Participant Background: Zoe Pastorfeld-Li has been teaching in Yantai, China since August, 2008 on Cultural Embrace's Teach in China program. She has extended to teach in China for another year, and we would like to share an old blog that she sent during her return back to the States, between her semester break.

I miss you already and still; being home was so good. MD/DC, New York and the Bay Area in Cali were all self-affirming in their own right, and I felt equally at home in each place. I realized what I love so dearly about America besides the obvious- family (by blood or bond).

Namely I love America for the music and diversity. It hit me that I was going back to China when I was boarding my flight from LA to Seoul and everyone was Asian. Don't get me wrong, I love em all, but I realized it would be a long time until someone asked me what's really good? or que onda? It would be a long time before I heard a live MC with something worth saying or a piano player that could wash my brain and soul with his improvisations.

These realizations make me proud to be American, and when I rock my giant Obama pin around Yantai I know people can see it in my eyes.

I miss my family and I miss America, and I now realize they are one and the same. When I first got to New York I felt a bit disoriented. I remember saying, "I am not here for the city, I'm really just here to see people." I knew once I had uttered the words that I was only trying to dupe myself, but it took the unfurling of the trip to realize that New York is the people and the people are New York, and the same for DC and the same for San Fran, ad noseum. The absence I feel in my heart when I am not in these places with you, is a pain that gives me strength and regenerates my confidence in what I am doing, seeing all that you are doing to become more courageous, wiser and kinder people.

Gandhi said we must be the change we wish to see in the world. And Lauryn Hill reminds me that change comes slow or not at all. My Dad echoed this truth by relating a Japanese organizational method for achieving true, but very slowly achieved change. This method was put into practice by a man who wanted to lose weight but simply loved french fries. Rather than try and kick the habit all at once, he began the first day of his diet by throwing away one fry and eating the rest. The next day he threw away two, and the third day three, and so on.

Zoe with her Mongolian hosts

-Contributed by Zoe Pastorfield-Li
  Cultural Embrace's Teach in China participant 2008-2010

Participant Background: Zoe recently finished her summer program teaching English in Yantai, China, a beautiful seaport city located in northeastern province, Shandong. Before her fall term begins, Zoe was invited by one of her students, June, to visit her family and home town in Inner Mongolia. Below is a contribution from Zoe about some of her China adventures, focusing on a trip taken to Inner Mongolia during her vacation break.

Tomorrow I leave for Inner Mongolia with June. Yesterday she met a couple of other friends and me at Yangma Dao (coastal island in Shandong, China). The three of us biked there while June and two others took a taxi. June had never swam before and when we met up with them Rain (another student) and June were carrying their sun umbrellas and trying to keep their balance in impractical shoes, over big stones and sharp rocks against a pretty rough incoming tide. June was shrieking for the first 15 minutes and I had a moment where I was a little worried about how things would go in the Mongolian grasslands. (Women in China tend to be very “girly-girlish” because that's how they've been raised.) But, once she got used to the water she wouldn't quit trying to learn new things – she wanted to learn how to kick, paddle and blow bubbles all at once. It was really cool. There was this transformation right before my eyes of girly girl gone very determined woman.

I am really looking forward to our trip. I hope to study and practice Chinese a lot, watch a lot of Olympics on TV with various people around Baotou and of course, see the grasslands and visit her family's farm.

In Mongolia, I stayed in my student, June's, family's house. The two room, bathroom-less home full of natural light that poured in through the courtyard windows, facing the full and sagging apple trees, had been more than adequate space to house and feed as many as ten people at any given time – assorted cousins, grandmas, sister-in-law's... each with their own relation and Chinese name denoting the unique connection. My name was simply Laoshi ("Teacher") which they called me reverently, even when unable to suppress their laughter at my funny, often unintelligible accent:

"Laoshi, hao chi ma?"
"Hao chi!"

"Does it taste good?"
"Yes, delicious!"

This single call and response we were able to exchange was fitting as the trip was certainly a culinary experiment and a successful one at that.This was more or less the extent of our verbal communication, which presented an ideal situation for me, as I usually prefer to be quiet but always feel compelled to rush to any conversational lull.

My first day there I was informed we'd go to June's grandfather's house on the communal farmlands and kill one of his sheep. Admittedly, during the actual event, I turned to watch the other sheep that was spared while June's father tore his knife through the sheep's throat. Seeing the other sheep turn from first curious to then horrified as it watched on, was enough to reflect the reality of the situation.

The tethered sheep kicked and convulsed briefly and then it was over – time to prepare the body, remove the fur and butcher the meat.

Having just gotten over an 11 year bout of vegetarianism, this was definitely a new experience. Sitting next to the bagged carcass that would be my sustenance for the remainder of the trip…it was still warm and constantly bumping into me along the pot-holed dirt roads. It was absurdly hilarious, I felt like a gangster with evidence that needed to be tossed over a bridge.

Three hours after returning home the sheep was prepared and I immediately wanted to know, anatomically, what I was consuming. The family thought it was very funny when I would ask them, very seriously while pointing into my bowl of soup, "Is this the same sheep?" It took about six days to kick this habit of imagining exactly what part of the sheep I was eating (lower rib? stomach? leg?).

Sometimes my food game was more challenging, especially when the meat was brown, cubed and of regular texture. Other times it was painfully obvious as when June and I were each handed a leg shin and hoof, still bent at the joint as if it had hopped up onto the table itself. June's mother encouraged me to chew on the tendons and seek out the cartilage. The whole experience was bewildering, but I wasn't going to be rude and say no to one of the most coveted parts of the seasonal feast. (...when in Rome?...)

Ultimately, each meal was delicious, nutritious and, most importantly, cooked with love.

In the small kitchen (4x12 ft) we washed our hair in plastic basins, squatted on rainy days with the washboard to clean our clothes, and three times a day June's mother carried in coal to light the stove that heated one large wok-like pot.After lunch the whole family would divide up among the two beds for a nap. I shared the bed then and also at night with grandparents, nephews, aunts and cousins. One night I woke up after rolling on June's mother –  my hand on her leg! She just rolled me back and covered my bare arm with the blanket and soon we were snoozing again.

At the end of a beautiful two weeks in Inner Mongolia I felt sad to leave…. But was reminded of something one of my students said to me in farewell was "be happy everyday." I realized that a lot of people here actually achieve this. Happiness is the default mode, not the resultative. It has a lot to do with thinking less, staying in the moment, and taking joy out of serving others. I am not there yet, but I am certainly inspired to make every effort.