October Fading

This morning, I spent two hours 监考ing (proctoring) as my students sat for their English mid-term. This is the reason I haven’t really posted for the last two weeks, that I’ve not replied to as many emails as I ought to have, that I’ve been even more of a sugar fiend than usual. Two weeks ago was when we found out about this thing. We knew there'd be a mid-term, but we didn't know when. Thus, instead of teaching class at a normal pace, Mark and I spent two weeks absolutely scrambling to cram four lessons into a very, very short time. It was tense and annoying and meant extra classes (sometimes twice a day). My exam papers are currently sitting on my desk, awaiting my red pen, and I’m scared to even begin to look. The crowning jewel of this whole situation? Wednesday night, as I was running an extra class before our two-hour evening study, Mark walked into my classroom and informed me that he’d just been told the mid-term only covered lessons 1-4—not, as we’d thought, 1-6. At least it was before class, so I could plan an on-the-spot review session instead of shoveling more of lesson six down my students’ throats.

I’ve proctored my students’ 40-45 minute tests a few times since the beginning of the year, but this is the first time I’ve been in an all-day testing zone since last year. Elizabeth Hall International Elementary takes state testing very, very seriously. It’s a Title I school, and there’s always concern about not making AYP. Last spring, I spent four mornings sitting in the hallway outside the 3^rd-5^th grade hallway, listening to the eerie sound of silence (believe me, if you spent any time in this school you’d understand) and reading a book. I’d traded my normal tutor/mentor hat for that of monitor, assisting any teacher who opened his or her classroom door with a question or request. On the last of these four mornings, I noticed that I had a missed call and voicemail from a number that was in a really weird format. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt, I listened to the message, and uttered a miniscule squeak as I heard my CEI admissions offer. My co-worker, another hall monitor who’d been downstairs for a minute, came back up, and I hissed “I got it!” at him. Then I proceeded to bounce in my seat until such time as it was permissible to go back into the office and squeak for real.

Anyway, things have continued to be much better around here than they were before. Although I know it could always come back, I’d say that I’m officially out of my funk, which is a relief. I’ve still got life issues (like the sugar thing…. I’m pretty sure I’ve gained some weight and so I need to seriously cut back) and classroom issues (like constant chatter and my three kids who haven’t turned in homework since I can remember) and homesick issues (man, Minnesota autumn, how I miss you), but ultimately I feel more settled here and more content.

Now I have a few stories to share:

Learning How to Take a Compliment

So, this Monday all the seventh graders had to take an English test. I did not write this test, nor was I able to see a copy prior to the administering of the test, so I really didn’t know what to expect. After the test was over, the seventh grade English teachers all sat down to grade. There were several excellent questions, but this one definitely takes the cake. Mark and I were cracking up (probably not very nice, since the other teachers were there, but seriously….)

“Your watch is very nice.” A) No, it isn’t. B) Yes. C) Thank you.

No, no, China. Thank you. And thank you local teachers for not running the questions by, y’know, the native speakers in your midst.

Giving Locals a Taste of Their Own Medicine

I’m normally very nice about people staring at me and saying hello, but a couple weeks ago I was in the city, having embarked upon a wild goose chase to collect my parents’ package from the states. I had to find two post offices and try to explain my situation, and ultimately it wasn’t at either of them. (It’s arrived since—more on that in a bit.) As I was walking back across town to catch the bus home, I saw a group of what looked to be high school students clumped on the sidewalk ahead of me. As expected, they stared and giggled and a few pointed. I expected the customary “Hello” followed by even more giggles, but instead what I got was “Oh, 老外！老外！”

Laowai, or “old outsider,” is a very common term for foreigners in China, and I hear it a lot. Usually I don’t pay it much notice beyond, perhaps, a small smile, but these kids kept saying it over and over, whispering at first among themselves and then repeating more loudly as I grew closer. Finally I’d had it, and I replied. “老外？啊，中国人！怎么办？！？”(“Foreigner? Oh, Chinese people! What am I going to do?”) They just kinda stared in shock after that, and I continued along my way.

Now, like I said, I normally don’t get annoyed with locals’ fascination with me, but I guess I get annoyed when people assume I don’t understand anything that’s being said. I might not be able to follow a whole conversation, especially when said conversation is conducted in a dialogue other than Mandarin (an extremely common occurrence, here in the Bai region), but I understand key words. If I didn’t have at least some knowledge of how to speak Chinese, there’s really no way I could survive here. I’d be fine in Beijing or Shanghai, or even in Dali or Lijiang, probably, but you can’t live three kilometers from Heqing and expect to be able to do things like eat and get in and out of town without a half-decent Chinese level.

