Overflow

December 8, 2008

There I am, standing on the bus. Backpack on, heavy winter coat in one hand, gym bag in the other. The weather outside is pleasant and warm, though I know that in a few hours, the mercury will fall. Hence, the coat.

Passengers jostle and gossip as the bus churns around Changsha's busy streets. Screeching to a halt at one stop, dangerously close to the bus in front, a group of young girls next to me explode into laughter. All this angers me. Not just the driver's apparent lack of depth perception, but the way that these things are just accepted as "the norm". This cultural difference, teaches me one thing: The Chinese have adapted different ways of dealing with the stresses of daily life. They laugh.

Each dilemma that could increase blood pressure or stop their heart, is met with a chuckle. Fits of temper and road rage are not the norm, they are the exception. For the most part, laughter has replaced anger. This defense must have been nurtured due to the fact that there is no way around the business, inefficiency and dysfunction of daily life here.

I take a seat, turn on my Ipod, and watch the world go by. On my way to the train station (where I will transfer to another bus to get to my friend's apartment), I have two thoughts:

One, this ride, is like so many I have had. Alone, full of my thoughts, watching the streets, worrying about my Chinese ability, suspiciously content. I hurriedly try to maximize time, scribbling notes, texting contacts, making a "to-do" list. I must be such an enigma to the old man next to me, as I peel a banana and drop the skin out the window during one of our stops. It isn't as if the latter is shocking. It is just that I look so rushed compared to him. With all that is going on in my life, I have little time to waste, and so I must use every amount of time I have, whether on the bus or waiting for one, on trying to improve one facet of myself, or juggle my relationship and career on two continents. I have found no way around it. It is just the way it is.

At the train station, I approach a driver of a bus I am unfamiliar with. "Xiaoyaun gongyuan, dao bu dao?" I ask, wondering if the bus stops where I need to go. I am met with the recyclable answer: "Ting bu dong" or "I don't understand you" and a laugh. How can this be? Even when I say the words correctly, my accent and pronunciation are so far off that they cannot understand me. Only with students or those that speak English themselves, is my pronunciation less suspect.

On the next bus, a seat next to the window. "Waiguoren (foreigner)" I hear, a girl in the back yell to her friend in the front. Both glance at me and exchange laughs and what figure to be jokes at my expense. In most cases, I would have spoken up, telling them, "Ni bu shou Waiguoren. Waiguoren bu hao. Wo shi Meiguoren (Don't say 'foreigner'. 'Foreigner' is not good. I am American."). If anything, this lets them know that just because I am not Chinese, it does not mean I cannot understand at least some words they say in their native tongue.

This continual cultural difference has been hard for me to get over. To put it in context, could you imagine an American constantly shouting a similar epithet each time they saw someone who "did not fit the norm". "Look honey, look at that German tourist!" Actually, "yes", many of us can, but at the very least the vast majority of Americans would not call out a tourist every time they see one. I realize that Changsha, and indeed many people and parts of China are still opening up to the rest of the world, but I cannot shake the feeling of being called, what I perceive to be, such a negative term.

The second thing this bus ride has made me realize is just out of place my emotions, professional capability and communication have been this whole year. At times, to say I have been on an emotional roller-coaster would not even do it justice. Other times, I am completely content. It is a tidal phenomenon. Currently, I am experiencing devotion and ambition towards my career. Whereas, just a few weeks ago, all I could think about was making Chinese friends.

In terms of professional connections, I have found that because their is a lack of cohesiveness with the school (I feel that I am a novelty, not a staff member), I often feel isolated, and left out of "the know". Some of this is due to the fact, that things work differently here, but though I am improving relationships with Chinese colleagues, I regret not having put more emphasis on it in the beginning.

Communication-wise, I often find myself speaking in a dumb-downed version of English to Chinese acquaintances. For example, instead of saying "vast", I would say "really, really big". I do this for their benefit, but is has had detrimental effects on my ability to sound eloquent when I speak to others. I have also noticed, that in hindsight, many of the battles I have had here, have not been with my school, locals or Chinese students, but Americans.

In fact, I can trace some of the most stressful situations here to acts by Americans, namely other volunteers. It is difficult to work at a school with other foreign teachers for this very reason. I realize now, that I should not waste time on collaboration with the other foreign teachers at my school (see the next blog about conflict style) and should have instead been more assertive with my communication from the beginning. All of this could seem irrelevant or boring, and it is hard to convey in words.

The bottom line here is this: Some Americans have the ability to turn anything into an ugly situation when they are out of their comfort zone. It is not their fault, it is just that because we have been born and raised in the epitome of functionality and efficiency, we come to expect things. Customer service related things, business related aspects, consumer related aspects, the list could go on. I, personally feel that I am able to cut through that, not "expect" anything and just go with what comes my way. However, others cannot and when you work with them, it can prove to be a very bumpy ride.

It is also difficult being an older volunteer. At 28, I have little interest in what 22, 23 and 24 year olds want from this experience. I know what I want, that is all that matters. For anyone thinking of doing a volunteer project abroad, you should really consider what it will be like for you with other Americans around. For me, I have found that I have spent (hopefully not wasted) a lot of energy and thought on what other volunteers do with their time. I have traced this to my curiosity in human relations and social interaction. In the end, I believe that that part of the experience will prove to be just as beneficial. That is, understanding how many Americans function on the international scene. However, all I can say is, for those volunteers wasting time in Americanized stores, coffee shops, with other volunteers and with other expats, have fun. I did not want that experience, and I have not had it for the most part. I have chosen to distance myself from that, though it comes at a price. People tend to see you as abrasive, but I know what I want and that is what matters.

Speaking of what I want, it is this: To learn as much of the Chinese language as possible; to make Chinese friends, people that I will stay in contact with after I leave; to travel throughout the country and see an diverse mix of city, rural, poor, rich and ethnic life. For the most part, I am keeping on that track.

So, today has been very productive for me. Full of the usual. I am comfortable with where I am at, and I am more motivated than ever to get where I want to be. I feel that I am for the first time here, becoming my own person, whereas for the past four months, I have juggled so much, experienced so much and been tested so much. See, there goes that lack of eloquence again.