Saturday, February 25, 2012
Brian and I woke up after a fairly good night's sleep. We were thrilled that the heater in the bedroom in our new apartment worked well. The bed was still too firm for our tastes, but we had a growing and eclectic collection of pillows, duvets, and sheets that helped to soften our sleep. The duvets under our backs, acting as a makeshift mattress topper, were ones we had bought at Wal-Mart a few months ago. Wayne and Chris, the wonderful Australian couple who were this apartment's previous tenants, had left us the duvet and sheets currently covering us for warmth.
Brian and I got up, made ourselves presentable, and walked into the common area of the apartment to look for our new British roommate, Kathy. We didn't find Kathy, but we did find bowls and plates on the counter in the kitchen, left in the process of meal preparation. We remembered then that Kathy had offered to make us an authentic British breakfast that morning, and was likely on a quick errand for some last minute ingredients. With a growing sense of excitement, Brian and I made coffee in our French press and took in the scene around us.
Just like our linen collection, our kitchen appliances were also part of an eclectic and growing compilation. The blue plastic bowl that would be used to mix eggs came from Wal-Mart around the same time Brian bought his Mickey Mouse coffee mug, and I my green floral one. Along with our cutlery and chopsticks, our plates, mugs, and bowls were a motley assortment, a mixed family of designs and owners. Some plates had anime characters on them, and others a paisley design that was popular in the US in the 1970's. The skillet and pot sitting on the stovetop, new and much appreciated acquisitions, were also inherited from Wayne and Chris. We surveyed our kitchen, with its neon orange cabinets, oddly arranged storage space, and super low sink that eventually led to back pains as we hunched over it to wash dishes. We nonetheless loved that cozy kitchen, because it allowed us to share such a special meal together that morning.
As Brian and I were sipping our coffee, Kathy came back from successfully procuring some mushrooms and tomatoes. We exchanged jovial greetings, she poured herself a proper British cup of tea, and we got to work preparing breakfast. I opened the fridge in our living room (yes, the fridge was in the living room), and pulled out some eggs and City Shop sausages. Just a couple weeks ago, I discovered an online grocery option called City Shop. Those sausages were part of that first parcel of precious provisions delivered straight to my door! Without even tasting them, I already savored those sausages. I brought the meat and eggs into the kitchen so we could cook them.
The apartment soon filled with the sounds and smells of sizzling sausages and grilled vegetables. I opened a can of baked beans we'd recently bought at Carrefour, poured them into a paisley bowl, and microwaved them. Brian put some slices of bread into our new toaster, then pulled some butter out of the fridge. We arranged the butter, plates, and cutlery on the table. The food was soon ready, and we sat down to enjoy our feast.
Like our spread of grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, baked beans, toast, scrambled eggs, and sausages (a typical British breakfast), our shared conversation was delicious. We chatted about Brian's new internship at a Chinese law firm in town. A Malaysian-American lawyer at our church had connected him to this firm, and Brian was enjoying the opportunity to gain more exposure to the Chinese legal system.
I picked up Brian's iPhone to show Kathy a picture from our recent trip to Malaysia. From September until December, Brian and I had shared one candy bar phone in China. My parents had graciously brought Brian's old iPhone to us in Australia so we could each have a phone going forward. We'd found software to unlock it so we could use it in China, and our Chinese teacher had just helped us set up a phone plan at our local China Unicom. Brian and I were delighted at the new possibilities that having this second phone (and a smart phone, at that!) opened up for us. Kathy told us a story from a recent Chinese class that made all of us laugh, and I shared my excitement about the possibility of teaching with the Shanghai Community Theological Centrre (SCTC), a new initiative that offered theology classes to expats in Shanghai. I had learned about SCTC after meeting the senior pastor of the church who sponsored it at a conference in Shanghai that December.
The Chinese word for "breakfast," 早饭 (zao fan), literally means "early meal" or "early rice." The first character, 早, is comprised of the character for the sun on top, and the number 10 (which looks like a "t" or a cross) on bottom. As one Chinese teacher explained it to me, 早 looks like the sun rising over the top of a church steeple as a sign of hope for a new day.
Several years later, I still relish that shared meal as one of my most memorable 早饭 in China. Christ was amongst us as each of us brought our loaves and fishes to the table to share in a new and surprising feast. Just as he did 2000 years ago, Jesus took our paltry provisions, gave thanks, broke them, and distributed them in abundance. He took our mushrooms and our sausages, our linens and our bowls, our hopes and expectations, and he shared them with all of us in unexpectedly wonderful distribution of blessing.
