Other potential folly from the US/ Ghana match

Note to self (and other interested blog patrons): Do not wear a communist country's futbol jersey to an Irish pub in the town where the United States of America's national anthem was written to watch the biggest tournament for world's most popular sport when your country is playing an African nation; people might stare.



ps: It's good to be back home.

Spring cleaning

These are some pictures of some women who really get at the heart of service. Their job is to be the grounds keepers of Hebei College of Finance, the school at which I am currently employed as a teacher. Their jobs in the Winter are to scrape snow off of the streets (no plows in Baoding city) using wicker brooms or makeshift shovels (usually a board nailed to a stake/ stick of PVC pipe); they sweep the streets daily, a never-ending job in a dusty campus with little or no grass; they clean windows and pick up bicycles that have been knocked over by the wind. However, the job I'm most impressed by is their "Spring cleaning" gig: before the school authorizes the lake to be refilled with water (during the winter, it is emptied to ensure no one tries ice skating and falls in), they sit on tiny stools in a row of ten-twelve, picking up every rock and stone on the lake bed and clean it off, ensuring that the lake is clean for the Spring. Check it out:

Nine of the twelve women cleaning the stones

A wide-view of the lake before it is refilled

Piles of already-cleaned stones dot the path the women take to clean the lake bed.

I'll never complain about having to teach 16 hours of class ever again.

A request for Asking Intentionally

Gentlemen,

I want to invite you into my head a little bit (a dangerous prospect, I know, but one I'm sure you'll enjoy walking through with me):

I'm currently engaged in a discerning process about my life ahead. I was accepted to a school in Vancouver called Regent College (cheers and jeers abound). I talked with my parents this weekend: my mom said, "Oh...here's your little sister," which kind of just made me laugh because I guess she didn't really know how to say whatever else she was thinking, while my dad was very supportive of the idea of going out there. So, having spoken with my family, I appeal once more to my Family. I'm excited to work through my heart over the next several weeks. I'm asking you guys to be lifting me up during this time in several ways:

* Discerning decisions
* Being in the word often over the next several weeks. I'm learning right now that my perceptions of Judges is wrong and that there's great glory to behold there. Hopefully I'll keep learning this about all things until I'm dead.
* Holding close to my team here in China: Jon, Tim, Kerry, Bethany, Amelia, and Cameron. There's a lot of change happening within the context of our team, which is a beautiful thing, as all circumstances are being engineered by an Engineer of perfect judgment (Sorry, Josh... not you).
* Asking daily for the hearts and minds and bodies and Rest and turning away from the old and into the New for my students here. This is something that I'm taking great joy in.
* Praise for Spring: http://ryaninbaoding.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-baoding-tianjin-spring.html
* Fantasy baseball is really fun. And Brian said that "my personal goal this season is to pay attention," something that is note-worthy, indeed.

I love you all a lot. Thanks for giving me your lives,
Ryan

Dancing with danger

I enjoy living in this country in East Asia for a lot of reasons. One reason, though, that I struggle with the country I'm living in is censorship: things like blocked websites. We've gotten creative with technology and been able to find ways around that (as, for instance, "blogger.com" is blocked in this country, but here I am typing!) A marvel to witness, indeed. So, I want to celebrate freedom by sharing some blocked sites with y'all! Here's an exciting one I found today about national integrity:

http://report.globalintegrity.org/?gclid=CKOrxvTcwqACFSgnawodoHNGbA

On starting the semmester and considering the future

Fellas,

I'm starting to teach a new semester tomorrow (3/8). I ask that you would each be lifting up my heart, as I desire to be all in what I'm doing here. Ask for my team and I to be able to focus well and not drift off mentally to what will be in another station of our lives.

I told my supervisor, Newt Hetrick, that I'll be pursuing grad school for next year instead of coming back here for a third trip on this merry-go-round in China. I'm excited, but still somewhat uneasy about this decision. Please ask for patience and a heart to pursue these conflicting passions well, even as planning for the one might take time and focus from the other. Ask for a multiplication of blessings on this season as we continue to mutually pursue the King.

I love you each dearly,
Ryan

Why are we Far Apart?

Xi nian qui le, wo de peng you! (Happy New Years, my friends!) I love you and am asking consistently for your hearts to live out the words He speaks, with authority, over us daily and that the world might know that He Lives. -Ryan

Why are we Far Apart?
… protect them by the power of your name—the name you gave me—so that they may be one as we are one.
‘Why are we far apart?’ I ask.

‘You are the one who left,’ you’d say;

no, no, from such you would refrain,

in kindness wondering on this task:

why are we far apart? Is it

we’ve grown too old to be among

the presence of our Father’s sons?

I snub such satanic hindrance

that says there’s any day we’ll meet

where we can’t share foolish wisdom,

the grass growing through our toes. Some

say we’ve lost the desire, deep

in places where guilty sin stings

the mightiest of men who pray

and stumble through the narrow way,

to pursue the heart of the king.


