Living Seoulfully: Unexpected Delight

"I think you never know where life is taking you. The unexpected and the expected, it's all for the good," were some of the first sage words HyoEun, a 19-year-old international student, offered our shared space today. The last time I saw this former student of mine, we were at her high school graduation. Six months ago, we were both in Shenzhen, China. It was dripping outside, not with rain, but with beads of sweat, rolling off of every resident's back and arms and nose. I had posed with HyoEun, dressed in her black graduation gown, her dark chestnut hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders, in the air-conditioned, broad open space of G&G Creative Community. HyoEun's graduating class had been one of those special bunches where the energy between the students is such that the spaces they enter buzz with laughter and camaraderie, singing and dancing -- I am not trying to paint perfect picture here; I am writing the reality of this funny and fun-loving crew.

As a teacher -- like a parent, I imagine -- I do not want to say that I have favorites. Teachers and parents, we seek to support and connect with all of our children. We reflect on how to meet the needs of the diverse and unique souls before us, and we love each of them for the special things they bring into our lives and into our classrooms.

Some connections just hit differently, though. I suppose I saw some of myself in HyoEun from the beginning, from the first day that we began to share space in the classroom, lit by the sun coming in through the window that looked out onto the South China Sea. HyoEun's junior year was her first year at Shekou International School. She was quite quiet and reserved, though I could see the wheels of her thoughts as she listened to her classmates' opinions and insights on topics such as racism and feminism and various global issues.

Over time, HyoEun bloomed, having been watered by the rains of praise in the form of feedback, having offered herself the sunlight of self-compassion, she unfolded like a peony in the springtime. Her contributions to class were thoughtful and reflective, measured and deep.

I was lost in thought for a moment, thinking back to the two years I taught HyoEun when she continued speaking again. "You know, the world is much more beautiful than I had expected," she reflected as our conversation continued over a vegan breakfast at a tiny, sweet restaurant near her university campus. "We spent so much time talking about global issues in high school that I hadn't expected so much beauty too. I mean, we need to know about issues. When I was in San Francisco, I spent part of the weekend serving food at a homeless shelter. And it might seem that people just want food, but they want human connection. That is what we are all craving. And so we connected. We had conversations. I also had picnics with my friends on weekends" she said, painting a picture for me of her diverse group of friends.

Here our conversation turned to a discussion of privilege -- we have both been afforded great privilege in this life, two of them being to travel widely and to learn by attending wonderful educational institutions. I noted the way that HyoEun has been able to embrace life's pleasures, and to use her privilege to bring more beauty to the communities surrounding her. This too is the way that I was raised, and recently I have felt a renewed appreciation for the lessons surrounding power and privilege that my parents taught me through their own gracious modeling.

HyoEun attends Minerva University, a program that has her and her 200 cohort-mates moving to a new country each semester. Her cohort is comprised of students from all over the world, from Nigeria and Bulgaria, from the Philippines to South Korea, which is HyoEun's passport country. As Minerva offers scholarships on a sliding scale, the students in HyoEun's program are culturally and economically diverse. Regardless of country context, Minerva does not provide a cafeteria for the students. "This is a good thing," HyoEun explains, "because this way we get to be a little more independent and also share our favorite dishes from back home."

As HyoEun shared with me more about her university experience so far, I was delighted to hear that her time at SIS had prepared her to move into seminar discussions with confidence and openness to new ideas and insights. "The topics we discussed in your class, they have come up many times in my university classes. We have even talked about We Should All Be Feminists" HyoEun says with a smile. This, of course, delights me to no end, that I must be doing something right in the classroom if the conversations we have and the texts we read help to shape young women such as HyoEun, and to help my students to feel ready to engage in such discourse.

Interested in where HyoEun might take her degree in the future, I inquired if she still wanted to be a dentist, as she had previously mentioned. "Hmmm, I am still asking that myself," she replied with a smile. "I have always been a science person, but now it's the social sciences that are really engaging me, and so I am not sure what exactly I will do following university. It is possible to apply to dental school, but I could also enter into a social science field right after I finish university. And you know what," HyoEun continued as her smile broadened a bit, "it doesn't even stress me out to not know ... to not have the answers."

