From rural China to laptops and laundromats
(AP)
Updated: 2005-09-13 09:36

She grew up and became a teacher, in the town with the cybercafe, Ninglang. She took an unusual approach.

"Most teachers in China are very serious, or they think they can't control their students otherwise," says Sharon Lou, Mei's roommate, who is also from China. "But Mei talks to them in a much mature way, so they love her."

Mei encouraged students to relax and talk openly, giving them her phone number and address. She taught them English through American songs, and they came to her for translations and for advice.

"I don't care if they go to a very good college or be a farmer, as long as they find themselves," Mei says. "One student wrote that he failed again and wanted to commit suicide. I said, 'What? College is your whole life? No.' He said he felt much better."

Now in America, Mei hums with ideas. She wants to see how parents back home can get involved in education. She speaks enthusiastically of parent-teacher associations.

"There's a sense of community Mei has I wish we had," Berkowitz says. "It will be very hard when she leaves."

Mei agrees, but she has another good reason to go.

Every day, she gets on the phone and listens to her youngest student grow up.

When Mei left, her daughter Deshdima was 3 months old. Now she's 3. During the last week of August, in another hint of the weight of education in China, Deshdima entered kindergarden.

This separation has been the hardest part of Mei's journey. "But I knew very well about myself," she wrote soon after arriving in the New York capital. "If I wanted to serve the society much better, I had no choice but to go further to learn more."

Now Mei sits curled up in a chair in front of her laptop and bilingual books in her off-campus apartment. She talks about bringing the first satellite dish to her village in China, driven over a recently built and very raw dirt road. In the village, a generator can run the TV and the single light bulb, but not both at the same time.

Mei's cell phone rings. "Excuse me," she says, casually reaching for her earpiece.

The caller isn't family, but a new student from Uzbekistan. Mei offers to take her to the bank for a new account, and to the Social Security office for paperwork. Two years have passed, and Mei's become an expert. She knows well what a newcomer to America needs.

And, she adds, always so straightforward, "I will spend time with her if she wants to cry."

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