I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts

-he told me "My name is Ryan; I inherited the ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me.  The man I inherited it from is not the real Dread Pirate Roberts either.  His name was Cummerbund.  The real Roberts has been retired 15 years and living like a king in Patagonia."

Seriously, I have a problem using movie quotes as blog posts titles.  I don't even care.
The past few days the subject of identity has been on my mind.  At our Fellowship meeting on Sunday, our message was about how we do things only so that people will like us and being called the "Like" Generation.  We as humans have such an innate need to be wanted, liked, accepted, we forget that human acceptance is not what truly matters and that other's opinions and thoughts do NOT 'define' who we are.

Yes, I am a teacher and I love my job but I would not say that teaching is what defines me or that being a teacher is who I am as a person.  It's a job. A career that is just one aspect of my life.  I was talking with a friend the other day about our various jobs and responsibilities in China as teachers and I straight up told him teaching my children music was not the most important thing about my job.  I have a firm belief that I have a greater influence on these kids rather than just giving them academic things to learn.  As an educator, I have a responsibility to teach my kids to be better people.  From teaching the first and second graders to be nice to our friends to teaching my high school kids to make safe and smart choices (Thank you Ms. Miller).

In The Princess Bride Buttercup has had a loathing hate for the Dread Pirate Roberts that killed her beloved Westley.  She comes to discover the Westley IS the Dread Pirate Roberts but that the name has passed down through many men and that it was the name itself, not the man, that cast fear into the hearts of men.
My name has been greatly associated with the Queen as many Chinese people always comment she and I have the same name and that my name is royalty. hehehe. But I would certainly not say that Elizabeth is what identifies me as I also am called Liz, Lizzy, Cuz, Miss MacClure, Teacher...among others.

I remember my sophomore year of college finishing up basic theory and sightsinging classes.  I was studying with a friend for a big exam the next day and was really stressing about the test. I told him that I was afraid that the professor would think I was stupid and incapable of learning the subject matter and just performing in general or that I wasn't a devoted student.  My friend gave me a somewhat incredulous look saying, "Elizabeth, I don't know why you're so worried about what others think of you.  It's really only His opinion that is going to matter in the end."  This friend probably has no idea how much his words have stuck with me over the years, but they always seem to come back to mind.


As ending note I must share this funny from last week of a 3rd grade boy. As an intro we were listening to some music and identifying instruments we heard.
Student: Miss McClure? My father? He like to do sex!
Me:  .... I'm sorry...? WHAT?
Student: Sex! My father! He like to do!
Me: What did you say?
Student: (exasperate sigh) SEX Miss McClure! He like to blow SEX!
***At this point, I'm dying on the inside and couldn't contain a giggle escaping and asked the poor boy to repeat himself a final time.***
Student: SEX-APHONE! He like to play SEX-APHONE Miss McClure!!!

I can't make this stuff up people...

Sometimes the person we love, through no fault of his own, can't see past the end of his nose...

"Past the end of his nose?"

Bert: "You know, begging your pardon, the one my heart goes out to is your father. There he is in that cold, heartless bank day after day, hemmed in by mounds of cold, heartless money. I don't like to see any living thing caged up."
Jane: "Father? In a cage?"
Bert: "They makes cages in all sizes and shapes, you know.  Bank-shaped, some of 'em, carpets and all."

I have a feeling I may not publish this blog immediately but I have to write down thoughts now in order to not forget them.  Soon it will be (or has been) exactly 1 year since my dad passed away.  I can remember nearly every event and moment of the last 2 or so hours of my dad's life and I can remember the exact moment that he stopped breathing.  It's hopefully something I never forget either.

4 months later I packed my bags and moved to China.

Around 9 months later, I watched a movie that I had high expectations for and was not disappointed.  I first attended Saving Mr. Banks simply because it was centered around one of my favorite things which, of course, is Disney. Now later, I love and appreciate this movie because of it's deep themes and a special way I relate to it.

