I have a guitar. It's not mine, but they're letting me borrow it. And it sounds good too... I guess... you should ask my neighbors to get an unbiased opinion. Well at least I for one am enjoying it. I don't think I could survive without it. When stress starts collecting in all the hidden depths, it's a sure way to flush it out. Words articulate my mind, music articulates my gut.
So here I am, singing away my frustrations and fears; longing; thanking; praising; baring my naked soul to God. And then I realize something. I can hear every word from the street below. Every word. I forgot that cities aren't exactly private. And then I realize something else. Every word is in Chinese. Good thing I'm broadcasting in English, eh? (Hopefully by the end I'll be spouting some Mandarin too.)
I'm not just playing in my room. My guitar has made several guest appearances at the schools, and the foreign fellowship, and this, and that. What I'm really excited about is giving guitar lessons. The music here is... not good. But for a good reason. I forgot how luxuriously we live in America, and how expensive instruments are. China may groom an elite set of musicians, but the average guy is a different squirrel. This is generalizing, I know, but I think it's true. Anyways, I'm giving mass lessons to about 10 beginners and doing one-on-one with a few. Fun stuff.
Happy Easter!
