Mr. Ma

The past few days have been fairly quiet around here. Meilina and I have both been sick, but are doing much better now. Earlier this week, I helped with the kids as usual: playing, reading, singing, consoling, feeding, and even celebrating one of the children’s birthday on Friday. We lined up about 30 high chairs in the courtyard, as if they were surrounding an invisible banquet table, and sang to the birthday boy. Then we fed all the children bites of cake. By the end of the day I was covered in spit up, baby snot, and frosting. Yum.

             

I woke up feeling queasy on Saturday, so I spent most of the day sleeping. I had this recurring, frantic dream about packing to come to China and travelling on the public transportation system with my cello. It was quite distressing. In between my restless naps, I watched 12 Angry Men for the first time. I thought it was brilliant. It shows how one person can make a difference, especially if he or she is, as The Book of Mormon says, “bold, but not overbearing.” The film also illustrates that there are always two sides to a story, and it’s wise to assume the best of others. In my personal judgments and conversations, I always prefer to err on the side of mercy. Easier said than done, I admit. Anyway, I thought it was a fabulous movie and it made me think. I love movies and books that make me think.  

On Saturday afternoon, Mr. Ma came to Starfish. Mr. Ma is a professional masseur, and he came at my and Kaitlyn’s requests. (Kaitlyn is another volunteer here. She’s from Taiwan and just got back from her mission in England. She’s a gem!) Holding babies all day has been bad for my back, and I’ve always wanted a Chinese massage. But you have to be careful because a lot of Chinese massage parlors are actually just cover-ups for the sex trade. Thus far, I have intentionally avoided them. However, Mr. Ma is an old friend of Amanda’s, and I’ve heard many good things about him, so I felt comfortable with the arrangement. The massage was wonderful, and cheap: only 50 kuai (about $8.20) for 50 minutes.

During and after the  massage, I got to talk to Mr. Ma a bit. When Amanda was here, he used to come to Starfish at least three times a week! He told me about his family, and seemed especially proud of his 15-month-old son. We talked about the touristy sites I’m planning to visit, and I found out that although Mr. Ma was born and raised in Xi’an, he has never seen the Terracotta Warriors. This reminded me of the fact that I lived in Arizona for 10 years and never visited the Grand Canyon. Why do we always feel the need to travel far away in order to celebrate culture, nature and history? And isn’t it ironic that I’m asking this question 7,000 miles from my home?