A Taste of Home

The elusive aforementioned package, when it eventually arrived, came not to the post office but to the school itself. This was very exciting, because it meant I didn’t have to carry it from town back home. Packages from the States are freakin’ expensive. My parents filled one of those large flat rate boxes, and it was fifty-five bucks. Needless to say, I don’t expect too many to come my way. Not wanting this to be a Christmas Morning-like experience of bunches of new stuff all at once followed by the “Oh, there’s nothing left under the tree” moment, I decided to make this package last. Hence, I’ve been taking out one goodie a day, and, since most of said goodies are relatively small, I’ve been able to do this for over two weeks. I have three things left, and I’m pretty sure they’re oregano, a book, and a box of tea. But we shall see.

So far I’ve taken out a book, a cami, a sweater, a pair of socks, vanilla extract, ground cinnamon, TWO containers of dried basil, cocoa powder (powdered gold, more like), stain stick, pictures I forgot to pack when I left, a CD from a dear friend that I can’t listen to ‘til December because it’s Christmas music, a card from my Mom that now lives on the ledge beside my bed, two boxes of Yogi tea, and some Shabbat candles along with my candlesticks. I got a little teary when I pulled those out. I’d missed my candlesticks, but I didn’t think to ask for them when I made my list. They live under my coffee table now, except on Friday nights (like this one), when they live on top of my coffee table and, burning brightly, remind me of people and places that I love.

I also got my first written correspondence—a postcard from the Grand Canyon, via Richmond, VA. It lives on my bedside table and makes me very happy indeed. Now that I know where both the Heqing post offices are, I need to write about a half dozen letters. Email’s awesome, and I honestly don’t know how I’d deal without it, but seeing people’s handwriting is awfully amazing.

A Halloween Huodong (Activity)

So every month the Heqing fellows get a 600 kuai budget for a fellow-organized activity. A different school’s in charge each month, and this one’s ours. Due to the fact that this gathering will be occurring tomorrow, we decided to go with a Halloween-like theme. I am quite excited indeed. Fellows from the other two schools will arrive in the mid-Afternoon and we’ll go on a walk or something around the area. Then we’re going to eat dinner, and then we’re going to have some excellent hangout time. This hangout time will include much chocolate cake, made by me tomorrow morning. This is great, because it lets me bake without feeling guilty for a) eating way too much, or b) spending money on baking supplies and then giving away everything I bake to other people. Right now, I’ve got like 60-70 kuai’s worth of Dove bars sitting in my kitchen. I’m going to try a chocolate layer cake with some sort of chocolate icing/glaze, made with neither butter nor powdered sugar. We'll see how it goes I’m also going to do an apple crisp demonstration/class after dinner tomorrow, so that other fellows might learn how to make this very easy stove-top dish in the comfort of their own homes. And YiMing, who’s currently in Dali, is buying candy so we can sorta go trick-or-treating. It should be fun for Chinese and American fellows alike. Now I just need a costume….

Social Times

YiMing’s birthday was on the 21^st. He’s 27 now, making him almost four years older than me and ten years and a day older than my youngest sister. We took him out for dinner, and then later that night I made a cinnamon apple cake and we threw him a quasi-surprise party. This party resulted in all four Pengtun fellows sitting in Ma LiJun’s room, attacking my cake with a spoon, since we didn’t have proper plates, drinking relatively icky red wine that Ma LiJun enjoys, and just…chilling. The next night, we did the same thing (minus the cake and wine and plus tea). The second night, Yi Ming and Mark played chess while Ma LiJun looked at a book and I knit, all four of us chatting a bit, when suddenly we heard giggles and turned to see students peaking in through the slightly ajar door. Clearly they wanted to know all about the scandalous Friday night activities of these four young teachers, but somehow I doubt they came away with much of a story. Anyway, I wouldn’t go so far as to call our hangout a breakthrough, since it’s not like we’ve done this a thousand times since, but it was definitely a start, and I’m grateful.

Pengtun Cooking- Chocolate Zucchini Cake with Clementine-Honey Glaze

It’s been awhile without a post, I know, but things have gotten suddenly super busy around here. This is one of the few lulls I’ve had for awhile. I do intend to write about my day-to-day stuff soon, but for now I’m just sharing this, since I started it a week ago and only need to finish it up.

It occurs to me that, as much as I’ve alluded to my various cooking adventures, I have yet to actually do any sort of cooking/baking-focused posts. When I got here, I spent a lot of time googling all things rice cooker baking-related. I didn’t find a ton. I haven’t found much info in general that connects to foodie cooking in limited kitchens. However, I’ve experimented, and while some experiments have been less than successful, others have been glorious. Thus, I’m beginning today the dissemination of said successes. Granted, I have neither measuring cups nor temperatures nor actual baking/cooking times, so everything is very approximate, but perhaps these recipes will serve as inspiration for others in my shoes. Rice cooker baking is possible, it’s not a disaster to experiment with, and sometimes it turns out quite well indeed.

