Do We Want to Be the Church?

"Going to church" is a concept completely foreign to the Bible.

The church is not a building. It's not a place to go.
The church is not an event. It's not an activity to do.
The church is not a club. It's not a game to play.

Rather, the church is something to BE. It is the bride of Christ, the living breathing children of God.

Do we really want to be the church?

I've been thinking about this question quite a bit over the past few weeks. Ever since I was asked by an elder with whom I meet regularly. In no real particular order, below are some of the questions I've been asking myself:

• Do I really want to "do life" with other brothers and sisters in Christ?
• Do I really want the church more than I want my life lived my way?
• Do I really want my time with the church to be dominated by talk of Christ?
• Am I willing for my home to be shared with the church?
• Am I willing to simply drop by others' homes?
• Am I willing for others to simply drop by my home at any time?
• Am I willing to have a completely disruptable life?
• Am I willing to live within "life distance" from others rather than driving distance?
• Am I willing to live in a neighborhood "below my means" to live among the church?
• Am I willing to live in a home that may be "too small" to live among the church?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my routines for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my leisure activities for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to eat what I'd rather not for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to change my plans for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to arrange my schedule for the benefit of the church rather than myself?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my children's activities for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to sacrifice my children's homework time for the sake of the church?
• Am I willing to disrupt my children's routines for the sake of the church?
• Do I really want my children to experience the church rather than "Sunday school"?
• Do I really want to children to experience the church more than what the world has to offer?

In essence, am I willing to sacrifice "my"?

Questions I continue to ponder.

Liberal? Conservative? Christian?

I posted a question with a link to this blog post from the Village church: Jesus was a Refuge. I liked the conversation that followed, so I'm posting it sans identifying names. I've tried to preserve the discussion streams as well.
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ORIGINAL POST: Why do people think refugee care is a "liberal" matter?

Person A: A better question might be, what does Jesus and Conservatism have to do with each other? The American Jesus has almost nothing to do with Biblical Jesus. Serving refugees is not liberal, it is Godly and righteous. Not serving refugees is against God's Biblic [sic] commands and is a reflection of a rotten plant, one destined for fire.

Person B: The two parties have split and become divided to the point that when one promotes something, the other feels the need to reject it. That and the playing on fears and internal nativism that has become a big part of the GOP. Before 2000, the environment wasn't a "liberal" matter, but since Gore was a huge promoter of environmental regulation it became one. Up until this election, refugees weren't as much of a liberal issue, but over the last four years (with fears started with Honduran refugees) they have become one. It seems to just be whatever your "team" wants and if you disagree, you are just expected to take one for the team.

ME: That's somewhat what I've been thinking [referring to Person A's comment]. On some issues I fall "left". Why? Because Jesus seemed to, so I feel like I have to. One some issues I fall "right". Why? Because Jesus seemed to, so I feel I have to. Am I not supposed to follow Jesus above all else?

ME: I don't mean to throw out my own mind, but priorities are needed. And I need to call good what Jesus called good.

Person A: I agree. 

Paul says that if you want to live a Godly life, you will be persecuted.
Jesus was persecuted by the religious authority in his day. The same basic authorites that also killed all the prophets.

The religious authority today is American Christianity. 

Anyone who wants to really follow Jesus today should expect "Christians" to be the primary source for persecution. These "Christians" are not our brothers and sisters in Christ, they are sons and daughters of satan, just as the Jews who persecuted Jesus in his day were.

This is hard to swallow, I get it. I am torn even writing it now but what other realistic conclusion is there?

This does not mean that every church or every christian is bad. There were Pharisees who followed Jesus while other Pharisees persecuted him. But it is interesting to note that Jesus was a little short with Nicodemus too. 

I wonder if what blinds us to the truth is A) our basic belief that america is a christian nation and B) our trained loyalty to the church? 

We struggle not with what we think we should do but with doing it because of those two. Maybe we have submitted ourselves to the wrong authorities (nationalism and Pharaseeism). 