I nodded and smiled back at her. "That's pretty cool," I said. "I think a lot of university students, a lot of humans, feel pressured to know, but if we can maintain our openness, we land where we are supposed to land."

As we continued to eat our meal slowly, sliding tofu and broccoli and warm rice onto our forks, we talked about the circumstances that had brought us to share these moments outside of the classroom, and outside of China, catching up with each other. HyoEun had not planned on attending Minerva, and I had not planned on moving to Seoul, but a certain openness that we both have allowed life to lead us here.

In Korea, HyoEun has reconnected with parts of her family and is, ironically, learning about Seoul through adventures led by her Armenian friend. In Korea, I have connected with a wonderful man, and I am learning about the city, not so ironically, through adventures and excursions led by him, and by new friends.

You really don't know where life is taking you, I continue to think this evening, now sipping an aromatic grassy green tea that my beau has recently gifted me. I do time and again find, though, that it takes you to the places where you need to be, in just the right time. Today, the place I needed to be was catching up with HyoEun, feeling the life force that runs through her. It was lovely to hear that the work we did together in the classroom fed her intellect and spirit well. Today, HyoEun's wisdom and spirit fed me.

On-site School Resumes: A Week in Review

I came to this space tonight to tell you all the things about what it has been like to re-start school in the time of Covid-19, but I have been temporarily distracted by my small-batch, (artisanal ) ketchup. I have been cooking my way through Allison Day's Whole Bowls this year, and this week I decided to try a recipe I was rather skeptical of -- there wasn't even a photo on the page for Brunch Bowls with Chickpea Turnip Hash, Asparagus, Eggs, and Homemade Ketchup.

Turns out, cookbook pages without photos do note denote crappy recipes. Sometimes it's nice to live alone because there is no one to see me licking the last of the ketchup from my bowl tonight. I feel like Grandma and her porkchop bone -- let me set aside all manner of decorum and enjoy the shit out of this.

Before there was a small batch of homemade ketchup this week, there were four days of in-person instruction at Shekou International School for our grades 9, 10, and 11. I noted in my last post that I did not process the news of reopening with open arms -- at first. I was deeply skeptical about bringing students back into classrooms in the face of so many protocols that impede our ability to engage in what we know to be the best pedagogy. The week ended up turning out notably better than I had anticipated, but our new (ab)normal is interesting ...

We used to be greeted by our administrators when we entered the school; now we are greeted by the police force. This felt unsettling on the first day, but the officers were there to protect students from any too-curious passerby who wanted to take photos, or in the case that anyone would want to bar us from a smooth start. All went well as we got settled into the amphitheater on Monday.

We used to huddle close together in this space, and now we sit on our designated seat 1.5 meters apart. This was possible as each grade arrived separately for a 2-hour re-orientation Monday. A number of our students are still out of the country or have decided to continue distance learning from their homes in Shenzhen.

It used to be that when our students entered our classroom we offered them wide smiles. Now we smile with our eyes.

I used to have two classes of Grade 10 English at two different times of the day. Now I have two Grade 10 English classes at the same time. I stand in front of one class, beam myself through video into the classroom next door, and bring students outside of school into the classroom through a Microsoft Teams video. I expected this to be something of a mess; in reality, it worked quite smoothly.

I did miss the side-by-side writing conferences that I used to have. While the students worked on their writing in the classroom and in their homes, I had to maintain our physical distancing protocol, so now I offer feedback in OneNote.

Students used to play foosball and air hockey at lunch; now they talk across long tables, using chopsticks to exchange their pieces of sushi.

We have a wonderful music program led by Mr. Bob Krebs and Ms. Vanessa Coetzee. Students used to play their instruments in music class. Now they work on music theory as most are not allowed to practice their instruments because #masksallday.

At SIS, students used to play musical chairs throughout the day, generally sitting where they want in each class. Now students carry the same chair around to each class all day. This is not a joke. These chairs are disinfected each night by our diligent maintenance staff.

