December 1999, Beijing, China

By M. Morford

In mainland China, at least in 1999, they didn’t celebrate - or even acknowledge - Christmas. The brutal winters fit that line from “The lion, the witch and the wardrobe” where Narnia is described as “always winter and never Christmas.”

I was teaching English for a major university in Beijing, China. It was fall semester, and one of our sections was an overview of American holidays. We had a drab government issue workbook with inane Mad-lib style fill-in holiday related sentences that was somewhere between infantile and oppressive.

As we began the lesson on Christmas, I mentioned a few familiar Christmas traditions - including gift-giving and Christmas caroling. One of the students eagerly raised her hand with the obvious question “Can we do that?”

You need to keep in mind that in the People’s Republic of China, pretty much everything has been illegal at one time or another. In fact, during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s and ’70s, Chairman Mao had compiled a list of “Social Parasites.” These were the categories of people who deserved no respect or legal rights. Teachers were between prostitutes and beggars.

And I had heard a vague rumor that there was to be no Christmas Caroling in hotel lobbies.

As a typical oblivious and optimistic American I said, “Sure, let’s do that.”

What teacher, especially far from home, would not want their students to experience, first hand, an American tradition?

I invited two of my classes to meet at the lobby of the “Foreign experts” apartment building where I was living. This place, at best, was a nearly one star hotel - with the added feature of two or three women at the front desk (who spoke no English) who were our “watchers.”

These were older women who were always baffled, if not annoyed, by their foreign residents. I was probably the only resident from the US in the building. One of the “watchers” found my comings and goings amusing instead of bothersome.

The watcher’s job was to “monitor” us and sign in every visitor.

Another “watcher” was the woman in her early 30s who was the faculty advisor and helper for the “foreign” teachers working for the university. She had told me that she was a member of one of the illegal “underground churches” - I invited her to join us Christmas caroling - she, of course, was far to smart to join us.

On the appointed evening I found about 50 students packed in my lobby. The “watchers” were scared and horrified. There is nothing like a crowd in China when it comes to attracting official - and unwelcome - attention.

The front desk “watcher,” who was usually amused, was now in hysterics. Somehow she knew I had something to do with this.

I passed out about 20 candles and 30 copies of song sheets with the first verses of many familiar Christmas carols - Jingle Bells, Silent Night, O, Little Town of Bethlehem, O, Holy Night and a few more.

There were a few more people than song sheets, so the students clustered in groups of two or three as we sang the Christmas carols around the campus. It was a cold and clear evening and our voices softly echoed across the barren concrete campus.

After singing for about 20 minutes, I was leading the group between two large buildings when a man rushed out and started yelling in Chinese.

I had to grab one of my students to find out what he was saying. He was with campus security and was irate that we had an unauthorized group (the authorities are overly sensitive about gatherings - perhaps for good reason) and that we had lit candles.

We stopped singing, and most of the group blew out their candles.

I suggested heading back to my apartment where we could have hot chocolate (which virtually none of the students had tasted before) and I had collected a large pile of wrapped cassette tapes and books for gifts.

As we turned toward my apartment, most of the candles we re-lit and many of the students were softly singing.

As we entered the lobby of my building, the “watchers” were again horrified - first of all because we were returning (among other problems, all guests were supposed to sign in, but this was impossible with such a large group) and, perhaps even worst of all, there was an important phone call - for me - from the head of campus security. He was furious - and spoke no English. I had to grab a student to take the call and interpret for me.

The head of security wanted to know my name, my department, my supervisor, and my apartment number. I knew that I was in trouble - Chinese style.

I answered these questions as the rest of the students went up to my apartment where hot cocoa and gifts were waiting.

All the students were having a wonderful time when I finally made it to my apartment. They each had a gift and their fill of hot chocolate. After about an hour they all left and a few students helped me clean up my apartment.

I was exhausted, but I knew that, for me at least, the party wasn’t over.

The next afternoon my phone rang. It was my official faculty “watcher.” She was laughing so hard she could barely speak.

She told me that I was in big trouble and needed to explain and document this “cultural experience” of Christmas caroling.

I was required to submit a copy of the song sheet we used and “proof” that our activity was merely a traditional American holiday tradition. I also had to give a reasonable estimate of the number of students involved.

Before she hung up she said, “You only have two weeks left on your contract, and I don’t think you’re going to make it.”

I compiled and submitted all that, and I am sure there is a bulky file somewhere in Beijing with my name on it.

The next evening, in the frigid darkness, I heard a faint echo of singing coming from the far corners of the campus. I had never heard that before.

About two weeks later my faculty “watcher” drove me to the airport. Long before this, she had called me her “little trouble-maker.” I could tell she wanted to make sure I got on my plane, but maybe, just maybe, she was a little sorry to see me go.

M. Morford (Morf) currently lives in Tacoma, Washington. He has taught for about 20 years in every unlikely situation, including state prisons, Native American Tribal colleges, his local rescue mission, as well as online courses at the university level. His favorite things are interesting foods, wacky music, swimming, riding his bike, and afternoon naps.

Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Monday, December 18th, 2006 | Email This Post

This entry was posted on Monday, December 18th, 2006 at 12:09 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.