I have been reading Isaiah to the kids recently and have been impressed by how angry God gets over fairly simple things. God's anger in the first few chapters is over Isreal's [sic] empty sacrifices because of their continual sin. Their sin? They did not "defend the oppressed, take up the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow" (1:17). This idea is repeated in 1:23. 

The sheltering and welcoming of refugees should be embraced by every single Christian in this nation. The fact that it seems most Christians do not is a sign of their destruction not their wisdom.

ME: "The sheltering and welcoming of refugees should be embraced by every single Christian in this nation. The fact that it seems most Christians do not is a sign of their destruction not their wisdom." YES! A thousand times, YES!

Person B: Yes, Scot McKnight goes into this a bit here: Are you Pro-Life or Just Anti-Abortion? He's looking at how Catholics and evangelicals though they have similar issues with beliefs end up in different places.

ME: Kind of like government officials saying "The primary responsibility of government is to keep people safe". Do they only mean "terrorism", or do they mean making sure people have access to life-saving medical care? Or safe water? Or safe air? "Safety" is more inclusive than "terrorism".

Person B: Yes, and people seem to take those other things for granted now (or as in healthcare think they are something that needs to be a part of the market) But I think we can't separate it out like that without seriously neglecting other things.

Person B: I think this is the problem: whenever you elevate one issue above all others, you end up trapped by that issue in the end. Because all Trump has to do is losing claim to be anti-abortion (I doubt he could care less honestly) then he has evangelical support, because that has become the only thing that really matters anymore. Catholics on the other hand have a "pro-life ethic" which means that they look at it all, social justice, the environment, refugees, racial discrimination, education - and by and large end up in a different place. They are bound by a majority of issues together, evangelicals by one issue that is more important than all.

Speaking One's Mind? Really?

I agree with speaking one's mind. I believe in being able to express one's opinion. I believe in freedom of religion, speech, the press, and so forth. I have known the 1st Amendment by heart ever since I had to memorize it as an 18-year-old journalism student. To limit people's freedom of speech is not only unconstitutional, but also dangerous.

I also believe that people must take responsibility for what they say, and that we can and should hold others accountable for their words. Not that there's no forgiveness, but that there's accountability.

Therefore, it has long bothered me that “speaking one's mind” is used like a get-out-of-jail-free card that people can play whenever they want to express intentionally offensive or hurtful remarks or when others seek to justify that person's remarks. As if a person doesn't have to be responsible or respectful as long as they are “speaking their minds”. As if accountability is irrelevant as long as a people are "speaking their minds". That's not only illogical, it's also antisocial.

Speaking one's mind, as far as I can tell, should mean that one is able and willing to express unpopular ideas. There are situations when speaking one's mind is just that. For example, if colleagues have one opinion of a supervisor, but you have another. Or when people are ignorant of or blatantly ignoring an elephant in a room. If everyone in your company insists that there is no ongoing sexual discrimination, but you know or believe that there is, it behooves you to speak your mind rather than let injustice persist.

Then there are ways to speak one's mind that are quite socially inappropriate. It is inappropriate, not to mention illegal, to slander someone. It is inappropriate to someone bully someone. Yes, insulting people could be a way to speak one's mind, but it doesn't mean we should simply accept it. That doesn't mean we should excuse it. It certainly doesn't mean that we should praise that person for their willingness to speak their minds, ignoring the actual messages they express.

And here's the ugly reality: We only think it's speaking one's mind when we are not the ones personally insulted. We can say someone is simply speaking their mind when they are calling people of other countries "rapists" or when they are insulting people of a different religion than our own. However, it doesn't seem so acceptable when it is directed towards our own demographic groups.

What if Obama said, “Christians are a bunch of ignorant, uneducated fools.” Is that just him speaking his mind?

What if Hillary Clinton or Michelle Obama quipped, "White American men are redneck, sexist pigs." Is that just her speaking her mind?