In a video storytelling class that I co-teach with Ms. Sophie Delaporte and Mr. Edward Bruce, we used to go Into the 'kou to gather footage from our community in order to elevate voices often unheard. Now students go into their computers, watching videos created by individuals rather than small groups. We are awfully proud of the stories these students have been telling this semester as they interviewed their own family members to tell the stories of A Day in the Life of Corona from around the world. You can watch some of these expertly crafted videos at our site Into the 'kou to hear more about the experiences of different families.

At the end of the day, when the students have all gone home, our maintenance crew used to tidy up the room. Now they place UV lamps in each room and sanitize each tabletop.

Seniors used to have all the pomp and circumstance in celebration of their hard-earned graduation. Now they are happy to have a photo together. We do not yet know if SIS will be able to hold any kind of ceremony, but I am beaming with pride as I look at these cool kids in this photo. Go to the limits of your longing, seniors. Your longing.

I used to take mindful moments to gaze out of the classroom window at the boats and the palm trees and the South China Sea. And now, I still do.

Life in the Time of Corona continues to be a wild ride for the world. Reflecting on the week from my quiet apartment now, what I feel in my body is contentment that I am here, in Shenzhen, with the opportunity to continue, and then close the year with my students, in person.  The feeler of all feels, gratitude for my entire SISrocks community, here and abroad, is filling my chest and my eyes.

We can do hard things. We got this.

School re-opens in the time of Covid-19

I am sitting at my kitchen table tonight, sipping San Pelegrino out of my blush pink cup that says, "Sisterhood is Powerful" on one side, and my nickname "SheWolf," on the other. I am also licking a spoon that I keep dipping into a huge wooden bowl of cupcake batter. The batter, unfortunately, tastes more like baking soda than it does rich chocolate. But I keep scooping into my mouth anyway.

I'm using poor tasting batter and bubbly water to try to assuage my melancholic feelings. I could look worse, I know, but I could also be in Vietnam with five of my best friends, as we had planned months ago. My friends at SIS and I were supposed to fly into Ho Chi Minh city tonight to meet up with Ceci as she now teaches at South Saigon International School. The tickets were purchased, the Airbnb was booked, the out-on-the-town outfits were imagined. And then there stayed Covid-19. The airline canceled the tickets, the owner of the Airbnb messaged regretfully, and we put our Rothy's and skinny jeans back in our closets. And then messaged each other throughout the entire day, working to reach across many miles to still hold one another in a warm space.

Just ... my heart ... as I look at our joy at being together.

Ceci's words on a photo of us on her Instagram today says what I want to say just the way I want to say it: "Tonight in some alternative timeline in the universe, these beauties are soon landing at HCMC airport and starting what will be an unforgettable weekend together. I’m jealous of those versions of us, the ones who will get to physically reconnect, laugh, cry, hold each other so tightly that it might even be felt on our side of the universe. I might not really know whether time bends this way or how, but I know for certain that in this timeline, we will be together again someday and it will be all the sweeter. I love you ladies."

Currently, three of us in this photo are in the Americas, two of us are in Shenzhen, and one of us is in Vietnam. When the borders re-open, three of us will be in Shenzhen, one of us will be in Portugal, one of us will be in South Korea, and one of us will be in Vietnam, as we all embark on another year of international teaching, but with more physical distance between us. We will plan another trip to see one another, but it's so hard not to be able to set a date.

I think, along with the rest of the world, my ability to flow with the uncertain and ambiguous continues to hit turbulent times. Last week, I felt consumed by anger. My anxiety was flowing. The centered spaces I know I am capable of creating were rocking. I walked into my therapy session and told Tracy I just wanted to throw things. She kindly asked if I chose to do so during our time together, that perhaps it could just be a pillow for now.

Part of what had me feeling so unsteady was the notification that we will be resuming (in-person) school on Monday, April 27th.

I want very much to see my students. Zoom classes with them have often been the light in my day, and bringing their brightness back into the classroom is something that we have all been waiting for -- but in our context of international teaching in Shenzhen, school will resemble little of what it did before.

