Whoo, Boy! Did I go off
on a tear last post, or what? Can you tell this situation really bothers me?
Again I plunge into the depths of thought, analyzing one culture’s more against
the other. This whole week I spent thinking, thinking and thinking some more.
Observing, asking questions, having conversations… trying to understand this
phenomenon.
Lancy called. AGAIN! Not
feeling it proper to run away from her forever, I took the phone call. It
lasted twenty minutes and again mostly consisted of her admonishing me to get
rest, not work hard, take it easy, eat good food and get good sleep. Of her
accident – getting run over by a motorbike and ending up in the hospital, very
little was said. Only that she did not want me to worry and everything is OK
now.
I found out about her
accident via Tristan, our mutual friend. He will resurface later in this entry.
For now, my dealings with Lancy. Again I appealed to her that, if we’re going
to be friends we should be on even keel. If something happens with her I’d like
to know about it, and I promise that I will tell her if something happens with
me.
It amazes me that, when
such a topic comes up, my Chinese friends somehow lose the ability to
understand English. No, not all my Chinese friends. Only the female ones.
On Saturday I taught my
first session at the Lil’Uns school. Lea, as always was supportive and helpful,
genuinely sweet. Treacle tart sweet. Cloyingly, nauseatingly, chokingly sweet.
Mid-lesson I made the mistake of confiding in her that I could feel an allergy
attack coming on by the swelling of my eye (VERY strange feeling, let me tell
you!). Immediately she took over the class as though I were completely
incapacitated. OH, NO!! When I told her about my eye swelling, I was just sharing
a feeling, not implying I could no longer manage my class of 6 small
girls!
I miss the days when Lea
and I were just friends. I could share my feelings with her and she would
empathize, but was one step removed. Since we’ve started in this business
together she has made me her business. She tells me what I can and cannot do. How
to board a bus and how to cross a street. When I confided to her that Sam is
arranging a volunteer opportunity for me to visit country village schools as a
guest teacher this summer she took it upon herself to decide that that was too
much work for me.
Later, having discussed
schedules and after I thought that matter was finished, I shared with her that
I would like to bring my friend Sam to meet her and her husband. She immediately
enjoined: “Yes, you bring Sam (Teacher Song) here. I will make him understand
that you should not do too much work.”
Why does she not think
I’m capable of managing my own life? Furthermore, what if volunteering in small
villages is something I want to do? (It is.) In the good old days when we were
just friends I was managing just fine. OOPS!!!! There I go, ranting, again.
That’s not the point I wanted to make.
My point is that I’m
being cared to death. I’m being respected and venerated straight out to
pasture. Lea and Lancy’s ministrations make me feel old, useless and stupid.
Since speculating on this
subject I’ve taken to really looking at the old folks from the OTW community
who amble aimlessly around our campus. Mostly the women. Their eyes
inscrutable, hands behind their back they stroll, rolling gait announcing their
lack of direction or purpose. These are not people who, after raising this
generation of movers and shakers, and caring for their children’s progeny are
enjoying their golden years. These are women who long to be seen as still
valuable. Women who, but for cultural edict could contribute plenty to their
family and to society. These women, coming from a generation that relegated
females to second class status are most likely uneducated, maybe even
illiterate. They cannot delve into a good book or even entertain themselves by
watching television.
They do not understand
the national language – Putonghua, what everyone in movies and on TV speaks.
They only speak and understand their regional dialect. At age sixty, after they
are deemed too old or too venerable, they are no longer required to help take
care of grandchildren, shop, cook or even clean the house. Besides, their
grandchildren are most likely in school, leaving them with nothing to do all
day but sun themselves, gather on the corner and chat like magpies or hide
their resentment at having been relegated to worthlessness by virtue of deep
respect.
Conversely, men the same
age still retain some worth, if only intellectual, or holding of patriarchal
power. Traditional Chinese society is, of course, patriarchal. Whereas mothers
are debased to the status of nags ready for the glue factory, fathers are truly
elevated in status. Whatever the family’s eldest male says is what goes, no
matter how the rest of the family feels.
Older men in China are in
fact revered. The finest cuts of meat, the best portions of vegetables and the
most comfortable chair are reserved for them. If an elderly couple boards the
bus and there is only one seat available, the woman will forsake sitting in
favor of their mate occupying it. With no qualms these men do in fact sit while
their spouses remain standing.
The family’s elder male opinion
is solicited before any decision is made regarding finance or life choice. Even
a child’s – male or female – choice of mate is offered up for scrutiny, and
this elder’s opinion and decision is in fact adhered to.
When old men amble around
campus it is usually with a measure of vigor. They can be seen with their head
held high, swinging their arms as they walk about. Their gait is more peppy and
their eyes do not reflect that horrible vacancy and shameful frustration of
being deemed useless. Old men are just as likely to nap extensively during the
day as they are to while the afternoon away, reading or playing cards or
checkers. Any activity of theirs is considered acceptable to the younger
generation left to care for them. To my knowledge, no one ever tells old men
they must rest, relax, or no do too much. They are in fact encouraged to do as
much as they’d like, and resources are made available to them to pursue any
passion they might have.
Gary grew to understand
that I do not need to be constantly admonished to care, nor do I need to be
constantly watched over when we descended into the giant crater last year. (See
Am I ever going to tell you where we went and what we did?’ entry, posted
November 2011) After about three fourths of the way down where alternately Gary
and Mask lagged behind to ensure my safety, and Gary even volunteered to pay
for a porter to carry me out should the exercise become too much for me, I
snapped at them both that I certainly can manage to climb a few (thousand)
stairs and to just let the mother hen act go. Since then Gary has learned that
I’m well worth my salt as a traveling companion and has never since mentioned
that I need to be careful, take it easy and relax.
I had a great
conversation with Tristan a few nights ago. Remember: he and I have Lancy as a
mutual friend. He expressed what a great girl she is. REALLY a terrific person.
Honestly, I could not agree with him more. Lancy is truly a gem of a girl:
sweet, devoted, doting, caring… caring me to death.
Somehow I was able to
make Tristan understand that, while I ‘get’ the Chinese cultural edict that
requires younger ‘family’ members to care for seniors – mostly women, the level
and extent of caring expressed does not make me feel loved, respected or
venerated at all.
It makes me feel old,
useless and stupid.
Sam had to agree with me.
There is a world of difference in how older men and older women are treated. He
averred that, come time for his parents to need such a level of care, it will
be up to him and his wife to do the caring. He already anticipates long, meaningful
conversations with his father, while Penny will be admonishing her mother in
law to just sit, relax and do nothing.
Somehow I just can’t see
Sam’s spunky, fun loving, passionate mother being put out to pasture. Maybe I
should talk with her and learn how to handle being esteemed into uselessness.
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