quick to listen, slow to speak

Yesterday was defined by dichotomous tasks: talking in the morning and listening in the afternoon. The talking was nothing memorable. I introduced myself and went through the course syllabus and expectations. I never get bored with the variable of students, though; every class has its own fingerprint. But, in general, the first day is relatively smooth and well-rehearsed. Yesterday afternoon, however, I traded in my fatigued voice for a more passive role in unexpected conversations, abiding by the admonition of being, “quick to listen and slow to speak.”

The first came when I was forwarded a message received by my team-mates. It was written by the angry elf and sent to almost everyone in the English department, including the dean, the associate dean, and several others of sizable influence. Because I teach non-English majors, I was not included in the list of recipients. The email was brief but rife with anger. In it, he observed that the curriculum videos he had requested to be put on the school's English language website were not only listed in Chinese but were available for download with Chinese subtitles. While his frustration is understandable, his response is not. He actually referred to what had been done as, “plain stupid,” and ended the rant with a demand in all-caps to take the videos down. I can't imagine that things will end well for him, here – not after publicly insulting the very people responsible for hiring him.

Yikes.

Round two came several hours later while I was walking up a hill to meet a friend. At the corner opposite my dorm, I noticed a guy whom I met in the elevator one evening. He is Asian-American and has committed to a year-long Chinese study here. He smiled and waited up for me. A few strides later, he had begun to share his feelings on the locals. “They're selfish, always trying to talk to foreigners just to practice their English. Always got ulterior motives.”

I was aghast. Even considering the opportunists that do exist here (and everywhere else), I have found Chinese friends to be some of the most loyal and sacrificial of my entire life.

I gave him my best quizzical brow. You don't have many Chinese friends here, do you?

“Nah, not many.”

Not with that perspective, you won't.

“Yeah, but I've lived here for a year and know how they think.” He paused. “How long have you been here?”

This is the beginning of my fourth year.

He sobered up and tried to backpeddle his words, but the impression had already been made. He's not the first Asian-American to be so jaded with his own ethnicity. A few minutes later, he mentioned having a friend in the area who is also an American – a female teacher – who is struggling with culture shock. She's from North Carolina. He asked if he could put her in touch with me. For her sake, I said yes. I don't like the thought of a single female feeling so alone in this city – moreover, a southerner who actually knows that one doesn't order a bowl of grits according to individual grit count. I also want her to see a more holy representation of living a transplanted life here.

The third lesson in listening was delivered to me by way of none other than StoneCold. Some weeks ago, I had taken a raincheck on his offer to go walking after a heavy meal of hamburgers. I was just too tired. I didn't forget my promise, though, and was actually on my way to meet him when I had the unexpected encounter with the Asian-American mentioned above. We made the circuit outlining the entire campus - at least a 45 minute walk past dorms, basketball courts, the library, the main building, the dining halls, the gym and then back toward my dorm. As we passed underneath branches overhanging the sidewalk, he spoke of his desire to see China step out of the shadows of dominant countries that have always led it like a muzzled ox. I didn't have to ask which country might be the foremost offensive in his mind. Instead, I reminded him that the time of world dominion by a single culture is over. "The age of an ethno-geographical empire is no more, especially with world cultures being irretrievably linked by economies and social networking. The only empire on this earth that I now know is the empire of technology. It rules and it conquers and it absorbs generations into its kingdom. It has become a deity, worshiped and proclaimed, especially by our generations. I mean, can you imagine what would happen to the students here if their cell phones and computers were taken away? It would be chaos." StoneCold lifted his face in illuminated understanding and smiled.

Whenever he does that regarding some observation I have voiced, I know that I have won another square foot of respect and favor in his life. It is the Spirit within me granting wisdom in such moments, and to have three of them in one day is worth commemorating.

IKEA shelves and angry elves

Mankind is fascinating. Living abroad constantly strips me of boredom of my own species. And the IKEA found in Beijing - the second largest in the world - is a place where I go (when I'm in town) to spend equal parts shopping and observing the surplus of human behavior.


Beijing locals go there for reasons other than people-watching or finding a Scandinavian bookshelf. They make the journey largely because it's a free way to escape the heat and smog of the city, and the maze of display beds, chairs and sofas just begs for weary occupants.


Yes, they go there to sleep.


They also take advantage of the pre-fabricated rooms that provide complimentary backdrops for family photos.

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Over 1,200 miles northeast of Beijing, I have found human behavior just as intriguing. This time, though, it involves a newcomer to our foreign instructor group. He's not affiliated with me, my team or our organization; he's independent. He comes from a legal background and seems to apply the aggression intrinsic to that profession to his current position. He has not come here without controversy, and his demeanor has already caused major tension among some in his department. On more than one occasion this week, my team and I have had to comfort his walking wounded after heated confrontation. When I found out that he had assailed another foreign instructor in front of department supervisors (most being Chinese), I was immediately grieved. He is an ex-pat with whom I am embarrassed to share a nationality. I found out that he has multiple marriages and estranged children whose numbers exhaust fingers on both hands. Thanks to the internet, I also found out that his questionable past followed him through various parts of the world and is now archived and available for anyone who plugs in the right search words. Considering his access to court documents, I am wondering if and/or how much information he has already had expunged from public record.

At this point, what I see is a man whose venomous outbursts just don't match up to the offenses that incur them. He is also quite short, so I have begun referring to him as "the angry elf." With his stature playing off of salt and pepper hair and a matching beard, he really does look like he could secretly steal into a cobbler's shop and make leather shoes all night. I realize that I may have to repent for thinking of him that way and especially for sharing it.

Keep him in thought. He must be a miserable wreck inside. Keep us in thought, as we wait and watch to see what will happen. Keep our newest team-mates in thought, as well. Their first week here has not been without incident, and it so happens that one of them is working alongside the angry elf.

It is no coincidence that a man as tormented as he must be has been placed right in the midst of so many light-bearers. This semester will be an exceptionally memorable one.