Brian and I woke up after a fairly good night's sleep. We were thrilled that the heater in the bedroom in our new apartment worked well. The bed was still too firm for our tastes, but we had a growing and eclectic collection of pillows, duvets, and sheets that helped to soften our sleep. The duvets under our backs, acting as a makeshift mattress topper, were ones we had bought at Wal-Mart a few months ago. Wayne and Chris, the wonderful Australian couple who were this apartment's previous tenants, had left us the duvet and sheets currently covering us for warmth.
Brian and I got up, made ourselves presentable, and walked into the common area of the apartment to look for our new British roommate, Kathy. We didn't find Kathy, but we did find bowls and plates on the counter in the kitchen, left in the process of meal preparation. We remembered then that Kathy had offered to make us an authentic British breakfast that morning, and was likely on a quick errand for some last minute ingredients. With a growing sense of excitement, Brian and I made coffee in our French press and took in the scene around us.
Just like our linen collection, our kitchen appliances were also part of an eclectic and growing compilation. The blue plastic bowl that would be used to mix eggs came from Wal-Mart around the same time Brian bought his Mickey Mouse coffee mug, and I my green floral one. Along with our cutlery and chopsticks, our plates, mugs, and bowls were a motley assortment, a mixed family of designs and owners. Some plates had anime characters on them, and others a paisley design that was popular in the US in the 1970's. The skillet and pot sitting on the stovetop, new and much appreciated acquisitions, were also inherited from Wayne and Chris. We surveyed our kitchen, with its neon orange cabinets, oddly arranged storage space, and super low sink that eventually led to back pains as we hunched over it to wash dishes. We nonetheless loved that cozy kitchen, because it allowed us to share such a special meal together that morning.
As Brian and I were sipping our coffee, Kathy came back from successfully procuring some mushrooms and tomatoes. We exchanged jovial greetings, she poured herself a proper British cup of tea, and we got to work preparing breakfast. I opened the fridge in our living room (yes, the fridge was in the living room), and pulled out some eggs and City Shop sausages. Just a couple weeks ago, I discovered an online grocery option called City Shop. Those sausages were part of that first parcel of precious provisions delivered straight to my door! Without even tasting them, I already savored those sausages. I brought the meat and eggs into the kitchen so we could cook them.
The apartment soon filled with the sounds and smells of sizzling sausages and grilled vegetables. I opened a can of baked beans we'd recently bought at Carrefour, poured them into a paisley bowl, and microwaved them. Brian put some slices of bread into our new toaster, then pulled some butter out of the fridge. We arranged the butter, plates, and cutlery on the table. The food was soon ready, and we sat down to enjoy our feast.
Like our spread of grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, baked beans, toast, scrambled eggs, and sausages (a typical British breakfast), our shared conversation was delicious. We chatted about Brian's new internship at a Chinese law firm in town. A Malaysian-American lawyer at our church had connected him to this firm, and Brian was enjoying the opportunity to gain more exposure to the Chinese legal system.
I picked up Brian's iPhone to show Kathy a picture from our recent trip to Malaysia. From September until December, Brian and I had shared one candy bar phone in China. My parents had graciously brought Brian's old iPhone to us in Australia so we could each have a phone going forward. We'd found software to unlock it so we could use it in China, and our Chinese teacher had just helped us set up a phone plan at our local China Unicom. Brian and I were delighted at the new possibilities that having this second phone (and a smart phone, at that!) opened up for us. Kathy told us a story from a recent Chinese class that made all of us laugh, and I shared my excitement about the possibility of teaching with the Shanghai Community Theological Centrre (SCTC), a new initiative that offered theology classes to expats in Shanghai. I had learned about SCTC after meeting the senior pastor of the church who sponsored it at a conference in Shanghai that December.
The Chinese word for "breakfast," 早饭 (zao fan), literally means "early meal" or "early rice." The first character, 早, is comprised of the character for the sun on top, and the number 10 (which looks like a "t" or a cross) on bottom. As one Chinese teacher explained it to me, 早 looks like the sun rising over the top of a church steeple as a sign of hope for a new day.
Several years later, I still relish that shared meal as one of my most memorable 早饭 in China. Christ was amongst us as each of us brought our loaves and fishes to the table to share in a new and surprising feast. Just as he did 2000 years ago, Jesus took our paltry provisions, gave thanks, broke them, and distributed them in abundance. He took our mushrooms and our sausages, our linens and our bowls, our hopes and expectations, and he shared them with all of us in unexpectedly wonderful distribution of blessing.
This is Kathy and me in our makeshift reading nook. The picture was actually taken a few months later, as evidenced by my bad haircut (i.e. the stylist I found in January had left, and his replacement was a disappointment). The side table is our duvet box, covered in an old black sheet. The Chinese script is a Bible verse, and our fridge is right beside the desk on the left.