The Great Wall of China (Huanghuacheng)

Today, after some delay and a not so cheeky bus driver, I set out with a great crew of friends to Huanghuacheng - a section of the Great Wall. 

The Great Wall is divided into several tourist accesible sections. 

This particular area was an hour and a half bus ride out of Beijing. Boy! Was it worth it! 

Today was the most beautifully perfect day. This is not an exaggeration, either.

For the past two days it was raining buckets in Beijing. Waking up to sunshine and 70-degree temperatures was a beautiful thing as 15 foreigners loaded onto a coach bus set out for The Great Wall. 

I managed to catch a nice sun tan that I was in desperate need of. 

We set off to hike toward the water. We stopped for a rest t the top of the first guard station we encountered. This was the peak point of this particular strip of the wall. We posed for pictures and enjoyed the beautiful fresh air we never receive in Beijing and had a many dance party as well. 

The day was just beginning and it was pure bliss. 

Being afraid of heights slipped my mind at this point in the day because I was so overwhelmed with the beauty of my surroundings. The emerald green mountains that went on endlessly in the background giving no signs of a civilized world beyond. The miles and miles of the hilly Great Wall and all of it’s ancient history and wonder. The waters flowing down below. The perfectly blue, clear sky that held the brightly shining sun and fluffy white clouds. 

We walked down from the guard post toward the water to find a spot to picnic.

One of my favorite shots from the top of the guard tower.

View from the guard tower.

We had a smorgasbord picnic sitting on a part of the wall closed to the public alongside a lake looking out to the mountains. The mountains were incredibly beautiful and the only section of them that wasn’t emerald green was where the off-white color of the concrete from the wall stood.

We had pasta, cookies, chips, fruit and endless amounts of random deliciousness all topped off with a half melted chocolate birthday cake for Emma. :) 

 

Hannah and I took a dip in the reservoir water that creates a lake in the valley of some mountains in this area. Initially we were just going to dip our toes in to cool off, but someone felt the need to push me. :) People fret about the sanitation of the water here, which they should, but I could’ve cared less on such a beautiful day. This was water that flows right down from the mountains. And when I haven’t stepped foot in water for three months, I genuinely wasn’t concerned with how sanitary it was. If I died, I would’ve died happy. 

Sooo cold.

After lunch we crossed a bridge to the paddle boats and split off into groups of five and loaded up. The paddle boat ride was in the area just across from where we’d had our picnic. The paddle boat just gave us a closer look at everything that surrounded us. 

We mostly coasted and enjoyed another beer or two while the sun hit our faces and glistened over the ripples in the water. 

After our paddle boat journey we grabbed a few more brews for our last trek back to the other side. Getting to the other side required me to climb down and around some not so guarded paths. The worst part was the rickety wooden bridge that probably hasn't been replaced in decades. The kind that always snaps in half in an action film and leaves someone dead or hanging on for fear of life. Yeah, that kind. Well, I not only crosse fit but managed to stop, while on it, and feeling every movement of other passers and took some shots of the most beautiful scene as the sun had begun to set. 

The back side of the damn.

This is where fear dissipated.

Stopping to take pictures on this rickety bridge...

Safely on the other side :) 

Occasionally, when I’m a million miles from home, away from my family and friends and all the people who have loved and pushed me so hard for the past 24 years, I wonder why the hell I leave and wander across the world… It’s days like this that reassure me I’m living life the way some people only dreamt of doing. I am afraid and 90% of the time I have no idea what I’m doing or what the result will be, but I decided a year ago that I wasn’t going to let fear stop me. Although, he knocks on my door, I’m still able to literally face my fears. Not just the traveling the world alone in hopes of finding a friend on the other side, but literally climbing mountains even if I’m having a panic attack all the way to the top. 

Yesterday was a reminder that I’m where I need to be in life. I may not be where I thought I’d be or where I will be in 10 years, but this life that I’m living right now is worth every struggle and worry I’ve endured to get here. I used to be bitter about how things ended up, and for once I can say I’m truly happy. Sometimes you just need to escape and see the other side to realize what you’re missing or to see what you’ve truly got when you think you have nothing. 

I’m 24 years old and I’ve now seen three wonders of the world. THREE! :) 

Kids say the darnest things..

