"Happy Birthday" in a dozen languages

Okay, a dozen is probably over estimating how many languages people used this year to tell me happy birthday, but not by much. Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese, Creole, Swahili…

 

But instead of boring you with a list of languages, let me tell you about the most amazing birthday I could ever have asked for while living in a foreign country. The morning was pretty typical for me, although I did decide to skip my first two hours of class in order to call home. And we did have a pop quiz in the class I did go to, over material I hadn’t even looked at yet. Oops. But besides that, it was pretty normal.

 

After class, a friend from the Medical University had asked me to go down to his campus to help him with an application. So I headed off on an absolutely ridiculous attempt to take a bus to the Medical University. Let’s just say it normally takes 40 minutes, and this time it took more than twice that. But after finally realizing my normal bus choice has recently changed routes such that it no longer comes my way, then walking a while to find another bus going the right direction, standing on a crowded bus for far too long, managing somehow to get lost between where I got off and where I was headed (construction sites…), and getting soaked in the sprinklers that randomly decided to go off right when I was walking by, I made it there.

 

After a few minutes of “work” there at the school, we decided the weather was too perfect for sitting inside. So we headed down to a beautiful park along a river at the south side of the city. It was marvelous! It was the perfect opportunity to enjoy a surprisingly-not-so-full-of-Chinese-people park. We walked along the river a ways, happened upon the damn upstream that we didn’t know about, and played badminton for a while on an amazingly green lawn.

 

I had no plans for the evening, so was more than willing to spend plenty of time enjoying the park and the perfect weather. However, the guy I was with insisted that he had to be back to his room at 6:00 for something. So at the appropriate time we made our way back to campus. (Not my campus, but the Medical campus. A significant portion of my friends here are from the Medical University and not from my school, so I spend a good deal of time down there.) To my great surprise, the “thing” at 6:00 was a party for me!

 

I was really impressed that they actually managed to keep the event a surprise to me, especially when I found out that several of the others were also surprised to find out it was a surprise! But they managed, and I was indeed not expecting such a thing. But I have to admit that the whole day made me feel so loved and feel so much belonging among these people.

 

The party itself was way better than just a typical birthday party, because it started with a time of singing my favorite kind of songs and some sharing from my favorite book, and then they all asked our Father on my behalf. What an encouragement! But of course, the party would only have been a fellowship if it had ended there. So that was followed by lots of delicious fruit, some delivered Chinese food, and even a cake. (By the way, turns out it really is the thought that counts. Somehow the cake really did taste pretty good, since it was from my friends who cared enough to get it for me, even though it was one of those typical Chinese cakes that really can’t compare to anything back home.) The food, though, had nothing on the other activities of the night. Among the eight of us there, we represented seven countries. Of those seven countries, six of them were in Africa. (Hint: I’m from the U.S., which is not in Africa.) So someone grabbed a guitar and started playing some African P&W songs that I have learned over the course of this year. African songs are very energetic and just make you want to dance. So six of us (minus the guitar player and the cameraman) squeezed into the open half of the one dorm room and danced: South African dancing, Tanzanian dancing, etc. And all to music that is uplifting and encouraging. How fun!

 

However, six sweaty people in a (small) dorm room with no air soon turned into a hot, sticky mess. After we were too hot and tired to go on (or was it that they ran out of African P&W songs that I know?), we decided to watch a movie. It was a really interesting experience for me, though, to sit with 7 Africans and watch a movie about African Americans. We had an interesting discussion afterwards about that.

 

Soon enough, midnight rolled around and it was no longer my birthday. At least not in China. So we all headed back to our homes (a.k.a. dorms) and slept well. (I slept well, anyway. I was worn out after all the unexpected excitement of the day!) But I went home that night feeling very special, very loved, and very much excited about the year that is to come.

You may now kiss the bride

No, don’t worry, I wasn’t the bride. But I did get to see a traditional (Northeast China) Chinese wedding last week! A Chinese friend of mine had an invitation to go to this wedding, because the bride’s mom and his mom are coworkers. But he didn’t know the bride or groom or really anyone else there besides his parents. So he invited me to go along! Of course, I jumped at the chance.

