How does one summarize four of the most influential days of her life? As I sit in my living room, dusk drawing near, the air growing colder, my space heater unplugged while I sit, instead, under blankets wearing double sweaters with the window open, I can't help but wonder how I put words to the emotions flowing through me. These past 4 days have changed me, far beyond my new tolerance and acceptance of cold weather, and yet I can't quite convey how or why or in what greater capacity, I just feel and know I have changed.
Already tears are welling just thinking of these past few days. It seems silly when I ask myself "why," mostly because I don't have an answer. Perhaps it was the overwhelming hospitality I was shown, or the hope amongst the despair that I encountered in every person's face, perhaps the fact that, for the first time in more than a year and a half, I was accepted into a family, or maybe it was something deeper than even these things that I'll never quite be able to explain, to myself or to anyone.
I met Zhou Lei by chance on campus one night. We both came back to campus later than usual and, since I live amongst the student dormitories, we ran into each other outside of my apartment complex while he was rushing back to his dorm. I don't know what made him stop to talk to me; for him, it wasn't the want to "practice his oral English," it was the want to tell me his story of surviving the biggest earthquake of our time.
It seems I've always drawn refugees. I don't know why God puts them in my life, but I've had more than a few "random" encounters with refugees before: a Tutsi Rwandan in South Africa who, for no explained reason, shared with me his encounter fleeing from Hutu militia, a Bosnian in Atlanta's airport who, again, for no apparent reason, told me of his experience fleeing Bosnia and the gratitude he felt towards NGOs, and now Zhou Lei, who came to my apartment every Monday night from that point on and cried, sharing his stories from his earthquake experience. When Zhou Lei learned that I would be in Chengdu for Peace Corps In-Service Training at the beginning of January, he begged me to wait and meet him there after he finished his exams and then go with him to his hometown. After I was certain the invitation was real, I accepted.
Peace Corps training in Chengdu was fun and meaningful as always. I visited my host family, who appears to have suffered a great deal from the fall in the economy. My host mom, now very pregnant and due next month, allowed me to treat them to dinner and then told me that they had to sell their car and apartment because they lost so much money in stocks. Their new apartment is big enough, but belongs to her dad's uncle's friend's dad…or something like that. It was nice seeing them, although I worry about their financial situation. After visiting them, I came down with my second case of Giardia and was pretty useless for two days, stuck mostly in the hotel.
When I recovered from Giardia, the time came to meet Zhou Lei at the train station early on Friday morning. Together, we took a bus from Chengdu to his hometown, a small town in Shi Fang county, Sichuan. Other than what Zhou Lei told me, I knew very little about Shi Fang; just that it suffered greatly in the earthquake.
When we arrived at Zhou Lei's home, a farm on the outskirts of the city, I was surprised by how nonchalant and calm his parents and grandma (who never left the outdoor kitchen area) seemed at seeing their son for the first time since summer and by now having a foreign guest in their home. They treated him coolly, barely exchanged words, and went about their business. I was totally taken aback, at first, and worried about what kind of situation I had gotten myself into. What I quickly learned, however, was that they were nervous out of their minds and didn't know how to act in front of me, the first foreigner they'd ever seen, that had ever been to their town before, and now was going to be sleeping in their bed and eating at their table. They were so nervous they barely knew how to speak.
Zhou Lei's home was about what I expected, physically similar to most farms I've seen in Guizhou, but it was definitely a different experience staying there rather than simply seeing it in passing. The kitchen and bathroom were not connected to the house; both were outside, in only partially enclosed areas. The house itself was simple: two bedrooms, a living area, and nothing more. The walls were bare, and, other than a bouquet of plastic flowers, the house itself had no decorations or color at all. For furniture, they had two beds, a wooden sofa, and chairs to go around the kitchen table (that stays outside). Around their home, the Zhou's were surrounded by close neighbors (both in proximity and relationship), jagged dirt paths, abundant crops terraced throughout the land, fallen bricks, litter, and the lovely sound of quiet countryside.
Before long, the Zhou's family –almost entire family-- came and joined us for a huge feast that Zhou Lei's mom and grandma had prepared all day long. It was almost entirely composed of meat dishes, which means it was especially expensive! So many family members came to welcome me and to share in the giant feast! It was such a nice welcoming to their home!
After a giant feast with his family, Zhou Lei and I took a bus into the city where we met 3 of his former high school classmates. Together, we walked around the city and they showed me the areas that were most affected by the earthquake, almost entirely schools. After touring the city, which was devastatingly sad, Zhou Lei had me go to his old high school, where I gave two guest lessons to the high school students. It was a lot of fun, and definitely spontaneous as I hadn't planned for the occasion. There was a time where that would have stressed me out, but I've gotten quite good at planning lessons (and anything else, for that matter) on the spot. The students were lovely and eager to speak with me, eager to tell me their individual earthquake stories.
The night greeted us with yet another feast, all of the family and more neighbors in attendance, more stories of the earthquake, and then, once the night was unbearably cold, Zhou Lei's mother and I crawled into bed together and fell into a deep sleep. While, in normal circumstances, it would be very strange and alarming to have to share a bed with a stranger, at this time it didn't even faze me as strange, caught up in the moment as I was.
The following day, Zhou Lei and I woke early, met up with 4 more of his classmates, and together, we ventured off to Shi Fang's mountains to meet up with one of their other classmates, Sha Sha, who lives in a refugee camp there. The mountain towns of Shi Fang were some of the most devastating areas of the 5.12.08 earthquake, leaving almost nothing standing. Together, the six of us walked around, touring the areas, visiting the remains and the refugee camp, generously built by volunteers from various places in China (mostly Shenzhen). Sha Sha led us to her home, a makeshift that was built in a hurry after the earthquake for shelter.
