Letter to Students 17 July 2008

Dear Reader

I am now sitting in the lounge of gate 30 at an airport very much under renovation.  It is not a restful place to be, and is in such contrast to the immaculate finish on Beijing airport.  The staff here, also, are much less friendly, and even border on being terse.  The exception is a volunteer who had a badge saying she was the airport's ambassador, and she was a ray of sunshine after a stressful time when I realised I had left this laptop on the plane and security had shut down access to the plane!  As much as I had criticised this computer when I first bought it, it has served me well, and I now enjoy interacting with it.  It now contains many of my thoughts, and I would hate to have lost it.  Thankfully, a frazzled member of ground staff grudgingly went back on board and found it, and my tears flowed.  I sat by myself and stared out onto the tarmac at the plane which had brought me here.  My tears were a mixture of feelings, one of them being anger at myself for being neglectful at a time when I was actually being so careful. I had said goodbye to my newly made friends, had tidied up around me, even folding up my blanket, but had then left the laptop sitting on my seat!  I had thanked everyone for an enjoyable flight as I had eaten well, and even had a reasonable sleep.  Tears also flowed with relief that the laptop was still on the seat, that no one had taken it, and that I still had possession of my carefully chosen words.  Other emotions were of loneliness, of the feeling of separation from being away from my special family. 

Two days ago, I had a vivid dream about one of that special family, and on awakening I was sure that Suny had given birth to her baby.  I immediately rang the home of her inlaws, where Suny, Nathan and Indi were staying, to learn that she had had the baby at 8:30, the time I had had the dream.  It was amazing.  I was both ecstatic to hear of the birth, and devastated to be so far away.  Tears flowed for the separation, and the knowledge that again I will be boarding a flight to Japan on Monday night.  At other times, I would have been delighted to be returning to the country in which I feel so at home, but at this time, I feel torn away from my family who needs me, and I need them so desperately. As you can sense, I am feeling very fragile, and yet trying to remain very positive.  Reeapplying my makeup, I had a good talk to the person standing opposite me in the mirror.  I had prayed that my computer would be recovered, and my prayer was answered.  I told the person with the red eyes that she could do anything, and that any difficulties would be overcome with perserverance.  At the moment, I am dealing with an issue which is weighing on my mind, and which I am loathe to share with others as it will only worry them.  I am determined to resolve this on my own, and be all the stronger for it.

When Hu chen and I visited a particular temple in Qindao, I was drawn to a particular Buddhist guardian, whose name was Pushian Pusa.  He was sitting on an elephant, and as I prayed for our family, my father's face came into my mind.  Dad passed away two years ago,and I often go down to the cherry tree we planted in our lower garden in memory of him. As I prayed, a real peace came over me as I felt the connection to Dad.  I didn't want to rise from my kneeling position, but when I did, I felt at peace.  I had thought of family, friends, the school and all with whom I have contact.  While leaving the temple precinct, Hu chen drew attention to the writing on a wall which talked of the importance of doing good for all and bringing everyone you love together to strengthen the whole community bond.  It is what all religions preach, but it really touched me after the experience I had just undergone.

My computer battery was about to go flat as I sat writing the above, and I vividly remembered losing all my writing on the plane to London from Tokyo!  It was a good lesson in making me continually save my words, and I immediately did so again.  However, there are no sockets available for computers in the lounges, but I spied one beside a cafe which was closing because of a lack of water!  After fossicking in my bag for the correct plug connection and finding it, I am now sitting in the causeway on a borrowed cafe seat writing to you.  It is wonderful to do so, for if not, I would be wasting this valuable time as there is nothing else to do. Both my cellphones won't work, and I had to buy a telephone card to call the family so they wouldn't worry about me.  As I have said before, we expect to be in instant contact, and worry if we can't contact those we love immdediately. There are only six computers available with free internet access, and there is such a queue it isn't worth it.  A very good looking, well dressed couple just walked past me and stared.  I assume they have just come down from one of the first class lounges where internet, telephones, and water are not a problem. It is tough being a plebeian with no money!

(I have just used a telephone card and made contact with home.  Han has bought some lavendar oil, and plans to throw me in the spa with the aim of relaxing me.  I don't think he will have any problem doing that, although I will have to work hard at switching off my brain!!)

