Ping Pong Date

I have acquired an admirer. On the first day, he told us we could call him "Spring sound," which Lee translated more correctly for him as "Spring thunder," so now he goes by Thunder. Thunder is very eager to practice English conversational skills. Thunder finds our class very interesting. Thunder falls asleep in pronunciation class, right after ours, though. Gina wanted to know what I was doing to keep his interest. It has been noted that I am the only unmarried woman on this trip, and this may have something to do with it.

On Wednesday, Thunder stayed after class and started a conversation about when all of us English teachers have free time. Then it was did we have anything to do on Thursday night. Then it was whether I had anything to do on Thursday night. Lee, the traitor, busied himself turning off all the lights and fans in the classroom and getting ready to go, being of no help at all. Since it had already been established that there were no English teacher meetings on Thursday, I felt kind of trapped. Thunder then asked if I knew how to play ping pong. When I said no, he declared that he would teach me. So this is how it came to be that I spent an hour last night learning how to play ping pong the Chinese way.

As it turns out, the English department owns two ping pong tables for its teachers, so Thunder got permission to use their room. He brought two different kinds of paddles, vertical (Chinese) style, and horizontal (Western) style. A horizontal paddle is held like a tennis racquet, so I chose that because it seemed more logical to me. However, after about 10 minutes, he said I should learn the Chinese style, and indeed, it is easier. It looks bizarre, however. It has a very short handle, which you wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base of and then allow the end of the handle to rest on the part of your hand between the two fingers. Your middle finger rests bent against the back of the paddle. This makes it look like you’re holding the paddle upside down, but by relaxing the wrist, it is actually easier to turn the paddle in all directions, at least 180 degrees, and hit the ball more accurately. This may explain why I was so bad at tennis.

It turns out that I’m not that bad at ping pong. We weren’t keeping score, but I know I did score a few times by accidentally tipping the ball over the top of the net. Go me! I also did not have to worry too much about intensive one-on-one conversation with Thunder, because ping pong concentration does not allow for a lot of chit-chat. So I learned how to play pong the Chinese way from a Chinese guy without getting hit on too much. I had set a time limit of one hour, because of a "meeting," so Thunder walked back to my building with me. On the way, he adroitly changed the subject when I suggested that next time he wanted to play ping pong, we should invite Lee, because Lee (truthfully) hasn’t played in a long time and should learn the Chinese way. He then suggested that, because I am so busy during the day, he might show me the sights of Hangzhou by evening sometime. I mentioned I had a lot of lesson planning to do. I will be wary of any suggestions from him that might include going near hills.

When I get back from my weekend in Shanghai, I will tell the story of having a Chinese foot massage, which was the "meeting" that meant my "date" with Thunder was only one hour long. But now I have to leave!