After visiting Sha Sha's town, we ventured further up the mountain, passed destruction after destruction, finally arriving at Zhou Zhou's (one of the classmates we were with) grandmother's town. This town was the most devastating of all thus far, and his grandmother, single and alone, lived in a makeshift house composed of tarps, old wooden planks, and rubble from outside. All of her neighbors' homes were the same, all built in a hurry with whatever material they could find. It was cold, and thankfully the tarps were able to protect his grandmother from the wind, but the mountain's cold air still seeped through.
Again, after visiting Zhou Zhou's grandmother and having a large meal at her home, we walked around, touring her "town," unrecognizable amidst the ruin. In her town, everything was destroyed, only a few walls scattered here and there, cracked and on the verge of falling, remained still standing. In the midst of the rubble, we came across a family of two older women and their toddler, sifting through the rubble, trying to find anything they could to salvage and use to build their home and make their home warmer. Zhou Lei had to beg them to stop digging, telling them a few pieces of rubble were not worth their safety.
We visited a factory in the same town. The factory, on the day of the earthquake, completely collapsed and killed many, many people. In addition to the workers who worked there, the factory also housed the workers' families. Everything fell. Sha Sha and Little Dog (another classmate we were with) had relatives, a dad and a cousin, who worked there at the time. Coincidentally enough, both Sha Sha's dad and Little Dog's cousin just happened to not go to work the day of the earthquake, and so both made it out alive. What a beautiful blessing!
We concluded the tour of refugee areas by going further up the mountain to a small town called Hong Bai (Red White). Hong Bai was absolutely the most devastating of the towns. Nothing remained. Fortunately, with the help of the government and many NGOs (including UNICEF), the town was rebuilt into another refugee center, with many makeshift buildings in replace of the old. In Hong Bai, we visited Little Dog's sister, who lived there and lost everything in the earthquake. His sister's son was absolutely the most heroic boy I've ever met. Only 10 years old, he lost 1/3 of his classmates (about 60) on 5.12.08. His school collapsed. He, himself, lost his leg and, when we met him, was walking well on a prosthetic after only 7 months of practice. Emotionally, I could tell he was affected. Walking along the road towards the city, whenever a car came and kicked up dirt in our direction, he buckled over, shielding his eyes and covering from the dust. The little boy never once left Little Dog's side, and wouldn't talk to any of us except Little Dog. He served as our guide, whispering everything to Little Dog and having LD speak for him.
On the third day, after waking up beside Zhou Lei's mom yet again, Zhou Lei's retired primary school teacher (who was also his mom's primary school teacher) came to "our" home to greet the foreigner she heard about. In a city that has never seen a foreigner, let alone had one stay on a farm in the countryside, word traveled quickly about me. The teacher was a very kind woman who, in spite of our many differences, related to me instantly and welcomed me to come to her home that night. For the afternoon, however, we had other plans: yet another feast with the family, at Zhou Lei's aunt's home.
When we arrived at the aunt's home, I was greeted with three times the amount of people as those that greeted me for the first feast. Zhou Lei's aunt lives in a neighboring city, Guang Han, and invited everyone –family, neighbors, acquaintances, etc.—to their home to meet, greet and enjoy a giant countryside feast with us. It was wonderful fun, and, as with the entire week, incredibly giving.
After lunch, Zhou Lei's uncle, who drove 2 hours to come visit us for the day, took Zhou Lei, his cousin (who we call "Ge Ge" – big brother--), aunt and me to a place called SanXinDui, a historical ruins site where bronze and gold religious artifacts from 2,800 BC to 800 BC were discovered (http://www.chinaculture.org/gb/en_curiosity/2006-07/31/content_84176.htm). The tickets were incredibly expensive, yet still they insisted on paying and showing me the greatest of times in their city. On the ride back to Zhou Lei's aunt's home (for another feast), Gege declared that he sees me as his "American Sister" and, from that moment on, the family "adopted" me and took me on as their own. They insisted that, for spring festival (Chinese New Year), the most important holiday in this country, I have to come and spend the week with their—my new—family.
That night, Zhou Lei, his mother and I all walked over to his retired primary school teacher's home. She, in expectation of our arrival, had her female relatives over to greet us with fruit and conversation. It was a lovely evening, the family was incredibly warm and accepting, and again I went to bed happy.
The fourth and last day was, again, memorable. We woke early, had breakfast together, and then Zhou Lei, his mom, dad and I all went to the neighboring city, exploring various parks sites around the town. We took photos, had a great meal together, they bestowed many generous gifts upon me, and then they bought me and Zhou Lei bus tickets back to Chengdu so that Zhou Lei could see that I got safely on the train. On the bus, Zhou Lei gave me my new name: Zhou Fei Fei. For the longest time I've hated my Chinese surname "Fang," and just introduced myself without it. "Fang" means square, which has negative connotations in my mind, and it also belongs to a Chinese family I don't know or have no connections to. When people ask me my name, I always simply say "Fei Fei", leaving the Fang behind. "Zhou," on the other hand, means thoughtful and all around, like a circle. It belongs to my new Chinese family and carries all the significance of the world.
Next Friday the 23rd, I, Zhou Fei Fei, will take a train back to Chengdu and then a bus back to my "home" in China, spending the Chinese New Year festival (January 25th- 28th) with my Chinese family. Good, good people.
http://picasaweb.google.com/valerieflynninchina2/ShiFangVisitToStudentSHomeAnd51208EarthquakeZone#
1 comment:
Wow, Val, the damage looks devastating. It reminds me of when we went to Honduras and people who lost their homes to Hurricane Mitch were still living in the refugee camps. So sad.
It sounds like you had an overwhelming and profound trip. Thanks for sharing it.
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