Love and Be Loved

I am not one to complain about adverse weather conditions. I mean, the boisterousness of my beard alone thwarts the efforts of most inclement storms and blizzards, but sometimes excitement can turn to trepidation with little more than a change in the weather. A few weekends ago I was wrestling with feelings of agitation, and despite my selfish tendencies I experienced one of the most amazing days in China. Our destination was an orphanage that was located on the outskirts of Beijing. It housed kids that were neglected and/or abandoned by their parents.

The night before our trip, I had more-than-willingly stayed up late to talk on Skype. It doesn't matter who it was, but suffice it to say that I love her and it wasn't my mother. When I woke up the rain started falling. I was thinking about my perfect rain jacket that was uselessly decorating a coat rack back at my apartment. Classic fail. My next string of thoughts was obsessed with the consequences of my negligence. I would quite possibly be miserable for the rest of the day. Thankfully, only parts of me would become absolutely soaked. I was trying to look at the bright side of things despite the lack of sunshine.

To get to our destination we had to utilize the following modes of transportation (listed in order of experience):  taxi, walk, subway, train, walk, (get lost), back on train, walk, bus, and walk. Walking was done in the rain, so was waiting for the taxi and bus. Here’s the thing though, I am not necessarily complaining about the rain in general because normally I love it. In fact, I have A LOT of fond memories in the rain. However on this particular day at that particular temperature, it was highly undesirable.

Halfway through our three-hour excursion out of the city I started laughing. The scene was ridiculous. I was a part of a 14 person group that was traveling with bags of clothes, bins of desserts, and bunches of candy (alliteration is sometimes more important to me than making complete sense). I figured in that situation the only helpful response was to laugh. Therefore, I discussed my mini-epiphany with a few of my peers and we totally lost it.

At that moment, after standing in the pouring rain for half an hour wearing nothing more than a soaked hoodie, holey shoes, and my favorite worn out corduroys, and while carrying a 40lb bag of clothes, my body felt miserable but my spirits felt amazing. In that moment, I was making a choice. To be joyful or sorrowful.  Little did I know that this string of unfortunate instances would make my time at the orphanage so much sweeter. I find stark contrasts of life fascinating because they reveal a lot about the human experience. For instance, it takes a very broken person to admit that they need to be fixed, even though they were in desperate need all along.

When our drenched group of teachers finally arrived, we were immediately greeted with 10 children with beaming faces. After our presence was made known to the entire orphanage, the group of 10 became to 60+. Their faces betrayed their overwhelming excitement, but most of them were acting very coy. They lived with a few Americans so they were not amazed by our skin color, but our group's size may have been a little bit much at first. Once they realized why we were there, they all started going crazy. Some of the kid’s crazy came out in conversation, while others ran around like wild childs.

For a few hours we played games with them and shared some delicious snacks. With each fleeting minute, the children became more and more fond of our group. It was quickly becoming evident that there wasn’t a single person under that rough that wanted us to leave. It was raining harder outside, the roads were even more flooded, and the children were amazing. Every single one of our teachers lost their hearts to one of the kids there. I cannot think of many other times where my company felt so desired.

They just wanted to be held, talked to, smiled at, and loved. What a privilege to give them those things. A single one of those moments made the round-trip more than just bearable. It was desirable. It was in those moments that my heart confessed that ANY difficulty would have been justified by the chance to love just one of these kids. We became their heroes, and quickly we realized that we did not deserve such adoration from those precious children. Not even for a second. And yet…there we were.

My favorite thing to do during our stay was to grab one of the boys flying around the room and just launch him in air. At first he would gasp and would have a look of bewilderment on his face. A look that told me that this particular experience was unique but not initially fun or desirable. That look would devolve into fear, the kind of fear that is birthed from a humans first near death experience. Finally, the moment would be redeemed by a look of pure joy once they realized I was going to catch them. So good.