Yesterday, for the first time, I tried my feet at slacklining

 

It was a TON a fun but I'm reaping the soreness of it today.  In the pictures are my friend Chris and Sveta and my friend Bri was taking the pictures.  The day/night before I was having a bit of a rough time as I had spent too much time by myself and with my thoughts and was caught up in things I shouldn't focus on.

The short story aside a friend saw the pictures and we messaged a bit about slacklining.  I went to bed not thinking much more of it only to wake up and see two Facebook posts about how his father was recently rushed to the hospital after a massive heart attack only to pass away a few hours later.  This has been the third acquaintance I have known in the span of a year to have their father pass away.  This aches on my heart.
This is the part of the post where I'm just going to start spilling things in my brain:

I don't even know what to say.  I know that in the first 24 hours my dad died was just somewhat of a blur.  I remember SO many people coming over. Countless hugs and a TON of food.  I feel in a way I didn't really respond in the RIGHT way emotionally or in any sense.  The stupid and cliche quotes of, "I'm here if you need anything", "I can't imagine how you feel...", "They have no more suffering."  "It's ok to feel sad and cry." "I'm praying for you and your family." are so meaningless.  Now, I know these people mean well and it may be somewhat insensitive of me to be blunt about it but those are the thoughts.  On the other hand, when people are completely silent and don't say anything at all to me is just as bad.  There is no medium feeling on this.  I first want to start out saying that I loved my dad.  But I tended to sometimes compare my father to others I saw around me.  I never once in my life doubted for a second that my dad loved me but I will admit that I sometimes used to wish he would show his love in other ways than he did or even stupidly comparing him to fathers in movies. My father was never really one to voice his opinions or his emotions at all about things nor did he ever really oppose something someone suggested.  He was really a very easygoing man in his life of two women (my mother and I) that had enough emotions to last him several lifetimes.  He never really acted like he was 'the man' of the house/kingdom and we as the family were his subjects.  As a child, I didn't understand why he wouldn't take more charge or control of the house.  I now understand that it is because he valued, loved, and cared for my mother and me so much that he couldn't possibly wanted to have risked us not being completely happy with something in our lives or felt like we didn't have a say in what went on.  My dad never pushed me away when I would come downstairs and bug him while he was changing the oil or go outside and asked why he was cutting the crab grass and dandelions that I thought artfully decorated our lawn.  Instead of buying me girly, princessy things or trying to buy my affection, my dad's gift to me was his quality time.  We spent countless hours watching movies over the summer, going to auto shops so he could fix something in the cars, going to Burger King, and of course swimming till we were both as red as tomatoes and wrinkly as prunes.  There were many times that I wanted him to give his opinion as a dad or treat me like a little but my father was much more the one to treat me like an adult and told me to trust my own instincts and of my other Father's guidance.  I never really talked to him about boys I ever liked but he never asked because he trusted me that I wasn't going out and making stupid decisions even in college.  The amount of trust my dad had in me astounds me and something I definitely never deserved.

I sometimes remember all the things my dad didn't do which is a reason why Saving Mr. Banks affects me in such a personal way.  In the movie PL Travers loved and respected her father and he was a wonderful father in many ways but she always felt as if she had let him down in someway.  Long story short, Walt Disney has a conversation with her that changes he mind and completely breaks down the wall that Travers wore for so long.  Disney had his own story of a father that he too loved but felt as if he missed some part of his childhood with his dad due to his father's authoritative figure.  Disney tells Travers:

 "I don't tell you this to make you sad...I'm just so tired, Mrs. Travers.  I'm tired of remembering [my childhood] that way.  Aren't you tired, too, Mrs. Travers? Now, we all have our sad tales: but don't you want to finish the story?  Let it all go and have a life that isn't dictated by the past?"

Yes, yes I do, Disney.  Not only in matters regarding my dad my in all matters.  The time when a girl didn't invite me to her birthday party 3 years ago.  I want to let go the time a girl wanted to leave my house early because she was bored hanging out with me.  The times where I made mistakes with people and I want to let go of all the hurt I've ever been dealt by those around me.  This is not to say I will forget as I don't want to forget all those feelings of hurt and resentment I've felt but I'm so tired of feeling that way.  I want to let it all go and have a life that ISN'T dictated by the past.
I'm also not reading this over before I post it so what you're getting what I've got.