As Covid-19 hit Guangdong province during Chinese New Year, many of us were traveling (though not me) during this holiday. When my colleagues learned that we would proceed after break with distance learning, and they began to process their fears about the virus, understandably many chose to stay outside the country. Many also chose to leave to return back to their passport countries, seeking solace in the places most familiar. Like all of us international wanderlusters, Covid traveled too. All around the world. And China closed its borders to foreigners, so my fellow teachers and friends are unable to return.

At present, we have 40% of our SIS staff in Shenzhen, while about 70% of our student population is present. Staffing is one of many of the challenging factors we are facing.

The SIS community is like a family. When my students came in today to get their testing for Covid-19 so they can be cleared to come to school Monday, some of them automatically came to hug me, and I leaned towards them to embrace them too. This breaks the rules, though, of physical distancing. It is not natural to keep such distance between ourselves and others, especially when those others are our good friends and colleagues and dear students.

My class is discussion based; I generally gather my students in a tight-knit circle on beanbags to discuss the texts that we have read. With the new Covid protocols, our classrooms feel a bit more sterile, which I guess is the point ... but it feels so strange.

Everyone will be required to wear the mandatory masks inside school walls. Except, perhaps, when you're taking a sip of your coffee.

There are signs everywhere around school that we are still living in the time of Covid-19. While Shenzhen has the virus under control, the wispy Covid ghost permeates the air.

This new wastebasket is for throwing away masks halfway through the day as a second mask must be donned after lunch. At lunch, students will not be able to sit facing one another, or near one another.

When staff and students walk into school each day, we will all get a fever check. If anyone has a fever, a room has been designated for isolation. The CDC will then come in to further inspect the individual and tell us what to do next.

It is due to all of these restrictions that I have sat with such a heaviness in the past week.

And then I had several conversations that helped me to slowly shift my perspective. In telling a friend how different the energy was in the building, he said, "Yeah, but you'll bring your awesome energy and the kids will feel that too." His words hit a chord in me; they caused me pause for reflection. The students will feed off of our energy; I have seen this play out countless ways in my classroom, for darker or lighter.

Isom's words also made me think of what I had heard in a recent episode of Brené Brown's podcast Unlocking Us. The episode, entitled "Permission to Feel," welcomed Yale professor Dr. Marc Brackett into a conversation on emotional literacy. In the episode, the two talked about the way we mirror one another's emotions. And so it went that I thought more and more about what this means for the energy and emotions that I bring into my classroom on Monday.

In meeting my students wherever they are at, I plan to be honest. To feel all the feels with them. I would also like to engage them in discussions that, rather than begin with "How are you doing right now," start with "What's something that you miss that surprises you? What's something you don't miss that you thought you would?" as well as "What's giving you hope right now?" and "What do you hope we learn to take away from this experience?" I want us to honor our shadowy emotions, while also giving voice to the strength that continues to exist in our SIS community.

In the midst of this scene, as students were lined up for their Covid-19 throat swab, my student Yijoo, a junior in my Language and Literature class, expressed how excited she was to be returning to school on Monday. While it was clear that school wasn't just how we left it in January, Yijoo was quite unfazed by the new protocols. The smile that I could detect beneath her mask because I saw it in her eyes ... it gave me life today.

It will feel different and awkward and frustrating to have to abide by all of these restrictions for the remainder of the year. And SIS will continue to be a space full of light and energy and caring individuals that walk through the entryway with smiles on our faces, that you'll see by the crinkles at our eyes.

So, I am, I'm really ready for you, kiddos. Let's get our learn on, together again.

Reporting from China: Another Call for Higher Love

I've just returned from a date with the Denson's. Dinner "out on the (ghost) town" felt like a real event given the way we've been laying so low this week. We first went to a Hong Kong-style eatery named Gaga Garden, only to walk in and find that it was closing for the night. It felt like this ...

I don't know how to smize very well, but I think it's clear that I can pout with my eyes. This look did nothing to convince Gaga to stay open an extra hour. Ho Hum.

We ventured a bit further into Seaworld and this led us to Baia, a restaurant owned by a couple of European men that serves "upper-scale" food. I had the best meal that I have had in three weeks, the amount of time that I been Candida cleansing. Alli, Charles and I had the entire restaurant to ourselves -- we did choose to eat outside in the open fresh air.