Keeping in mind that China is huge, and so the traditions are pretty diverse in the different areas, I will now go about trying to explain to you what a traditional Northeast China Chinese wedding is like. Difference from the U.S. number 1: Starting time. I had to meet my friend in a different area of the city at 6:30 a.m. Whoa. Didn’t really know that when I jumped at the chance to go. I might not have jumped quite so high if I had realized how early I was going to have to get up. But anyway. So we met about 6:30 a.m. and walked together to the bride’s parents’ house (read: apartment). The bride was there, in her beautiful white dress, getting her hair done. All the guests who were there for the bride were there. Of course, Chinese apartments are not large, so the vast majority of us were actually several stories lower, waiting outside the apartment building. And that’s pretty much what we did: waited. I met some Chinese people who were incredibly surprised to see a foreigner show up. But they all seemed to be tickled to have a foreigner, especially the mother of the bride. She liked me a lot.

Meanwhile, all the guests for the groom were apparently gathering at the apartment that the new couple will be moving in to. The groom and some of his friends had to drive to the girl’s place to go pick her up. This comes from the tradition of a girl being taken away from her own family and joining the groom’s family, although now the “new” residence is actually just for the couple and not the groom’s parents’ place. The groom arrived around 8 a.m. (an hour later than he was expected…) Apparently tradition has it that the bride’s family and friends have to resist the groom before letting him take her away. So the girl by then was sitting on a bed with the bedroom door closed and locked. The groom showed up, and knocked on the bedroom door (since the door to the apartment itself was standing wide open and he had walked right in). “Who is it?” “What do you want?” “No, you can’t come in!” It was fun to watch the bickering back and forth between the bride’s friends and the groom, of course knowing full well that he would eventually be let in. And when he was, the random foreigner was also pushed into the room to be able to see what was going on. Sometimes it’s really convenient to be a foreigner!



In the room, the groom presented the bride with some flowers and asked her to go with him. First she refused, but he managed to convince her. :) Then they had to eat some really really long noodles, symbolizing long life, and eggs, symbolizing fertility.



From there, the groom had to carry a shoeless bride down the several flights of stairs and out to the car waiting outside. In the car, he put her shoes on her. I’m not really sure why she wasn’t allowed to wear shoes out to the car, but apparently that’s the tradition. Maybe it has something to do with when Chinese women had really little feet from binding them, but I don’t know.

While that was going on, the rest of us quickly ran off and climbed into the cars lined up outside, waiting to take us all to the next stop…



Following custom, the groom took his new bride to their new house. Of course, all of us guests of the bride went, too. Upon arrival, the groom’s guests and parents were waiting to welcome the couple with firecrackers (a staple at any happy event in China). The couple went upstairs to the apartment and took some pictures, while the guests were allowed to go in and see the place as well.

I was a little surprised at this point, to realize that we had spent about half an hour being transported up to the new apartment, just to spend about fifteen minutes there. But apparently that’s the tradition. So I just followed my friend back out to the cars, waiting to take us away again, this time to go to the restaurant where the main part of the reception would be held.

Everything that was familiar to me about this wedding was done at the restaurant. The couple came in and walked down an “aisle” in the big hall. Of course there was no pastor, but there was a cheesy MC who apparently has the authority to marry people. But only if he also can entertain the guests. So he would randomly sing weird songs for us and try telling jokes. Perhaps they would have been funnier if I had understood any of them, but whatever. I was just struck by the way China really has no concept of formal, elegant, or classic tastes. During the “ceremony” part of at the restaurant, there was a strobe light going, and the music was mostly oldies love songs. Except the electro version of Canon in D. That was entertaining. Even the way the guests dressed proves the lack of taste: no kidding, there was someone wearing an Adidas track suit. Most people were wearing jeans or any sort of regular daily clothes. Anyway.





The part at the restaurant that resembled the wedding ceremony in the U.S. included some vows, the kiss, the rings, etc. In addition to those things, it also included what reminded me of a Unity Candle… except that they lit a firecracker or sparkler thing instead of a normal candle! And at first I thought it had no religious significance, until they stood back and reverently put their hands together, waiting until the firecracker went out. I didn’t get a very clear explanation about the background of that, so I can’t pass any information along. Sorry.

