It Came as a Surprise: Part 2

"Everyone stand up, push in your chairs, and line up!"  Then I said for my own benefit, "We are going on a mini-field trip."
We walked out of the classroom, and down the hall about 20 feet to the reception desk.  I pointed out a medium-sized, yellow box on top of the desk.  (This past month, Yew Wah had been asking for donations of clothing and school supplies to hand out to the students in a poorer village of Qufu.  A small group of Yew Wah high school students and teachers were to travel there soon to spend time at the school and interact with the students and teachers there.)
In the few minutes that remained, my co-teacher and I gave a quick, bilingual mini-lesson about our partner school in Qufu, and what the donation box meant.  We explained that they could show compassion by choosing some items to donate to the students of the Qufu school.  I looked at the students' faces when we finished, hoping to see some sort of understanding.
Still blank looks.

I finished that day feeling disheartened, and slightly concerned about these future policy-makers, businessmen, and leaders.  Yes, there was still time for them to learn, but would they?

My question was soon answered.  On Wednesday, then Thursday, and even on Friday, our students brought stuffed animals, clothing, pencils, books, and other donations for the students in Qufu.  It really came as a surprise after that cricket-producing lesson on Tuesday.  My heart was very much warmed.  Yes, there still was plenty of time. 

It Came as a Surprise

One thing about Yew Wah that sets it apart from many other schools in China is that it has a Character Education program.  Each month is labeled with one particular character trait (e.g. honesty, charity). The students' homeroom teachers take one lesson each week and devote it to teaching about the monthly trait.    This month of December, the character trait is "compassion."

The last week before the holiday, the Grade 1B homeroom teacher, my co-teacher and I each taught a part of the lesson on compassion.  When it came for our turn, my co-teacher and I shared pictures of people showing compassion towards one another.  To clarify, we acted some of the pictures out, and explained others both in Chinese and English.  Afterwards, we began a discussion with the question, "What is compassion?"  We asked the question in both languages, and explained to students that during this time, they were free to speak in Chinese or English.  Two students were eager to share many stories and tell us what they thought about it all.  As for the other students?  Crickets.
I began a slightly new train of thought, and asked my co-teacher to translate.  "Do all students in China have good clothes, good pencils, and nice pencil cases?"
The majority of the class replied, "You [yoh]" (Extended meaning: "[They] do have.")

I was stunned for a moment.  They think everyone is like themselves!  After taking a deep breath, I recovered my mental footing, and made one last effort.

To be continued in Part 2...

"...a Chinese man?"

One of the lessons I consistently strive to impress upon my students is that "Everyone is different."  To extend this theme, I try to choose pictures of people from all over the world when a lesson presentation requires a picture of a person.  One such day I chose a picture of a woman who had black hair and blue eyes.  This photo must have been especially mysterious to one of my students, for during the last English lesson of the day, she interrupted her small reading group to ask about the woman. 
"Why she has black hair and blue eyes?"
Alright!  I though.  Another teachable moment!  "Every one is different, right?"
"But Teacher..."
"My mom has red hair and green eyes!  And my brother has red hair and..."
"Ohhh, she use the..." she stopped to fill in the blank by miming someone dying her hair.
"No, my mom has always had red hair."
She looked quizzical.  "Oh."
I continued, "And my dad has black hair and blue eyes!"
Her face lit up with understanding.  "OHH!  Because he's a Chinese man!"

White Elephant Gift Exchange

We are off for vacation! 

Our Christmas break is from Sat Dec 15th - Wed Jan 2nd.  After that, we have school for about 28 days, and then we have the ENTIRE month of February off! We are looking forward to doing nothing as much as possible.

Last night we had a small Christmas party, with drinks, dessert, and snacks.  We invited all of the teachers who were still in town (some had left ASAP Friday afternoon).  What was really cool is that we got to explain how a White Elephant Gift Exchange works to a couple of teachers from the Philippines, Britain, Korea, and China.  I mean, how often do you find someone who has not heard of the game?

Anyway, we set a limit of 50RMB (~$9), and set to exchanging.  I got #1.  I looked at the pile of gifts, and I spied a small box with neat handwriting on it which said "Please Read Description." Now, I like small boxes because they usually are very funny, unassuming, and worth it, despite being small.  

As I looked at this box, once I unwrapped it, I struggled to find out what it was.  I shall now transcribe the story which was written on the box.

"In the 15th century, the Welsh country in the United Kingdom, there were a childhood sweetheart. The Boy grew up to be a heroic knight, following the King around the campaign, never to return. The girl was all day singing "You are my max," waiting for the boy's return. Since then, "her max" has become synonymous with the best boyfriend and spread so far ...