I'm ever so grateful to be a third wheel with this duo. These two are my kind of happy hour.

The fine dining dinner did feel well-deserved after finishing our first week of online teaching and learning -- as an online educator now, I am definitely learning about how to reach all of my students through various modes. Altogether, though, it seems the instruction has generally been effective this week, and I do feel connected to my students, even from a distance.

While I have worked to separate church and state, for the most part, going to school and to Buttery to type out lesson plans and send audio feedback to my kids, yesterday I decided to work from home in the afternoon. .

Mom has always said, watch your children when they are sleeping (because when they are being pills while awake you'll be able to remember that they have sweet moments).

While my new routine has begun to feel quite comfortable, my heart feels weighted with how some of the world continues to respond to the new virus that came out of a city in China that was hardly on most people's maps until last week.

My friend and her family decided to fly home while we are not physically in school. The neighbors caught wind of my friend's family's arrival and interrogated her mother about where my friend and her family had been exactly. The neighbor was worried that her child, with a more compromised immune system, might catch the virus from the family just home from China. While I think we can empathize with a mother's fears for her child, her call to my friend's mother wreaked of ignorance.

My sense of the world's perception of the virus is that it has gotten the stigma it seems to have because it came out of a wet market in a country that doesn't have "great relations" with the US. A wet market is particularly foreign in a way that incites disgust, perhaps, and misunderstanding along cultural lines.

John Pomfret, for The Washington Post, writes, "At a middle school a few blocks from my house, a rumor circulated among the children that all Asian kids have the coronavirus and should be quarantined. Misinformation has also reached higher education: In college campuses across the United States, some non-Asian students have acknowledged avoiding Asian classmates for no other reason than, well, the coronavirus came from Asia."

This is rough stuff: xenophobia, ignorance, and baseless assumptions. To look at someone as a walking virus is to deny a person the very humanity that should lead us to care more deeply for one another.

I know, though, that it's not the whole story. I know there are communities of us working to share truth and love and open our arms to one another.

And here is when I put in another plug for you to join the #internationalhigherlovedanceteam. I have a handful of videos so far from friends and family, and it would be amazing to muster up more, of everyone dancing to Higher Love. Do whatever your soul moves you to do as Whitney belts out:

Think about it, there must be a higher love

Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above

Without it, life is wasted time

Look inside your heart, and I'll look inside mine

Things look so bad everywhere

In this whole world, what is fair?

We walk the line and try to see

Falling behind in what could be, oh

Bring me a higher love

Bring me a higher love, oh

Bring me a higher love

Where's that higher love I keep thinking of?

Reporting from China: Does Anyone Want to Join My Dance Team?

After another coconut milk matcha latte, drank at leisure with the cats, my day began something like this (video failed to upload because #thisinternetblows):

Just please play this while you look over these photos.

I am doing my darndest to get together a group to do some video smash-ups for a dance video.
If you want in ... I mean, you want in ...

... and then the workout actually began.

After this dance sesh and a 25-minute HIIT workout, there was indeed a lot of workworkworkworkwork.

While I enjoy the quiet space to #work, coming into to SIS has been strange.

Anyone who enters is usually greeted by Peggy and Leah, arguably the two women who keep the cylinders turning here. When I walked in this morning, there was just a guard who looked up from the video playing on his phone to buzz me in.

I peaced out of school just before lunch to walk to Buttery, the best café in Shekou, for some food and more company.

Much of Shekou does look like this: deserted. Emily's usually has a steady crowd of café lovers sitting down for coffee and a nice breakfast bowl.

This is a main intersection on my way to and from school each day. I hardly even have to watch for passing cars at this point.

I was hoping to upload a video of how quiet the street is on my way to the café. Instead, here is a still shot of me looking like I am ready to shoot some adverts for pita masks.

It was lovely to settle into the quiet space of Buttery -- an SIS family, who also frequents the cafe, was there, and we chatted a bit about enjoying the nearby "mountain" and all of the things that Lulu freshes cooks, sautés and bakes. "Life is just better with Lulu," said the father.