The couple also had to kowtow (bow) to the parents and to each other, showing respect and reverence. Then they greeted each of the parents, called them Mom and Dad (for the first time – it’s Aunt and Uncle until then), and were presented with red envelopes. Red envelopes are a wedding tradition all across China as far as I know; instead of guests bringing gifts for the new couple, they all come with a red envelope with money inside. Usually the smallest amount would be 200 kuai, something like $30 (although compared to the cost of living, something much more along the lines of $100+). Another perk of being a foreigner: I was told not to bring a red envelope.

After the “ceremony” part at the restaurant, we had what I compared to a regular wedding reception in the U.S. There was tons of food, served Chinese style, of course. Most of the food was meat, which is more expensive so must be served to appear wealthy. The groom’s family is actually the host of this meal, though, and to my surprise doesn’t even get to sit down or eat this food. They were just wandering around the venue talking with people and making the bride’s guests and family feel welcome. The new couple also wandered around, of course, most notably to light a cigarette for every male and any female who smokes, and to give a little trinket to everyone else. Thankfully, I fell into the “everyone else” category.



This picture is simply to prove that I was actually at the wedding. I don’t want you to think that I just got some pictures from the internet and made up all this information for fun. Nope, I was there. The guy wearing the tastefully-chosen blue hoodie and jeans is my friend.

It’s impolite at a Chinese wedding to leave before the bride and groom. But since the whole event started so ridiculously early in the morning, we were out of the restaurant and heading off to our next activities by noon. Wow, what a morning!

My oldest friends in China

Last week, I had the really interesting opportunity to visit a Chinese elderly home. The students from my fellowship organized a day of outreach to various places around the city: two elderly homes, an orphanage, and several *thinking in the upward direction* walks. Twelve of us went to the one elderly home, which happens to be a Buddhist place. Obviously, proselytizing wasn’t so much on the list of kosher things to do while there, although I know there were some good conversations being had nevertheless. 

 

All together, our group saw between 120 and 150 people, and we brought little gifts for each one. (Most of the gift bags had a pair of socks and a little bar of soap, so it was fairly practical and versatile.) I was paired up with a guy from Nigeria who only speaks a few words of Chinese, which meant I was really the one to do most of the communicating. It’s really entertaining to try to talk in a foreign language with old people! But the two of us first went down the hall with probably the sickest people in the facility (most of them bedridden). We finished pretty quickly, since the vast majority of them couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak, or couldn’t do either. That made for pretty limited conversations, regardless of my Chinese ability. :) But it was amazing to see how much a genuine smile can communicate and how touched some of them were.

 

The first lady I met was a hundred years old and has been living there for twenty years! What an interesting life. She was actually quite healthy, at least for being a hundred, so she was sitting up and perfectly capable of communicating with us. The biggest problem with her was that she was still so mentally sharp, she didn’t really care to slow down enough for the foreigners. But we did talk a little about her large collection of Buddhist books that she’s been reading, as well as the vast changes that have taken place in China during her lifetime.

 

Later on, I had the opportunity to meet the oldest person in the facility: a 103-year-old gentleman. He was also sitting up and somewhat communicative, although he slurred his speech a lot more, which made it difficult for me. (Remember, this was all in Chinese. People this old mostly didn’t ever have the opportunity to study English. If they’ve studied a foreign language, it would have been Japanese or Russian.)  But he was eager to take pictures with all the foreigners who had come to see him, and it was fun to talk as much as we could.

 

My favorite lady at the place was a bit younger: 97. But to my great surprise, she was very active and spunky. She and I walked around together a bit, until she told me that I should sit down since my legs were probably getting tired. I told her that I would only sit down if she sat down with me. :) But we talked at some length. She asked me if I missed my mom, and how long it’s been since I’ve seen her. In a sort of sorrowful voice, she advised me that “your mom misses you, even if you don’t miss her.” While I assured her that I do actually miss my mom, I realized that her comments really had nothing to do with me. She was missing her own children. And that’s hard to see, that this lively lady has been living in this facility for some time now because her children won’t take her in (or even visit her there, probably). It was interesting to hear her story, and to reflect on how her story fits into the larger culture here.

 

But I’ll stop here on this topic for now. I’d be happy to share more about my reflections of the larger culture/society and the role of the elderly homes with any of you who are interested. Just ask me after I get back to the U.S. :)