I begin with this cake because it was, aside from banana bread, perhaps my most successful rice cooker endeavor yet.

Chocolate-Zucchini Cake with Clementine-Honey Glaze

• Half a large zucchini (about 1 cup), grated
• 1/3 cup brown sugar
• 1/3 cup white sugar
• 1 egg
• ¼ cup milk (I used whole, ‘cause it’s what’s here, but I bet other types would work too)
• 2-3 TBS vegetable oil, plus more to grease the rice cooker (Note: I realize that this is very little oil, and if I were baking in a traditional oven I would likely increase it, but the steaming process doesn’t require as much. Plus, milk here is all whole milk, so there’s additional fat content there)
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• ½ tsp salt
• a scant ¼ cup cocoa powder
• dash cinnamon
• about 1-1 ½ cups flour. How much will depend. You want a thick but easily pourable batter.
• about 1 large chocolate bar (3-4 oz, maybe?) chopped. Or you could use ½-3/4 cups chocolate chips, if you’re in a place with such things

Quick breads and cakes are things you’re supposed to be careful with. You’re supposed to mix the wets and dries separately, combining swiftly so as to keep the baking soda from reacting before getting into the oven. I have never been so precise, but especially since entering my new abode all such procedure has gone out the window.

I usually start with the egg, because that way I can beat it before adding anything else. Then I throw in the sugars and oil and milk and mix. I would also have added vanilla extract if I had it at the time, but I didn’t. After that, it’s time for the dries. You can mix them separately, which makes incorporating the cocoa powder a bit easier, or just throw the dries into the big bowl one by one.

Finally, mix in the grated zucchini and the chocolate chips/chunks. You should have a thick but pourable batter. If it's too watery, add more flour. If too thick, add milk or oil. Transfer to your greased rice cooker (or, y’know, a loaf pan, if you are in possession of an oven), spreading to even out the batter if necessary, and start the cook cycle.

I usually end up doing two cook cycles, with period of maybe 15 minutes in between while the cooker cools down. Every rice cooker is different though; some even have cake cycles. Sometimes my cakes don’t cook through before the bottom burns, but I’ve found that flipping the cake, while yielding a more evenly-cooked baked good, is usually less than conducive to keeping said cake in one piece. Depending on whether the cake is one to be shared or to be gobbled in private the “to flip or not to flip” debate can lead to different conclusions. However, this cake cooked through so well that flipping was unnecessary. Luck, perhaps, or maybe it was just the zucchini thanking me for using it in such an utterly unexpected way (as far as Chinese born-and-raised zucchini are concerned).

Once the cake is done, flip it onto a plate. I usually do this by using the rice server to loosen the cake as much as possible, very quickly flipping removing the rice pan and turning it upside-down, praying all the while that the cake drops out.

Glaze:

• One small Clementine (or perhaps ¼ of a typical orange), juiced, peel reserved
• 2-3 TBS sugar
• 2-3 TBS water
• 3-4 TBS milk
• 1 TBS honey
• dash cinnamon

Combine the sugar, water, Clementine peel, and juice in a saucepan (or skillet, since that’s what I had) and simmer, adding the milk after the sugar is mostly melted. Watch it carefully, stirring to keep from burning (quite a feat, on a hot plate), and add more milk or sugar as necessary to reach a thin syrupy texture.

Use a toothpick to poke holes all over the top of the cake, then spoon the glaze on. Eat and be blissful.

So there you have it. If anybody out there is another budding rice cooker baker, I’d love to hear about it. We can swap horror/success stories. And hopefully the next time some poor displaced American foodie googles rice cooker baking, he/she’ll have a few more options.

L'Shana Tovah

It’s Erev Rosh Hashanah—the beginning of the Jewish New Year. I got out of class about forty minutes ago, at 8:30 PM, and came back here to my room, to do whatever prayers I could. I don’t have a proper prayer book of my own, but I found a rather unallowable copy of a mahzor online and downloaded it. Of course, most of what I’m doing this Rosh Hashanah would be considered unkosher by many. I’m not attending services, I’m working, I’m on my computer, and I’m praying completely by myself. I’ve lit Shabbat candles alone on many an occasion, and I’ve done Hanukkah alone, but being without a Jewish community for the High Holy Days is new for me.