Leaving them was miserable. We said our heartache goodbyes and slowly we made our way into the rain. The contrast between the warm atmosphere filled with the giggling, happy children and the harsh raining conditions outdoors was staggering. As our group was leaving I kept running back (like a child) and popping my head around the corner to make some face back all of them. The children kept screaming with joy and could hear the pure thrill in their voices. I did not deserve to have my heart warmed like that, but it was exactly what I needed to make it home with my sanity. One of the helpers there said I could stay the night if I wanted to spend more time with the orphans, and very reluctantly had to decline her kind offer.

The way back would have been much worse than the way there if we had been coming from any other place. Although it took much longer for me to get home and the rain was coming down much harder, the memories I had with those children eclipsed any inkling of frustrations. Since then I have been constantly thinking about them. My entire being longs to be back there with them. I was intrigued by their ability to say farewell while holding a smile, but not surprised. They have had to say goodbye to more people than I could possibly imagine, and in some ways this small act of “abandonment” was familiar to them. There was not a sense of bitterness, just familiarity.

To see such joy overflowing from those whom life has been so very cruel to was inspiring. I need these kinds of reality checks because I am far too comfortable putting up my blinders and focusing on my own life.

Fluidity of this City: A Tale of Urban Life and a Near Death Experience

I find city life truly fascinating. I am not your typical urbanite, for obvious reasons, but I really do love being here in Beijing. A main reason for this enjoyment is that it is so drastically different from anything that I have experienced before. Most other states would consider Maine “cities” to be small villages. Within the average square mile of my state, there are about 100 (or more) times as many trees as there are people. In Beijing, I hardly ever see a tree. I also never see the ocean, ratherer I am constantly swallowed in a sea of Chinese people with the occasional Caucasian or Black person (who will never acknowledge your existence). It is this urban phenomenon that I will humbly begin to explain. It will take more than one blog post to accomplish such a task. Many of my crazy experiences with the city life of Beijing have taken place from the seat of my bike. And by crazy experiences I mean CRAZY experiences.

Beijing is unlike any city that I have been to before. Granted my more permanent state of residence gives me a more holistic perspective, but there are nuances that I gathered early on in my stay. I am not talking about the language or profiles of the natives, because we can understand that from the comforts of our living room. A very evident fluidity allows a city of 13,000,000 people to coexist without utter chaos. We could say that laws and regulations maintain order in any given urban environment, but that is not an accurate description of Beijing.

I want to voice a very foreign discovery I made during my time here. I may come across as slightly naïve, because there is a good chance it is, but I will say it anyways. For the big issues and laws, the Beijing police enforce very strictly. However, officials often oversee many of the “smaller” laws that are created because stupid people do stupid things. Certain traffic laws or daily-life laws are not consistently upheld, and yet there is a very real fluidity. This can be easily seen and experienced the moment you walk out of your apartment building. Here is where my biking stories become pertinent.

I do not easily shy away from difficult circumstance, but I also do not have a lot of experience cycling. So when you mix you get some slightly dangerous situations. I could give you numerous scenarios that would flush out this dangerous paradox. However, neither time nor paper (web page) will permit such a lengthy description, so I will offer you a single story.

Preface:

We have all seen those hard-core cyclists in New York City who fly down the sides and in the middle of the street. These guys are SOOO smooth. You know them. The ones that hit all the tight gaps, cruise past your taxi in bumper-to-bumper traffic, and always have a smirk of satisfaction on their faces because they know that they made the right choice yet again. I do not have ill feelings towards these pros, only envy because they are much freer than I am in those situations. However, these kinds of cyclists do not exist in my part of Beijing.

Story:

On ERAP, we have multiple schools where our 43 teachers are distributed. Two of these campuses house the majority of our teachers, and happen to be the furthest apart. I live and teach at the bigger one of these two schools. On one fine day, I was biking with some fellow ERAPers to the other large school. On the way there the weather was beautiful and the brisk wind was very pleasing. We arrived at the school without a hitch, but on the way, back was…not ideal for those who are overly concerned with safety.

