Our friend teaches English to high school students at a boarding school. They have class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night from 7-9, because that is the Chinese way. All school, all the time!
We were delighted that he asked us to come and give a short lecture in English last week. Our kids were at an international Christmas concert to see some of their friends perform, so just Rod and I set out for the school together.
Our house used to be on the outskirts of the city. This school is now located on the outskirts of the city, and we had to travel for over an hour to reach it. Beijing just keeps on growing!
Usually, our travels around Beijing are really simple. The subway goes to all of the places we normally visit, and we have learned to navigate it quite well. For this trip we needed the bus system, which is not so easy to navigate. We had no apprehensions, however, because our friend told us all we needed to do was to take the Fast Three bus north and get off at our stop. Simple!
At the bus station, we foolishly chose not to get on the first bus to arrive because it was so crowded. The next bus was even more crowded, however, and we allowed ourselves to be jostled out of our front-of-the-line position by people eager to get home after a long day's work. You'd think we would have learned these things by now! Our American cultural impulse to wait for the "less crowded" bus or to wait for everyone to get off before we climb on does not help us to get anywhere, and is really not considered as polite here. We utterly frustrate and confuse the people behind us by our hesitation, and everyone getting off is totally used to the way things work.
We huddled up and agreed upon a plan of action for the next bus. We stood side by side, elbows out at the entrance gate to ensure no one could cut around us. Then, while passengers disembarked, Rod blocked from the left, while I decisively pushed past those getting off, making an opening wide enough for him to squeeze on after me. It was a crush, but we made it! We even had time to get assurance from those around us that we were, indeed, on the Fast Three.
Each stop brought more passengers making their journey northward, and while Rod had a stationary (albeit unsafe) position pressed against the front windshield, I kept getting pushed farther back into the bus. The fortuitous thing about my position was that I now had a view of the blinking lights showing the upcoming stops on the map.
As I scanned the list for the name of our stop, I noticed it was not lit up in the row of blinking lights. Just in time, I questioned someone nearby about this issue, and was told we needed to get off at the next stop to change buses. We had boarded the wrong Fast Three bus. I relayed this message up to Rod, and began "asking" my way through the crowd. Getting off? Getting off? If the answer was no, they moved aside as much as they possibly could. Eventually I reached a young lady in a tan wool coat who was also planning to disembark, so I stayed right behind her.
When the doors opened, the press to leave the bus began, as the next group was also trying to board. I stayed in the wake of my fellow passenger, and another person stayed in mine, very close behind me. Eventually we reached the open door, but because I could not see my feet or what was in front of me, and was being hastened along by the person behind me, I stepped out right into the gap between the bus and the curb. My face slammed into the tan wool coat as I went down, knees first onto the edge of the curb.
The girl turned around with a cry. I could tell she thought she was getting pushed, but when she saw my predicament her expression softened. Rod helped me to a bench where I rested my achy knees for a few minutes until the next bus arrived. This one was not crowded, and we even sat down, confirming that it was the correct Fast Three. When what we thought was our stop came up, we asked another passenger, just to make sure we had heard correctly. No, he said, you still have one more stop to go. We sat back down, only to hear the speaker announce that the next stop was the one past where we needed to go.
This was the end of the line, and as we stepped down from the bus we were greeted by a wide open manhole, just about two feet from where we were let off! We were very grateful there was no longer a crowd to block this hazard from our view. Laughing, we called our friend to tell him of our situation, and he encouraged us to grab a bite to eat nearby (we had already missed dinner at the school), and he would come and pick us up by taxi.
We ducked out of the cold night into a restaurant where the menu is a colorful collage of giant pictures of each dish covering one wall. Apparently, foreigners do not frequent this establishment, for as we walked in, ordered our food and chose our table, all eyes were fixed on us. When our food came, there was much curiosity and talk about what we had ordered. The portions at this place were much bigger than normal, so we had ordered way too much! Our friend arrived and joined us for awhile, making us feel less embarrassed about the huge amount of food on the table.
When we finally completed our journey, the students greeted us warmly, brought us each a bottle of Coca-Cola, and participated enthusiastically in the discussion about how to make decisions regarding matters which are not clearly spelled out for us in the Bible. They had some really deep thoughts and serious questions.
At one point we took a break and introduced the game of "Head's Up, 7-Up," an American public school rainy day classic! Even though they are a little old for it, it was the only game I could think of that would work well with the number of students we had and the way the classroom was laid out. To my surprise, they really ended up enjoying it, and it brought back memories as I watched them interacting and being silly: the class clown making pig noises as he walked around the room, calls of "O-o-o-o-o-o!" when a certain boy chose a certain girl, one person taking an eternity to choose, and everyone telling him to just pick already! The class finished by the students playing instruments and singing a song together.
We made it home uneventfully, my knees felt better in a couple of days, and I think I found my new slogan for travelling in Beijing, "Head's Up, 7-UP." Oh, yeah. My teenagers are going to love it when I use that one! :)
We were delighted that he asked us to come and give a short lecture in English last week. Our kids were at an international Christmas concert to see some of their friends perform, so just Rod and I set out for the school together.