Can you guess what the item is?

Anyone?

That's right!  HerMax brand condoms!  Buy HerMax, a brand dating back to 15th Century Wales, become the best boyfriend, and die is some pointless English crusade! Only 50RMB!

   

My Monkey Hat

It is amazing what a sock monkey hat can do.
Huh?
Yes, you read that correctly.  A sock monkey hat. 
I espied the hat in question at our local, crumbling mall called DeSheng.  Of course, there are newer, fancier malls right down the same street as DeSheng, but DeSheng has its own funky flavor, which I enjoy.  It is a 3-story yellow building, perhaps built in the 80s or early 90s, and designed to look like an old (Roman?  European?) structure.  It is complete with a mismash of stone elephant and Roman deity sculptures, and tall columns that rise to the Parthenon-like facade.  Inside DeSheng, you can find practically anything in the old, dingy shops, and can try to barter the price down (unlike at the local supermarket). 
Now that winter has arrived, many of the shops have rotated their stock to winter gear: hats, scarves, gloves, face masks, and other peculiar yet logical winter gear only to be found in China.  In the children's section of one such shop, amongst many other cute and playful things, I found my sock monkey hat.  After pretending not to be so interested in the hat, taking another tour 'round DeSheng, and returning to barter with the shop owner, I proudly took that hat home with me. 

Prior to wearing the hat, I was stared at constantly because I am a foreigner.  Children on the street, in the supermarket, and in the elevator either were shy and scared, or bubbly and curious.  More times than not, they were shy and scared in seeing someone different.
Now, the times that I wear my sock monkey hat, these reactions have changed.  Yes, I am still stared at, but now it is with a smile and friendly amusement; additionally, people will talk about the hat rather than just the fact that I am a foreigner.  Children who used to shy away in fright are now curious about this strange person wearing a funny hat, and they have ceased to shrink behind their mothers, fathers, or grandparents. 

 I much prefer to be stared at with a smile.  I think that my new hat is working out well for me!  

China--go big or go home!

Besides the large population of people you see everywhere, I am constantly finding these giants in the local markets...

(Regular-sized bottle of Tsingtao beer, squash, and a honey pomelo) 

Sunday Afternoon

On an unusually peaceful Sunday afternoon...

A flute player wandered into our little village.  He wore a backpack, shabby clothing, walked with the aid of 2 crutches... and played such an entrancing strain.  I spied upon him from my window.  What was he doing?  From my observations, I could not tell you.  He simply walked through, playing his flute.
I hope that you enjoy his music as much as I did.

Back in China

      As we crested the hill in our rented Ford Focus, the view of sprawling Los Angeles gave me the impression that we were driving into China.  After weeks spent just getting used to the quiet and slower-moving crowds, we were on our way back.  Back to China. 
     That moment was over a week ago.  I am currently sitting in our sixth-floor apartment (but you have to press "7" on the elevator!), and thinking about this transition.  On the flight over, I did not feel that it was another momentous occasion--just another 12-hour flight that we would be taking to get where we were going.  Only, I didn't really, REALLY take the time to realize where we were going.  I was in autopilot mode---just going.  And we happened to be headed to China at the moment.
   Minus the monsoonal rains that poured down as we waited on the tarmac of Beijing Airport-delaying our midnight flight to Yantai- the trip went off without a hitch.  We were met at the Yantai Airport by our friend's trusty driver, George, who deposited us safely at the doorstep of our apartment building.  We crawled into bed at 2:30 in the morning, and we were officially "back."

     While Zach was very happy to be back, and was handling the transition well, I experienced feelings that I had not been expecting.  I had thought that I would slide right back in to life in China, and be rejoicing all the way that I did not have to figure all this out again.  But it seems that without the distraction of novelty, feelings of displacement, loneliness, and "otherness" crept into my mind...especially in hearing the words for "American," "foreigner," and "them" right and left while walking by.  It was also very difficult, this time, to accept being stared at everywhere we went.  My thoughts became so anxious that I knew I was heading down an unhealthy mental road--especially for expats.  Rather than being holed up at home and holed up in my mind, I needed to get out. 
     Zach and I took a walk down a sleepy, tree-lined street to the beach that afternoon.  We talked about everything I was feeling as we strolled along the sidewalk and the sand.  By the end of the walk, something in my mind had changed, and I finally felt "safely back" in China.  The stares continued as we walked along, but I took them in stride.  I believe that the antidote for what I was feeling was the very cause of my irrational fear.  I needed to get back out there and experience China.  To just allow myself to "be" in China.  And of course I cannot end this conclusion without saying that I also needed my best friend to talk me through it.  Thank you, Zachariah.

