Traveling day eight - the only blonde on a bus

Chris and I did a double performance at the international school assembly today.  It was great working on something with him – he is one talented person.  At home we are usually doing our own projects – he is involved in youth and I muck around in kid’s work.  But it was wonderful for a change to have a shared focus and work out together how to tell the story of Esther.  There was a puppet involved.  And a song that I made up.  And Chris playing the part of a reporter for "In Persia Today".  I even shamelessly used my children as stagehands.

I can hear Timothy (the three year old at the house where we are staying) still singing the song we made up!

We followed the school assembly time with milk tea – a Chinese favourite, and the local specialty Wuhan hot, dry, noodles.  We ate them sitting on the footpath and were the conversational topic for all the locals sitting around us.

Then I went to the kindy to do another round of storytelling and caught the bus to the kindy ALL BY MY SELF. I hopped onto the bus armed with 4 yuan and a little note with then characters explaining what stop I was getting off at. I asked a few people on the bus if they could help me, and a lovely gentleman not only got off the stop with me, he walked me all the way to the kindy and delivered me to our friends. I have been told that the whole history of China and the impression it gives is dependent upon whether you are kind to strangers on the bus. Or something like that. In any case, I have not met a Chinese person yet who is not friendly and helpful and patient - even though they may have lots of their own jobs to do.

Thanks helpful Chinese guy

On the bus trip back home I got off at the correct stop, and a cheer went up from about 8 people who helped me find the stop. Then I had to cross the major road outside the apartment block. It looked like a wall of traffic. I spied a local to follow, and started my 'ghost walk' strategy. This is when I realized the local I had chosen to follow was a young teenage fellow who weaved in and out of the cars. But I kept on him like a champion and crossed the road unscathed.

So now I have travelled around like a local. Yay! Feel a big sense of accomplishment.

At the kindy when I was doing some storytelling it was with a group of 8 year old boys.  And as with all 8 year old boys on a Friday afternoon they were being rascals.  I had learned only two phrases of Chinese before I came - and one of them was 'fong pai' (who farted?).  Needless to say, I heard this phrase amidst much giggling from the boys in the story time this afternoon.  8 year olds.  The same the world over.

rascals....fong pai?