From an article about Rick Warren's biography:

"...the purpose-driven life strongly insists that only through Jesus can one find the right way to live and for that reason, the individual must understand how powerless he or she is in the face of God's commanding authority... The secret to Warren's success is that he found people responsible for their own success in life and convinced them that it was all due to God.
This is certainly the way he talks about his own fame. "God makes the waves; surfers just ride them" is how he puts it. "Our job as church leaders, like experienced surfers, is to recognize God's spirit and ride it." For Warren and those to whom he preaches, worldly accomplishments matter but so does God's grace. American and capitalist values instruct us that we rise in life due to our own efforts. Warren teaches above all that it happens because we are fulfilling God's plan. The combination is irresistible: We can take pride in what we have become without viewing ourselves as selfish egoists."

Ahh, it makes so much sense now, why something seems amiss when I hear glowing stories of personal success spoken with the breath of humble piety.  It's a great mindset for doing well and feeling good, for amassing power and wealth with a simpleton's clear conscience.  But I just don't buy it anymore.

Am I making things too complicated for myself by thinking that God is much more difficult to understand than a wave generator at the wave pool?  Or that I am responsible for much more than just floating and paddling to where the tide seems strongest?  I am not an instrument, not a ball of clay, not a yoked ox at the end of a whip.

All the things I am instead, all the things God could be (or not be)... well, even the surface of these complexities is making me neurotic.  By claiming more power and responsibility for my actions, I'm probably just going to feel more unsure and out of control.  I guess I won't be founding my own mega-church anytime soon.

I hope to get a bit of that wave-magic back sometime soon, though this time I'll have to hold myself accountable for its direction, strength, shape, etc.  Statistically, people who are illogically optimistic are much happier and more effective than their more realistic counterparts, and good gawd I'd never get out of bed if I always felt this confused about life.  I hope I make a good wave.

Hi friends and family,

Something was abloom in Changsha!  The mild breeze would bring in some delicate fragrance that turned out to be from the Sweet Osmanthus trees planted all over the city.  It was lovely bliss, and then it was gone two weeks later.  Really, the one time it smells awesome in China, and it's gone just like that.  Not cool.

Last week was National Holiday Week in China, when the whole country gets a week off to flood into the tourist sites... in large tour buses, of course.  I got to attend one such tour with 80 other teachers from my school, and we celebrated the birth of the People's Republic of China by visiting the revolutionary mountain of Jinggangshan (井岡山).  This was where the Communists fled to regroup after being massacred by the Nationalists, a.k.a. my grandfathers.  Fortunately it turned out to be just your basic Chinese tour group experience of being carted off from place to place and taking lots of posed pictures.  Arvin and I noted that the other teachers 1) eat really, really fast, and 2) only need to drink 1 bottle of water per day.  The 6-hour bus rides were torture because the buses played one disc of patriotic music videos on repeat for several hours.  This version of "Love My China" is pretty awesome though, mostly because the whole choir is white, but if you'd like to see the version I got stuck watching over and over, enjoy this.

It was fun overall, especially getting to see the other teachers outside of school.  No one asked me awkward questions about my Taiwanese background, except maybe to tell me in a reassuring way that politics don't matter much to them.  At the Revolutionary Museum, propaganda murals and sculptures of heroic soldiers suffering at the hands of "the enemy" had me thinking about my own internal compass of right and wrong.  War drives people to do extreme things, and what side you land on, what you would kill and die for, can be so random.  Maybe a kind CPC soldier kept my farm safe.  Maybe I lived in a KMT-controlled city.  Maybe I read Marx before anyone could tell me to reject it.  Maybe my role models were on the KMT side.  It was easy for me to put myself in the shoes of someone living during those turbulent times, how blindly and passionately I would have fought for my side, whichever that happened to be.  And I decided that whether I was a hero or bandit, I would have been much more willing to kill and loot.  How fluid we are on the inside, how easily we can take on the shape assigned by context.

After we got back, Arvin and I headed off again with five other WorldTeachers to the beautiful Zhangjiajie National Forest Park (张家界).  We hiked around seven kilometers the first day, yet I am still alive and I still have friends.  The other Asian-American in our group wasn't there for the first day, so it was me with my four foreigner friends.  I asked all the questions, ordered all the food, negotiated all the prices, and told all the solicitors to scram.  My friends followed me like ducklings in need of direction and protection.  I became the de facto Tour Guide, and it felt good... or at least better than the usual assumptions of Translator or Chinese Girlfriend/Wife.  I had to make quite a few shady cash deals to get us transportation, but all of them worked out and we managed to see everything we wanted to see.  The scenery is amazing and speaks for itself, so you can check out my photos of my two holiday trips.

We all got back to our respective schools on Wednesday night, and by Thursday afternoon we were all suffering some combination of vomiting, fever, and chills.  Hurrah for my first bout of food poisoning in Hunan!  I was miserable all day, groaning in bed and hiding under my blanket because I was too weak to kill the mosquito that was buzzing around my head.  At least it didn't turn out to be swine flu like I'd feared.  The very next day, Friday, I was back to a full day of teaching, even though I usually don't have to teach on Fridays.  Yep, in true nerdy style, the school had decided to make up the classes missed during the holiday by holding them during the weekend.  Friday, Saturday, and Sunday became my "Wednesday," "Friday," and "Thursday"... in that order.  See, there's plenty of creativity in Chinese schools!

If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading!  I've also added some pictures of daily life in my rural town, and you can see them on Flickr.  I've definitely appreciated updates on what's going on with you, so please keep 'em coming!

Eat some broccoli for me; there's only cauliflower here,

Jenn

I was too slow in signing up for vaguely interesting online classes at SMC to keep my CPA license active.  So now I might have to take a Mon-Thurs 8AM class at PCC called "Microcomputing Applications -- Accounting."  Or attempt to take online classes from China during the fall, but that's kind of risky.  Good God maybe that's enough reason to go inactive.  How incredibly boring does that class sound??  I've taken a whole bunch of accounting classes, and this may be the worst one yet.  I'm seriously considering this just so I'll have something to get up for in the morning.

Ms had the following observations of my mental state: I'm half fanciful child, half business woman.  I guess the conflict between these halves just makes me one angsty teen.  Or a ridiculous, vacillating quarterlifer.

Oooh, and Up was a delightfully adorable, insightful, uplifting, touching, and hilarious movie.

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