What if Paul Ryan remarked, “Divorced women are hard-to-please gold diggers who don't know how to properly take care of their husbands.” Is that just him speaking his mind?

What if Richard Dawkins stated, "Jesus was a clearly a pedophile. He always wanted the children to come to him so that he could 'bless' them. We know what he really wanted." Is that just him speaking his mind?

Or, are these four examples simply remarks that would be promoting ignorant stereotypes? Trying to intentionally stoke anger? Outright race/gender/religion baiting?

I think my worst fear is that I might actually have to answer that rhetorical question.

What we assume that just ain't so (not always, anyway)

What cultural assumption inform your reaction to this photo?

I find it interesting that my workplace is among the most diverse in Arkansas. I don't have statistics to prove this, but the fact that I have colleagues from four different countries (EXcluding the US) and that most of the teaching staff has lived for varying amounts of time out of the US, I think I can safely make that assumption. In addition, everyday we work with only international students, so we have a pretty international worldview as far as US workplaces are concerned.

Yet, I'm often amused (and occasionally disappointed) by how Western and distinctly American is our advice to students. Many a time I've sat in my office listening to an instructor give life advice to a student that has caused me to think, "But that's so outside what they would see as cultural accurate or appropriate!" In any culture, we are often blind to the assumptions that we have about life, about what is most valuable and desirable. Evidently, even those with cross-cultural experience often fail to note it.

 Yesterday I was reading the Minnesota Council of Churches Refugee Services Refugee Co-sponsorship Guide. In it was this list of characteristic descriptors of US culture. I thought it was a good, accurate list.

• A belief in rugged individualism where people see themselves as independent and autonomous, rather than integrally related to a family unit or ethnic group

• A system whereby positions and material resources are given as rewards for personal achievement, not based on need

• A concern for efficiency and for solving problems in a pragmatic way, regardless of personal feelings

• A limited need for privacy, other than physical privacy

• A preference for separation of the elderly from the rest of society

• An acceptance of displays of affection in public

• An expectation that families will often be separated by long distances

• A lack of acceptance of the world as it is and strong efforts to change it

• A view that mental, managerial, and scientific labor is inherently superior to manual and service-oriented labor

• A rational worldview where events can be explained and reasons for particular occurrences can be determined, rather than a belief in fate

• A confidence that people with opposing viewpoints can be faced directly and intentionally confronted

• A social order where the primary motivation is competition rather than cooperation

Your thoughts?

Everyone Needs to Chillax; The Kids are Alright

Let me tell you about my last night in my own apartment in China.

I was packing up boxes and suitcases, getting ready to move in with some friends for the last two weeks of my time in China. My son had gone to sleep, and it was about 12:30 at night. About that time a friend texted or called me (I'm not sure which) and asked if I wanted to go out for shaokao (Chinese BBQ). It was going to be one of if not the last opportunity for us.

What was I to do? I surely couldn't wake my son up. Yet I didn't want to pass up this opportunity. I did what any reasonable father would do: I made sure my son's door was locked, and I went out for shaokao on the streets 18 floors below my apartment.

Now, before you go calling DHS on me, let me take you through my thought process:

• I had lived in the house for several years, and never once has there been a fire. That is, there had been at least 1000 days and no fire.
• In my entire adult life (including several sketchy Chinese dwellings, one with exposed wiring) the only fire I'd ever experienced was a grease fire I myself caused. 
• My apartment had a safety door that makes an American single deadbolt look like a Chinese finger trap game in comparison. No potential kidnappers or worse were getting through that door.
• My son's bedroom windows had bars on them, so although we lived on the 18th floor, it was not possible for him to climb up and fall out of the windows.
• My son had never had any kind of serious problem while sleeping. While sleeping, he had always simply slept.

In all respects, statistically speaking, there was absolutely no harm in leaving him safely locked in his room for one hour while I went just outside to enjoy a meal with a friend.

