I am a firm believer in the saying, “Bad dress rehearsal, good show.” I am not a believer in the idea “bad WEEK of dress rehearsals, good show.” And that’s literally what this week was.
To say I had the time of my life this week would be a straight up lie. Half the time, it felt as if the Duke students were walking blind. From last minute scheduling and continually changing plans, I felt like I never knew what to expect from the day. Worse, I never knew what to tell my host family when they wanted to make plans to celebrate our last full week together. I spent hours putting together backgrounds for parts of the performance, half of which weren’t mine, only to learn that the way I formatted them needed to be changed like this, now like this, now like that, now back to how they originally were. Andrew and I spent hours figuring out and translating our lighting cues for the final acting performance only for our instructions to be ignored. My friends and I got reprimanded for not including the No. 9 students and teachers in our final group dance, even though we were never told who would be participating. That day, we had to stay two extra hours to teach them the dance. One of the two costumes I asked the teachers to buy for my acting class was ordered in the incorrect size; because of this, we had to swap out the student acting in that costume to someone else who could actually fit into it.
Caveat: I know a large part of this program is about flexibility and adaptability. As a dancer, I’m used to adjusting details, in the moment if necessary, when things go wrong. I know life never pans out the way you want it to. HOWEVER, I think the reason why this week frustrated me so much was because I felt like a lot of the issues could have been resolved if communication between everyone involved in the production was better. For example, on Saturday, the day of our dress rehearsal at the Zhuhai Television Station, we all were informed that sound and lighting would not be rehearsed because the workers were not coming. What’s the point then? Sunday, the day of the show, we were informed halfway through tech rehearsal that our background files were either too big or had to be converted from a PowerPoint to a video. I wish someone had clarified earlier, especially because I was specifically told before that a PowerPoint would be fine.
I spent six hours perfectly timing a background PowerPoint with a song that is now unwillingly engrained in my brain, only for it to not work. Aiya! I ended up having to convert the background into a movie during lunch before the actual show, but unfortunately all the great GIFs I found lost their flair and became still pictures ☹
Rehearsals with the students at No. 9 were not any easier. During rehearsal time, Andrew and I found ourselves having to get Amy, our helper, to call and tell around half our class to show up. In the mornings when school buses would transport us to the Television Station, our class was consistently the last to board because the students would not get to No. 9 on time, no matter how many times Andrew and I sent English and Chinese reminders to them through WeChat. The day of the show, one of our kids decided to just not show up, and another girl who came to our class exactly once this whole program suddenly decided she wanted to be in the show. Again, aiya.
The lowest point of this whole program for me occurred on Wednesday, when I actually LOST it with my acting class. To set the stage (pun intended): Andrew and I had asked all seven kids in a restaurant scene in our play to bring chopsticks and bowls as props. Only one girl, Emma, did. We spent these whole five weeks informing our unusually rowdy groups of middle schoolers to listen when we gave notes to help them make the play better. While we were doing just that to a student, a group in the back decided to not listen and instead rambunctiously goofed off. The result: Emma’s bowl (which mind you, is actually her parents’) smashed into tiny bits of porcelain scattered across the tile floor. To make matters worse: No one offered to help me clean the mess up, except for one student who was not even involved in the incident. After raising my voice so loud that the singing rehearsal next door could hear me over their music (sorry Jinjie and Alexander), I ended rehearsal early and went back to the office to cry.
Looking back, it seems so stupid that I got so upset over such a small thing. But in the moment, I was this weird overwhelming mix of angry, disappointed, frustrated, and sad. Angry because the one girl who actually listened to us and brought a prop was the girl who suffered the most, especially when she had to call her dad and explain what happened which led to MANY tears. Disappointed because I thought the kids would respect each other and each other’s things more. Frustrated because these kids never seemed to remember anything we told them, and that I had let my emotions get the better of me. Sad because it seemed like these kids intentionally didn’t want to listen or help us.
I feel like now is a good time to mention yet again how amazing our site coordinator, Queen Yanan, is. She was the first person I spoke to after the incident and really was there for me to let me vent. Thank you for all the help and words of comfort you provided. Sorry for being an emotional mess :/
Flashforward to show day, the most at home I’ve ever felt during this entire trip. I missed the stage, the lights, the craziness, the screaming in the hallways, the shushing in the wings, the inevitable meltdowns and wired nerves, the smell of sweat. It brought me back to my best memories in the theater before college. I couldn’t help but smile as I recognized just how nervous some of the No. 9 teachers and my teammates were (yes, Andrew, I’m talking about you pacing up and down the hallways LOL). It was clear to me that many were out of their comfort zone. Meanwhile, I felt peaceful. It felt good to be back in a territory I knew how to navigate well. While I couldn’t wait for the show to be over because that would mean the end of all the miscommunication, I also wanted to savor every second.
Unfortunately, savoring does not actually make the day go by any slower. The show passed in a blink of an eye, as all shows do. Our students acted the best they ever did during the play. The audience laughed at every joke, I somehow managed to not screw up the timing for the background transitions, Andrew succeeded in handling all the props and microphones backstage himself, and no more porcelain bowls were harmed in the process. It was miraculous. I feel like Andrew and I had an especially tough time with our acting class so it was nice to see our class’s hard work pay off, especially after it seemed like some of the No. 9 teachers were doubting us. We were incredibly proud of the kids. Most importantly, they seemed proud of themselves.
Once acting finished, Andrew and I had a quick change into the final group dance which marked the last time my teammates and I would ever get to dance together on stage. It was bittersweet, but I loved every second. I felt like we were genuinely having fun together while providing joy, however brief, to the students watching us. Those are the moments I’m going to miss the most. Looking back, I also realize it is the only time I have ever been on a stage and haven’t felt nervous. I think it’s because my fellow Dukies have made me feel safe, accepted and loved. Y’all really are gems and we better keep in contact when school starts again.
While I am sad that the show is now over and my time with the No. 9 middle schoolers has officially ended, I found that many of my teammates seemed to be getting more emotional than I was. I’m still trying to pinpoint the reason as to why. It’s not that the students didn’t affect me, and it isn’t that they aren’t important to me. I think it’s because I’ve spent basically every summer of my life meeting new friends, only to have to leave them forever after X number of weeks (thanks, ballet intensives). The feeling is familiar. Life goes on. I know first-hand that you never truly forget the people who made your summer so memorable. I know that although they may no longer be physically with me, they will always be in my heart. The feelings of love, joy, and happiness that I have experienced in Zhuhai with everyone will always be in my heart. And that’s what’s most important.
我爱珠海. 我爱九中.
Seriously.