Independence

September 8, 2013

I think I have found my big culture shock issue.  It’s not the
spitting, or the public urination, or the insane traffic, or the bones
in the food, or any of the other daily nuisances that I heard other
expats complain about in their blogs. For me, it is the utter lack of
independence I have been allowed since coming to Yuncheng.

My school was nice enough to arrange for me to have a teaching
assistant, Mary. Mary is really nice and helpful, and she lives just
across the courtyard from me. She helped me buy my cell phone and she
bargains for a good price on our food. But she is new at this job, and
takes it very seriously, which means she is extremely protective. I
have taken to standing at least an arm’s distance away when we cross
the street, otherwise she will hold my hand. I tried to make myself
believe it’s because she was nervous about crossing, but really that’s
utter bull.

This protectiveness goes beyond my assistant to my waiban as well. My
waiban is kind of like the person in charge of foreign teachers. She
helps me get Internet (somewhat unsuccessfully thus far) and all those
sorts of household things.  So, I need to go to Xi’an tomorrow to do
some things with my bank. No big deal, right? Get my assistant to help
me buy a ticket, hop on a train, do my thing, come back, done. Boy was
I wrong. My waiban is convinced that I won’t be able to navigate the
train system on my own, and I think she might have threatened my
assistant with hellfire if something goes wrong. So now I have two
very worried Chinese women telling me not to go to Xi’an. Some of
their advice is very helpful. They have written instruction in Chinese
for me to show cab drivers, random passersby, and train officials in
case I get lost. I have every sort of language safeguard possible, but
they are still convinced I won’t be able to navigate everything.

It makes me wonder if it’s sexism more than protectiveness. If I were
a man, I don’t think the same sort of fuss would be made over a simple
train and taxi combo. Good Chinese girls don’t travel hundreds of
miles alone. Nor do they drink whiskey, as my scandalized assistant
pointed out.

Somehow though, I think it goes beyond that, at least as far as Mary
is concerned. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks her job is to be my
caretaker of sorts, because she certainly acts like it. She wakes me
up in the morning and acts concerned when I don’t go to sleep when she
does. She even refused to let me help cook dinner last night, even
though I told her I would cook. I had to hold my tongue when I was cut
out of this simple pleasure. Cooking is something I am good at in all
languages, and it is a soothing activity for me.  I was really looking
forward to having a comforting and familiar part to my routing, but I
even had to fight to do the dishes. One of these days, I will have to
tie her to a chair and make her watch me cook. I won’t burn anything
down, I promise.

I think a lot of this is my fault. I am allowing myself to be coddled
because I don’t want to offend anyone. Well, this approach has gotten
me nowhere but frustrated and bored from inactivity. And I already
insulted my waiban by not asking her to come to Xi’an with me.  Time
to take control of my situation. I am not a child and I won’t be
treated as such, no matter how well-intentioned the treatment is. If I
keep letting this happen, I will run home screaming. No more.

And it just started raining!!!

Later the same day…

I have an addendum to previous comments on the state of Yuncheng.
Yuncheng, it turns out, is a county and not just a city. I am living
in LinYi, which is a village/suburb about 40 minutes away from
Yuncheng proper. There are lots of these suburb-type areas, and when
Ameson told us we would be going to Yuncheng, they meant the county
and not the city. I have a feeling this omission was more than a
little on purpose, but oh well.

I went to WanRong to visit Mary’s family today. They are incredibly
warm and welcoming people. Her mother, Mama Li, as I have taken to
calling her in my head, immediately decided to adopt me and sent me
home with a gigantic bag of food. Dontcha just love moms?

Anyway, WanRong is a much bigger suburb than LinYi. It verges on its
own urban area. There is a lot more happening in WanRong. It’s closer
to the level of activity I saw in Yuncheng city when I went out with
the expats the other night. It’s still very isolated, and people still
stare and point at me in the street, but it has real oomph. My
assistant confessed to me that she is not too thrilled to live
somewhere as boring as LinYi. It’s much poorer, dirtier, and quieter
than WanRong. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one less than stoked
on this neighborhood.