Could I ever do that in the US? A local friend of mine (a native Arkansan) grew up in France. He said it's common for parents to go out for a nightcap after children have gone to bed. Others have told me similar stories of other countries. In many (possibly most) parts of the world, this kind of life is normal. It's not seen his negligence. Its not seen as uncaring or irresponsible. It's simply life in the knowledge that the occasional accident is probably not going to happen. Not that it won't, mind you, but that the likelihood is statistically insignificant.

It seems that many in the US people would think of me as a terrible or irresponsible parent. If I did the same in the US (and people knew about it), I'd be risking a visit from child welfare authorities. Somehow here in the US however we've lost all sensibility. Somehow honest recognition of risk has turned into outright paranoia. Somehow awareness of potential danger has caused our society to react with overbearing policing to the peril of reasonable parenting.

Everyone just needs to chillax. The kids are alright.

*A previous version of this post somehow de-published itself and reverted to an old draft. This post is a rewritten version, and it is unfortunately not as good as the first, in my opinion. I apologize.

Between two selves

Present life often seems more like a child's scribbles than a well-composed narrative.

How long before I'm whole again? When does the feeling of weightlessness lift? When does life cease to feel like a mirage.

This morning I received an email from one of my closest friends (in China) about his new album, including songs we once performed as a duo and in our short-lived band Tarheel. I quickly downloaded it and ran through the tracks. Memories flooded back as if from a past life. Where am I?

Two months ago I wrote this:

I wake up every morning knowing that I'm in Texas, knowing that I'm at my father's home, knowing that ahead of me is a day of activities mostly revolved around getting a job and getting my family into its own quarters. At the same time, I wake up every day as if in a dream, as if I could wake up and still be in Changsha, in my apartment, in my bed, breathing emphysema-inducing pollution, ready to face a new day.
I'm not really here.

Now two months on, not much has really changed. I have new habits (e.g. making coffee daily as opposed to just on the weekends; checking out library books). I have new craft beers. I have new friends (whom I will soon basically leave behind again). I have a new, much less polluted environment.

But I'm still not fully here.

I suppose I would describe it as being two selves. There was the self I knew, the self of my post-university adulthood. That was the China self, the self that had grown confident, capable, comfortable in its own skin. The China self knew its place in the world, or at least thought it did, which is almost one in the same. The China self is the self of my memories.

Then there's the self I'm still trying to get a feel for: the new US self. This is the self that's somewhat uncomfortable, somewhat ill-fitting, and completely unsure. The US self doesn't know its place. The US self has no cache of memories or anecdotes to draw on. There have been both losses and gains, but the US self still doesn't know how to react.

What happened to China? It seems a world away, and it kind of is. It seems a lifetime ago, if it ever happened at all. Perhaps I'm Rip Van Winkle and I've awoken from a decade-long Chinese nap, bewildered by what has changed and what hasn't.

I'm watching cardinals hop around in my backyard. Cardinals are odd to me. They're completely ill-suited to a green environment, yet they persist, they survive, and they even seem to thrive.

The world is full of awesome flavors! (If you give them a chance...)

"If a food is going to help forge a cultural identity, it must be an acquired taste, not a universal one."

(Michael Pollan, Cooked)

A package of kugua (bitter melon) from an Asian market in Arlington: a sight not beheld in most local supermarkets.

Coffee or baijiu?
Bitter melon or grapefruit?
Cheese or stinky tofu?

Which of these foods and beverages have you consumed? Which do you like? Which wouldn’t you even try?

While in China, I watched my wife gain a fondness for coffee, black coffee to be precise. Most in China only drink the heavily sugared and creamed versions. She long ago acquired a taste for cheese. I don't mean pizza, but cheese, real cheese. Just a few days ago, she remarked that she now enjoys grapefruit, and plain grapefruit at that, which may be more my influence than US cultural influence.

As for me, among many other tastes, I’ve acquired a taste for baijiu, a very strong flavored Chinese liquor that averages around 110 proof and is largely panned by non-Chinese. Kugua (bitter melon) is a vegetable I don’t really dare make for most Americans, but it’s a diet staple I miss now. Stinky tofu was never my favorite, but it's not bad, and I must admit to loving the packaged stinky tofu packets people sent us from China.

