Speaking from a Former Miss Congeniality

I used to have a coworker at my previous place of employment that I had sporadic contact with.  I would always approach each interaction with a bit of dread because he always appeared rather annoyed when I dealt with him.  Not used to such type of treatment, I made a secret pledge to get the guy to like me before leaving. 

On my last interaction with him I braved it up to tell him that I was leaving and that this most likely would be the last time I would have to interact with him.  Upon hearing the news he broke out in a smile.  Ha!  I had finally got the guy to smile.  'Leaving,' he said.  Surprised that I had finally broke him all I could manage was a 'yep.'  I had managed to get him to open up--it only took me telling him that I was leaving.   

I tell this story to illustrate how there is this drive in me to get everyone to like me.  It's a bit selfishly driven I've realized.  Being liked feeds my self-esteem, and thus I'm able to feel good about myself.  I see this same drive in operation as I'm here--and if I'm to survive out here I'm learning that I need to claim with absolute authority who I am in Him.

It's hard when the line of questioning around here looks like this:
- Where are you from (sounds more like 'what kind of person are you'?)
- How much money do you make?
- How much do you pay for rent?

Other questions include:
- Do you have a boyfriend?
- How many cars do you have in the States?
- How much do you make in the States?
- How much do your parents make in the States?

Then what follows is usually the person's assessment of what type of person you are.  You can literally see the wheels turning in their heads as they search to place you in some category.  When they look more closely at me they almost always say that I look more 'western.'  I credit my nose for that. Then they usually tell me what they originally thought I was--usually Korean, and sometimes Japanese.

For someone with a fragile ego such as myself, by some amount of grace I've been able to chuckle at these interactions.  I can almost predict with certainty the things they'll say.

Something I don't need to predict is what my Father thinks of me.  I am, without a doubt, His.   

T-A-G, I'm It. 

Since I've been 'tagged', I'll post this entry in tribute. Here are twenty random things about me...

#1. I'm a clutz.  Take today for example.  On my way to school I lost my shoe while biking.  Needless to say it was an embarrassing trek back the road to retrieve my shoe.  On other occasions I misjudge doorways and am prone to falling down stairs.  Graceful--who, me? 

#2. I'm an INFJ.  Don't get me started on explaining this.

#3. I love mayonnaise on rice.  How else did you think I keep a slim figure?

#4. I can't do sit-ups for the life of me.  During those dreaded 'physical education' assessments in grade school I always lagged waaay behind.  Ab roller, anyone? 

#5. I've never cut class in my life.  And so perpetuates the goody-2-shoes image...

#6. I was given the dubious honor of Most Congenial 8th Grade Girl.  I have no clue as to why my teachers would select someone as painfully shy as myself, but hey, that makes a crowned Miss Congeniality :)

#7. I never had a TV until sixth grade.  My default response in the 'deprived child' game.  So what if I can't name all the Smurfs?

#8. I only tolerate white hangers in my closet.  But I found that in my new place of residence that white hangers are hard to come by.  I've since allowed blue and green hangers of different types to reside side by side... 

#9. I had a double major and a minor in college.  And went part-time my last quarter.  Here's to being an overachiever in highschool and earning those beloved AP credits!  Before you think too highly of me, also know that I 'earned' 3 D's in high school and failed the writing proficiency exam...

#10. On that note, I almost didn't graduate high school.  Why?  Because of that dreaded swim test requirement in SF.  Passing that swim test is one of my greatest feats in life.  Oh, and I guess you now know that I can't really swim...no triathalon for me...

#11. I failed my driver's permit exam on my first attempt.  Who said it was cake? 

#12. Peeling shrimp gives me hives. My stubbornness always says--'I'm not allergic'--then I start peeling those shrimp and sure enough, those darn hives break out.  But I can eat them no problem...oh but wait, then there's my high cholesterol...

#13. I had a 5-month stint in marketing.  My first job out of college--then I was laid off.  And the rest, they say, is history.

#14. I once received a marriage proposal while overseas.  No, not recently.  And no, I don't need to go into details...

#15. In another life I would have been an ice skater.  I never had ice skating lessons when I was young--something I'll never let my dad live down (because I begged and begged).  Who knows, I could have been the next Kristi Yamaguchi (to which my dad replies with a 'harumph'...)