I had to get back earlier than most so Daniel Lyman, one of the returners, headed back early with me. It took us about an hour and 15 minutes on the way there, but on the way back we were slightly lost and still shaved off about half an hour. Ridiculous. That had been a completely new kind of sore that I could not describe.

Bus Side Note: Like most places in the world, at least places that I have been to, buses rule the road. Not by law, but by common sense. “My vehicle is bigger than yours, so you WILL move for me.” I think that is the exact thought running through every bus driver’s head in Beijing. Therefore, when you are biking on the side of the road and cars park in the bike lane, then you must improvise by riding in the street. This can be hazardous to more than just your health.

Daniel and I were cruising down a very busy road, which is common in a 13 million-person city, and we come across some rather large buses. The worse thing about biking along a bus route is that you will pass the bus when it stops, then shortly after are passed by the same bus a couple of minutes later. You can continue to do this for miles and miles. On that day I was still learning the etiquette of this big-vehicle-little-vehicle leapfrog. I decided that I was just going to go for it.

The bus started to pull out, and instead of stopping I sped up. No WAY was I going to let this bus keep passing me then stop just a few minutes afterwards. No way. Therefore, I sped up as fast as my bike and my legs could take me, but I was not the only stubborn one out of the two of us.  I get to a point where I am in between the outer two lanes, during rush hour, pinned between a huge bus and fast traffic. Although it lasted for less than a minute, my heart was pounding like crazy as I was racing this bus accelerating bus to get ahead in the lane.

At what felt like the last possible moment, I pulled ahead of the bus and secured my spot in the lane closest to the sidewalk. The not so happy bus driver, who was now going faster that I was, angrily swerved to the next lane to avoid destroying my bike and me.  I was much obliged, even though my safety was the furthest thing from his mind.

Like most cities, Beijing is like an organism. Different parts have different roles, and with any major (or minor) components missing, the whole thing can potentially falls apart. However, there is another way things can be messed up, a process that I am very much involved with. I call it the “Introduction of Foreign Objects.” Your body attacks such things, but thankfully foreigners are not outlawed in China…but we can complicate things or slow things down. When I bike I am very much thinking about myself, but there is a niche that bikers fill in Beijing and my individualistic nature is constantly rebelling.

 In other cities, especially in the States, we have rules and regulations you have to follow. This makes it easier for us to NOT mess up the system. Just follow the rules, even if you do not understand why they are put in place, and (hopefully) everything will turn out just fine. However, Beijing’s natural order of things stem from very deep cultural beliefs, which creates and maintains an overwhelming desire among it’s people to establish peace with those around them. In other words, to survive in this city well you must understand the culture. The biggest unifying factor in China is not a set of laws, but rather it is a culture that is highly valued among the people. When the Western individuality dogma is imported on a massive scale, it pollutes a very beautiful, communal lifestyle. Yes it isn't perfect, but one would be a liar if they say that our culture is better in every way...but that statement alone creates more introductions than conclusions. So for now, I am done. 

Teaching through the Frustrations

Those that are reading this blog and know me are probably wondering how teaching is going. For those that do not know me I am teaching biology in Beijing at one of the top high schools in all of China. No, the fact that I am working here does not imply that I am a great teacher, or even a mediocre teacher. I am here because I speak English and Cedarville University (where I graduated from) happens to be associated with this prestigious school...and for some reason they actually want someone like me here haha. The teaching has been very good and but the frustrations have also been very real. This past summer I was on the Amazon living on a house boat, and on my frustrating days I like to imagine myself swinging on a hammock while the fresh breeze washes over my body. Oh Beijing, bring me some fresh air so that I don't have to be suffocating on my difficult days. 

Clarification. When I say there are frustrations I do not imply that I am fed up with teaching. In all actuality, I like it a lot, which is good because I will be here until the end of June. However, some very real frustrations affect every class that I teach. I am frustrated for my students. I am frustrated that they do not understand every word that I say. I am frustrated that I am teaching them a subject that focuses on long and complicated vocabulary terms that are hard for even native English speaking, high school students. Here are some pros and cons for teaching my students such difficult material.

