I left Beijing with a heavy heart. I had been waiting for a long time to see the city, and left with just a few glimpses. More importantly, I left a person behind who I had feelings for. Those feelings would develope to a much deeper level later on however, and for now, I still harbored an excitement to head west. To western China, away from the unending and prolific modernization of the east coast. I would soon long for that modernization and semblance of civilization, but I was still naive to just exactly I was experienceing. I was to teach in Mianyang a city in north-central Sichuan province. Sichuan shares a border with Tibet to the west, and indeed Tibetan influence is felt throughout the province. To the north is the pristine Alpine setting of Jiu Zhai Gou and unending countryside inhabited by peasants who use ancient machinery, the likes of which I only saw before in museums. The city was a happy place of some five million people. Mianyang's claim to fame is the huge Changhong electrical appliance factory and developement center. While wandering the streets many blue work uniforms sporting the Changhong logo on the back can be seen as people went from work to home and vica versa. It seemed as if everyone was in Mianyang or at least a relative of theirs was an employee at Changhong. The school I worked in was a fresh two years old. With it's shimmering exterior of white tiles and nicely landscaped lawn, it stood in stark contrast to the neighborhood it stood in the middle of. Brick hovels and poor peasants, snot nosed dirty children playing hide and seek amongst piles of vegetables drying after a harvest, Mianyang Wai Guo Yu Xue Xiao (Foreign Language School) seemed an alien like monolith instead of an institution of higher learning. It was a school that operated partly on foreign capitol and the children of affluent parents from three surrounding counties attended classes there. I was happy I wouldn't be working in some underfunded shack with desks, but was a little intimated at the same time.

The school owned four or five apartments that it used to house it's foreign teachers, and they were but a 10 minute walk from school. I was shown my apartment and was impressed. A washing machine, TV, computer with internet access and a nice big bed were included in the abode. I was once again grateful for the plushness of my circumstances. The desperate poverty that grips the overwhelming majority of the population in that part of China was something that seemed many miles away. Praise the mighty dollar the school benefited from given by it's foreign investors. The neighborhood my apartment building was in was pleasant enough, and I found the local small business owners to be quite friendly. The school had been bringing in foreign teachers for two years now and the locals around the school weren't totally shocked at my presence. If I strayed to far away from home or from the school however, long stares and shouts of "Foreigner!" were the norm. It was something I began to resent. I was completely seperated from the Chinese people, partly due to my lack of Chinese language skills and partly due to my simply being a foreigner.

The first two months I was in Mianyang were pretty routine. I taught, came home, spent a little time with some Chinese friends, and taught. Nothing extraordinary happened, and I felt as if I was lacking the revelations I had hoped to recieve during my time in China. It seemed as if I was in a rut. I spent much time introspecting my life during the long intervals I had alone. My life before China, and my life now. I felt as if I was learning a great deal about adulthood, maturity, and mandatory social skills I may have lacked were becoming necessary to accomplish daily tasks. I was grateful, but also stumped as to why I wasn't having a vivid turbulent experience. I would realize later that I wasn't ready to recieve these gifts during the time I was in Mianyang. They were something I would attain later.

SARS reared it's ugly head while I was in Mianyang. When news broke of a raging epedemic that was infecting and killing people at a frightening pace, my collegues and superiors were unconcerned. It was happening in Hong Kong, which some thousand miles away so, why should we worry about it? I however, had access to western news sources, and they were telling a much grimmer story. The virus had made it's way to Beijing and several other provinces. The laughing faces and smug grins of my collegues changed quickly when a report that SARS was in a village not 100 miles away. Chinese medicine was ordered given to everyone at school and the students were forbidden to leave school. I still had two months in Mianyang and the tone had changed drastically. It was a delicate play of paranoia and fear to get groceries. Eating in restaurants was out of the question. People were more or less held prisoner by SARS. For two months this continued, and when it was discovered that SARS was slowing down, peopel began to breathe a little easier. Two of my foreign collegues decided it would be wise to go back to the States, and I can't blame them, I for one however am glad I stayed.

During my time in Mianyang I kept in touch with my now girlfriend. We developed the relationship via electronic communication tools and the telephone. It was clear that I would go to Beijing to see her when I was done with my contract. My relationship with her had cast a whole new light on my experience in China. It was powerful and daunting, sublime and unknown. I left Mianyang in late June after what was a semi-enlightening yet a bit dissapointing period of time had elapsed. It was just my introduction to China however, the rest, the meat was soon to follow. Destined for Beijing, I hopped on a plane...to the waiting arms of feminine love and blossoming horizons...