One of the more intriguing (and frustrating) ideas I’ve encountered, both in China and the US, is the idea of “not liking” a food. Specifically, not liking a food that is fairly common in another culture but not in that culture. The reality is that people generally don’t really dislike any food, even strongly flavored foods; they have merely not acquired an appreciation for it.

Foods with strong flavors, especially in the sour and bitter realms, and foods with strong aromas are all acquired tastes. Coffee is not something most people naturally like. People in China routinely remarked, “Oh, it’s too bitter,” when I decline sugar or cream. Nor is baijiu a natural preference, as Westerners routinely metaphorically compare it to paint thinner or worse. At least, I hope they aren't actually drinking paint thinner on the side.

Whether it's cheese for western folk (and these more European than American), stinky tofu for Chinese, kimchi in Korea, or hákarl (rotten shark) in Iceland, these are foods that aren't automatically enjoyed. These are tastes and textures, flavors and fragrances that have been acquired as people grow up in their cultures. They aren't universally enjoyed, like french fries. They aren't easy on the palate like birthday cake. They are difficult, yet acquirable. And they can be acquired by adults, if only we let ourselves.

Watching my wife acquire new tastes, I can’t help but love her more. She’s gastronomically adventurous. When we were first married, the idea of eating steamed carrots sans salt or oil was bewildering to her. She thought they were tasteless. Eventually, she started tasting the natural sweetness and now loves them.

It bothers me when I meet non-Chinese who continually speak negatively of baijiu after having it once or twice (or even a dozen times). It bothers me when Chinese try whiskies or tequilas and automatically pronounce them “no good”. In general, it bothers me that people say they “don’t like” something and therefore don’t eat it, especially if they say it a lot. I understand having preferences. I understand declining foods for health reasons, which I often do, as long as I'm not someone's guest. But rejecting a food or drink, especially one made for you, that seems both ill-mannered as well as ignorant of how taste preferences can and do evolve.

Why would anyone choose to limit their palate?

Fatherhood and "danger" in the US

Standing on the edge having just climbed the retaining wall

In China I somewhat prided myself in the fact that we let our son do things that many Chinese parents and grandparents simply would not let their kids do. I liked that my son did "dangerous" things like jumping off ledges twice as tall as himself, climbing ladders a month after he started walking, putting sand on his head, running on the grass. (Yes, I've actually heard Chinese grandparents tell their grandchildren not to run while on grass because it's dangerous.)

Now in the US I find myself nervous. I know CPS employees and hear their stories. I hear other parents comment about what kids can and can't do. I feel like I'm on a fence, trying not to fall off into the "irresponsible parent" side.

Here are some questions I've found myself asking, some to myself and some out loud, some more ridiculous than others:

• If I get a tricycle for my son, will he need a bike helmet?
• Is it okay that I let him run around the backyard shoeless, knowing that there are occasional sand burrs in the grass?
• Can I just let him play in the mud in the mostly dry creek bed?
• People won't think we're neglecting him because his hair is long, will they?
• It's okay to let him climb up the retaining wall, right?
• Should I tell him not to walk on top of the retaining wall?
• Will I get blamed if he gets bit by a snake or a black widow?

I know why I'm nervous. It seems all Chinese have heard the story (it may have been a movie) of a Chinese parent losing custody of their children in the US after giving the child a cupping treatment. Cupping is thought to prevent certain illnesses, and the process leads to large bruises. In the US, this was considered abuse. I've been asked by many Chinese, "Is this true? Would police really take away children for this?"

I don't know if CPS would take children away for cupping or not. If so, it really reveals a lack of cultural knowledge and a hypersensitive idea of what constitutes a danger to a child's wellbeing.

But could they? It has me worried. How crazy is it in the US now?