The HARLK

"My eeengleesh teecha...he harlk!" 

"He's what? What's a 'harlk'?" 

"Yes the HARLK! You know harlk? He have BIG muscle and green and so very strong! HARLK HARLK HARLK! HARLK SMAAAAAA!"

Ok so this post I've been trying to write for several days, but it wasn't until I saw something that caught my eye this morning on the way to bus duty. Many times it's funny to see what gets lost in translation between English and Chinese but this particular sign was somewhat...disturbing. Long story short (and since I can't remember the exact wording), there were several, large, movie poster size advertisements for a local hospital that would perform a controversial procedure for women. It kind of took me aback how blatantly advertised this was just out on a local street and main road in China. 

One of my favorite examples of getting lost in translations is that almost every time a student is home sick for some reason it's because, " Blank student is not here today. They have diarrhea and will not come to school."  Not that we aren't totally comfortable talking about bodily functions here in China between us teachers but....lost in translations. 

It's funny that I thought about this today as I just recently saw on my newsfeed someone commenting about how frustrating it was when others take quotes from the Book out of context.  It's almost exactly what happens with things here in Chinese.  The translator, whoever it is, just wants to make sure we get the main idea of the advertisement or context when really, details are just as important sometimes.
Those are the thoughts of the day.  Now I should really go fix myself some dinner and maybe clean my room that I've been trying to clean for 4ish days now.

You be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted

Or the other classic as Wesley hangs off the cliff and Inigo is trying to find a way for them to trust each other:

"Isn't there anyway you'll trust me?"
"Nothing comes to mind!"
"I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya, you will reach the top alive."
(pause) "Throw me the rope."

It occurred to me over the past few days how easily I trust.  In people and just things alike.  I trust every morning the sun will rise and I trust the bus driver is a talented enough driver to maneuver the streets of Yantai without getting everyone on board in an accident.
In a short time I have come to trust the people I live with and around.  That tends to happen when you're in a foreign city quite alone sometimes and only certain people know what you're going through.
This past weekend as Iwas being driven back to the airport to return to Yantai it was pouring down rain.  It then dawned on me that not only did I trust my driver enough to get me on time to the airport, I also depended on him to know the way. (And of course to arrive safely)  My driver, Ciu Jia Rong (Jow Rong) has started to really be like a gege (big brother) to me.  We tease each other all the time, he makes fun of my Chinese and I make fun of his English, and basically talk in a joking manner 90% of our time together.  This weekend though I told him of some concerns/decisions I would have to make for the upcoming year and he asked me if I was feeling "Yali" or pressure.  I told him yes and then later thinking, "I've known this guy for six months and I'm trusting him by telling him concerns I have for the future?"
The same goes for a few other friends (Americans mostly) I have come to accept into my China family.  Most are Followers and I can call them up on any various occasion and it not be 'weird' anymore.  It has taken 6 months though to get to this point of course but 6 months is really not a long time.  In China, I would trust my new friends with practically anything and though I myself have been a follower for nearly 10 years now, there are STILL things I don't trust to The Boss.
The message I heard at my Sunday meeting happened to be about trust and trusting in The Boss.  Why is it that someone I've known/heard about my entire life I can't trust as easily as my friends I've known for six months?   oh yeah. That's right because I can't SEE Him or HEAR his voice or TALK to Him.  Then I open my eyes and realize I see Him in my friends, hear through my kids singing, and carry on a conversation whenever I chat/have life conversations with friends.
This post is really long and I don't know if it's as good as the others because this one took me like 3 days to write whereas the others have taken me all of 20 minutes to type up. (Also I don't know how to fix that sentence without ending in a preposition so I'll just leave it as is. <--That sentence is messed up too isn't it?)