the returning immigrant

Most of the last week or so has been spent holed up in my parents’ house, voyeuristically (is that a word?) looking at peoples’ facebook profiles, watching BBC TV online (oh, broadband…), reading cheap novels and generally being lazy. Claiming readjustment, reverse culture-shock, Jetlag and so on has definite advantages.

But there comes a point where a man has to get on with his life and get on his bike.  So I did. Dad is a bit of a cycling nut and has a spare bike or two lying around, so when he said he was off for a pedal I decided to get off my gently fattening backside (too much cheese on toast) and join him.

“How far do you want to go?” he asks.

“10 miles?” I reply, “That long enough for you?”

Considering that he regularly does 4 times that, he very graciously agreed. It actually ended up being 20 because we took a small detour to The Pub With No Name (otherwise known as the White Horse) at Priors Dean, but that’s a slightly different story. Anyway. I digress.

We wound our way down some picturesque (and quintessentially English) country lanes, through the villages of Blackmoor, Selborne and Newton Valence. As we came to the top of one hill, Dad commented that we ought to go single file, as the road was a bit narrow and winding. We set off, dodging minor potholes and the detritus that is so often found on english country lanes, and began to gain speed. This presented something of a challenge, as the bike I was riding, an Airnimal, is designed to fold up, which means it has slightly smaller wheels than is usually the case for a road bike.  Skinny tyres, pumped up hard, ensure that only a very small patch of rubber is ever in contact with the road. This causes less rolling resistance (which means you go faster), but also makes braking rather more difficult.  Which is a problem when one comes round a corner at significant speed to find a large tractor coming the other way.

Big Tractor + Small Road = No Space. Big Problem. How I stopped without hitting him, I don’t know.  I do know that I was squeezing hard enough on the brake that the cable actually slipped in the mechanism. Interestingly, Once everything had stopped I realised that I had, without thinking about it, aimed for the front wheel of the tractor as that was the softest part to hit.  The instinct for self-preservation is a funny thing.

I can also say that, faced with impending death or significant injury, my life did not flash before my eyes.  My concious faculties were filled with one word and it had four letters.  I don’t think there’s anything particularly ignoble about it; there simply wasn’t room in my brain for anything except “oh, bleep…”

Ah well, I survived without actually hitting anything and the post adrenaline shakes gave a pretty convincing excuse for a beer at the pub-with-no-name in Priors Dean…

Speaking of near death experiences, I have an interview on wednesday at which my fate for the coming year will be decided.  A PGCE at King’s, or something else - I’ll keep you posted.

Jetlag is a wonderful thing. This morning, I woke up at 5.30am, any attempts to get back to sleep thwarted by a brain in overdrive.  I’m faced with the uncomfortable task of re-learning how to live in England - bank accounts, mobile phone, groceries (how does anyone afford anything here?!), learning to cook again (yes, it has basically been 6 years…)

The truth is, I already miss China.  The simplicity of existence. The lack of any real responsibility when it comes to obeying the rules of the road (red traffic lights? a recommendation!). Really cheap good food.

But I’m also aware that that chapter of my life is over, however painful that may be, and it’s time to move on.  Time to breath clean air, and savour the lighting fast internet connections of the UK. Time to learn how to cook again.

For those still in China, though, worry not.  I’m not going to forget about you and I will be back to visit!

As I come to the end of this China chapter (less than a week to departure), it seems good to look back over the last 6 years. Here’s a list, not exactly definitive but close, of my top 10…

1. Watching the clouds lifting to reveal snow-capped peaks in Lhasa. Gobsmackingly beautiful.
2. Playing with the Instant Noodles to a full dance floor at the AmCham annual ball. Just call me Al.
3. Leading worship with Liz, Logan, Jerm, Stefan and Daniel at Spring Camp 08. It’s all Jazz, man!
4. Hearing Trey Harvey call me “Uncle Rich” for the first time
5. Watching the IAB Worship band go from strength to strength. Yesterday, today and forever His grace is enough .
6. Being useful during the SARS outbreak (and then finding out that someone in Yangshuo was selling knocked-off copies of the video that we made!)
7. Discovering that I’d stopped being cynical about church. Thanks, NeXt!
8. Biking, hiking and river-swimming in Yangshuo
9. The countless moments of connection that make teaching and youth work so rewarding.
10. The tears at the end of it all. Confirmation that it was worth it.

The thing about saying goodbye, I suppose, is that you begin to realise how much you care about people. And possibly how much they care about you. Which is humbling.

Those of you who are still at IAB next year, be nice to the new guys. I hope that you inspire them as much as you’ve inspired me.

I can see clearly now the smog has gone, but it will probably be back tomorrow and large clouds of uncertainty still hang over my next steps!

There are two more “normal” days of school, 3 days of exams and a day and a half of wrapping up. After which, I will no longer work at IAB. Weird. The last 5 years have gone ridiculously quickly, and I’m painfully aware of the things that I didn’t quite manage to achieve, but overall it’s been a good job. I’m definitely going to miss the school and a large number of students. You know who you are.