I've been posting numerous pictures on my Instagram of my classes and what we do (#sueinchina). I forget that not all of my blog followers have access to that so I'll start doing mini blogs of in-class stories and situations here just so you all know I'm really teaching and not just being a tourist in China! :) 
Last week, I had my first ceremony class. As I said in earlier blogs, I teach multiple levels and there are sub levels within the four main levels. Therefore, after each level is completed, we have a mini ceremony class. This just means we show the parents what we've learned in that book, then we award certificates and they move on up. 
Luckily, I remain the teacher for the next level each time I have a class that graduates (typically). 
The unlucky side to that is the attachments I already have are going to break me when it comes time to leave in a year. 
This was a High Flyers ceremony. This group of kids are between seven and ten. I teach these kiddos every other Saturday, and although they're a handful, they seem to enjoy my teaching. 
Here are some pictures from after the ceremony.

Will - my wild 

My sweet, Ana <3

Jack - the goof! 

Edward - Mr. smarty pants

Harry - my quiet guy

Henry, aka "Hungry." :) 

Lucia, my shy girl <3

Sweet Cynthia :)

Betty Lou <3

In one of my Small Star classes (ages 5-7) we have been learning articles of clothing in the current unit. In this week's lesson we learned "put on" and "take off." So, I brought some random clothes to class and we had a great laugh watching the kids put on my giant clothes. A fitted tank top on me, is a baggy dress on the kiddos. Great fun! They died laughing when I took of my shoes. I taught 90% of this class barefooted, but I got the kids engaged and by the end we were all taking off and putting on our shoes. :)

The weekends for me are the worst two days of the week, as far as being busy. I love all of my classes, it's just exhausting. Plus, I'm new so I haven't entirely adjusted to the routine. 
With back-to-back classes, if you have a bad class, there is little time to regroup and get into the next class with as much pep as you can muster.
Every other Sunday I teach a brand new High Flyers class that is all mine. By all mine, I mean I haven't come in in the middle of a unit to replace another teacher. My co-teacher and I are the first teachers these kids have had so it's a nice, fresh start. 
We were discussing occupations and what each professional does in his career. At the beginning of class I went one-by-one asking each student what they wanted to be when they grew up. I got the usual responses: doctor, teacher, singer and policeman. 
When I was going through the flashcards, I would point at the student who said that career earlier. When the "model" flashcard came up, Jenny said, "that's teacher." So, you may have some students call you "pig," but thank goodness for the Jenny's who can reassure you. 
***Side note: many of the teachers have been called pig by at least one student. By Chinese standards, I'm quite big. The majority of the Chinese population are extremely small and thin, so of course, many foreigners look giant to them. We are trying to discipline the students not to call people pig or fat because it's rude. However, I'm not going to go home and off myself because a five-year-old called me fat because at 24 years old I suspect I should be larger in the eyes of a child. 
End side note! :) ***
At the end of class we created posters with facts of the occupation the kids want in the future. 

 

 
 
 
 


Oh, and last week in my Trailblazer class (12-16 in age) the class was a reading and writing assignment so we played music in the background while they wrote. I took requests and Adam said, "Hotel California by The Eagles." I texted my dad immediately following class, and of course, Adam became my new favorite student, ha. 
In the writing classes, typically the students choose the topics. The idea is just to get them writing and practice their grammar, sentence structure, etc. A fews weeks back, one of the students, Bill, sat on a small stars tabs (small plastic table) and it broke. So now we nag Bill about sitting on tables. One of the girls wrote her story about the day Bill sat on the table and broke it. Absolutely hilarious! It's this kind of stuff that makes it worth it. The teenage students have a sense of humor so it can be really fun in class. 
Also, I've learned the Chinese aren't big fans of nicknames. I have a student named Mei Lei, which it took me five weeks to learn because she doesn't have an English name. I told her I would just call her Brittany. Then I got Mei (May) down and told her that's what I would call her. She wasn't okay with that either, so now I have finally mastered her full name.
I have asked my older students to call me Amie and not teacher. When they just call me teacher it makes me feel quite old. So every time they say, "teacher," I ask, "what's my name?" However, Mei Lei, being the clever girl she is, refused to call me Amie. Payback for me calling her Brittany I suppose. <3
I have many students with long names that would normally shorten in Western culture such as Victoria, William and Edward, but they don't like Vic, Will or Ed. When you call them the shortened version, they think you don't know their names. I learned that the had way. 