   We are both safely back in China,
    and the school year is just about to begin...
...but that is a whole other crazy barrel of monkeys.

P.S.  "...I took them in stride."  Get it?   

7 Weeks Left ...

Its been a long hard road!

Currently, we have only about 6 weeks of instruction left in the semester.  Add to that one week of finals, and one week of extra activities, and we are done soon!

I have been given a gift of 8 extra classes, courtesy of a teacher who left abruptly.  Leaving China can be as difficult as entering China, so some teachers who cannot hack it (or want to leave early because their contract was not renewed for the next year) leave suddenly and without telling anyone.

Leaving suddenly can get you prohibited from working in China again and having to leave a bunch of stuff, not to mention generating a bad reference and wasting 2 years of teaching.

This particular teacher's contract was not renewed, and he left over the weekend.  Some of us subbed for him Monday and Tuesday, and Wednesday it was made official: he has left the country.  So, we have his classes now.  Sigh, this a a lot of work.  But, the 8th and 9th grade ICT classes are pretty good, and I had them last semester so we can just continue what we were working on.


Here is a link to some pictures I have taken around Yew Wah.

Around Yew Wah

Around our Apartment



Enjoy!

The Great Wall

I still cannot believe it. I have grown up seeing pictures of this world wonder—one that was only accessible to me through visual media. But today, that all changed. I walked across the Great Wall.

We hired a tour guide who met us at our hotel with transportation at 9 a.m., and were whisked away one and a half hours outside the city to the Wall. We drove through poor villages, beautiful farmland that reminded us so much of the Central Valley of California. As we got closer to our destination, another area with a poor village on one side of the street, and vacation homes on the other. This really highlighted one truth of China: that while one street can separate the two, the gap between the rich and poor is, in reality, vast. As our van wove through more countryside spotted with Chinese tourist traps, and further up into the mountains, we spotted it. High upon the ridges wove the Great Wall itself.

Due to the amount of traffic (think Grand Canyon National Park), we hopped out of our van as we neared our destination. After short hike up part of the hill, a short pit stop (thank goodness I had brought my own TP…the restroom had run out!), we purchased our tickets for the gondola, which would ferry us the rest of the way up the mountain. You can choose to hike up to the Wall, but today we chose to gondola it in order to save some time, because we planned on visiting the Summer Palace also this day. The mountains here are very steep, and we were definitely grateful for the gondolas! After a short ride--and no incidents--we were there. Touching and walking on the stones of the ancient Great Wall.

I still do not know if I can believe that I was actually there. The view of the Great Wall was extensive and breathtaking…yet I was walking upon its stones, and climbing its guard towers! It seems so surreal…as if the glass surrounding historical artifacts in a museum suddenly melted away, and all the patrons began to handle the artifacts and make use of them. This is a national treasure of China…and I was allowed to dirty it with my shoes and with the corrosive oil from my hands!

Highlights and interesting moments from the day

· Beijing is very different than Shanghai! Even though Shanghai has a denser population, Beijing seems crowded just about everywhere you go. ESPECIALLY in the subways. That has been a shock! Our subway trips have already been an adventure of sorts…an adventure to another place where these things happen…

o …our subway car’s doors cannot close, because a few people are half in, half out, trying to squeeze in. A Beijing Subway staff member, who earlier had been directing people around the platform with a bullhorn, walks over and pushes those people in—packing the whole subway car like a can of sardines. Yes, this was our first experience of professional subway pushers!

o …we begin walking to get into the subway car, but the force of the pushing from the great mass of those behind us half-carries, half-squeezes us into the car. Ai ya!

· We visited the Capital Museum, the architecture of which is astounding! My favorite exhibit of all was the ancient paintings. What struck me about many of these paintings was the level of honesty and reality they were given. Many were portraits of emperors and high-ranking officials, and when I looked into their painted faces, I could see the real person. I saw scraggly beards, one droopy eye, large eyes, almond eyes, and fat cheeks. This honesty really touched me—why exactly, I am not completely sure—but perhaps it was because these paintings portrayed people who were once flesh and blood, and human. Not cold, stone, unmoving statues.

• For dinner, we ate at Peter’s Tex Mex Restaurant. It was the first Mexican food that we have had (not made by ourselves) in a long time now. Eating those burritos, fajitas, enchiladas, chimichangas, tacos, and listening to mariachi music, I think we all found ourselves transported outside of China for the evening. It was a lovely mini-vacation within our vacation, and I think that we might be back for another before returning to Yantai.

