Leaving China (7-23)

Tuesday morning at 6:00 I left the guesthouse in Danba to begin the eleven-hour bus ride to Chengdu. It was drizzling, and by the time I arrived at the bus, it was raining. I was really glad to have had such a nice day for my outing on Monday. As often is the case, I had to tell the young man next to me that I wanted my assigned window seat. This is something I won’t miss.

For the first hour and a half, we went through the mountains. Literally through them in a series of tunnels with very little space between them. Then we went over the mountains along a river. Weather was overcast all day; so the views were not magnificent.

At 1:00 we stopped for the lunch break. When I walked to the end of the area, I realized that it was the same place we had stopped on the way to Kangding.

The good news of the trip was that we arrived in ten hours, not eleven as I had been told. And we arrived at the bus station from which I could get a direct bus to Wenjiang. After a long day, this was especially nice. I arrived back on campus at 6:30. Since I was very tired, I didn’t do much that night.

Wednesday was “getting ready to leave” day. Part of that process was deciding to mail one more small box. Dale’s pillow started that thinking, as it weighs a kilogram and didn’t fit in my bag. Along with it, I sent the cold weather clothes from the trip; so it was good to have them out of the way. On the way to the post office, I stopped to ask Yang about getting a driver to take me to the airport. I was surprised when only the man was in the office because I’d been told that everyone would be working until the end of the month. But it was nice to know that they weren’t required to work every day. When I commented to him that I wanted to ask about getting a driver to take me to the airport on Thursday, he offered to help and called Mr. Huang to get permission and then called a driver. So I was set.

I made a last trip to DaWan to see what was open for dinner. Some places—such as the eggplant restaurant at which I had thought about eating—were closed, but I was surprised to see how many were still open and how many students from SUFE were around. I returned to the restaurant Diao Min had introduced me to—and at which I’d eaten twice with friends—because I wanted a good meal, not just street food. So I had my last authentic—Chinese food cooked in China—Chinese dinner, and it was delicious. After eating, I bought my last boiled soybeans from the couple who have always been friendly to me. I tried to tell them that I was leaving, but I could tell that they weren’t paying attention to my Chinese and were just smiling. So I said “good-bye.” I wondered if they’ll realize that their regular foreign customer isn’t there next semester.

Thursday I finished stuffing things into my bag and did the last cleaning. All too quickly it was time to depart. Since no one was around and I’d said my “good-byes,” leaving felt a bit anticlimactic. Bittersweet as always. The university was a good place for me for 2.5 years, but I knew it was time to leave. I had many good experiences there and have several good friends, most of whom I know I won’t hear from again, which is part of the sadness of leaving. Strangely, in the last few weeks I had had several students from past years stop to tell me that their teacher had said I was leaving and that they would miss me. A couple even asked for a hug. I guess I meant more to them than I knew, which is often the case with teaching.

As I made my way across campus to meet the driver, I heard my name being called. When I turned around, two students—Pearl and Betty— I’d had the first semester I was at the university were behind me. I was surprised to see any students, especially one I knew. I hadn’t seen Pearl for about a year, and I didn’t know Betty. They carried one of the bags and walked with me to the car. They were on their way to the library to study, as they are spending the summer studying for the graduate school entrance exam they will take in December. It was really nice to have their company and to chat with them. And it was nice to have someone wave me off.

Thus ended my 2.5 years in China. Betty asked me if I love China. I have liked China, but I haven’t loved it. Many foreigners do, but it didn’t affect me that way. Some of what they like is the attention and special treatment they get because they are foreign, but those things don’t appeal to me. I have been treated well, but in many ways it was an isolated experience, as we were not included with—or introduced to— the teaching staff; so I never really felt like I was part of the university like I felt like I was part of the Thai schools. We did our thing, and the rest of the teachers did theirs; and there was no interaction between us. My friendship with Peggie and Hannah from the Foreign Language Department and with Yang and Michelle in the Foreign Affairs Office were what kept me going as far as having relationships. And my special office hours’ girls. Relationships with them also kept me feeling involved beyond mere classroom instruction. The positive feedback I had from students related to what I did in class always made me feel like my teaching had made a difference to many of them, which is what teaching is about in the end. In addition to teaching, I was able to travel to many places in the country that I had never thought about visiting. And to neighboring countries I hadn’t thought about visiting. All in all, I would say it was a successful 2.5 years. It’s an experience I’m glad to have had. And I’m glad to be moving on.