Nice to meet you, too, Wuhu!

(With a cute, sweaty baby who was our neighbor on the train).
(International relations at its finest. A baby from our organization greeting a Chinese baby in Wuhu).
(Woo-hoo for Wuhu on the choo-choo train).
(Making my students write on the board during class today).
(The infamous lake on campus has had most of its water drained)


First things first. We've arrived safely back in Nanchang after a great few days in Wuhu! Woo-hoo! Our train pulled into the Nanchang station at 5:30 a.m. on Monday. Although we hadn't slept on the train really, we were off and running for the rest of the day--teaching, etc.

Wuhu is a provincial city, like Nanchang, but slightly less chaotic and gritty. For some reason, I really enjoyed the city and university where we stayed. About 30 people from our organization met up to celebrate a belated Easter and hang out together. It was fun fellowshipping (is that a word?) with a wide variety of believers teaching in various cities in this region.

Saturday was the only good weather day. We walked the tree-lined city, which is all hilly and quaint. We also hung out with the other teams and ate good food. Somehow I also ended up at a frilly place with some other girls for an hour-and-a-half facial for 50 kuai ($7).

It was pure luxury. I've never had a facial before in my life, so I don't know if it's similar in America, but it was quite enjoyable. Perfect, porcelain-looking women poured us tea. Then they put us in an all pink room where they massaged our heads and arms and wiped gallon after gallon of face-stuff on us. I have no clue what they put on our faces, but it was still so relaxing and quiet!

I don't really remember what else we did. I mainly just remember the overnight train trips, which are always memorable. You're almost guaranteed that you won't sleep with the constant jerking of the train, the chatter, the smoke, the squatty potty smell, the people snoring all around you, people getting off and on the train at all hours of the night...

But it's rather humorous being on the overnight trains here. This is a snapshot of a night on a Chinese train (about my 10th time): First, you herd from the crowded waiting room of crumpled fellow travelers. Hundreds of people, including all the people precariously balancing gigantic bags on their shoulders with poles, are corraled through to the platform. The platform is filled with old-fashioned trains, with smoke and/or steam filling the usually very dimly lit area. We joke that it is the "troops coming home, World War I edition."

The uniformed attendants examine your ticket while everyone surges onto the train cars. Then you walk through the very narrow, stuffy, smoky cars to find your hard sleeper bunk in a car full of bunks, stacked 3 beds high. Your fellow passengers usually look curiously at the foreigners. They smoke, talk about these strange white people (talk which I can understand more each time), and smoke some more.

This time there was a woman across from me. She looked so weathered by life, but she had a precious 4 month old baby, who sat rather lethargically with sweaty hair. We got to hold the tiny baby, who had five layers of clothes on (see the pictures). Then the woman sang the little baby to sleep in her arms and sheltered her the rest of the night. They got off the train at about 3 a.m.

Periodically a woman would come with a broom made of twigs to sweep around the dirt on the floor. She also rearranged our shoes to tidy things up.

There was also a man near me who liked to take smoking breaks at 2 a.m. I woke up from a restless sleep to find this man sticking his head out of the train window, politely trying to keep the smoke from the car. It didn't help, though. The smoke just billowed back into the car...

Anyway, back to the news here. Some of my students have started to leave for recruiting. Recruiting is causing a lot of anxiety among most of my students. They are pressured so much to leave to recruit other schools, and most of them don't want to go. Thus, the students either give in and go, abandoning their studies for the rest of the school year, or they stay and feel quilty, spending many sleepless nights worrying about what their angry head teachers might do.

So depsite the beautiful weather, its sometimes easy to feel despair. For example, every day I look out the classroom window and have a great view of the small, pretty lake in the middle of campus. There is a pagoda, which is supposed to inspire the students every day to live wonderful lives dedicated to knowledge and their country. But it isn't inspiring or pretty to me anymore. I really can't look at it at all, without feeling sadness.

I just learned that this is apparently the place of choice for suicides on campus. During tomb-sweeping holiday alone, two students tried to drown themselves. One did drown, and the other was saved by somebody. I just think about how they most likely didn't know Him; how they have never been able to experience true life.

There have been several other drownings there this semester, but no one really talks about it or addresses it. Some people actually laugh about it, albeit in a nervous, uncomfortable way.

At the end of one of my classes yesterday, I was motivated (perhaps by Him) to momentarily address the issue, since nobody will really talk about it. I sincerely said that they don't have to be hopeless, and if they ever need to talk or need someone to listen, to please, please come talk with me. The students so often feel overwhelmed and empty. There is so much pressure on them from all angles of society that they don't think they can continue. And, ultimately, the answer to their purpose in life can't be answered by any boyfriend, girlfriend, studies, college degree, or country.

I didn't think anything more of it. Then after class, I was leaving the classroom. One girl who hardly ever talks, and seems withdrawn this semester, rushed up to me. She said, "Miss Laura! Please, what is your phone number? I might want to come talk to you." Hopefully she will.

Is that a heavy way to end this extremely long blog entry? Perhaps. Especially because my heart feels totally broken for these dear students. But... it's not going to be the end of the story. He redeems and restores. Please continue to think of these students--that they can come to know Him in the midst of their struggles.

But I'll leave you on a happy note. One of my students wrote me a note saying good-bye (I technically can't tell my students yet that I'm returning next year). Here's what he wrote:

"Four days later I will go home for a long long holiday, because our school is very specical in our country that you know... It difficult but I will try. I hear you will go back to America and never teach me, what a pity! I will miss our happy life during this years. I also rember the first lesson I take brave to take photo with you. I will miss you, a special one in my life. Best wishes for you!"