Arrival in Beijing!

We are so excited to be here in Beijing! Getting here took longer than we expected (mostly due to the fact that our one-hour flight was delayed for almost an hour), but we are here! We are staying in the lovely Inner Mongolia Grand Hotel that is a stone’s throw from Tian An Men Square and the Forbidden City (okay, that is an exaggeration, but we are CLOSE!) Besides the proximity to these famous locations, our hotel also has soft beds! This is an oddity for China, even for hotels in China. Oh my goodness…we have not slept in a soft bed in 8 months (minus the week in the Philippines), and it is soooooooo comfortable. J We are very happy to be here, and are so excited for all of the amazing sights that we will be seeing.

One thing about Jia Jia Yue

Finally, the weather is beginning to warm up! It was a beautiful sunny day, complete with blue sky. Today we took our usual Saturday 2-mile walk down the road to check out the new DVDs at our friendly DVD shop, and check out the pastries at the popular Korean bakery, Panamie. One DVD, a couple of pastries, (and two coffees for Zach) later, we squeezed onto the bus to head back towards home. We stepped off the bus next to Jia Jia Yue (pronounced "jah-jah yu-ay"), our local supermarket, to get a few items before completing the circuit back home.

One thing about Jia Jia Yue is that no matter what time of the day you go there, the staff is always restocking or rearranging the store. You have to navigate around boxes and carts and the busy staff members in the narrow aisles. Today was no different. :-) Zach and I were going to the second floor of the store to get some cleaning items first. However, barring our way to the escalator was a most amusing sight. On the first floor, one worker was unloading a pallet of boxes of beer, and sending them--box by box--up the escalator to another worker waiting on the second floor. It was a little, orderly parade of green boxes of Tsingtao and Yantai beer ascending up the escalator. My imagination supplied some tinkly circus music to accompany this curious spectacle, and I just had to let out a good-natured laugh. It was one of those common, everyday goings-on that, at the right moment, can be so uncommonly funny!

Kite Day!

Every "Spring" (it's still cold here!) the students of Yew Wah walk down Tianshan Lu in a great parade of flags and kites toward the beach. (Except for Grade 1 and 2, who get to take the bus on account of their short, little legs!) Many of the students have been working on designing and decorating their own kites in their art classes for this day. There is a competition for the (handmade) kite that flies the highest. Of course, in addition to the humble handmade kites, mothers have made sure to send their children with the biggest and best store-bought kites for this day. Many of which ended up being carried by we, the Grade 1 teachers, as some were as large or larger than the students themselves!
Rain was forecast, but when the day arrived, we were met by beautiful blue skies (not gray!) and a promising breeze. We took a short drive in our small school bus down Tianshan Lu, and tumbled out onto the large sidewalk above the beach. We walked down the stairs to the sand, traversed a small downwards slope of sand with much nervous squealing by the girls, walked through a break in the sand screen, and emerged onto the beach.
Immediately, a chorus of well-spoken "Can you help me"s from my students filled the air. (This is a question that we recently learned in English class, which my students have really found a use for lately!) Thankfully, we had a beautiful wind, and the students' kites (with their teachers' help) rose up into the air with very little effort, and no running starts. You simply had to release them, and they flew as if they were airborne fish on a line fighting to sail deeper into an ocean of sky.
It was a happy and amusing afternoon to say the least. Left to their own devices, many the first graders ran every which direction, and got tangled up in each others' kites again and again. We just laughed together every time this happened, and did our best to help each other figure out the complicated mess of kite strings. We laughed as one kite escaped and I took off down the beach to chase it down. We laughed together when my coteacher found herself trapped in a tangle of string (how that happened, not even she knew!) The teachers chuckled together when our students tired out and found employment elsewhere...working together to bury volunteers in the sand. We smiled at one group of determined students who began helping each other, working hard to get their kites back into the air. These students just laughed together when their kites chose to careen back to the ground rather than maintain their height. Everyone was happily exhausted by the end of the afternoon. We all carried back a piece of that beach day with us in our hearts--and in our shoes.

More than I can chew?

Monday I was called into the principal's office. I was asked to drop in after school when I had time. That left me anxious and in wonder at just what had I done for that school afternoon. When I stepped into her office, the principal and I sat down into the comfy chairs of the seating area, and she began, "We have a problem." This was it. I WAS in trouble. But what had I done?
Following this statement was an explanation that instantly dissolved my fears.

But first, I must give you a bit of background story. Our third grade English teacher, after much thinking and consideration, had decided that it was best for her and her husband to move back to California. They are expecting a baby, and decided that having the baby in Yantai was going to be too difficult (for many reasons). They were going to move back home this Wednesday.