#16. Yes, I can see when I'm smiling.  I get asked that question often enough.  I rather like my crescent-moon shaped eyes.  You can't tell if I've blinked or not in pictures...

#17. I can't use chopsticks correctly.  And even with regular utensils, I'm the messiest eater alive.  I can't seem to keep food where it belongs...on my plate or in my mouth...

#18. My dream car is a Volkswagon Beetle.  Lime green.  Convertible would be nice.  Until then, I love riding my trusty steed here, shao lan.  Oh, and Silas, I didn't forget about you (Silas is my '99 VW Passat...with shao huang, my dashboard rubber duckie in tow).

#19. I'm spatially challenged.  Okay so maybe being a clutz implies that.  It gets worse.  I recently tried building a train track for one of the M kids here and miserably failed...no wonder I was always at odds with those lego sets when I was young...

#20. I'm a woman in love...with my ice cream.  Yes, ice cream.  It's comfort food for me out here.  And yes, if these 20 things about Sherise weren't random enough for you, then TAG! You're it!        

What Would You Do?

You're enjoying a day in the Big City.  It's a treat being out here, as recently you've grown weary of the more rustic surroundings of your neighborhood.  You're walking along the street and run across a merchant with a familiar look to him.  You realize that the merchant belongs to the same people group you had encountered on previous trips out West.  This is a welcome sight, given all your difficulties interacting with the majority (looking) people here.  Your heart immediately feels a soft spot.  The merchant beckons you to try a sampling of his wares.  You oblige, excited that you have an opportunity to interact with a people group that brings back fond memories.  However, the merchant pushes his wares on you, insisting you pay a ridiculous price, far beyond their worth.  You politely decline and ask that you purchase half of what he wants.  The merchant begins to grow angry.  He has already set aside the amount for you to purchase.  A crowd begins to hover as the man raises his voice.  Dumbfounded you look at your teammate for help.  Meanwhile, the man continues to yell. 

What would you do?
A.  Leave.  You don't need to be swindled. 
B.  Start asking for the gift of tongues to communicate in the man's heart language.
C.  Pay the man.  You sacrifice your rights, but ultimately, it's little sacrifice. 
D.  Cry.

Allow me to snap back into first person and explain that this was the scenario given to me today.  Let me also say that two things that break my heart are 1) being misunderstood and 2) being yelled at.  Here they were happening simultaneously, and I felt helpless to do anything about it.  Though my first instinct was A, I chose B, C, and D.   

This man carried an obvious chip on his shoulder.  I thought of what his story must be--marginalized by the majority peoples, and having to cheat in order to earn a living--the cheating being justified with the many injustices dealt his way.  And here I was with my majority 'face,' with plenty of onlookers from the majority peoples looking on.  I knew they would have walked away.  As the merchant turned his back to get our change, I started crying out loud to Father, with AC chiming in.  It unexpectedly produced a well of tears so that when the man turned back to us, he was met with a face streaming with tears.  Almost in unison, AC and I said 'thanks' in his heart language.  This must have confused him because his countenance softened.  We left, and I could still feel the stares of the people behind us.  AC handed me a tissue.       

I cannot love in my own strength. I thought that by seeing a familiar face that I was able to love in the past would bring some measure of comfort.  Instead it showed me that love cannot insist on its own way.  I am to love the peoples here, despite all that I've struggled with to be accepted.  And yet I know that I cannot love without Someone loving me first.  For that love was paid a great price, far greater than what was sacrificed today.

Oh What a Beautiful Morning?

I've said before that being here can either make me laugh or cry...sometimes I just don't know what to feel.  Examples from my week:

Water!  I came home Thursday night to no running water in our apartment.  My immediate thought was that it was my own fault for not doing the water thing right.  I cursed the backwardness of the system, and hoped that our pipes would soon flow once more.  A few hours passed...a gurgle of water increased our hopes...but still, nothing.  I resigned myself to not having a shower, and went to bed.  You can't be a girlie girl, right? 

Mud!  My mistake for wearing white capris on a rainy day.  But why do there have to be so many puddles around here?  All those dang potholes prove to be the bane of my existence--bike hazards and reservoirs of mud on days that the sky chooses to pour forth.  "Oh no matter," I told a local person when they pointed out my muddied pants.  In fact, it did matter some... 