Mum and Dad are coming out at the end of term and will be in China until the end of June. I’m hoping to spend some time in Sichuan helping with earthquake relief and my flight out is booked for the 10th July. An interview with King’s College, London, is scheduled for some time in July, after which I should have some vague idea of what I’m doing with the rest of my life!

I like silly ideas. They remind me that life doesn’t always make sense, but that if we smile and enjoy the moment, it generally ends up being more fun. Which is where I find myself. I’m in between back-to-back youth camp weekends, which will be followed immediately (like monday-morning-6.45am-at-school kind of immediately) by a week long trip to Yangshuo with 28 high school students. Oh yes.

Something tells me I might need some sleep by the time that’s all over with, but then there’s the little nagging issue of an impending yearbook print deadline. Just another little thing, right?

As birthdays go, I reckon this was one of the better ones.  28 seems like an awfully big number to a guy who still forgets to tie his shoelaces before leaving the house, but apparently that’s what it is.  I think I shall hold on to “you’re as old as you act” for as long as possible.

One of the many good things that came out of the day was the sense of family that I enjoy here. I think it does all of us good to be encouraged, and my Beijing family managed it rather well!  Highlights included the cake (thanks, Liz!), the card (thanks, girls - you know who you are!) and the prodigious number of facebook wall posts.  I definitely feel loved.

Plans for next year are still in flux.  I withdrew my application to Leeds Trinity yesterday, having spent far too long waiting for them to reply to emails about possible phone interviews.  Not too impressed with the level of professionalism there.  The application is now with Kings College, London, and we’ll see where it goes.

So Beijing is finally beginning to warm up, which is nice, but it does mean that the snowboarding season is pretty much over. Shijinglong and Nanshan, my usual spots, are pretty much icy slush so it’s about time to resort to the joys of a 100-yard indoor run…

There was, however, time for one last hurrah.  Wanlong is about 100 miles north of Beijing, and the top of the mountain is about 6500 feet above sea level (2100m ish) so it holds its snow longer than the slopes closer in to town.  To our delight, as we approached the resort, fluffy white stuff started floating down from the heavens, and it didn’t stop for most of the weekend - fresh powder!  For those readers who don’t live in Beijing, this is pretty much a major event - it’s usually too dry for real snow here, and the vast majority of boarding/skiing is done on groomed artificial snow - not dreadful, but not quite as good as God’s original…   The snow was interspersed with periods of beautiful sunshine.  It’s been a while since I was that tempted to call in sick for work!

Just over two years ago, on the 31st of January 2006, I wrote my second ever blog post. Titled “Aerial Bombardment,” it described the chaos of 14 million Beijingers all trying to set off fireworks at the same time. Today is the fifteenth and last day of the Chinese New Year celebrations and, from the sounds of it, the population is trying to reduce their stockpiles. The rumbling of repeated explosions near and far has been a feature of the Beijing soundscape for most of the last couple of weeks and I can’t say I’m going to miss it too much.

We did have our own bit of fun, though. A group of us clubbed together last night to indulge in a little pyromania. Remarkably, we all left with our fingers and toes still firmly attached to our bodies, despite the Tedder brothers’ best efforts. Suffice to say that explosive incendiary devices designed to be detonated at safe altitudes are significantly more intimidating when they go off at ground level…

The winter seems to be running out of steam quicker than normal, which is both a blessing and a shame. before long, the snowboards will once more be confined to the joys of the indoor slopes. All good things must end I suppose. In the meantime, I intend to make the most of the opportunities.

Arrangements for next year are still somewhat up in the air. Leeds Trinity, my first choice of teacher-training provider have proved rather less than reliable when it comes to responding to queries. At what point does one give up and withdraw one’s application? Not an easy question to answer…

The traditional wish of prosperity for one’s friends and family rings out once again, as China heralds the year of the Rat.  Couldn’t they have chosen a more palatable rodent?  Gerbil, perhaps?  Wombat?  Ah, well.

My penchant for spending festivals in odd places is in action once again.  This time I’m in Cambodia, visiting an old friend.  So far (I’ve been here less than 24 hours) it’s a hugely endearing place.  Phnom Penh is a charmingly small capital, full of small streets and motorbikes and a far cry indeed from Beijing’s concrete jungle. 

I’d promise pics on facebook soon, but I said that about the Philippines and they’re still not done yet.  Oops.

Here’s wishing all of you a blessed year of the Rat, then.  Spare a thought, too, as we wish each other prosperity, for those still struggling against poverty.  My Dad’s in Djibouti at the moment and apparently they haven’t had any rain yet this year.  Not good.  Not good either for the millions of Migrant Chinese workers unable to see their families this year because of the snows.  It’s a bigger deal for them than most of us realise.  I guess we’re luckier than we like to admit.

Chun Jie Kuai Le…