Another birthday. I've had three special birthdays in a row, the last two involved with another culture. I remember very well how I spent my 21st birthday in
excitement and sweat when I met two "VIPs" from IIE and Ford Foundation respectively. This birthday was even more special, though right now I was sitting before my screen and nothing significant was happening (until a plant in ruby-red bloom came in with a card that reads "Happy Birthday From Hongen Friends!" when I just started the next paragraph. What a tear-triggering surprise! I love the plant and the bunnies and you all, my dear friends!)
Tim Dean was to visit my city just before my birthday!
Tim came to my virtual life when I decided it was the time to keep silent most of my real life to my net pals and be less sentimental. To me he was indeed more
like a vapory figure than a real physical man. What were discussed in our correspondence, I can't remember, but I hold special gratitude for him, who has helped
and cared about me over the past two years in a way I never expected nor wish to tell here in public. :)
Very unfortunately though, I got Bell's palsy a few months ago and when I learned he was really coming, I was just like an ant trapped into a hotpot, as my lips
still refused to work properly. I began my exercise plan with the most sincere
prayers I could carry out as a non-believer. In a week, I could finish reading
out loud an English passage in ten minutes that I used to stumble over in half
an hour. By the time Tim got off the plane, I had worked my mouth nearly to its
"normal state." I don't know which worked better, practice or praying?
I knew my heart was thumping in my chest as I waited outside the security line.
Any moment now. Any moment. Any....
I felt cold in my hands and weak in my knees. I always fear to meet strangers.
The vapor had gone in an instant when a tall, strong man with a cowboy hat came
along and saw me in the crowd. He stopped and shot at me (by his camera, don't
worry), and I beamed at him. Beside him stood a pale young man with a slim build and long hair. "Isn't that a girl?" Asked my mom. "But isn't he taking his
son?"
The one-minute impression Tim left me was exactly the same as what I had hoped.
He speaks in a small voice that will never frighten a bug. He talks in a way that relaxes anyone who is apparently too nervous to talk. He keeps his talkative
nature to such an extent that I am neither annoyed nor stuck in awkward silence
. And to my uttermost relief, unlike the stern-looking Tim on his photos, he likes to joke around and chuckle, very much like the MSN Tim I have known and "loved" for three years.
James is a very different man, whom my mom fondly calls "Little James." He is a
very talented programmer. No more will be from me about Tim's son, or he will
get angry. But it's quite safe to say that I've taken a liking to James because
I behave in a way quite like him. :-P
I had only slept four hours the first night, with excitement flowing over my stomach every time I was struck by the idea that a Texas guy was now sleeping in a
hotel only 12km away from my home.
These six days presented me with a very good opportunity to know Tim not only as
a middle-aged man from the US, but as a father with three children.
My parents and I will not forget this easily: Tim makes Sleeping Dumplings in our kitchen. The Chinese father teaches the American father to make the first dumpling the latter has ever made in his life. The Chinese daughter sits there interpreting the instructions, and the American son holds a camera getting ready to
take pictures. But Tim doesn't stop there. He continues to make more with my
father till there is no dough left. My father later commented, "He really wanted to help us out, not just did it for fun. A little like me, that guy is, patient and perseverant. A quick-learner, as well!"
Ah, all this birthday frenzy and some other urgent work to be done have made my
mind slow as a snail. Can't write more. I'll stop here and wait for Tim's report about his experience in Urumqi.
Jenny