Now we return back to the office.
The principal explained that the school had interviewed and offered the third grade position to a teacher from (somewhere--I didn't ask); however, that teacher had not decided whether he/she wanted to accept the position. Leaving Grade 3 English in limbo. Of course Grade 3 English does have its excellent, bilingual co-teacher still teaching the students during this time, but the parents are unnerved and unhappy about there being no native speaker in the classroom. This is where I was to come in, the principal explained, if I was willing to help out. It would be just teaching three more classes a day-- for topics like speaking, writing, and grammar. The bilingual teacher and another teacher would take care of the rest. And hopefully this would only be for a month.

Man, I hope she is right.

I agreed to help. It didn't sound too difficult outright.
Now, however, Thursday evening, after trying to last-minute plan for the remaining classes this week for Grade 3, keep up with my own Grade 1 classes, and fulfill other obligations, I am tired. It's not so much a physical tired (although that is present) as mental tiredness. At work I feel that I cannot turn my brain off. Today I put my head down on my cool desk for a moment to rest, but knew that I had to keep going, and popped back up again after 30 seconds. (Forgive me, it is not my intention to throw a pity party with this post. Just adding some imagery to make this better writing.) I know that I will make it through, and that I can do this. I think I can, anyway. I tell myself that it will be better after this weekend when I have time to plan for these new classes.
.........Right?

Gray Skies and Winter Blues

While I am ever-thankful to have a job that well-provides, and for that job to be teaching, living here abroad, in Yantai, can be difficult at times. Especially now. The winters in Yantai are long, and cold. The skies are often gray, obscuring the sun in the blurry haze. It is depressing for many of us.
However, today, to circumnavigate this depression of spirits, I have decided to make a list of some of the things I am thankful for and the things that brighten such days as this.

1. (As I mentioned already) I am working, and working in the field I enjoy and prepared for.
2. Mangoes! It is mango season, and the short distance between China and the Philippines means that these mangoes are rich and delicious!
3. Great reads, such as The Hunger Games trilogy, which may be attended to more faithfully during the cold weather that keeps one inside.
4. The days when we do have blue skies.
   
5. My amazing and wonderful students.
6. That Zach and I are here together.
7. For my loving family back at home.
8. For God's living water, freely given if I just but ask Him.
   

Every teacher has his or her favorite

While I adore each of my students, there always is at least one student in every class that holds a special place in a teacher's heart. This is a little memory of one such student from my own class.

After Spring Festival, rather than the weather beginning to warm up, the weather has dropped below freezing again. Yesterday we were finally rewarded for our endurance of such frigid conditions by a flurry of snow. After the school day ended, the skies were especially captivating with the gray and white clouds speeding by, and many different kinds of snow beginning and ending as each cloud passed over. It was this phenomenon of the snow's sudden beginnings and endings that precipitated the first of my student's questions. We were both leaning on the back counter of the classroom watching the snow whilst working on other things; I, lesson-planning for the following week, and he, carefully cutting out a picture of a caribou that he had not finished during class. Observing the latest burst of snow from the moving clouds above, he asked with a mixture of English and sound effects, "Why the snow, no snow, snow, no snow?!" Rejoicing in receiving some part-time work, the memory brain cells devoted to all things climatological relayed the needed information to their coworkers in the teaching and language sectors of the brain...and together conjured up an simplified explanation that I hoped my inquisitive, first grade student would understand. After a moment of thought, his face brightened and he asked a clarifying question, which confirmed to me that he got it.

Abandoning the unfinished caribou, the student began another line of questioning about polar bears. We had been learning about polar animals and how they stay warm for the past couple of days in class, and I had forgotten to answer one question this student had during class time. He looked at the world map, hanging at child-height to his left, and brought up the question again. "Polar bears?" he asked, pointing at Antarctica. I confirmed that was a "polar habitat," but that polar bears lived in the north, motioning on the map to far-northern Canada, Alaska, Russia, and Greenland.
"Why here and not here?" he asked, pointing at more southerly locations.
"Because polar bears need the ice and snow all the time."
"Why?"
I crouched down to the ground, and mimicked the polar bear stalking seals on the ice, as the polar bear had in the film we watched in class. "The polar bear needs ice to walk on, so he can catch seals to eat." The look on his face told me he was getting it, thank goodness! (I always feel very silly during the times when I act things out to students, and their faces still say, "Huh?") "Remember?"
"Ahh!" and added, "And people!"
I didn't deny this fact, because polar bears really will eat people if given the opportunity. "If you ever see a polar bear, RUN and hide!" We chuckled at this, and he proceeded to ask with more English/motions/sound effects if polar bears ever walked down to southern Canada and America and scare people there. "No!" I said, laughing together with him, and explained again that it would be too hot for polar bears in those places.
After a hour of talking and very little work done, these are the topics we covered:

• Identification of some more countries on the map, including America, where I live;
• Denial again that polar bears walk down to America;
• After looking through the new books from the library I placed on our class bookshelf, and finding a book about snowmen that come alive at night, (1) why the snowmen can move; and, (2-?) answering questions about pictures from almost every page of the book;
• What was I looking at on the computer, and why...

I could see a half-smile on my co-teacher's face the whole time. Some days she also has these inquisitive conversations with him. We both think of him as our favorite student, and try to hide this fact in pretending to be exasperated, which he doesn't believe for a second, I am sure. Finally, with teacherly-authority in my voice and laughter at the same time, I told him to go finish cutting out that caribou.

8.5 hours and counting ...

Dateline: Monday, 3:30am

The day has started with earnest. At approximately 7pm, China Standard Time, we will be home.  However, we must go through the day first.

We are promised the night before that breakfast, which normally is served at 5am, will be delivered at 4am to our room.  We do not ask for a wake up call, and are thankful for the prospect of breakfast.

What should have been my first indication of a day gone wrong was the unasked-for wake up call at 4am.  I should have asked then about breakfast, but I was cheerful of promises.  However, at 4:10am, no breakfast, and a call to the front desk produced a fluster, and a promise of immediate breakfast.  Hmm.  Seems that our breakfast call was confused with a wake up call.

We get to the airport with no breakfast, get moved through customs, and grab some coffee.  We proceed to buy some liquor and cigars at the duty free, which is a right all men and women should exercise.

As the plain is taxiing away, is suddenly stops, and the captain revs the engines, and then turns around to the gate.  Apparently, there is engine problems, and we need to wait for a bit for the repair.

Now, I must stress that the flight from Manila to Beijing is only 4 1/2 hours.  As of right now, we have been sitting for 6 1/2 hours, and have been at the airport for 8 1/2 hours.  We have already bought our allotment of liquor (3 liters), and have run out of Philippino pesos.  We have been served breakfast, a snack, and a lunch, and are still sitting the same terminal.  Spirits are fairly high;  at least, we are not pulling our hair out.  Hopefully we will receive a good travel voucher for this experience.

Fees at every turn (literally)

It seemed, as we wound our way through the airports and terminals, we had to go to station after station to pay these fees.  The advertised prices may be low, but they sneak these in.  However, we probably pay them in the United States as well, just wrapped up in our standard ticket price.


Manila Domestic Terminal Fee     $200PHP x 2 person
Manila Overweight Luggage Fee  $58PHP/kg*11kg = $637.50PHP
Manila Overweight Luggage Fee VAT 25% * $637.50PHP = $212.50PHP
Caticlan - Boracay Boat Fee        $25PHP x 2 person
Caticlan Jetty Fee                        $50PHP x 2 person
Boracay - Caticlan Boat Fee        $30PHP x 2 person
Boracay Jetty Fee                        $50PHP x 2 person
Caticlan Air Terminal Fee             $200PHP x 2 person
Caticlan Overweight Luggage Fee $150/kg*11kg = $1650PHP
Caticlan Overweight Luggage Fee VAT 25% * $1650PHP = $412.50PHP
Manila International Terminal Fee      $550PHP x 2 person


Total Extra Fees (mostly unexpected) in Philippines:

                                                        $5122.50PHP

Made it to Boracay!!

Man, is it beautiful!!  I cannot even explain how pretty this beach is, or how nice and pleasantly warm it is.  I mean, I HATE warm weather.  I also am not a huge fan of the beach.  But, being here is really nice.  I feel like I am wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day.  Pleasant, indeed.


Our travel to Boracay was a little rough.  We almost missed our flight because of the SUPER LONG LINE AT CHECK-IN!  After waiting in a line for about 20 minutes, we realized it was the wrong line.  Then, we waited in another line for about 10 minutes, before realizing that it wasn't a line at all, but a large group of people standing in the WAY of the line.  Then, we waited in the correct line for about 10 minutes, which did not move at all.  Finally, our problems are solved!  We saw a little computer terminal for internet bookings.  Hooray!  We did not have to wait in line after all!