To this, I offer one brief thought:

to whom else would we go? It’s true,

you are the one who we look to,

the one who is what we have sought

beneath the cracking walls of some

old house in memories and dreams.

You’re first to hear lyrics we sing

among those walls, beckoning us come.

Is it the burden of the helper

standing by, nagging out his life

as she dishes his troubling strife?

No. Let each dear sister know her

life is well-loved among these men

with whom she’s chosen share this space.

May she wear honor on her face

and lend, in turn, the same to them.


Have we viewed mercy so many

times that we know His love enough,

the great love which he had for us

and by grace gave us eyes to see?

Before you give this answer, please

stop and tell me how you have gazed

upon the riches of his grace

immeasurable: how wide and deep?

how long and high? Do get behind

me, Satan! I laugh and ponder,

why are we far apart? Summer

was the last time we sat and shined

mutually in His Glory:

the ripening sun as we jogged on

and watched lightning in a field some

long-remembered day in July.

I see guys everywhere who need

Whoppaheads, and they need to know

they are one with the Father so

that they may be one just as we

are one, brothers living actions

and truth. He made us in His image

to mutually seek his visage,

and showed one body how to love.

Therefore, we’ve wept and seen the cross

(I see it squarely as before),

and bowed, united, on the floor.

We asked for grace (G., grant us grace!):

that’s why we ever came together,

why on separate paths we’ve embarked,

why perhaps one day we’ll unite

and why now we are far apart.

 

-Ryan Bettwy

Shijajuang

I spent the last 24 hours of my life in a place called Shijajuang, China watching my friend, Peter, get taped for a TV show where he sang a song called "Da Zhong Guo (Big China)" and performed with dozens of other foreign (non-Chinese) singers, dancers, and actors. He's actually a teacher in Northern Hebei Province, China, but he fit the role weell for this weekend. It remindeed me of "The UN" meets "The Super Happy Fun" Hour...complete with a set of African contortionists, flashing lights, a director going crazy to finish his show, and a Pakistani pop-star.

The first picture is of Peter, dressed in his traditional Chinese red-and-yellow attire, and I, dressed in my famous Chinese "The North Face" knock-off jacket, after his show.

The second is from the bus I rode on at 6:30 AM passing a tractor-trailer pulled over on the shoulder, which caught fire and had dozens of people streaming to pilfer the contents of the vehicle, which appeared to be mostly ramen noodles and dried food-stuffs.

Infield Fly Rule

Saturday morning.

"That's not the infield fly rule," I said to my teammate, a Korean doctoral student in Baoding's Hebei University. "If just man on first, no...this. If man first, second, or man first, second, third," I said pointing to the now-empty bases, "then, yes. Otherwise, 'ma yo' (not have)."

My teammate looked at me, shaking his head, '.Okay.' He had been on first base with no one else on base when there was a pop up on the infield. No one caught it, but still he stood there, not trying to run, just pointing to the sky that there should have been an infield fly rule called. He was wrong, which I explained. Well, which I tried to explain.

A moment later, after talking with the umpire, he ran back to first base and took over the poisition of the batter who hit the pop fly, who rightly should have occupied first now. With that, I stood behind home plate and realized the great folly of my explanation:

1.) I'm an American in China and my teammates (Korean and japanese students) speak little to no English.

2.) No one can really understand the infield fly rule to begin with...

At one point, I started realizing the weight of this truth and cheered for my teammates in English:

"Hey, baby, no one can understand me anyway so I'm just gonna yell a lot!" I said while being the third base coach. There was a runner on second who simply shook his head 'Yes' and tapped the brim of his helmet.

It's cold. We're playing hard, and not just baseball and soccer, either. Battle onward, dear brothers.

Stalwart of the Faith

This is what I'm doing this weekend. :

www.beijing-marathon.com

"He ran that day, everyone said, like a man inspired. But, in fact, he should never have won a race at all. Modern coaches would have been appalled at his running style. It was like his public speaking-- poor. . . "Liddle had a curious action, swinging his arms very high, bringing his knees well up, and throwing his head well back," said his competitor Innes Stewart. . . But that extraordinary style propelled him towards the finishing tape faster than anyone else in the world. And the exhilaration on his face as he ran! The exultation on his face as he threw back his head!

A fascinating insight into the style comes from Ian Charleston, the actor who plays Eric Liddell in the film, Chariots of Fire. . ."I suddenly realized--Liddell must have run like that. He must have run with his head up and literally trusted to go there. He ran with faith. He didn't even look where he was going. So I can see how that would have given him a lot of extra push in a way. He just let go, completely relaxed."

Sally Magnusson's The Flying Scotsman: A Biography of Eric Liddell, page 37.

"Stalwarts of the Faith"

The Cambridge Seven.

