Yin. Yang.

In the third grade I had a Yin Yang pendant strung on a black cloth string around my neck. I wore that necklace everyday that year and never truly new what it meant. All I knew was black and white were opposites. 

I consider myself a person who believes; everything is interconnected while seemingly stands all alone. I look to themes within a culture to relate to or to enrich the knowledge I have gained from each place. Yin Yang has already come up  in common conversation while living in China. 

These two little half circles have turned into so much more than opposites. It is in China I have finally learned what the symbol truly means. The symbol displays opposites can only exist within the presence of the other. Opposites echo in life here. Man and woman,  poor and rich, elder and child, teacher and student, open-minded and close-minded. The list goes on. Differences are recognized but not dwelled upon. 

Many say the US breeds straight forward people--fast talking business men or “take no crap” bosses but what I have experienced, so far, in China is the chinese are much more straight forward. Actually, they are the most straight forward people I have ever met. They are also some of the kindest people I have ever met. 

Yin, the english name of a teacher I have met at Wuyi, has become a kind of mother figure to me. She is the most hilarious chinese woman I have met and the most blunt. We call each other friends but we seem more like family. At least, one day a week Yin and I go out around the town. Mainly we window shop and she introduces me to different foods but she has also showed me her hometown, right outside of Jiangmen’s city. 

She has told me some of her story of how she came to be where she is today. The late Tom Wilcox must be mentioned here because he was integral for Yin’s career as a Chinese English teacher. Without his influence, he helped her study abroad in New York, I am not sure I would have loved Jiangmen as much as I do. I feel as though she is my Tom Wilcox in China. Through this relationship I have seen the Yin Yang of the poor and rich.

Yin and her family are by no means rich but they do very well for themselves in China. However, this is not what Yin was always used to. I have mentioned that she showed me her hometown and the house where she grew up. When I climbed into her old home I was hit by how far she has come in life. The house had a, basically, dirt floor. When you enter you have the shower/bathroom on your left and the kitchen on your right. For this section there was no roof because this is also where the stairs were that led to the roof where, she told me, they would set out the rice. One more step over a threshold and you are in the living room. There were three bedrooms one to the left and two to the right. The third, yin said, was rented out when her family lived there. That was her life and now it has greatly improved because of the people she has met and drive she has within herself. Yin Yang. 

On our outing this past Sunday Yin and I went to the market and bought an abundance of fruit. It happened to be in an area where Yin used to live so naturally the woman selling us tangerines was someone she knew. Of course Yin could not remember her but the woman did and Jiangmen is a city of 4 million people! On greeting Yin the woman told her she has gained weight. Yin responded, “So have you.” “Yes,” said the woman, “you do not look very old though. . . . except for your gray hair.” This would be rude in America but in China it is a normal, perfectly acceptable line of questioning when saying hello to someone. 

People ask me, “Are you married?” “Do you have kids?” “Do you have a boyfriend?” What an American would wait to ask someone when they first meet them the Chinese would ask right after- how are you? However my friends here and almost everyone I meet wants to help me in any way they can. I know I know--”it is only because I am a westerner”-- but when I ask students what they like about Jiangmen, most, say that the people are so nice. 

A few weeks ago Alex Tim and I set out to find the elusive Red Garlic. A western restaurant where  we were told we could find the best pizza in Jiangmen. It was sprinkling-- as it has been on and off for a while now. So we walked outside the north gate from campus to catch a taxi. CRASH. The sound of metal and plastic colliding with pavement invaded my ears and I could barely comprehend what happened before I followed Tim over to the commotion. A woman had braked on her moped, caught some water underneath her tire and ended up sideways on the ground-- in the middle of, probably, the busiest street in Jiangmen. Tim went to her aid along with two other Chinese students. He had to rip her raincoat to free her from the bike. The Chinese wear poncho type raincoats that cover them and their entire moped in the rain. All I could do was stand around them and kept an eye out to make sure other drivers paid attention and went around us. 

Eventually the students moved her to the curb, her leg was hurt but no bleeding. Tim asked the security at the gate if they could call the police or someone to take her to the hospital but; the guard did not understand or did not want to call. We realized we did as much as we could do. So we left the woman with the two students and found a taxi. We passed the incident again, because the taxi had to circle back around, and viewed the student on the woman’s bike while the woman rode behind. He was a stranger and he did all of this for her. Yin Yang. 

Tidbits. 

The people of China are said to all look the same. To quote Chris Tucker in the movie Rush Hour, “All y'all’ look alike.” Yet, I have found some to remind me of family or friends back home. 

Yes. The form of potty training is a cut in the pants of your child’s clothing, then taking them to the side of the street and letting them “do their business” while you cradle them  between your legs (butt facing the pavement- a makeshift toilet). I did not notice this until I read John Murray's eloquent blog paragraph on the subject. Thanks John. 

One Saturday, while helping a Chinese teacher in her English classroom, I wrote gray on the board-- we were talking about colors. She promptly told me I spelt it wrong. So I switched to the British English spelling of grey and moved on. I have now realized the Chinese learn British English not American English. This was also the case when I described my “pet peeve” to my students: when people throw trash on the ground. They did not understand until I changed the word trash to rubbish. (I thought you would enjoy this one Katie Johnson.) Exit signs are also marked with “Way Out,” I now refer to the bathroom as the W.C., and I have also seen signs that say “Mind Your Head.”

I see footprints in the cement sidewalks and streets every where. Maybe this is because I look down a lot-- the ground (even paved) is very uneven here. But, I swear it is as if the Chinese want to do things their own way. They will not wait for the cement to dry.