Two weeks of my Chinese odyssey has gone by, and it included my first week of teaching. I must say, these are the most diligent, polite and respectful students I have ever met. From what I have experienced so far, its been fantastic. Im, starting to grow very fond of them. If this was South Africa, kids will be strolling in ten minutes after class started without as much as an apology. In SA we just accept such behaviour. In China, they loathe it.
The students, between 19 and 21 years old, are attentive and helpful. I want to learn Mandarin, so a student offered her time to do so. And she chose to teach me for an hour within the two hour lunch break.
But such characteristics are not only part of the students but pervades through Chinese the entire Nanjing society. Last Saturday night, I was caught by the heavy downpour while I was exploring the city. Luckily I bought an umbrella on the way. So I saw a tiny shop open in the middle of nowhere and decided to ask for directions. Of course the shopkeeper and I were unable to understand one another and then when we both gave up, he told me to have a seat and watch a movie with him, which he was doing on a portable DVD player.
Then when the rain eased up, I decided to continue my exploration, only to realize I was lost. One thing I learned here is that the streets are not linked like they are in SA.
And just as I had that realization, the rain came down again. I walked on till I saw a man struggling to start his scooter. So I went up to him and covered him with my umbrella. I noticed a young man, probably around 30 years old.
"Oh, thank you, thank you,” he said.
Ok, at least he spoke a bit of English.
“You very kind,” he said.
I was feeling a little more comfortable with those familiar English words.
We walked on and spoke until we crossed some bridge. He, too, realized I was lost. He asked if I needed help. I, being proud, said no.
“You don't walk around here till late,” he said. “Is not good.”
“I'll be fine. I will find my way,” I said.
“Come stay by me, then you leave tomorrow morning.”
“No, it's okay. Don't worry,” I said, growing annoyed.
He persisted.
“Okay, I call my friend. She speak English. She help you.”
The friend couldn't help much. And so he invited me to stay at his home again and persisted once more until he saw a bunch of cop cars outside a KFC.
“Wait, wait. I get help.” He walked across the road to the KFC. I tailed him, telling him to drop it and not to worry. But he didn't listen. His sole purpose at that moment was to find help for me.
I got a little angry at the guy.
Eventually, he brought one of the cops. Thankfully, he could speak English so he asked where I needed to go.
“Nanjing Railway College.”
“Do you know the name of the road?”
“I think it's Jian Ling Road.”
The copper stood there stumped. Upon seeing his expression, a half a dozen more cops came to us, surrounding me. I felt like a perp. But their faces all showed that they were willing to help.
Then when they figured out the street's name, they laughed at me. I was pronouncing it wrong. I was getting used to being laughed at, being the ass of their jokes.
So they called their department, got the address and wrote it on a piece of paper.
The gentleman who initially got help for me, waved for a taxi, made sure the driver knew where to go and let me go safely.
Just before I jumped in he kept on asking whether I would be fine. I assured him I would.
Finally, the taxi took off and in fifteen minutes, I got to my apartment. But that's how they are. Extremely helpful, generous and humane.
I think it's got something to do with the philosophies of Confucius (Kung-Fu-Tzu in Chinese) and Lao Tze. Their teachings are the bedrock of Chinese civilization and has been so for over last 2,500 years. They preached of values and morals, mostly respect for the fellow human and respect for your parents. They believed there was a natural instinct to distinguish right from wrong and that we all tilted to the right way of life. Not even dire circumstances could make a person turn into an evil being. They believed in a fair government (during their time there were imperial kings ruling) and they also lived by the fact that they, as individuals, were insignificant and were only a small cog that was part of a bigger scheme. It's evident in how the Chinese see their age. They each have an individual birth date, but every single Chinese's age only changes in the auspicious Spring Festival. Though I may have turned 26 in July this year in Western terms, The Chinese would still say I'’m 25, and that I will turn 26 next February, during this festival. So they’re all one and the same. One Chinese working for the sake of China.
This morning I woke up thinking of all the people I love back home in SA. From my friends to my family. I started thinking of what my colleagues have been telling me. That it can get lonely.
What spurred my thoughts was what Brendan, a fellow teacher from Australia, asked last night when we went out to the bar.
"Would you be able to handle a whole year?" he asked, while we walked around the streets.
I thought I could. And I suppose I can. I have stayed in Gauteng before. Alone but not lonely. I never grew lonely before.
But at least I got to see my friends and family in Joburg. I got to trek back to East London when I wanted to see my folks and siblings. But in China, I wouldn’t see anybody for a year. An entire year！
I wouldn’t be able to irritate Deepa, swap stories of our schooldays with Anesh, or have a profound conversation with Vinay. I would be able to make gat with Amit and Sanjay, play football with the Ouens in Joburg. I won't be able to drive around with my father delivering pies every morning or be able to feel my mothers hands against my back when she rubs it. I won't be able to spin by Tarun and joke around with him or laugh when I see Kavi with that broad jerk off smile. Popping by Ritz at Plaza Stationers will only be done through my memories. I won't be able to smoke sheesha with Priya nor would I be able to share a glass of wine with Binaica. I won't be able to squeeze Varsha's cheeks nor would I be able to go shopping with her.
ALL FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR! OR MORE! WHO KNOWS!
I realized what Brendan meant. It was a daunting thought. I'm surrounded by people who can't speak the same language as me.
“That's one of the things that can make it lonesome,” said Brendan.
It's not like you can have a chat to the person sitting next to you on the bus, the way I used to do in Joburg. TV is basically obsolete as there is nothing that a foreigner in my situatiion could be interested in.
So Brendan had a point. It struck me more when we went to Castle Bar, a place where most of Nanjing's foreigners go to have a drink, talk and relax.
Whitney, another colleague from Uzbekistan also suffers from loneliness at times but keeps herself occupied with the work we do.
But then again, isn't part of an adventure the acceptance of being alone. Overcoming loneliness through the act of learning. Ultimately, learning is what combats loneliness. I read a book titled “The Adventurer,” by Paul Zweig, and he mentions the same thing. Odysseus, Homer's hero in Greek myth, accepted that loneliness is part of the hero's journey. It's what strengthens the person. The same statement was made by Joseph Campbell too.
Loneliness, or being alone, is not something that should deplete a person but rather transcend them to a higher consciousness. This is when we can spend the most time reflecting on whatever we want.
Not only those who lived abroad experienced loneliness but even those East Londoners who left for Joburg. We all had our bouts of loneliness. We just found ways to work around it. And it helped us in the long run.
Like my friends, who are abroad now, are realizing that it's family and friends back home who matter most to us. Saffiyah in Italy has just mentioned it to me, Priya in London has always thought so from the first day she arrived there (you can check her blog at chocomumbojumbo.blogspot.com) and Sumayya, also in London, seems to be slowly realizing it too. She calls it confusion and perhaps feels a bit of emptiness now. But when our travels end and we return home, we will always look back at our experience as one of the greatest we ever had. Mainly because it was life altering. It shifted our paradigms.
No matter how much we change on our journeys and no matter how long it was since we last spoke to our loved ones, we always lend a thought to them at least once a day, whether it be in our hearts, memories or prayers. Our family and friends are always tagging along with us in our hero's journey.