Mosquitos!  I am the most determined mosquito hunter in the wee hours of the morning.  On more than one occasion I've heard the eerie buzz in my ear which causes me to jolt violently and make a quick duck under the covers.  But who can sleep knowing that you're going to be eaten alive?  So I flick on the lights and go on the offensive.  Bleary-eyed, I search for the flesh biting creature.  Current score--Sherise: 2, Mosquito: 1.

Chickens!  I was not prepared for my trip to the market this morning.  All of a sudden I descended upon masses of people, each person going in different directions on different modes of transport.  Honking cars and loud speakerphones blared around me.  I was not a happy camper.  As I waited along the side of the road as AC made a purchase, I noticed that I was nicely situated across from a live chicken stand.  During my wait I witnessed the deaths of four chickens, and the attempted escape of four ducks (see inset with woman chasing duck and man with chicken looking on).  I just stood there, seemingly unfazed.  Nothing fazes an SF city girl, right?

You'd think I'm just hanging by a shred with all that I share about life out here.  Sometimes I literally am.  Is this even worth it? 

It so is...(worth it, that is).  There is a growing sense in me that far exceeds all the trivial matters of 'comfort' and 'familiarity.'  This growing sense is spurred by the infinite worth of my Rescuer.  I know we do not labor in vain.

These are beautiful days indeed.

Maybe I Don't Want the Attention Anymore.

You're going to hate me for being a ma fan about this, but remember, this is Life as He Reveals.  And today it was revealed to me that maybe I don't want so much attention around here.  Aiya, Sherise, make up your mind...I know, I know...but something tells me I'll be going back and forth on this.

Let me explain.  Today was the big "pay for your water" day.  What exactly this means I still don't know.  The Ch. way of doing things doesn't make sense at all sometimes to me.  I think my demand for efficiency has been thrown right out the window, along with a bunch of other 'rights.'  Anyhow, we have this water meter in our house which keeps track of our water usage.  We also have this card which was given to us by our landlady.  This is our 'water card.'  So my understanding is that you add money to this card each month, depending on how much water you want. 

Without AC in tow, I had to figure this one out on my own.  I headed downstairs, and was met with a mild scene of chaos as people were holding their cards and waiting around for their turn to pay.  I entered the office, tried to make sense of the situation, and quickly turned to the woman next to me and said (in Ch.) "Um...I'm new here...how exactly does this work?"  I didn't understand anything in her reply, but a woman approached and pushed a number in my hand.  27.  Okay, great, I have a number, now what?  I decided to be smart and watch how other people did it...but my number came up too fast and I couldn't really make a generalization.  So I repeated the same line that I did to the woman at the door..."I'm new here...how exactly does this work?"  What was once a room abuzz with conversation was now quiet.  I could feel the stares of everyone on me.  The woman paused, took my card and asked "Where are you from?"  "Um...I'm American...ABC."  There was then a sense of "guaibude" (no wonder) and she then proceeded to explain the protocol...but all I could hear was the Charlie Brown teacher voice...which amounts to gibberish in my ears.  I paid, thanked the woman, and bolted on out of there.

I just wanted to disappear at that point.  But I was proud of myself...sometimes its just in the act of putting yourself out there that you find real satisfaction, whatever the perception of the locals :)  I know Him who holds me steadfast...whoever loves Him is known by Him.  That's the kind of attention I like :)

What it Takes to Get Some Attention Around Here.

Most of the time I integrate pretty seemlessly around here.  I don't usually call attention to myself (save for my less than saavy biking skills :).  Most people don't even blink an eye as I make my way of life in this foreign land.  Now you may be thinking, "that's great, Sherise...you blend right in!"  Well, except for the fact that I secretly want the attention.  Granted, I'm no limelight hog, but when traveling with my non-Ch. colleagues, you get a taste of what the limelight feels like--enough to make you want the same attention.  I can be a celebrity just by association with a 'foreigner.'  This isn't always true, though--the other week as we were exiting a restaurant, one of the local people held open the 'fly trap' door for our non-Ch. colleagues and after taking a look at AC and myself, quickly let go of those annoying plastic strips that guard the doorway, leaving AC and myself to open it for ourselves.  I could only chuckle.     