Our house used to be on the outskirts of the city. This school is now located on the outskirts of the city, and we had to travel for over an hour to reach it. Beijing just keeps on growing!
Usually, our travels around Beijing are really simple. The subway goes to all of the places we normally visit, and we have learned to navigate it quite well. For this trip we needed the bus system, which is not so easy to navigate. We had no apprehensions, however, because our friend told us all we needed to do was to take the Fast Three bus north and get off at our stop. Simple!
At the bus station, we foolishly chose not to get on the first bus to arrive because it was so crowded. The next bus was even more crowded, however, and we allowed ourselves to be jostled out of our front-of-the-line position by people eager to get home after a long day's work. You'd think we would have learned these things by now! Our American cultural impulse to wait for the "less crowded" bus or to wait for everyone to get off before we climb on does not help us to get anywhere, and is really not considered as polite here. We utterly frustrate and confuse the people behind us by our hesitation, and everyone getting off is totally used to the way things work.
We huddled up and agreed upon a plan of action for the next bus. We stood side by side, elbows out at the entrance gate to ensure no one could cut around us. Then, while passengers disembarked, Rod blocked from the left, while I decisively pushed past those getting off, making an opening wide enough for him to squeeze on after me. It was a crush, but we made it! We even had time to get assurance from those around us that we were, indeed, on the Fast Three.
Each stop brought more passengers making their journey northward, and while Rod had a stationary (albeit unsafe) position pressed against the front windshield, I kept getting pushed farther back into the bus. The fortuitous thing about my position was that I now had a view of the blinking lights showing the upcoming stops on the map.
As I scanned the list for the name of our stop, I noticed it was not lit up in the row of blinking lights. Just in time, I questioned someone nearby about this issue, and was told we needed to get off at the next stop to change buses. We had boarded the wrong Fast Three bus. I relayed this message up to Rod, and began "asking" my way through the crowd. Getting off? Getting off? If the answer was no, they moved aside as much as they possibly could. Eventually I reached a young lady in a tan wool coat who was also planning to disembark, so I stayed right behind her.
When the doors opened, the press to leave the bus began, as the next group was also trying to board. I stayed in the wake of my fellow passenger, and another person stayed in mine, very close behind me. Eventually we reached the open door, but because I could not see my feet or what was in front of me, and was being hastened along by the person behind me, I stepped out right into the gap between the bus and the curb. My face slammed into the tan wool coat as I went down, knees first onto the edge of the curb.
The girl turned around with a cry. I could tell she thought she was getting pushed, but when she saw my predicament her expression softened. Rod helped me to a bench where I rested my achy knees for a few minutes until the next bus arrived. This one was not crowded, and we even sat down, confirming that it was the correct Fast Three. When what we thought was our stop came up, we asked another passenger, just to make sure we had heard correctly. No, he said, you still have one more stop to go. We sat back down, only to hear the speaker announce that the next stop was the one past where we needed to go.
This was the end of the line, and as we stepped down from the bus we were greeted by a wide open manhole, just about two feet from where we were let off! We were very grateful there was no longer a crowd to block this hazard from our view. Laughing, we called our friend to tell him of our situation, and he encouraged us to grab a bite to eat nearby (we had already missed dinner at the school), and he would come and pick us up by taxi.
We ducked out of the cold night into a restaurant where the menu is a colorful collage of giant pictures of each dish covering one wall. Apparently, foreigners do not frequent this establishment, for as we walked in, ordered our food and chose our table, all eyes were fixed on us. When our food came, there was much curiosity and talk about what we had ordered. The portions at this place were much bigger than normal, so we had ordered way too much! Our friend arrived and joined us for awhile, making us feel less embarrassed about the huge amount of food on the table.
When we finally completed our journey, the students greeted us warmly, brought us each a bottle of Coca-Cola, and participated enthusiastically in the discussion about how to make decisions regarding matters which are not clearly spelled out for us in the Bible. They had some really deep thoughts and serious questions.
At one point we took a break and introduced the game of "Head's Up, 7-Up," an American public school rainy day classic! Even though they are a little old for it, it was the only game I could think of that would work well with the number of students we had and the way the classroom was laid out. To my surprise, they really ended up enjoying it, and it brought back memories as I watched them interacting and being silly: the class clown making pig noises as he walked around the room, calls of "O-o-o-o-o-o!" when a certain boy chose a certain girl, one person taking an eternity to choose, and everyone telling him to just pick already! The class finished by the students playing instruments and singing a song together.
We made it home uneventfully, my knees felt better in a couple of days, and I think I found my new slogan for travelling in Beijing, "Head's Up, 7-UP." Oh, yeah. My teenagers are going to love it when I use that one! :)
Oh Glenna, I'm sorry about your knees! I love your posts though. I always feel like I'm right there in China with you. Love you! Oh and We got your Christmas card! That was so exciting. We were impressed that it was the first one we got! :)
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