Pros:

There are some very helpful aspects of teaching Chinese students a difficult subject in their non-native tongue. It challenges them in a completely new way. Most of them are learning the same material in their Chinese biology class (from a teacher that is much more qualified than me)(which doesn't take much haha), so for now they are simply learning to talk about familiar content so they can learn more English. This allows those that excel in English and those who struggle with English to be stretched, which is what you want in any classroom. Also, some of the students will want to pursue some sort of degree associated with biology, some even in the United States, so it will be important to understand English because it is very pervasive in biology literature and text books.

The most exciting aspect of teaching is our interaction with the students one on one. If we were not teaching them, we would not be spending time with them. What is even more exciting is the distinct privilege that comes with teaching biology, which naturally plants many questions in the student’s minds. Questions that challenge everything they have been taught up to that point. They are finding that some “facts” they had learned are nothing more than religious beliefs. Questions about entropy, the difference between micro and macroevolution, genesis of the first cell and many other topics. Such questions are necessary for a genuine education. In the classroom, it is not good to present only one side of an issue or theory because you do not give students the wonderful opportunity to make their own decisions. Even at a young age, students will develop convictions concerning what they are learning. To inhibit this process of self-reflection is a terrible waste.

Neutrals:

There are some things that are very interesting about teaching this year. First of all, I am growing an insanely large beard. I will be growing it for a total of 4 and a half months, which is a month longer than I have ever gone before. This will probably be the last time in my life I'll be in a position to do such a thing, so I figured I would get it out of my system. The kids thinks its hilarious because it is so foreign to them (pun intended). Also, it is much more culturally acceptable to stare at people, so a sense of, "Something is seriously wrong," is frequently experienced. Obviously I could just hack it off and throw away a month and a half of hard work, but I choose to refrain. There is however something that has come up that I was not expecting and could not help...at first.

After a couple of weeks I started seeing students looking at me and laughing when I walked through the hallways or while I was in the foreign teachers office. It was either laughing or giggling, which is important to distinguish. I thought it was normal because I was not Chinese, but then some weirder stuff happened. A male student came in and he said that people were calling me a CIA agent. I laughed and asked what he was talking about, and he proceeded to tell me that those were the comments that he saw online. Online....what? I was ridiculously confused. He then told me that a number, not just one, of my female students took pictures of me during class and posted them on their Chinese social networking website. Great. I started being greeted by students I didn't have in class and the attention started to increase. This past week I even had a teacher tell me that he saw me online from the same website and I was pretty embarrassed haha. His students had been talking about "handsome Mr. Jacobsen."  Then finally the active effects of a thick beard started to kick in. When my beard was becoming more than slightly unruly, the attention started to fade away. Thank you beard for yet another wonderful benefit: extinguishing the undesired attention of Chinese high school girls.

Cons:

Some of them just cannot do English. By do English I mean they cannot understand and speak, and some cannot even write it well enough to communicate ideas. They become frustrated, which can do one of two things: challenge them to work harder or convince them that the effort is not worth it. I run into the latter quite a bit more than the former. In addition, there is a certain lack of credibility to our classes because the students understand how young we are or how most of us do have high degrees of education. All our teachers have a bachelors of some kind, (many of which has nothing to do with what they are teaching), while only a few have higher degrees. Most of the teachers that speak in English are A level teachers or AP teachers, who all have masters and PhD's. 

Even amidst the frustrations, I know that there are many hearts that are being worked upon all around me. Father has the power to change people’s lives and bring even the youngest of students to Himself. To be used by Him to plant seeds full of questions is a marvelous and rewarding work. I may not see the fruit of all that He does through me on this side of heaven, but I know that Father will get the glory He so righteously craves and deserves. I pray I can be apart of that process. I am excited to be here. I am excited to invest in the lives of my teammates and in the lives of my students. I am excited for God to do something awesome in and around my life. I am excited to learn more about myself and learn what it means to be radically dependent upon Him. 