Since I have been sitting down at Buttery nearly every day for two weeks, I have gotten a chance to talk more with Lulu about opening the café. It is clear this place is a staple of the community. More on Lulu and Buttery to come.

So I am eating well and working hard here in Shekou, Shenzhen in the People's Republic of China.

I consumed those veggies, and the large chicken leg that accompanied them, a number of hours ago now, so I am about to dig into the dish I cooked up in the instant pot tonight.

Again, do you want to join my dance team?

Reporting from Shenzhen, China: Work and Brain Breaks

I am back at school today and, as it's been several hours of very quiet work, I was just inspired to blast the Higher Love remix over my classroom speakers. It got a little shimmy of reaction ...

In the company of the fun nerds.

Day two of Microsoft TEAMS and OneNote e-learning had me tracking down a good number of students with well, hello, I didn't see you on the chat yesterday, can I offer you further assistance in getting started? I am going to have to come up with a strategy for my own work time. My brain almost short-circuited this afternoon as I had emails and notifications coming in at one time from students in four different classes. Learning curves.

Learning curves do call for brain breaks, and a little sweat session is a great way to refresh the synapses ... or something like that (I don't speak Science fluently). The gyms are closed here in Shekou, but on the 4th floor of our school is a mini-gym equipped with everything we needed, from TRXs to weights to two rowing machines, for a Dirty 30 workout.

This is certainly not all fun and games ... but today was a little bit fun and games ... and some good laughs.

After 30 minutes of 45 seconds of HIIT and weights and 15 seconds to rest intervals, we were ready ... to go to lunch. Back at HH Gourmet where the best bagels are sold, I had a large "yoga" omelet. Most restaurants are not serving salads or foods that are uncooked. It's smart, I think.

I have continued to be able to get fresh produce to cook at home.

To hear the story behind this little store, check out a video that I made with a colleague and student: Into the 'kou: Lora's produce.

In Shekou, we are privileged to have Lora, a friendly and community-minded woman who opened a small storefront to bring us organic fruits and vegetables.

I bought free-range, organic eggs from Lora today. She is one of my favorite people. Ever.

Signing off tonight to head into the kitchen to cook up my fresh veg and a halibut steak -- drizzling the BaciBowl with Allison Day's pumpkin seed sauce.

Love and light from Shenzhen,

Jamie

Reporting from Shenzhen, China: Back to School ... Online

It is nearly 4 o'clock in Shenzhen. I am just wrapping up my school day -- a very quiet, but productive day of delivering curriculum and feedback to my students on online platforms.

Sitting on my classroom beanbags, finding a friend peaking in behind me. #SISrocks

It'll be interesting what this more solitudinal life does produce ... today I wondered if I was really meant for Mars.

Because with Google and China #itscomplicated, Shekou International School uses Microsoft Office as our collaborative learning space. I have spent a good part of my day monitoring and dropping into book club discussions happening in Microsoft TEAMS.

I would prefer to be conversing with my students in person, but what was cool about today is that I could drop into multiple book clubs in the same hour; generally, during class time I can only sit with one book club each day.

I did start the day with some yoga, and then made it to a cafe near school in time to catch the halftime show.

HH Gourmet was opened by an ex-pat from New York -- he supplies Shekou's bagels.

This is the only part of the Superbowl that I understand. All hail Shakira and J. Lo!

I was getting sweet updates from Minnesota while I watched the halftime show, and I was excited to see that my two youngest nieces are working on being in the show in a few short years. #justaquickheadbang

After working for a bit at school, a few of my friends and I ventured out for lunch. There were two other individuals eating at a restaurant, Les 5, on what we call The Strip, the long line of massage places, restaurants, bars and pet stores that runs for several blocks adjacent to SIS.

Two Midwesterners and a Pacific North Westerner featured here.

Today's new norms: temperature checks when you walk into a restaurant and complimentary (read: mandatory) hand sanitizer at the same time. Later, when I walked into my apartment building, I stepped into the elevator to find that a box of tissues had been taped to the elevator wall. Convenient, I thought.

After school, I was blessed with almond cookies and almond bread baked by Alli, time to get down with my #wholebowls routine in my kitchen, and space to meditate.