These guys really impressed me with the way that they seem so ready to lay it all down. Obviously, the China connection is there, but that is insignificant when viewed from the simple fact that they are our brothers:

"When these seven young men yielded their lives to [Him], they didn't runaway to a cave and become monks. They didn't shut their mouths and become quietly self-righteous. Instead, they continued to struggle and grow in love for [Him] and for others. They made the most of their situations for the sake of telling others about their [brother, Father, and friend], even though their individual positions meant nothing to them because of the joy and meaning they had in [Him].

("Report on 'The Cambridge Seven'")

I really benefited from reading through their biographies on this link. I mean...they're just a bunch of Whoppaheads being Whoppaheads.

-R.L. Betwy of "The Whoppahead Seven" (eight, nine, ten...)

FOOTBALL!

Miami weekend was great, brothers...I know I wasn't actually in Blacksburg to see the game, but little did we know that thousands of miles to the East, there was a game of immense importance waged between the English and the Finance Departments of Hebei College of Finance. Not only did I have the pleasure of being a part of this intense struggle for football immortality, but I was also honored with being the starting sweeper for the English Department!

The Finance department was the vaunted opponent on this overcast Thursday afternoon, set to play the role of refined, regimented, uniformed Goliath to our "Sandlot", "Squints" Paldorous-kissing-his-lifeguard, throwing up on the twirl-a-whirl while swallowing chewing tobacco David...they had defeated their first two opponents, 17-3, and seemed poised for another blow out. Vince had little faith that we would win.

"If we win this game," he posed before our match, thinking of the most outlandish threat imaginable, "I will become a (hr'$+/@^."

I paused at Vince's threat, then said in an insincere, yet ponderously upward-lifting tone, "Okay...I'll 'lift' that up for you."

The game began with the Finance Department kicking off, intentionally giving us the ball as a sign of friendship and acknowledging us as the "lesser" team in the competition. I recognized this as more of an insult than a sign of respect and honor. I gave three reasons for this reaction to the gesture:

1. I am American with bred American pride

2. I'm a Whoppahead

3. I lived with Wheeler for twelve months of my life.

Either way, I was touched with the tinge of tenacity, which thrust me to an athletic fury that saw shots which rivaled only the biggest Beckham ball game and Rinaldino ricochet. In actuality, I only had two shots on goal in this game, but our team did play brilliantly. Nearing the end of the first half, which saw many scoring chances for both teams, our enter forward, Henry (#5) got loose in a one-on-one with the keeper only a few feet from the goal. Shifting his body weight to the left, he baited the keeper to go with him, only to leave the ball off his right foot, just out of the reach of the keeper's flailing legs. Our team had drawn first blood...but knew well as the half drew to a close that we were far from finished.

"We're only a lucky shot away from this being tied," Jon, my roommate and Newly-Anointed Keeper of the Ring...uh, I mean goal, he's the goalie, the keeper of the goal and has exactly as much experience before entering this tournament at said position as Sean Glennon's estimated NFL starts at QB: zero.

"At least I know I can't get hurt playing goalie," Jon said. My mind instantly recalled the pictures immortalized on the "Wall of Pain" in the Willard House living room of Matt Walker and the clenched-jaw aftermath of his "not getting hurt" while playing goalie for FC Whoppa.

"Uh, just don't be too careful," I told Jon, rushing back into reality.

So, things were looking up/ lucky for our team going into the second half. There were a fair number of "Jia you, peng you!" (literally, "add oil," but also meaning "Let's go, friends!") chants emitted into the collective ears of my teammates during the next 35-minute half as we continued to feel the heat. I felt like it was FC Whoppahead all over again, except this time without the awkward-looking slips and strange positions I ended up getting into when trying to play defense against people who REALLY knew what they were doing. They controlled the ball most of the second half, but our defense stacked in tight and continued forcing tough shots and deflecting would-be saves for corner kicks. Jon made a few great saves and we ended up keeping them at bay until, with about 10 minutes left in the game, Henry received a cleared ball at midfield with only one defender back. He juked the defender for one move, then dumped the ball into the left corner of the goal box, running parallel with the defender step-for-step. When they reached the ball, Henry gained control, only to be dragged to the ground in a heap of man, reminiscent of a post-Hokie-TD dog pile in Lane. The ref blew the whistle and we'd earned a pk. Henry stepped up, brushed off some dirt, and promptly punched home the second goal of the game. We were winning, 2-0, with minutes left. The rest of the game was chippy, with a few fouls called on both teams. Our team cleared a few corner kicks and finally ended with a tough 50/50 ball that Jon punched out before colliding with the Finance's center-forward. The referee blew the three "tweets" indicating our 2-0 victory!

Life's living well, brothers. Ask for discipline, faith, and for thanksgiving.

Whoppa' What!

Bettwy

ps-- There's one "Perfect" shot where the guy shoots from the top of the TX A&M stadium and makes it into a hoop on the field...nasty stuff.

I bought a motorcycle!

FC English Department

In-game action versus Finance.