What Are You Doing Tomorrow Morning?

OR HOW 6 AM IS QUICKLY BECOMING MY FAVORITE HOUR OF THE DAY

At 6:20 AM, my alarm goes off. For the first time. I roll out of bed, quickly use the bathroom, quickly put on some clothes, quickly stuff my pockets with keys and a few kwai (Chinese dollars), and quickly get out the door. By the time my alarm goes off the second time, five minutes after the first, I know it's time to pull the door behind me, and get my tired body onto the small track. It is time for Tai Ji practice.

I've kept up this routine 5 days a week, for the last month and a half. And truly, it gets me through the day. Doing Tai Ji has been the only thing that makes me feel connected to the community here in Taigu, and for better or worse, one of the only activity where people genuinely want me around, want to befriend me, and don't try to abuse my magical English teaching skills. Not getting harassed for impromptu English 101 conversations or English lesson requests (on principle, I always say no, but do invite them to sit in on my real English classes) can be a rare occurrence when I'm out and about. And squatting, with my arms rounded and graceful in a group of old Chinese people, surrounded by a handful of my favorite English students (us 8 are the only people under 50), I finally am left alone. And it feels great.

I stumbled upon Tai Ji completely by accident. I was trying to kill some time while walking to the small track with my students in order to play an in-class outdoor game. A few of my female students, who mostly keep to themselves in a small clique, mentioned that they were learning Tai Ji every morning. At 6:40. On a whim, I told them that, come next Monday, I would stop by and try it out.

I love sleep. So in true Ray fashion, I set my alarm as close to 6:40 as possible, with the idea that I would just throw myself together and leave in a flash. I show up "on time", and low and behold, I am completely late. And the entire practice is 10 minutes long, after which, 2 more advanced forms of Tai Ji (one includes swords!) I have not yet learned are practiced. (I'm still not sure what the real start time is. I now aim for 6:30. I believe the true start time is whenever the teacher feels like starting, which, somehow, irregardless of what time I arrive, is always slightly earlier than I expected.) "This is what I got up for?" I grumble to myself. I had just faked my way through what was left of the Tai Ji practice and was not yet won over to the sport. My students, all smiley and excited, come up to me, waving. "Ok. Now it's time to learn Tai Ji (or as one of my student says 'Touch')!" For the next 2 weeks we worked our way through the 24-position routine. You see, Tai Ji is a routine. The same routine. Every time. To music. The same music. Every time. Conceptually,Tai Ji doesn't really appeal to the senses. But in practice, it is absolutely lovely. You get to flow, slowly, through a beautiful and ridiculously silly looking, slow-motion martial art pattern, complete with punches, blocks, and kicks, in synchronized columns and rows with 100 old Chinese strangers. Who are not telling you how white and wonderful your skin is. Or complimenting your Chinese after you have grunted something simple and short like "thank you" in their direction. They're busy. You're busy. And I love it.

And every day afterwards, me and my student-friends go out for breakfast. We have our favorite stall and we are utterly faithful. We each order a soup-thing (porridge, wonton soup, or egg soup) and a bread-thing (slightly sweet bread, slightly salty bread, or an egg-y/chive-y/salty crepe/tortilla thing), and sit at folding tables on little stools chatting and watching the market stalls being set up for the day.

Now that I've gone so many times, the other people at the track don't stare anymore either -- the runners, the badminton players, the parents with their wild children, the students memorizing passages for class under their breath, and the amateur circus performer, an older gentleman who plays with devil sticks or a noisy diablo as he does laps around the track. We're a odd little community: a community I mostly can't communicate with without a translator, a community who has probably never lived far from their home province, let alone another country. We're different. But we have Tai Ji.

And, fingers crossed, that will be enough.


A Note on the Pictures: I normally wear jeans or loose slacks and a T-shirt to Tai Ji practice. But when I told my student-friends that I needed Tai Ji pictures for this blog, they brought me a special outfit. As if I needed another way to stick out. I hope you enjoy the outfit that I've only worn once, and plan on never wearing again.