Fresh Air and Fresh Adventures

    I had a break last week and had a very exciting adventure. Here are the 6 main stages of our trip. Also, I am an extremely slow writer and pretty busy with random stuff all the time...which means I am getting this post up a bit later than the actual events. Not that it matters haha.

stage 1: the plan
     After our plans to go camping in inner Mongolia were thwarted, we needed a new plan. The plan. Most of our team decided to jump on the Shanghai bandwagon (which was fairly appealing save the great expense). My brother Robbie and I had an overwhelming urge to be outside of a city. We craved to breathe out city air and breathe in the great outdoors during our break, so we put another plan into motion. After frustratingly gathering all the supplies, finding a stellar team, and being delayed a day, we solidified the plan and committed to carrying it out. The team consisted of the following members: Stephanie Anderson, Liz Hanna, Jared Marshall, Robbie Carter, and the Boisterous Beard of Beijing (me). Our destination was the section of the Great Wall between Gubeiku and Jinshanlin. We were off.

stage 2: lost in translation
     I think that people often abuse the phrase, "lost in translation." When you don't understand what someone is trying to say, but you understand what language they are speaking, you are not getting lost in translation. One or both people are just experiencing a moment, or moments, of poor communication. Also, when you can't read a sign that is in another language or you are unable to understand someone who is talking in another language, getting lost in translation is not your problem. You just don't know the language. After the first leg our trip, which involved a short city hike and a long on subway ride, we moved above ground to the North Beijing Train Station. That is where we got lost in translation.
     When we arrived at the ticket counter our translator/fellow traveling companion Liz Hanna told the ticket lady where we wanted to go and we think she said that it was an impossible request. Impossible? Our hearts dropped in despair as we witnessed our trip crumbling down around us. But then a China man came to our rescue who spoke English. He graciously helped us figure out what the heck was going on. Or at least tried to help. He told us that the train stopped going to Gubeiku and that the only trains heading in that direction were freight trains. My eyes lit up for a second because I imagined us traveling like a bunch of hobos...but then I remembered it was the 21st century and my life was not a Saturday morning cartoon. Reluctantly we phoned a bunch of friends and found a closer destination. Still excited for the adventures that lay before us, we jumped on the train and headed north.
     About an hour into our train ride we met a man that was printing tickets for people. We asked, "Gubeiku?" Within seconds we had our extended tickets in hand and were heading to our original destination. We sat around for a few moments and asked ourselves, "Why was that so difficult?" Laughing, we shrugged it off and continued playing Monopoly Deal. Oh China, many of your ways are not sensible to Westerners, and we need to apologize more often for assuming that they should or would be.

stage 3: a Great Wall campsite
     After a 3ish hour train ride we arrived at the infamous Gubeiku train station. We hurried off and quickly cased the joint. The Great Wall was many kilometers away, past two towns, and up the side of a mountain. If we were heading anywhere but the Wall our spirits would have been utterly destroyed. But we were on a mission and with hearts inspired by adventure, so we took off.

We made incredible time. Like, amazing time. Within 2 and 1/2 hours we got slightly lost, almost got hit by multiple charter buses, made it through a shanty town, then Gubeiku, avoided a police checkpoint, got chased down by a guy on a moped (who wanted to charge us for walking on the road)(story of any place near the Great Wall), blazed through some farm lands, ascended a small mountain towards the Great Wall, got on the Wall, hiked on some treacherous parts of the Wall, met a bunch of tourists on more restored parts of the Wall, got charged to be on the Wall, and set up shop in a guard tower towards the end of the tourist zone. After the last of the tourists left, we put our tents up and watched the sun set over the mountains. Truly a spectacular sight.
     Now, this is the part of the trip that I realized how truly blessed I was to be there. Breathing in non-polluted air and camping on the Great Wall with a bunch of great friends...incredible. I felt like I was on top of the world. I took off up the wall a little ways to explore some other towers and spent some time praying. I was so thankful to be there, and thankful for all the amazing things He was doing in, through, and around my life. As I looked towards the heavens I saw my first starry sky since arriving in China. You take for granted the natural beauties of His creation until you live without. Truly a remarkable site and a good reminder of His majesty and incredible beauty. Abba is an incredible artist, and I was appreciating this facet of His character in a whole new way. Thank you, China.

