Journal: Two Festivals in Mid-Autumn

D.M.S.T.: Do you know what festival it is today?
Todd: Oh, today's not very special. Yesterday was a more important festival. Do you know what it was?
D.M.S.T.: Hmm, September 10. Oh, Teachers Day!

Teachers Day is measured on the Gregorian calendar, and Mid-Autumn Festival on the lunar calendar, and this year they fell on consecutive days. The fact that somebody accidently rang me a day early to wish me a happy Mid-Autumn Festival suggests that having two calendars sometimes confuses the chinese too!

Teachers Day is a bit like Mothers or Fathers Day—students give cards, gifts, and bunches of flowers to their teachers. Personally, I think it's a bit oddly placed at the start of the academic year. But one of my classes on that day presented me with a card that had "We all love you!" written in it, even though it was only the second lesson I've had with them. Wang Xin hasn't even started classes this semester yet (since the first year students are still marching around the school in camouflage gear, engaged in compulsory military training), but her desk was filled with gifts and flowers from her students of last semester.

The school also celebrated with a concert, which had the usual variety of students performances (song, dance, and fashion parade) and also included an award presentation. I couldn't go because I had a class at that time, but I got some award, in recognition of my visits to English Corners last semester I think. I was further suprised to find that all the award recipients also received ¥250 cash and a small washing machine! I can imagine these sorts of award certificates being given in my country, but it would be unusual for them to include anything more than a token box of chocolates or a book. And frankly I have no need for the washing machine, with its tiny 2kg capacity, since I already have a larger machine in my apartment. I was thinking about selling it, so I could experience the other side of haggling for a change. "It's a famous brand! Excellent quality!"

The department organised a boat cruise for that evening, with dinner and performances, but I found out about it too late. I already had plans, so I couldn't go. Sometimes you need to know the right questions to ask, and I'll know for the future that one of the right questions is: "What perks will we get on Teachers Day?"

On the subject of perks, when I walked into the office the day before Mid-Autumn Festival (that being Teachers Day of course—are you confused yet?) I couldn't help making the culturally-misplaced exclamation "It's Christmas!" On everybody's desk was a big red bag of treats, including dried jujubes, dried peas, dried banana chips, dried barbecued fish, and other foods (dried). That was a gift from the department. The other teachers also had a box of mooncakes, which was a gift from the college administration.

We foreign teachers got our mooncakes in the end too, at a meeting with the college president the following afternoon. The main theme of Mid-Autumn Festival is family togetherness, so the premise of the meeting was for the president to show his care for us lonely foreign sheep wandering far from our home pastures. I think it was also an excuse for him to meet us, since he only took over the presidency this semester. I recall that his predecessor was older and fatter. After the president left the meeting, the head of the foreign languages department lit up a cigarette and asked us to make ourselves at home, but obviously there wasn't much chance of a festive atmosphere in a conference room where some people spoke only english, some spoke only japanese, and some spoke only chinese. I was glad when we were finally allowed to leave.

I was expecting Yu Yongguo, my bus-driving friend, to call me in the evening. There was a misunderstanding, and when he called me to ask if I wanted to have dinner I had already eaten. So I joined him for his last run between Kaifaqu and Dalian. These minibuses are usually operated by at least two, often three people: a driver, a ticket seller, and a person to operate the door and yell out to people three blocks away to hurry up if they want to catch the bus (since these buses are owner-operated, every extra passenger means extra profit). But Yu Yongguo had somehow managed to do the last few runs all by himself that day, because his co-worker had gone off to celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival with their family.

So that night, I leant a hand. Collecting the money proved beyond my ability, not only because I didn't know the cost for any place except the terminus, but also because my hands just weren't very nimble at holding money, counting change, etc. But I had fun opening and closing the door, and I even took to shouting "Dalian ah!" at potential passengers. In fact, I even shouted it after we turned around and headed in the opposite direction, which confused people no end!

Back in Kaifaqu, Yu Yongguo and I sat outside a small restaurant (these are literally called "small fry" in chinese) while somebody barbecued meat and squid next to our table, which we washed down with cold beer. Chinese families often sit outside on Mid-Autumn Festival to gaze at the full moon while eating mooncake, but in this case we had no mooncake and the moon was behind a building. A couple of Yu Yongguo's bus-driving friends, who were already quite pickled, sat down to drink with us. One was the Drunk Man Seeking Teacher who features in the dialogue at the start of this article—he kept trying to persuade me to tutor his 11-year-old son in english. It wasn't the traditional way to spend Mid-Autumn Festival, but it was rather entertaining.

I had my mooncake (and ate it too) back at my apartment, and I sent that washing machine home with Yu Yongguo since his is old and in need of repair.

D.M.S.T.:	Do you know what festival it is today?
Todd:	Oh, today's not very special. Yesterday was a more important festival. Do you know what it was?
D.M.S.T.:	Hmm, September 10. Oh, Teachers Day!