The wait for the terminal was short, only about 10 minutes.  I logged in, went through the complete check-in process, only to find out two things: 1st, if we checked in we would still have to wait in line to turn in our bags, and, 2nd, sigh ...  We could not check in with this type of airplane. !$!!@$#!$

OK, no problem, we get back in line.  I saw that the other side of the MASSIVE group of people was shorter, because people were not traveling over there.  So, we rush over, and get in line behind a Dutch family.  Only about 4 groups ahead of us.  Score!

As we are waiting, an attendant opens up a new line right next to us.  You can see the envy of the 400+ people waiting as we and the Dutch family slid over into the new line ... which wasn't a line at all.  In fact, the employees were only making a shortcut for themselves, and did not close the gates after them.  But, we (the Dutch family and us) did not know this for about 10 minutes.

Ok, so what are we up to now: 60 minutes, and nothing accomplished!

We (the Dutch family and us) get back into our old line, and wait. After about 30 minutes (and watching someone walk through a puddle of pee in line, probably left by a youngster because the parent did not want to leave the line.  Considering the length of the line, the youngster was probably born there.), we made it almost to the front, when we heard an attendant calling last call for check-in of our plane!  They had just opened up a dedicated line for our flight moments before, 10 lines to our left.  The funny thing was, we did not have to wait in the line, but we went all the way to the front.  We could have sat off to the side and waited for our last call.  Oh, well, you learn.


Ok, fast forward past the uneventful, quick, and stunningly beautiful flight over the Philippine islands to an airport right across a channel from our island, called Caticlan/Boracay Airport.  We have booked a transfer service which will pick us up at the airport, take us to a jetty, take us across the channel, and carry our bags to the hotel, which is about a 10 minute walk.  The trip was mostly uneventful, except for the porter hefting my bags onto the roof (which I did not have a choice) and then demanding a tip.  I did not have any small bills to give, so I gave a 100PHP note, which is much too much.  Oh, well, no biggy.

The beach is beautiful, but I already said that.  We take a truck with seats in the back into the are near Station 3.  White Beach (Look here for more about Boracay) is broken up into three different zones.  Station 1 is very quiet, and filled with high end hotels.  Station 2 is mid-range to cheap hotels, and is the part-till-4am zone.  Station 3 is the older, more basic, cheap and simple hotels, and it the most quiet of them all.  We LOVED Station 3, and hated Station 2.  Well, the truck drops us off as close as it can get, which is about a 5 minute walk to the beachfront (a sandy footpath), a 5 minute walk along the path, and then a 2 minute walk down a quiet alleyway.  We crash, and then take pictures of the first sunset, and have a nice dinner.

We flew into Manila last night from Yantai, through Bejing. We are sitting at a nice breakfast at our hotel, getting ready for a short flight to the island. All in all, a safe trip so far.

2 Hours and 2 Blocks

"Are you sure you will be alright going home by yourself?"

"Yes, I will be just fine," I reassured Jane. I rambled off the bus numbers that I could take to get home to ease her worry over me taking a bus for a few blocks down Changjiang Lu towards my apartment. Jane had additional errands to run, and I didn't want to tag along like a little, lost puppy. I had taken the bus before on my own, and this would be no problem. I was independent, I was capable!

We waved goodbye to each other and I strode confidently towards the bus stop. I briefly thought for a moment that I could take a cab, or I could walk home, but then dismissed these ideas in favor of the bus, which would only cost 1 yuan, and take a fraction of the time. After waiting a couple of minutes, a pleasantly uncrowded bus numbered 207 pulled up to the stop. For a moment, my memory of the acceptable bus route numbers was clouded. 21, 208...was 207 one of them? I briefly thought. However, the spaciousness of this bus over others that had rumbled by (buses are crowded more often than not) was persuasive. I climbed on to the bus, and took a standing position rather than plopping down into one of the empty seats because I would be traveling for less than 10 minutes. Better save those seats for those who need them.

The bus traveled two blocks down Changjiang, and then moved into the left turn lane. As it turned left onto a side street, I suddenly remembered that I had taken this bus before! Last time, my friends and I had jumped off as soon as we could after the left turn was taken, and we had walked home the rest of the way, laughing at ourselves. However, this time I was not alarmed. The bus that Jane and I had taken to go to the tailor shop started along Changjiang, then veered off down another parallel street, and shortly thereafter looped back to Changjiang. I looked back at the memory of my friends and I jumping ship...err...bus...and chuckled. Why, this bus route probably just does the same thing! I mused. And we didn't stay on the bus long enough to find out! With this thought in mind--along with the determination to become a capable traveler of the Yantai bus system--I stayed on the 207 bus, waiting for it to loop back to the main road.