There is so much to tell you about China, and I think I summed it up when I addressed some businessmen at a luncheon in Qindao.  Hu chen and I had just been treated to a divine meal by the father of one of our students, and had earlier met at a traditional tea house which totally blew me away with its sophisticated beauty.The rooms, the cups, the overall decor was total class, as it was in the private dining room in which I made the speech.  The blue glass plates and glass chopstick holders, which were moulded in a shape to hold the spoon as well, served as wonderful receptacles for the mouth watering array of exquisite food presented by immaculately dressed waiting staff.  I firstly thanked those assembled for the amazing hospitality I had received, not only in Qindao, but in Beijing, Kunming, and Tianjin.  I said how much I appreciated the effort gone to in preparing a wonderful meal, and the attention paid to the accompanying china and glass.  The quality was something, I said openly, was a surprise to me, as in New Zealand we still associate Chinese goods with sweat shops and shoddy workmanship.  The media has fed us stories of unsafe materials, counterfeit medicines, and the Chinese products bought in the Warehouse are cheap and quickly broken.  Looking at the wide range of quality goods in department stores which rival those in Tokyo, I admitted that I had totally changed my view of products made in China.  My host, Mr Song, said that he wondered why only cheaply produced Chinese goods were sold in New Zealand.  He said that he never saw such products in the shops in which he shopped in China, and he asked if I had seen the foreign makes of cars which are now made in China.  You couldn't help but see the range of well known cars as they clog the roads throughout the country!  My remark about sweatshops must have hit a raw nerve although Mr Song had said nothing at the time.  Only after the exquisite dinner did he take me to see his factory to show me that not all of China exploited its workforce and added to the pollution of this huge country. I concluded my speech by talking about the openess with which I had been received, and the apparent honesty of the people I met.  I had gone to presentations on China in Dunedin, and came away thinking that doing business in China was too hard because you could never trust the Chinese businessmen.  I said that I may be proved wrong, but I truly believed that the business people I had met had the same strong moral values as I cherished, and had come by their money through extreme hard work. (May I not be proved wrong!!)

I have just been interrupted by a lovely couple who admired my wee laptop!  I am beginning to feel proud of this "folly" buy! The cafe assistant has also just had a chat, having asked me if I had difficulty seeing this tiny screen. It transpired that she is actually a North Island Maori, but her strong Ozzie accent attested to the fact that she had been living here for ten years. In New Zealand we call such trans Tasman Maori "Mozzies."  We had a good chat about big families, as she was one of seven girls, but she said it was better living here and travelling over to see her family once every three months. Less stressful, she claimed! I love these unexpected chats where you become involved in someone else's day, be it only for a few moments.  She has just finished for the day, and gave me a big cheery wave.

My flight has finally been called and I will continue talking about my visit to Mr Song's factory in the air, if the battery allows!

I am now ensconced in my seat, sitting beside a lecturer in Physiology from Auckland.  She is the first non Asian I have sat beside.  Sydney airport was abuzz with activity, and I have just been told that the Pope was visiting for World Youth Week. I have just realised I haven't read a paper or watched the news for three weeks. Learning about China was about all my small brain could handle anyway, so intense were all the experiences.  Visiting the plate metal factory about forty minutes north of Qindao was an interesting insight into how some businesses, or at least, this factory, and I assume Song's other factories, were run. From the outside, the large building looked like a factory building one would see in New Zealand, with grass on one side, and even a basketball hoop.  Inside, huge metal sheets were unrolled and cut into specific lengths according to the request of the customer.  At the far end, there were about twenty girls and four men working on making sheep shearing combs, of all things!  Everyone was dressed in smart red polo shirts and black pants, and they all looked up and smiled as I entered.  I was shown where the water was recycled so that the staff could take hot showers, and the factory was spotlessly clean.  The main administration building housed their main office, where we sat and drank "poor" tea, an expensive tea which is supposed to be good for women in particular.  The staff was all housed in the building and I was proudly introduced to the chef and shown his kitchen and dining room.  Song is naturally proud of what he has achieved in ten years, having come up with the idea of the customised cutting of steel sheets with a friend when he was still a chef.  He has invested heavily in a protype windmill, which should be ready in two years, and he said he loves the challenge of producing new things. When we talked about religion, he said that he has stories which would put us off Buddhism, saying that he preferred to believe in himself. Ironically, he has a big Buddhist screen displayed at the entrance to his offices, and we all laughed when I pointed this out.  I can't remember the exact words, but it was all about modesty and doing one's best, obviously qualities we all should have.

An ESOL teacher has just come up and started talking with me, so I will finish this leg of my journey here, and go to another seat where we can talk and not disturb my neighbour who is involved in her book.  Maria, who is originally from Portugual, but brought up in Canada, shares my views on teaching, and is fascinating to talk with.  As I said earlier, I love such chance meetings, and I truly believe that fate has brought us together.  You owe it to the powers which guide us to follow such encounters!

Have a great week, and I will write again once I am back on that plane to Japan!

Love

Sharron