stage 4: avoiding the military zone and getting to the next camping site


    I woke up the next morning to a very exasperated China man yelling to his friend. Yelling because he was quite a bit behind and only had the ability to use his lungs and not his legs. Surprisingly, I was ready to start the day early because we had crashed pretty hard the night before out of sheer exhaustion.  We slowly left our tents and quickly regretted our decision. It was cold. Really cold. I'm from Maine and I am used to such conditions, and my beard was treating me REAL nice, but that morning I wasn't expecting such a harsh contrast between the climates of our tent and the tower. We rushed to our packs to layer up and ventured outside. Once bundled up the weather was more than enjoyable. The cool, crisp air was a refreshing reminder that I was incredibly alive and graciously sustained by Someone bigger than myself. Before we got ready to go, we decided to have a quick competition over who could throw a rock the farthest with their weak hand. Robbie won the distance award and Jared won the "look-the-most-ridiculous" award. Yet another random and good moment.

     Once we had everything packed and "met" a few more Chinese tourists that we couldn't communicate with, we headed towards the military zone. We came up to a tower that was cemented shut and was covered by a bunch of huge signs that we guessed said important things. None of us could read them but the razor wire and the gun shots in the distance were helpful translating tools. Yikes. Looking at all the crazy warnings, I was reminded of a sign I once saw. It said, "trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again." Say "no" to trespassing in military zone kids, could be hazardous to your health.
   So we headed off the wall and took a path that took through some farm lands, a shanty village, small mountains and valleys, and a house we assumed belonged to some drug lord. Probably a mule station. It was so sketchy that I half expected to stumble upon some bones...

we started behind the mountain where the arrow is pointing

Finally, we reconvened with the wall. We ended up climbing it because we didn't know there was an easier entrance about a hundred yards away from our location. I scampered up the wall and Jared handed me the packs one by one. Once we were all on top and in a nearby tower we were instantly met by a number of tourists that were completely puzzled by our apparent materialization from the direction of the military zone. Also, we were quite the motley crew and smelled just as fresh as could be. A few of them spoke English which is always a nice change of pace in China.
     We decided that we would explore the area but would come back and camp there for the night. I foolishly ran ahead to the next tower to scout things out, but was quickly confronted by a woman with an official orange vest and a name tag. She wanted 65 RMB to pass. Check no for heck no. I reported my findings to the group who were equally disgusted. We decided to blaze down the mountain in hopes of finding a cheaper exit. And THEN....it happened.