This isn’t my first time celebrating in China. When I studied abroad, I attended services at Kehillat Beijing, a liberal alternative to Chabad. It was an almost entirely ex-pat congregation, with some folks just around for a year or two and others who’d spent most of their adult lives in China. I remember being surprised by the familiarity of it all, from the prayer books to the food to the little kids in kippas running up and down the aisle. Although I didn’t go to services regularly during that semester, I really appreciated the welcoming people I found there, and if I ever move to Beijing I’ll definitely get involved.

The last two years, of course, I’ve been in Minnesota, where I was given the incredible opportunity to lead services at Mac. I learned a good chunk of the Conservative mahzor and was able to spend the time with a community I truly love. I miss that now, in the same way that I missed my childhood congregation in Virginia when my family moved to New Jersey. At this point though, I’d take almost any Jewish community.

Judaism is very much a communal religion. Technically, you’re not even supposed to do many prayers without a minyan—a group of ten people (or ten men, depending on how Conservative you are). I’ve never spent a Rosh Hashanah I can remember without a service of some sort, without a group of people who share some background with me. I’m the only Jew in Pengtun. It’s quite possible I’m the only Jew in Heqing, in fact. There are a fair number of Israeli tourists up in Lijiang and down in Dali, but as far as I know nobody put any sort of Rosh Hashanah thing together.

I wouldn’t exactly say that I’m sad. It’s just…quite different, especially when contrasted with the last two years. As is the case with everything here, I’m having to make adjustments, decide on my absolutes, and find a balance.

So, in terms of Rosh Hashanah, I decided it wasn’t a good idea to skip my classes. I could have, fairly easily, switched with another teacher, but I felt like without the justification of services there was no reason for me to do so. I'd only be alone, instead of with people, and when you're celebrating the birthday of the world, I think it makes sense to be with people--even my little Chinese students. (Yom Kippur’s different. It’s a Saturday this year, but if it weren’t I would definitely skip.) As it happens, Thursdays I have all my classes from 11:15-3:45, so the morning and later afternoon are completely free. I plan to do what I can in terms of replicating a service in my room tomorrow morning, although I’m missing some key components (like, you know, a torah. And a tallit. And a shofar. And a congregation). Aside from that, I’ll probably take a walk next to the lake/marsh by the school. I’ll take some time to feel the world.

The weather’s changing. It’s back to grey and white today, but Monday morning the clouds were made of wisps, licking the tops of the mountains. We could see them properly—surrounding Pengtun, scratching the sky, sunlight catching on patches of earth. Monday night, Mary and I took a walk out to the road that runs by the rice paddies behind the school. It was pitch black, enough so that we had to be careful not to fall into the rice paddies, and the heavens were full. I’ve grown so accustomed to cloudy nights that the number of stars I could see took me by surprise. Blue skies, and starry nights, never fail to make me at least slightly more cheerful, and while I’ve never forgotten what a special place I’m in, Monday made it easier to keep in mind.

I did, also, make honey cake today. It came out surprisingly well, all things considered. It’s certainly not as good as an oven-baked one, but my little rice cooker is a fighter. I had to use instant coffee though, and I didn’t have vanilla, or lemon juice. Oh well. It still tastes good. I have an apple on reserve for tomorrow as well, and, of course, more honey. There will also be a rice cooker challah in the works at some point in the near future. I’m a bit more nervous about how that’ll turn out. Needless to say, it will not be a pretty braided loaf, but maybe I can spiral it…?

I was thinking, earlier this week, how amazing it will be to have not one, not two, but three New Years in this place. Rosh Hashanah is the first, and then January, and finally the Chinese New Year—which will be mine: rabbit. I’m provided with a lot of good excuses for reflection. What kind of a person do I want to be this year? By the time the year of the rabbit rolls around, what do I want to look back and smile at from the proceeding months?

The answers to some of those questions are obvious. I want to be a person better equipped in terms of linguistic and cultural understanding, and I want to be a better teacher. I want to have mastered the art of cooking pancakes on a hot plate. All of those things, I think, will develop naturally, just by virtue of my being here (and loving pancakes). But I also want to be more outgoing. I want to embrace my world here in a way that, so far, I’ve been reticent to. I want to get more comfortable with being uncomfortable, in such a way that what’s uncomfortable for me now stops being such.

For now, I’m lucky to be able to take these ten Days of Awe as true time for thought.

Rice Cooker Baking!!!!

Oh my gosh, I have absolutely no updates of note/pretty prose for you all right now. What I do have is MOST MOMENTOUS NEWS that has just been brought to my attention.

I have been informed that it is not only possible but in fact easy to bake bread/cake/whatever...in a rice cooker! Obviously I can't do this until I move to Heqing and acquire a rice cooker, but dude dude dude. The future looks so bright right now.