The scary thing is that I don't know. The funny thing is also that I don't know.

Both homes have their strengths and weaknesses

I naturally gravitate towards thoughts of what I lack rather than what I have. I have to remind myself to look at what I already have and have been given. I would guess most people naturally do the same, but I don't want to presume too much.

Unexpectedly back in the US, I have to remind myself often of the good things I have here. People in China used to ask me whether China or the US was a better place. I used to respond that they both have strengths and weaknesses. Now I remind myself that my life in both places, though different, had and have both good aspects and not as good. Let me alternate through a few, eleven to be exact.

Advantage US: The food is safer here. That is, we worry less that unsafe food is going to hurt us.

Advantage China: Changsha has public transit; it's wonderful. The US built up around car culture, and now we all basically need them and their accompanying expenses. I hate it on a daily basis.

Advantage US: The air is cleaner here. The air pollution in Changsha is is nothing to sneeze at (but coughing is certainly likely).

Advantage China: In Changsha, basically everything you needed for daily life could be obtained just outside your door. In the US, residential and business areas are often quite separate.


Advantage US: In the US, my son can get the medical care he needs. In Changsha, he'd would already undoubtedly be mentally handicapped. (This is obviously a HUGE plus for the US.)

Advantage China: In Changsha my kids had regular playmates. I mean, we walk outside and there are all the kids in the development playing together outside. Here... You all know what it's like in the US: play dates, meeting times, etc. My kids have take a huge social step back.


Advantage US: In the US, I don't have to think about people going crazy about my kids, trying to touch them, prod them, etc. Here we're just a normal family, which I appreciate.

Advantage China: I miss the the renao, the commotion, of China. Social activities and social venues might be loud and busy in the States, but they're nothing line Changsha. On a recent date with my wife, did we pick a quite romantic location? Nope. It was a loud "grill and bar"/ We felt right at home.


Advantage US: The internet in the US is wide open, so I don't need a vpn to access internet content or blog. If I couldn't access Youtube, I'd have no way to take the courses in which I'm currently enrolled.

Advantage China: I had better reading times in Changsha. The 45-60 minutes I spent on buses commuting to and from work were great reading times. Now I'm busy at home (like I was in Changsha). I will be busy at work (like I was in Changsha). But given the lack of public transportation options in most of the US, reading times have become harder to locate.


Advantage US: The US public library system is amazing! Of course it could be better, as could all things, but I certainly won't complain.

Advantage (mostly) China: We're now considered a low-income family. That just adds a stressor I didn't have before. In other ways it's a positive: It will force us to be more creative; we'll rely more on faith; we'll truly be laobaixing. And I can be thankful that China taught me to be low demand with regards to my material environment.

Different communities

Saturday evening my wife an I went on our first date since early October. It was everything I could've hoped for. We had coffee. She drove in an empty parking lot. We had dinner. We shopped a bit. I joked about leaving town and not coming back.

It was a rough 5+ months. Obviously we should not wait so long between dates, so why did we wait so long?

There's a certain cultural adjustment that needed to be made and will continue to be needed: Babysitting.

In China, this was so much easier for us.

On one hand, there were a relatively large number of expats (not all American or even North American) who were willing to watch our kids. Some even asked to do so, inviting us to go out. Here the important factor was not entirely cultural, but mostly relational. We'd been there a long time. We knew people we could trust. People knew us and wanted to help. The only cultural aspect was that expats seem to become more helpful toward and rely on one another a bit more than people do in the US, so asking for help is less awkward.

The bigger cultural difference is family.

In the US I have to recognize that my parents have their own lives. They have their own friends, their own interests, and their own events, all of which need to be considered. Given that living with them is already a major act of generosity on their part, asking even more help to watch kids is a bit sensitive. At least, it feels that way to us.

Things aren't the same in China. It's not that Liao Sha's parents don't have their own lives, their own friends, their own interests, etc. It simply that family trumps all in China. As my wife has said, "Family are the only people you never have to worry about asking for help." We didn't overuse their help, but we didn't feel constrained from asking either.