"One day in the break time, we watched a movie. Bill sat on the table. One minute later, the table leg is broken. Teacher is angry. He said, "Who broke my table? Bill repair my table." Bill is sad, he said, " I know I am wrong. I'm so sorry." Now teacher is happy. Everyone is happy." :) 

There is something eventful in every class, it's just hard to catch you up at this point. If my Small Stars aren't feeding me candy and fruit, then my Trailblazers are teaching me Chinese during the breaks. It's all a beautiful thing honestly! 👌 

Adapting...

It's been a little over two months since I landed in China. It feels like five. I'm as comfortable here as I was at the end of my five months in New York. And that's surviving without Google maps and countless English-seaking natives.
I manage to get where I need to get here. Of course I've missed a subway stop a time or two, but that's more due to the lack of attention I pay with my headphones in and my nose in a game or a book.
Beijing is double the size of NYC in population, but probably double in size, too. The subway stops are far more spread out in Beijing. You can't go outside, walk for 10 minutes then enter another station, in that amount of time or less. If you leave the subway in Beijing, you're walking at least a mile to another one! So it seems like.
I walk 15 minutes to the subway from home each morning, ride the train for 40 minutes then hop off and walk 5 to work.
Apparently my other friends thought through their morning commute a lot more when choosing an apartment because they always say to me, "that's so far."
Maybe it is but I get an hour of solitude through my headphones and the walking unwinds me from the long days. Plus, I still always see the most interesting humans on my commute: street sleepers, street sweepers and street cutters (as I call them.) There are also beggars with electronic radios, and my favorite, the beggar who has no legs but manages to migrate begging stations at a quick pace.
The 40-minute commute is also filed with a dozen or more stares. I've narrowed the stares down to four types:
1. The children, of course. The children are the best, they literally can't take their eyes off of you, and you always say hello or ni hao, if they don't beat you to it. :) With the children are parents or grandparents who often force their children to say hello and wave to foreigners. The locals love you!
2. Creeps: in any city, country or culture, there are creeps along the way.
3. The women: the women who stare because they wish they had my skin color, when I'd kill for skin as dark as theirs and a day in the sunshine. The paler you are in China, the more beautiful you are.
4. The older generation: The stares from the older generation come for several reasons. Some for the same reasons as the above mentioned and some because they see my tattoos and piercings through my mid drift.

But just as in any country, you can spot the foreigners. We're all guilty of staring. I stare at them, too. It is what it is- curiosity.
I've adjusted to the staring. For now...

The one thing I've improved is my Chinese. The words I knew a month ago I can now actually say correctly! I've picked up a lot more. It's amazing how much you learn just from listening (something I've really been practicing here.)
I can now order a meal by doing more than pointing at a picture and saying, "jiga." It's not much more than that but I can say, "I want this." As apposed to just "this". More importantly I can say, "I want two beers." :)
The point is, you just have to say it, whether or not you sound like an idiot, or say it completely wrong, locals appreciate that you try. On that note, it helps me know how my students feel when they're learning English. The problem with learning a language is finding the confidence to use it. But once you do, you're fine. My local friends and colleagues are very supportive and active in helping me learn the language.

I guess at the end of the day, it's just survival. You try a lot harder to do and learn when you have no other options. The challenges are great, and although at the time of any challenge I'm furious, when I look back I see where I grew from it.

I'm making wonderful friends who are all on similar journeys as my own. The locals have taken a liking to my crazy behavior and love me. At home my actions and words are usually considered too spontaneous and crass, but here they just think I'm cooler than the other side of a pillow. So, I can't really complain. I'm really thankful for the support and help I get from my family here. I guess you can make it anywhere if you are willing to adapt and open your mind.

So I'm two months down and 10 more to go. It seems like a lifetime from now because I already feel as though I've been in Beijing for six months. I think that's a good sign!!! :) 

"Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?"

Thirteen years ago today, I was in the sixth grade and leaving lunch with my usual crew of friends at school when we were herded into the school auditorium for a sudden school assembly.

