing all the way open. Instead the door opened partway and stopped with a very physical force opposing it. Now I was intrigued as I tried using a little more force to find that whatever was opposing me could easily match the strength I felt comfortable using without fearing falling into the room when the opposition gave out. "Turn on the light." She told me which I did only to reveal no one in the room at all. Sandy and Cathy both made random frightened noises that would have been cute it they weren't hiding behind me with squeaky weapons.

Looking down through the one sided mirrors in place on the classroom doors for parents to watch their children during class I noticed that the classroom Hula Hoop (does anyone remember these?) had fallen over and was blocking the door. Cathy must have noticed me peering down at the area behind the door.

"What is it?" She asked trembling behind her hammer.

"It is a Hula Hoop." I said collapsing into laughter while I reached around the door and picked up the Hula Hoop to allow us into the room.

Apparently from what of the story I heard through my gasps of laughter Cathy had been leaving the room when the door suddenly slammed behind her and then Sandy had been unable to open the door. All I know is that for the next few days every time I saw them I would point behind them and look scared before I said, "Oh no! The Hula Hoop Ghost is back!" Then I would need to run as they tried to retaliate.

So even though no one said it that week,
Who you gonna call?
Ghost Busters! ... ... ...