You're tearing up roots and breaking down walls,
and I don't stand a chance at all
against the way you move.
-Audrey Assad, "The Way You Move"
Where does one begin to sort the memories, experience, thoughts, and feelings associated with packing up and living in an unfamiliar country? I was only in Shanghai for two months. In some ways, it feels like it was longer, and in some ways, shorter. Life in Shanghai was... something inexpressible in a word alone. Because of it's size, Shanghai is never quiet. My 6 a.m runs were filled with the zooming of people on scooters on their way to work and the traditional chants sung by men and women doing tai-chi in the park and public square. The walk to school was punctuated by carhorns and bicycle bells. Street vendors haggled with customers for anything from DVDs to scarves to fruits and vegetables. Shanghai is a city of opposites. Old and new mix together, one beside the other. Neatly trimmed hedges and pagoda-style roofs next to 60 story sky-scrapers. People playing the erhu (a traditional Chinese stringed instrument) accompanied by an electric piano. Grandmothers playing in the park with their young grandchildren. Shanghai is also full of rich and poor. Our school, a privately owned school that costs upwards of $30,000 a year for high school students, had government owned, temporary housing for construction workers right next to it. This was a common sight throughout Shanghai.
As for teaching, I loved my students. One of my favorite things about teaching 6th grade is that they still have an innocence about them- they're still just kids who want to go play at recess. They aren't afraid to tell you that, either. An actual conversation between one of my kids and I went like this:
Me: I'm a little concerned with what you still have to write before Friday. I think it would help you a lot if you came in during recess.
him: But, but... it's recess. (tears welling in eyes)
Me: I know you like recess; I know you like playing football with your friends, but this paper is really important.
him: No... I can't miss recess.
But what I loved most about my students was their ability to ask questions. We were studying ancient civilizations, and they asked so many questions about why civilizations failed and how empires began and why they lasted. And when confronted with new ideas, they didn't just take them at face value. Many of them know the story of Jesus and his life and death, but a lot of them don't understand why his life is significant. I felt so blessed to share with them the Gospel! They asked questions like "Why did Jesus have to die? Why couldn't he have a different punishment?" and "Why didn't the disciples believe Jesus when he said he had to die?" Such inquisitive minds!
My students... what a bunch of silly goofballs! I love them.
More than their inquisitive attitudes, they were active in sharing the love of Christ through service projects and serving. The school has many opportunities to spend mornings or afternoons at an orphanage, simply playing with and holding the kids there. My students showed me that God is at work in China.
It seems that my thoughts are quickly becoming muddled in that post-experience mind. As I walked to a farewell party for my friend and I on our last night in China, I found myself wandering how to say goodbye to people and places that have changed the way I see the world. Perhaps, those memories mean I never have to say goodbye.
