Friday night we went to a farewell dinner for “the Russian Lady” who has been here one month teaching oil painting.  She invited us to the small exhibition of the work she has done while here, and the small ceremony in which the department thanked her for her service to the university.  Then, as we were there, we were invited to the dinner.

A table for ten in a private room was our setting.  Around the table were the head of the art department, four art teachers, a high school student who is the son of one of the teachers, a music teacher who has studied in Russia, the Russian Lady, and the two of us.  I met the young student on the bus we ride to school.  We often share a seat and speak together in English.  He asked me one day, “Do you know the Russian Lady?” I answered that I had met her.  He told me that his father studied in Russia and could speak Russian.  During a recent holiday the boy had gone along on a trip arranged by the art department for the purpose of sketching the countryside. I met his father last night. The young man was invited to the dinner so that we would have another interpreter.

My voice teacher also studied in Russia and is a friend of the Russian Lady and attended the dinner.  I met my voice teacher through her daughter who rides the school bus.  This child was the first on the bus to speak to me.  When Dear Husband gave a party for me, he invited the child and her mother.  At that party I learned she was a voice teacher and later on I asked if she might teach me.

As is the Chinese custom, many toasts were made, both group and individual.  These generally followed the line of appreciation of friendship, the three nations represented at the table, and the three generations represented.  Near the end of the dinner, I mentioned that I had met the art teacher through his son and the voice teacher through her daughter and the children through the bus.  So a toast was raised “To the Bus!” and we all drank to that.