Perhaps this isn’t the moment to blog. I’m sitting on my perky red couch late at night, dazed, exhausted, and nauseous (I’m never quite sure how to say that) with a violent kitten hopping across me. She gets jealous of the pink mac and tries to distract me from typing by doing laps across my shoulders and body with an occasional stop to try to bite the computer. However, tonight I truly experienced culture shock, and I want to document the feeling before I recover. Read the rest of this entry »

I walked here to the coffee shop tonight.  The walk was cold and encouraging.  I’d prepared by putting on my warm long john pants and jeans, a couple of shirts, my jacket, scarf, hat, and snow boots.  Then I topped off the outfit by wearing a warm little face mask, a popular thing to do in northeast China.  My little cat ran away and hid under the couch as I said goodbye and bustled out the door.     Read the rest of this entry »

The weather is amazingly warm, blessings pour down upon me daily, I’m surrounded by eager students and encouraging friends, but none of it matters because I have a cold. Again.

I have to laugh at myself. Really, I’m not a wimp. In fact, were you to plan a tragedy or horrifically tense crisis, you’d probably want me there. When conflict or chaos is occurring, I can be as cool as a cucumber, very helpful, organized, and creative. Every ounce of positivity that I possess comes to the forefront.

And then, there are those small things that tend to turn me from Miss Optimism into Eeyore herself. Things like the minor inconvenience of having a cold. (Or that last few minutes before a bunch of guests arrive for dinner when I tend to flip out.) Seriously, the stuffy nose, fever, headache thing turns me into a depressed person. I go from praising to planning my funeral. It’s wrong, it’s frustrating, and it’s actually quite funny. At least, I can entertain myself with my over-the-top pessimism while I blow my nose and sneeze.

I passed a friend today on the sidewalk as I returned from lunch. I’d been at my favorite restaurant, eating some of my favorite food, all alone studying for my Chinese lesson. It was peaceful and happy. I walked home in the warm wind, listening to my favorite depressing day music. Life was great, except for the cold. And my friend, passing by, says “How’s it going?” “Fine,” I chirped, practically hopping with fake cheerfulness. I actually did start laughing after I passed him, laughing at the monologue in my head.

“Fine? FINE? You’re dying here. You can hardly breathe, you keep sneezing, and you’re head’s falling off. You should have said a few last words since you’re not even going make it through your Chinese lesson or up to the 4th floor ever again.”

It’s funnier when you can hear the melodramatic, Eeyore voice in my head.

“Why does he even ask such a dumb question? ‘How’s it going?’ Good grief. He should have asked something more helpful, like, ‘Can I mail a letter for you to your family once you’ve passed away from this cold?’ or perhaps, ‘Would you like some chocolate that I happen to have right here in my briefcase?’”

Courage. I respect courage. The courage to storm the enemy positions in wartime, the courage to obey or to speak the truth. Most of all, I respect the courage of people who are actually unselfish, un-whiny, and un-pitiful while having a cold. They are my heroes.

It turns out that I am allergic to even more things than I originally thought. Yesterday, I planned to have three student sisters over for dinner. First I braved Walmart supercenter by myself, returning triumphant with lots of stuff. Next I began a concentrated program of cooking and cleaning. The menu involved home-made chicken noodle soup, sandwiches, and apple cake. I was running late, so I was working rather frantically and decided to take some short cuts.

“No need to wash these apples for the cake,” I thought. “I’m just going to cut the peel off anyway.”

My neighbor Heidi came in and was talking to me while I finished the cake and then moved onto sandwiches. During the work, I popped a few bites of discarded apple peel into my mouth as I went along. A few minutes later, Heidi stopped me as I was working on the boiled eggs for the egg salad. “Um, I think you’re having an allergy reaction. Your neck is turning red.” (Unfortunately, all my neighbors know the signs after the recent Lavender Soap incident.)

“Ok. In a few minutes, I’ll take a Benadryl.”

“Maybe you should take it now,” she said. “I’ll go get it.” I obediently took the Benadryl and continued working. Unfortunately, the reaction continued as well. I ended up with a swollen neck and puffy face. My throat and mouth were swelling and hurting as well. After another Benadryl and canceling my guests’ arrival, the reaction began to subside. I made my neighbors come in to eat the food while I sat there on the bed feeling silly and pitiful under my blanket.

I do have great neighbors. They ate the food, helped clean up, made my copies for the next day, and even laughed at me (wait, that was coughing!). I even received a hand and neck massage from Josie and Heidi. I missed our ladies book study, but they were thinking of me and that was so helpful.