Stepping away from devices now so that I can turn back to Ronan Farrow's Catch and Kill.

Good night, or good morning, certainly have a good day from me and the kitty who loves to live on my air purifier.

I don't ever have to worry about her getting kitty asthma; she's breathing the best air in the house.

Reporting from Shenzhen, China, in the midst of #coronavirus fears, rumors, and new norms

Hello, dear friends and family,

I am snuggled up in my apartment tonight, writing as my second batch of chicken bone broth cooks in my instant pot, and the cats lounge at my feet.

I am pretty tuckered out tonight, largely because I ran a kick-ass 10k along the boardwalk with my friend Ann. This weekend I was supposed to be in Hong Kong for the 9Dragons race -- Alli was going to run the 50k, and I was slated to run the 10k. Understandably, the race was canceled, but my runner's lungs were still craving a little race pace. As Ann and I ran, masks (mostly) on, the scene was quiet and quite lovely. Along the boardwalk, instrumental music plays out of speakers in the bushes. Guards were posted regularly along the boardwalk to ensure runners, walkers and those strolling along were indeed following the mandate that everyone wears masks outside.

Ann is a fellow midwesterner. We have become fast friends because of this, and also because of our love of fitness and food.

The day was pretty cloudy, but we have had a great deal of sun this week, so I've been soaking up that Vitamin D.

Palm trees and distant ships in the South China Sea. The boardwalk is a sweet space to enjoy.

Some of the new protocols set in place this week have been strange to get used to. Just today my building stopped allowing visitors in, so my friend Katie, who came by for a bit, was not allowed to enter. This is disappointing, but we still were able to head out on our favorite hike nearby and enjoy coffee at our favorite cafe.

I have been to Buttery every day for the past ... many days. We love the oolong tea and ...

the pork and chicken and trumpet mushrooms. I didn't order to share, I ordered to have leftovers.

Altogether, I appreciate the measures that China is taking to prevent the virus from spreading further. I now get my temperature checked some 3 or 4 times a day as I enter and re-enter my apartment. Every time they put the temperature gun to my head, the apartment security is very kind. Honestly, I am thankful these are the only kinds of guns hanging around here. The biggest gripe in my day was actually the fact that when I blew my electricity yesterday, I forgot to turn on the water heater again ... the water was running mighty cold after that run.

This is a time it is especially useful to be inclined towards the introvert end of the spectrum. I love my solitude. I have many books, podcasts, Netflix shows, and a Shutterfly book that I started three years ago to attend to.

Earlier today I met with my colleague and friend Clayton to collaborate about how we will work on online platforms to deliver curriculum to the students. As of right now, we will be working online until February 17th.

Alright, kiddos, time for some Microsoft TEAMS discussions.

I am largely ignoring much of the media. If you want to hear more raw truth, I encourage you to drop CNN and FoxNews, and tune in to Harvard Health and NPR. I logged in to Twitter tonight to find that what was trending for me was #coronavirus. Not surprising. Just below that, though, was the #NoMeatNoCoronaVirus and I was like I just cannot with you opportunists right now.

I am fortunate to be part of a community here that is one to offer support, outreach and just some laughs to one another. My principal and director have been close at hand when I have needed to offset some anxiety with a conversation. Those of us who stayed in Shenzhen rather than opting for Thailand, or other destinations, have formed a group chat. Only honest and useful updates are posted to the chat, which was started by an elementary teacher who has continued to offer family hikes to look for bugs and enjoy nature. My friend Megan, also an administrator, has arranged for a viewing of the SuperBowl tomorrow. We are #shekoustrong because of this caring community. I feel so blessed to feed off of this community, and also give back to it.

I plan to offer daily updates here at lettersfromasojournista. No fake news, no bullshit, just what is happening from here in the bubble of Shekou in Shenzhen, China.

For tonight, I sign off with a picture of Ms. Silvermoon Free Solo, shortly, Silvie.

Why is she pouting? I am not entirely sure, but I have a hunch it is because Patacon said something quite catty to her.

Be well, everyone. Sending love from Shenzhen.