I'm not blaming my parents or praising Liao Sha's. It's simply that the culture is different, and in lieu of having enough money for a trustworthy babysitter or living near people who can/will take care of your children, adjustments need to be made. We're still in the adjustment process.

Are relationships supposed to be considered distractions?

Leaving the local public library this morning after the children's story time, I overheard a conversation between two mothers. It dealt with where they chose to do their grocery shopping. It was distinctly American.

The relevant part and point of agreement went something like this:

I don't go to Brookshire's to shop because every time I go I run into someone I know. You stop and chat, and then it takes an hour to finish everything.

It caught my cultural attention because it exemplified a very American value: efficiency. The problem was that running into people one knows requires an investment in time. This time investment disrupts the person's carefully constructed schedule, thus lowering efficiency. Socializing is at odds with productivity. In the end, this mother considered the social aspects of life a distraction from efficient use of time.

I simply can't imagine this being generally true in China. Isn't running into people the very thing that makes shopping enjoyable? Yes, people in China are also busy. In many ways they have less free time than their US counterparts. But that someone would desire efficiency over meeting friends or even acquaintances is virtually unthinkable. Occasionally one might be in a bad mood and prefer to be alone, but it's not a trend. I daresay that meeting people when doing one's shopping is the preferred phenomenon. Efficiency and productivity does not trump social interaction.

There's a lot more that could be said, but it's enough to draw attention to the distinctly different value system. It caught me off guard. Not knowing anyone in this city, I never run into people I know. This encounter reminded me that I'm in a different place.

American isolationism

How do you throw a birthday party in China? Take food out to the playground. The guests will already be there.

The US has anything but an isolationist foreign policy. This seems to be in stark contrast to the way modern life and society seem to work in the US. At least that's my take on it.

I am an extrovert (though not as out-going as I'd like), and I have been almost continually lonely since I've been back to the US. Yes, my wife and children are around me. Yes, I see family everyday, as we still live together. My reprieves are two morning men's groups (Thursday at 6:30 a.m. and Friday at 6:00 a.m.), a Tuesday night gathering of mostly young families, and Sunday late morning and early afternoon at a Chinese church in Fort Worth. This may seem like a lot to some, but it's a struggle for me.

Part of the blame is my own. Despite trying to live as normally as possible in this small town, I admit that I've neglected to pursue a few community involvement ideas simply because I know I could be gone at basically any time. Also, not yet having a job, living off the charity of others, it doesn't seem wise to go out to social events that require spending. And with the cold winter we're having in the US, people aren't outside hanging out much. Options are limited.

Where do people congregate here? Perhaps a better question is whether people do congregate. To hear people talk, once out of college, you've basically got bars and churches. I find the habits I'd built in China are all but useless right now. There aren't dozens of people and children just walking around outside in a central location, playing, talking, laughing. There aren't events like English corners or  discussion just popping up for no reason other than to have one. There aren't hundreds of people who are all next-door neighbors.

Of course there are other factors. Living with my family, for example, means it's not my home. I can't just invite people over, especially not families with young children. Nevertheless, even if we were in our own place, I suspect it would be difficult. Makes me yearn for the days of apartment living.

What non-work, non-church, non-bar things do you do you to meet people and socialize in the US?

What are parents for?

What would you ask your parents to do for you? What wouldn't you ask them to do? Do you worry about burdening them? About asking too much?

The last whole family picture (minus sister-in-law and nephew) taken in China

Being in the US living with my family has shed light on a major area of cultural difference between how my wife and I view our relationships to our parents, and if I be so bold, between Americans and Chinese in general. It is a clear division between collectivist and individualist thinking. It causes me not a little tension.

Since we've been in the US, we've had to ask Liao Sha's mother and father to help us do numerous things back in Changsha. Some of these things have required them to spend money. All of them have required expenditures of time. One day I expressed that I feel bad that we're here but still bothering them so much, that we're still interfering in their lives. Liao Sha looked at me and said, "We don't think like that. Parents are the only people we never have to worry about bothering."

