Saving my Soul ...

Beijing, China

This one is all about Winnie, the Singaporean lady who says of her cultural heritage that she is a "banana": yellow on the outside and white on the inside. I've been staying with her and Evonne for a month. Evonne had warned me that her flatmate was ... special. She had been unsure if we'd get along. I had decided to make every effort. They were both very nice to me letting me stay at their place - not a matter of course for Asian women. Evonne had further warned that while she was a believer in God, Winnie was a very strong believer. I had assured her there would not be an issue.
I'm still not sure how successful I was with that. I guess we both tried but put an atheist in a room with a fundamentalist and make a guess what will happen.
Even though I've always sort of loosely believed in a higher power it's never (espeically recently) really been the Christian God. I've always had issues with the Church and its history of violence, persecution and meddling. Nowadays, I'm interested in religion from a purely scientific point of view. It's all a form of mythology to me. These days now and after coming to China, I'm particularly curious about Buddhism and Taoism.
Winnie on the other hand believes in what she calls the "one true, living God". She's incredibly vehement about this. She sees proof of it everywhere. She rejects any other religion as idol worship. Once she saw me sitting on her sofa in a lotus seat. I used to do Yoga for a while in UK and sometimes try it again or use it to correct my sitting posture. She told me off because, she said, with meditation I would open my soul to powers that I didn't understand and of which I didn't know if they were good or evil. I mentioned that I had done this in UK but she responded that this was Asia and things were different here. Another time she caught me listening to a CD I had bought in Ulaanbaatar, which featured Mongolian throat singing. I have to admit it does sound bizarre when you hear it for the first time. She said it was chanting. I objected that the title of the song was "Mother Mongolia" and surely the song didn't have anything to do with the profane. I sometimes hate it when my mouth opens before the brain has time to intervene! She insisted I didn't understand Mongolian, so how could I know for sure and she didn't want it played in her flat. With that the matter was off the table. And there were many more things. Small encounters like these. I don't know why they happened. I got the feeling the more I reminded myself not to provoke her the more it seemed to happen on its own accord.
I'm not sure when it started. Some time during the first or second week she must have made the decision that my soul needed saving and she began talking to me about God. As it turned out, we had both grown up without a father. I think she took that for a sign. "You have a father in Heaven", she would often say, "and he loves you." Not that I've ever really wanted a father. It was useless trying to explain to her my view point of religion. Or the matter of fathers.
One day she gave me a T-shirt. She was proud that it was a genuine Nike shirt, not a cheap copy you find on markets everywhere. She rejected that like a number of other aspects of life that are just typically Chinese. I duely thanked her for the T-shirt. Wrong again. "Don't thank me", she said, "it's from your father in Heaven. He told me to go and buy it for you." I tried not to let it show. "Thank you", I said again.
Another time she gave me three small comic books, saying it was to help me practice my Chinese. They were stories from the Bible. As comics. The angels looked a bit like Marvel heroes.
Then last week I woke up to find a brown paper bag standing next to my bed. It contained a little hand written note from Winnie and the "New Revised Standard Edition" of the Bible. In English and Chinese. A massive volume. It was also from my father in Heaven. Now, this was getting a bit creepy. Of course, I trust the two ladies. I've grown to like Evonne. But the notion of Winnie coming in while I was sleeping to carefully deposit the bag next to me is still slightly odd.
One night I was having a particularly animated discussion with Winnie about the views on religion. It was almost turning into an argument when she suddenly stopped me in mid-sentence saying: "I don't want to talk to you anymore. I only want to talk to God now." Then she began praying asking God for forgiveness for my views, to love me more and to enlighten me, and so on. Then after about ten minutes of prayer she disappeared into her room leaving me bewildered. Nobody has interrupted me in quite this way before.
Then this week, the matter finally climaxed. It was on Winnie's birthday, just before she went to the office. We were standing in the kitchen. She was talking again about our father in Heaven when she said she wanted to make a birthday wish. She wanted to pray for me. She wanted me to open myself to God. In retrospect it seems that she meant to make a final effort to convert me. I really didn't want this. I wanted to do my homework. Anything else. I felt a huge waste of time and energy coming up. However, conscience kicked in: It was her birthday, she'd been very kind and generous to me, so I should indulge her. I cautiously agreed. Winnie began praying asking God to enlighten me, to send down His holy fire, fill my heart with His love and more such things in minor variations. As her prayer grew more intense she came up to me. I tried to retreat discreetly only to hit the wall on my second step. She put her hand on my chest and went on. Could I feel how hot her hand was, she asked me. I thought that, of course, it was warm - she was a living human being. She told me to close my eyes, to open myself to God. I obediently closed my eyes and tried to think holy things. Just be patient a little longer then she'll be happy and leave you to your affairs. But she didn't. She rested her other hand on my head. She was feeling the heat, she said. She was standing quite close to me. Under different circumstances, with a different girl, it shot through my head, I would actually enjoy this a lot. I remember doing my best to keep myself from going through my shopping list in the privacy of my head. Then she said she could feel God's presence and I should sit down because when He came over me I would be weak. She lead me to the sofa in the living room and sat me down while she knelt in front of me. Winnie continued praying with her hands resting on my thighs. She kept repeating that she felt hot, that could only be God's holy fire flowing through her. The whole situation was more than suggestive, I wonder if she realised that at the time. Thoughts reared their heads that had nothing to do with praying. At the same time I couldn't help wondering what she actually wanted from me - and what would make her stop. Was she honestly waiting for me jump up and shout "Haleluyah!"? While she continued praying and put one hand on my chest again I tried to think of a way to gently but firmly tell her that it wasn't happening and that I didn't want to go on with this anymore. Eventually, she stopped by herself. She was out of breath and her hand had left a moist spot on my shirt. "Can you feel it", she asked me. I asked back if she wanted the truth. Nod. I shook my head sadly. "No." I had tried to tell her before that maybe, one day I would find my way to God but there was no point trying to rush it. At this she finally gave up and retreated to her room to freshen up. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I checked the time. We had taken about 40 minutes! When I told them about Winnie friends had already told me I should go and find my own place - soon. Some had said that she was scary. Now, I'm sure she had the best of intentions and I would certainly miss Evonne but that moment I knew that my friends were right.
Now, I want no misunderstanding. I've seen Winnie has a kind heart. She has tolerated me in her flat for a month and tried her best to make me feel welcome and at home. I'm sure that with our differences in beliefs that hasn't always been easy for her. At the same time she's been a hard test. I've never met anybody who's ultimately as fundamentalist as she. Born in a different day and time she might have been another Joan of Arc, a crusader, an inquisitor, a missionary. The way she can describe her faith, with such passion and conviction, without a quantum of doubt must be quite impressive to those who are receptive to such things. Like the Chinese girl I saw at her friend's birthday party. At the same time I note that she and a lot of her Singaporean friends from church and Bible group are middle-aged, single women. I wonder if that enormous passion they throw into their faith isn't the very same that other women might have for their boyfriend or husband. A cynical or analytical voice may even ask if all this "heat" they feel doesn't just come from some repressed sexuality? Ultimately, whatever reason there may be I find it hard to agree with or sometimes even accept her point of view. It's not only in conflict with my personal beliefs but also with everything that I've ever learnt about God. So, I'm sure even if I was Christian I would still disagree with her. I hope she'll forgive me that. I do appreciate her help.