Sometimes it's really a good thing that predictions
don't come true.It was supposed to rain last September on
the day of the Dragon Boat races in Pittsburgh, but someone
forgot to tell the sun that, and it shone brightly, anyway,
much to the delight of the spectators spread all over River
Front Park. Wherever there are hundreds of people at an
event which is supposed to span several hours, you can bet
that some of them would like to spend a portion of that time
eating. Counting myself in that number, I was assuaging my
hunger with one of the mass-produced Asian delicacies when
my companion, one of three South American musicians renting
rooms in my house, informed me that he had spotted some
necklaces I was sure to like. It was probably while I was
exploring them, trying to decide which ones to add to my
collection, that one of my Chinese friends told me that a
Chinese poet whom I had been wanting to meet for some time
was seated at a nearby table.
Naturally, I introduced myself, expressing the
desire to meet again in A quieter place. Our Chinese
conversation attracted the attention of Pu Ying, a
journalist who produces a newspaper in Chinese for U.S.
readers. With a thoroughness characteristic of her trade,
she asked me enough questions to determine that we, too,
should get together at a later date. Always eager for more
contact with Chinese people in the U.S., especially since
all my Chinese housemates had gone either back to China or
other U.S. cities, we exchanged phone numbers.
Our acquaintanceship has resulted in a variety of
opportunities not afforded most Americans studying Chinese.
The first of these was the chance to sing at the closing
ceremonies of a soccer game between Pittsburgh and
Cleveland. I didn't even know Pittsburgh had a Chinese
soccer team. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of an
open field on a warm, Sunday afternoon singing Chinese folk
songs to the athletes and their families and friends.
I got to meet a few of them at the wonderful
dinner which Pu Yin hosted at a local Chinese restaurant.
Subsequently we met on several occasions. I usually got a
call from Ms Pu saying that she was coming to Pittsburgh and
would be her within hours hoping to take me to dinner.
Though there were times when I couldn't rearrange my
schedule, we got together often enough for her to write an
extensive article about me for her newspaper. My students
were amazed to see so many pictures of me engaged in various
activities.
A few weeks ago I discovered that the plans for my
seventeenth trip to China to teach English had fallen
through because the family with which I had lived for the
past two summers had moved outside easy commuting range of
the school. As usual, several people had mentioned that they
would try to find me a school for the summer, but no one had
succeeded. Most schools either don't have summer programs or
had filled their need for teachers long ago. Furthermore, I
learned from my last year's host, who had lived with my
family in the U.S. for over five years while he got his
degree, the government has decided that Chinese children are
under too much pressure and was therefore curtailing summer
intensive English programs. Ms. Pu, however, told me of a
program in Wuhan which might still need teachers. A
professor phoned me in relation to this program, but was
clearly extremely concerned about my blindness. However, Ms
Pu must have had additional contact with him because I
received an e-mail message urging me to contact someone in
Wuhan by telephone. Ms Pu had said, however, that the school
wanted teachers to stay for an extended period of time, the
other deterrent to my successful placement, since I have a
position teaching Russian and Chinese to children here
during the academic year.
Satisfied with my reassurance that Wuhan would
not have to pay my air fare due to the short duration of my
stay, the man on the other end of the phone line told me
he'd get back to me. In China, that's often a polite
refusal. In this case, though, the phone rang at 1:30 A.M.
with the news that I could start packing my bats for the
program which would begin July 16. I was so excited that I
forgot to ask important details such as the name of the
school and class size. Excitedly I phoned my former host in
China, the only person who would be awake at that hour of
the morning, to tell him I could indeed bring the box of
music books he had ordered in person. The next morning I
gave the good news to Ms Pu who also helped me to book the
air ticket, not an easy task at this late date. I have a
number of friends in Wuhan, but never bothered to get their
addresses, since I had sworn never to go there during the
summer since the temperature and the food are both too hot
for me.
This brings me back to the assertion I made at
the beginning, which is that sometimes it's a good thing
that predictions don't come true. |