After consideration and teamwork deduction, we decided that it must have been the unwashed apples that were the culprits. I must be allergic to whatever had been sprayed onto the peels. This morning that was confirmed when I ate some of the apple cake for breakfast. I thought there wouldn’t be any pesticide on the chopped apple baked into the cake. The little bit that was there was enough to cause a reaction in the middle of my first class! I quickly took the Benadryl I carry everywhere now and wondered how my students would respond if I keeled over in the middle of their quiz. PTL that I did not, and it was an uneventful class for them. Except for that quiz.

I’m thankful that I don’t have the severe food allergies of my little nephew Heath Michael, but it does confirm my sister’s believe that there was a mistake and she really got my child.

My neighbor Justin has been teaching me lessons about community. It all started months ago, after I complained once again about the noisy person who lived directly above me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t stand a little noise. Our dorm has quite a bit of hallway and stairway noise most of the time. It seemed to me that this upstairs person was re-arranging her furniture or building a construction project in her room: lots of banging and dragging and slamming. The noises seemed to be loudest at the worst times, midnight or five in the morning!

After patiently listening to my complaints on one occasion, Justin said something like this, “Whenever I’m bothered by noise here, I try to let it remind me to be thankful that I’m part of a community.”

Perhaps it wasn’t his purpose, but I was rebuked. Community is an important concept to Justin. It’s more than the idea of a neighborhood park or a block party. He feels very strongly that G has provided for us to live in communities, both our community of the people of G and the unbelievers around us, for our good and His glory. There are many good purposes in community: encouragement, sanctification, evangelism, etc. (I’m sure his explanation would be better than mine.)

The thing is, I totally agree with Justin. I also believe community is an important part of G’s plan. I try to demonstrate by love for G and others through my involvement in my different levels of community. Justin, however, is often better at it than I. Not many neighbors would respond graciously when I randomly wake them with a desire to borrow eggs for a baking “emergency”, especially at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning. This is one extreme example of his consistent kindness.

I’ve been sharing with my ladies book study group things I learn from Justin about community. But this week, I learned some unexpected lessons from the “white board situation.”

For a long time, I’ve had a Disney Princess white board hanging on the outside of my room door. It’s where I post my status, whether I’m in or out, where I’ve gone, or messages for others. People leave me messages there. Sometimes the white board will have a poll or quote or continuing story. A few days ago, I returned to my room to find that my empty white board had a sentence on it. “Justin is out.” Ok. Admittedly, it was funny. I mean, how much more funny can you get than having one person’s info on another person’s door? From inside my room, I could hear people laugh at it all afternoon. It was funnier as Justin’s status began changing. “Justin is in.” And then, “Justin is taking over this board.”

I decided to begin to protest. “Get your own board.” “Justin lives down there (big arrow) in room 407.” This last sentence was highly ineffective since Justin added to it the line, “but he’s not in now because he’s teaching.” You know me, I love a good, pointless fight. I filed a stronger complaint on the board, using words like “writing indiscriminately” and “serious consequences.” I even threatened to put my own status updates on Justin’s facebook wall in retaliation.
This was all still a joke, but after reading other friends’ input on facebook regarding the white board “war”, I decided that enough was enough. “Good grief,” I thought. “Think of everything he shares with you. You can give in and share the stupid white board.” I also had a secondary suspicion that, if the purpose of Justin’s writing was simply to annoy me, then it would cease anyway once I capitulated.

I was wrong. First, he doubted my sincerity. “No, I’m sincere. I’ll share it.” To prove my point, I put sections on the board. “Justin’s part, Karyn’s part, everyone else’s part.” Justin’s response turned a game into an unexpected moment of conviction.

“It’s not about me having a part of the board. It’s about us sharing it in community.”

Sharing. Giving. What is the value of giving or sharing if it’s always on my terms or completely under my control? Yeah, it’s just a little old white board, but it’s MY white board. You can all write on it but never forget that it’s still MINE. How many other times to I give to others or to the L, and it’s a conditional gift? Do I ever really share without limits to protect myself or my interests?

This story, in itself, illustrates the value of community. Interpersonal exchanges in our common, every day lives can be the tools He uses to “provoke us to love and to good works”, to prod us to consider our own walk in a different light.

I went out to the board on my door and erased all the partitions. “Karyn is in and is ready to share,” I wrote on it. Later I returned to see an addition. “She is so cool and nice to Justin, who is in.”