But the bus was taking the wrong turns. Left turn, then forward, left turn, and forward even farther from Changjiang Lu. Okay, I thought. No need to worry. This bus probably just takes a bigger loop than the others. It should begin to curve back any moment now. I sent Zach a text message explaining that I had taken the wrong bus, and was taking the "scenic route" home. No need to worry...just was going to be later than I had predicted. I took a seat. However, the bus continued to take the "wrong turns." I found myself attempting telekinetic control of the bus at every intersection, trying to persuade it to go right. The bus was now well out of the wealthier part of town, and began passing by older, shambly homes, and dusty, high-rise apartment construction sites. Worry began rising in my chest. Yet disbelief that the bus route could extend for much further and that it would loop back very soon continued its presence in my mind.

Eventually, an adventurous spirit welled up. Well, be as it may, this is an opportunity to see the parts of Yantai that I would never have gone to see on my own! I courageously convinced my worry away. The bus passed by enormous factories--huge, impersonal rectangular prisms of industry. The bus rode past even more high-rise apartment buildings under construction, all clothed in the characteristic scaffolding of bamboo poles and green mesh. The bus ran by an entrance to one of Changyu Winery's facilities...was it a vineyard? Was it a production plant? The bus continued on its journey, and rolled up a grassy hill. As it crested the hill, I looked down at a very unfamiliar sight. Instead of the high-rise buildings, factories, construction sites, and endless pavement that had become a reality of my daily life, I saw a sprawling village of red brick, gray cement block, dust, and poverty. A few people waited alongside the road for the bus, the bus stops identified by single, rusty signs leaning off to the side like tired, old men.

I must say that by this time, the (naive?), adventurous spirit had drained from within me and was expelled along with the exhaust fumes of this bus that continued to rumble into the middle of nowhere for me, yet somewhere for those who lived and worked out here. I also must say that by the time I realized that I should get off the bus and take a taxi back to my district of Yantai, there were no more taxis in sight. By the time I realized I should get off the bus, cross the road, and wait for the 207 headed back into town, I decided that it would be safer for me to stay on the bus. Not that people of the villages the bus drove past looked "rough," but I am unmistakably western-looking, was wearing my very conspicuous, puffy, white jacket, and would have to wait beside one of those "bus stops" for who-knows how long. I decided that I would rather not take the chance.

I was filled with worry, but tried to not appear so. I had been texting Zach, updating him on my situation, and trying to reassure him that I was okay...just had a long bus ride home. My last bit of naive hope was drained when I saw the Raffles ship-building crane, looming in the near distance to my left instead of as a speck across the bay as usual; I was VERY far from my district, Kaifaqu.

After what seemed like an eternity of worry and unfamiliar nowhere-ness, the bus made its last stop. My attempt to appear invisible to the rest of the occupants of the bus must have failed, as the driver turned around and began to ask me some questions. I attempted to tell him with a mixture of my limited Mandarin, Chinglish, and gestures that I didn't know this bus was going so far, and I was headed back to Tianshan Lu in the Kaifaqu district. The driver continued to ask questions, so I called Jane (who was worried about me, and had been calling me periodically to make sure I was safe) to translate. She told me that he said the best he could do was to take me back to Changjiang Lu, and I could take a taxi. As the bus finally turned around and began heading back towards Kaifaqu, I felt an exhausted release of worry. Finally...heading back home. The bus was finally making the turns I wanted it to. As the bus neared my stop, the driver asked around for a piece of paper, and wrote an address down for me to show the taxi driver. Even though I knew how to tell the taxi driver where to go, I was touched by his care for my welfare. I took the paper, thanked him, and paid for my long bus ride. I only needed 3 more yuan for the fare, but only had two 1 yuan bills, a 10 yuan bill, and a couple of 100 yuan bills. I put in the 10 yuan note into the slot, realizing how ironic the situation was; I originally took the bus in order to pay 1 yuan instead of the 8 yuan cab fare!

Utterly exhausted, I stepped off the bus... two hours later and two blocks away from where I had originally gotten on the bus. 2 hours to go 2 blocks.

Every taxi I saw was occupied, so I walked the rest of the way home. This was probably the best thing for me, as I was able to "walk off" the flamatory combination of irritation and fatigue, talk to God about my bad attitude, reflect on this experience, and with God's strength and mercy, release my irritation into the refreshingly chilly night air.

I would end my post here, but I know that you all would like to know that I got home safely, which I did.

I was able to come home to Zach with "high spirits" (as he described them), and this story ends happily with a caring husband's hug, glass of wine, and freshly cooked steak dinner all waiting for me.