BUT, after three weeks here, I am proud to say that AC and I have finally managed to draw attention to ourselves, without any 'wai guo rens' in our midst.  It only took us carrying large backpacks and three large bottles of orange juice each (hey, is that that wierd?).  Here I thought I was going to have to stand upside down and sing 'My Heart Will Go On' until I was blue.  Or was that dye my hair blonde?

Oh the humor of being in this place :)

On Being a Girl (Continued).

This is more on being a girl, only this time I share with you my perspective from the 'east.'  Many of you know that I am vehemently opposed to being labeled a girly girl...ask me to define what that exactly means, and I still fumble for words.  Just don't call me high maintenance...!  (Only my dad is allowed that).

You can't really be a girly girl out here.  Even for me, who prides myself in being low maintenance, has longed for certain beauty products, such as cotton pads and skin toner.  I finally purchased some "white convergence water," which promises to "disappear proportionally, aside bright skin."  See inset.  Um, yeah.  I just need to get the dirt off my face. 

You also have to get used to wearing the same outfit.  Not just over and over, but in consecutive days.  I think three days is about my max. 

Despite the fact that I can set aside girly longings here, I'm still a girl.  And being here has put me in the role of damsel in distress more often than I'd like.  Whenever I'm home and run into snafoos, I'm quick to shout a loud "Dad!' and my good 'ol dad, who knows he's outnumbered in the gender balance in our family, is gracious enough to bail me out.  Who do I call upon here?  Within our first week, we were quick to realize that we were two helpless females...we needed help carrying furniture up to our 6th floor apartment, setting up our router, fixing our leak, fixing our washing machine, putting our water bottle into the cooler, oh and the list goes on. 

There are sometimes I wish I wasn't a girl, but then again, I'm humored that it makes me see I have limits.  So I may be helpless, but not hopeless.  My Greatest Help abides with me still :)    

How to Make Jiaozi (Dumplings)*  
Ingredients:  [Outside skin] flour, water
[Inside filling] chives, ground chicken, shrimp, salt, fried eggs, sesame oil

  
- Mix the flour and water together for a firm, but kneadable dough.
- Combine the ingredients for the filling. 
- Cut the dough into slices.  Separate into small chunks. 
- Roll out dough into a circle with a rolling pin.

  
- Insert a small spoonful of filling into the dough. 
- Fold the two halves together and pinch the sides. 
- Jiaozi can be boiled or fried for a good taste.

* Best results if made with a local. 

Humble Pie.

It's almost a given that in order to survive out here you're gonna have to eat your share of humble pie.  Unfortunately, there are moments when I feel like I've eaten enough humble pie, and when served yet another slice I want to cry foul.

The irony of this all came to a head this week as I was helping one of the office staff translate my resume.  You could call my resume lengthy--not because I claim expertise--teaching ESL involves a lot of part-time stints, and my resume resembles a smorgasboard more than anything else.  Still, it makes me feel good about who I am (oh the vanity!).  As I realized all that I've left behind, I began to think of what sort of competence I can claim here.  Let me think...um...that would be a big fat ZERO.  Translation = LOSER. 

Forget that I get compliments for being gentle, patient, and humble.  When pressed to the core, my anger seethes.  This week I nearly lost it as the gatekeepers at the park where my school is located wouldn't let me in without buying a ticket even though I had my I.D.  Apparently, the date was 'expired' (It wasn't).  "Mai piao" they said.  I began to boil with anger, knowing that if I had a white face I would be let in.  I began to argue, and then some divine graciousness swept through and I took out my wallet, bought a ticket and managed a thanks with gritted teeth.

As I'm here so much of me wants to justify who I am.  Dude, don't you know that in America I'm x, y, and z?    But oh how the tears flowed when these words were given to me: "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that JC's power may rest on me.  That is why, for JC's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong."

 
In HK with relatives.                         In MC with 'club' folks from '99 and '00. 

  
Our arrival in our new city!                 Me and 'Shao Lan' (my bike). 

 
Me and the curious goats.                 Our first meal out!  Beef noodles!