stage 5: the emergency situation
     Up until this point in our adventure we were having an AMAZING time. No bickering, when we got lost it wasn't ever serious and the detours were always welcomed, and no injuries or mishaps whatsoever. Felt incredibly blessed and thanked God for keeping us safe the entire trip because we were in some really remote places. So, with slightly dragging feet, our team made our way down the side of these mountains in the direction of the village Jinshanlin. Here was our line up: I was leading, Jared was behind me, then Liz and Steph (not sure of their order), and finally Robbie taking up the rear. Now I had known for most of the trip that it was not a great idea for me to be leading. Not because I couldn't find my way, but rather I sucked at setting the pace. The entire time I felt like a kid at Chutters (which is the largest candy counter in the world located in Littleton, NH near where my mother grew up). I was cruising whenever I was up front.
     So I was rushing down the mountain with the group keeping pace, and then our trip took a turn, or a slip, for the worst. A patch of loose gravel sent Steph sprawling with her huge pack and she landed on a severed, plant stump or nub. I didn't see her go down but I saw the response afterwards from the other team members. Liz held Steph and was cleaning up the wound. Jared was helping Liz. Robbie was getting a jerry rigged bandage ready that consisted of TP and a wool sock. I was stuck at the front because the path was super narrow, so I just waited and got kind of impatient. I figured it was a scratch or something because the team wasn't freaking out and they didn't ask me to help them. But I was wrong.
    I wasn't told in words that I had made a mistake. Rather, Robbie just passed out. Not only that but he went on to having his first ever seizure. My brain started screaming, "What the heck is going on?" My choice of words may have been slightly different in the moment. Robbie started snorting and his eyes started to roll back into his head. He started sliding down the mountain only to be caught by random shrubbery. The girls started bawling because they thought Robbie was going to die. Our entire trip climaxed in those few moments, on the side of a tiny Chinese mountain. There was no way to fully prepare for it, other than possibly bringing a first aid kit. I went from being slightly annoyed by the situation to extremely aware of it in a matter of moments.
     I dropped my pack, told Jared to put Robbie on his side so he wouldn't choke on his tongue, cleaned out Steph's wound and bandaged it with TP and some medical wrap that we found, then checked back on Robbie. I realized that they weren't freaking out because Steph had a big ole gouge, about a 1/4 inch in diameter, taken out of her calf. I could see inside her leg. I assessed it was a little bit worse than a scratch. After the craziness had died down I suggested to the group that we pay the 65 RMB and head back a night early. All were in agreement.

stage 6: the not-so-great escape
     The trip back was fairly uneventful (thankfully). By now Steph was walking perfectly fine with some drugs in her system. Robbie was going on as if nothing happened, except for the occasional "I am going to pass out in a moment" quips. He enjoyed getting a few rises out of people, and I felt I would be doing the same exact thing after such an episode. We ended up paying a bit more than we intended, but we got back to Beijing by taking a taxi back to Gubeiku then long distance buses back to Beijing. We were slightly aggitated by some of the people we came in contact with and little things kept happening that were annoying, but we made it back in one piece and Steph was sent to the hospital. The next day we woke up late, made some quesadillas and watched a movie together. Perfect way to end our time together.

   I have already talked to much. Which doesn't surprise anyone who knows anything about me. But I will leave you with the moral of our story: pay the workers with orange vests and name tags, because they have the best exit.

introduction

the streets i roam

So you might be asking yourself, “why would you call yourself the ‘boisterous beard of Beijing’, what an odd name.” Here are a few legitimate reasons. First, if you came to Beijing and saw a man with a rather thick beard it is probably me, because the Chinese men have not the capacity to grow a beard and the Europeans have not the desire. Second, I can be outright ridiculous sometimes. Lastly, I like alliteration.

This bearded fellow feels slightly out of place at times. I am a small town guy living in one of the biggest cities in the world. The biggest “city” I have ever lived in is Ellsworth, Maine, which currently has around 9,000 residents. I see three times that many people in a single day. Overwhelming only for those that grew up in the sticks of New England. Slowly this place has been growing on me.

I often feel the urge to break out of this urban environment. Sadly those days of outdoor adventures are few and far between. On the rare occasions I can get out…its amazing. My lungs often scream for fresh air when the smog of the city burn through them, but thankfully it rains from time to time and the caustic air around me is cleansed. So good.

I love the wild side of things, and I am finding that even on the streets of Beijing I can have exciting experiences all the time. This blog is the story of a bearded man, far from home, living with fellow ERAPers, teaching English to students that hardly understand him, struggling with various distances, but all together amazed by how good his Abba is to him. I am not an eloquent speaker, but I am passionate about many things and living adventurously is in my blood. I hope you can find some shreds of enjoyment from reading about those passions and adventures. I hope that this can be real. And I hope to invite any and all readers into the amazing things that are happening in this small part of China.