I don't think like that here with my family. I am constantly doing chores so as to "do my fair share." We make sure to buy enough vegetables and whatnot so that everyone can eat, figuring (a) it's the least we can do given that we're not paying rent and are interfering with their daily lives, and (b) it's a way of "pulling our own weight". Whereas if in Changsha, we'd be training Amos to comfort himself to sleep, we don't dare do so here for fear of bothering everyone.

Do you see the contrast? Raised in an individualist, highly independence-minded culture, living with my parents is embarrassing enough without causing extra strain on them. Thus, I worry about being a burden. Raised in a collectivist, community-minded culture, living with parents would be completely normal, and asking parents for help is 理所当然, a matter of course. Thus, Liao Sha lives at complete ease, never worrying about being a burden to her family.

What do I want my sons to know? How do I want my sons to think about Liao Sha and me when they grow up? I imagine the healthiest of views is somewhere in the middle, but how do we get there?

马年快乐！Happy Year of the Horse!

(A version of this post was originally posted here on my more professional blog.)

Being back in the US for Chinese New Year (Spring Festival) has been odd for both my wife and I. For her, it's the first time she's ever been away from her family over Spring Festival. For me, I simply miss a festival that had become such an important part of my life. Last Thursday night I even ended up watching performances from the CCTV Spring Festival Gala (春晚) on Youtube with my eldest son. The family eating together at the end of this performance made me cry.

Making jiaozi during a Spring Festival of yesteryear.

I thought for this post I'd simply share a few things that I love, or at least miss, about Chinese New Year in China. These are in no particular order.

1. Baijiu (白酒) with the menfolk

Foreigners tend to unfairly bash baijiu (Chinese "white" liquor) to no end, and I admit that it took effort for me to acquire a taste for the stuff. Nevertheless, drinking with my father-in-law and other male relatives had become a highlight of every holiday and birthday celebration. It bonded us together. It's when I really felt one with them, and I may be so bold as to say it's when they felt most at home with me. Effect of mild intoxication? Hardly. I'll give the simple explanation people gave me: This is Chinese culture. If you really dive into Chinese culture, you'll find that is really the perfect explanation.

2. Fireworks

OK, I don't really miss the fireworks. I mean, between the air pollution, the 5:00 a.m. (if you're lucky) wakeup call, and the constant use that makes one crazy on about day four, it's not really something I could miss. Still, not a single firework? Not even one?! It's a bit disappointing. 真扫兴！

3. Preserved meats (腊肉)

Not only did I miss meat-hanging season, but now I don't get to eat any myself! 非常扫兴！

4. Big family dinners

Not all Chinese families are large, but my wife's is. Aside from New Years Eve, when it was just us, her parents, her brother, and her brother's wife, Spring Festival dinners usually hosted no less than 20 people. Day after day, home after home, dinner after dinner. Eventually I grew sick of all the food and renao, but I miss being a part of it. In the words of Joni Mitchell (or glam metal band Cinderella), "You don't know what you've got, till [sic] it's gone."

5. Seeing the joy on my wife's face and on the faces of the children (mine and others')

Last Friday morning I asked my wife if she wanted to stay here on Saturday and make jiaozi (Chinese dumplings) with my family or go to the Chinese church to celebrate with them. Eventually she decided to stay home and teach my family how to make jiaozi. We made filling, made the wraps, and made the jiaozi all while listening to the CCTV Spring Festival Gala. Eventually she remarked that she finally felt a little of the Chinese New Year spirit. Before that moment, I had mourned that the Spring Festival delight that had always been present in previous years was not in her eyes this year. Not seeing her delight gave me a sense of loss, as well. At least I saw a glimmer Saturday evening.

Making jiaozi this year.

So, readers: If you've experienced Chinese New Year but are spending Spring Festival 2014 abroad, what do you miss?