“The Twin Towers have collapsed in an act of terrorism and President Bush will land at Barksdale Air Force Base before the day ends,”

That’s obviously a rusty quote from my middle school principal, but that is the gist of what was said.

I thought he was talking about the tallest bank building in downtown Shreveport. I was 12, what did I know about buildings. And why else was President Bush coming to my city?

Although my family and I had visited New York City, and seen the Twin Towers from the Staten Island Ferry, just a year earlier, I was clueless.

I don’t remember how I felt when I heard the news because I didn’t honestly understand what had happened. I didn’t know the location, the significance of the buildings, and much less, I didn’t know the meaning of terrorism.  All I knew was the world had stopped; abruptly and briefly.

I do remember how I felt later that evening with my family watching the news coverage for hours on end.

The video footage, for the most part, was nothing more than smoke expelling from the hundredth-something floor and beyond, as civilians ran in panic in the streets below while the police, firemen and military swarmed in to do their best to control the situation and contribute maintaining the chaos.

There honestly isn’t much more to say because I was so young for this tragedy and it doesn’t hit as close to home to me. I do know the only beauty that comes from tragedies is the way humanity finds its way to the surface and humans come together as a nation.

In 2002, my family and I traveled to New York again and we saw Ground Zero. This was less than a year after the attacks. I remember a pit of rubble blocked off by a metal fence. Along the fence were plaques honoring the fallen and lost souls. Remembering lives lost. Sculptures were already placed around Ground Zero. Flowers had been thrown over the fence and now laid everywhere among the rubble that had yet to be cleared. To me, this was the most breathtaking and memorable moment I have of September 11, 2001. 

At the time of my visit to New York City, the reality of the War on Terror was only in the beginning stages at this point, just as 9/11 had just begun to not be the headline in every newspaper. 

The memorial at this stage was still very personal. The physical damage could still be seen in the rubble on the inside of the fence and the plastic draped alongside surrounding buildings that didn't fall. 

There was a lot of fuss over it, but in America, if you attempt to shoot us down, we just rebuild... and bigger. The construction of the four skyscrapers to replace the original WTC towers began in 2006. The towers are known simply as the Freedom Towers: 1, 2, 3 and 4. The simplicity of the name is significant on its own. 

In May of 2013, just seven years later, I visited New York City with my mom. They were just completing the fourth tower. The towers are absolutely beautiful. They have  classic New York City elegance. On a perfect sunny day, like the one we had, the towers gleam throughout downtown Manhattan. They are symbolic and they are beautiful. These buildings are what serves as a memorial to me. The fact that we rebuilt the towers, and this time more and bigger. 

Although the Freedom Towers are beautiful, the most beautiful form of remembering 9/11 hangs just outside every fire station in the city. On the wall outside of each station are beautiful marble plaques, and engraved in gold are the faces of heroes lost on 9/11 who belonged to the station. 

This is what I think of when I think of 9/11. 

Today, I was at my school and it was 1:30 p.m. before I remembered it was September 11. It is strange how I almost forgot because there have been no commercials for documentaries playing for the past week. No memorial service announcements and no memorial posts surfing around the Chinese Internet.

The line for September 11 is, “Never Forget!”

Although I didn’t remember sooner, today’s date will always be one to ring a bell of significance. It’s as familiar to the American people as October 31, December 25 and January 1. September 11 is a day that is never forgotten and a date that, although for tragic reasons, will always be branded into American minds.

It was strange to be in another country, on another continent today, but all the same, September 11 is still a day that, to this day, affects my country. 

Say and believe what you will about the reason for the war, but there is still a war on terror happening everyday and lives being affected by it daily.

Just remember to never forget. And, it’s not about the war, but about the innocent lives stolen before there even was a war and all the many lives that continue to be swept from life all too soon.

***I don't have any access to the photos of the memorial when I went in 2002, but here are a few from May 2013. :) I also don't know which tower is which. 

 

This is a building adjacent to the memorial site. You can see the damage from the smoke, rubble, etc. 

The NYFD station right outside the memorial. 

We were outside of No. 10 and they got a call. Kind of cool! 

 

The damaged building nearby (again.)