Odd Habits of the Chinese Collegiate, Part I

Over the semester I have begun to notice several unique trends and habits that my students have, so I thought I should start documenting them:

1.  Wearing only the frames of eyeglasses.  Apparently glass-less glasses are "in" amongst the Chinese hip.  I find spectacles make one look very distinguished, so I normally wouldn't be flabbergasted if so many of them didn't wear contacts at the same time.  If you dig the nerdy look, then why the dickens couldn't you just leave the lenses in and spare yourself the hassle of sticking a piece of plastic to your cornea?

2.  Bringing up the year 2012 in every single assignment or activity.  Chinese students are very impressionable.  Or they may just have really bad taste in movies.  Either way we should probably stop exporting entertainment based on pseudo-science and pseudo-myth over here.

More to come!

Leb Wohl

Jawohl Mein Teacher!--We Mention the War and More

You know you’re halfway across the world when students idolize a mass-murderer in  a midterm project.  My students' assignments were to create a political party running for office in a struggling country known as “Petoria” (technically Family Guy coined this name before I did.)  It was something I hadn’t tried before and it was a great opportunity to subliminally indoctrinate them with ideas about governments with more than just one political party.  I gave them some issues to address in their platforms: environmental and economic decline, poverty, and a war with Belgium.

Most of the parties were pretty ordinary and the solutions they promised airy and vague (yep, they hit the nail right on the head).  Some of these had a few good ideas, like raising the retirement age and spreading awareness about the importance of the environment.  However, some of them were quite inspired, such as the “Slim Party,” which advocated that girls should lose more weight in order to attract rich husbands, therefore protecting themselves against economic recession.  The “Fruit Party” not only solved every single problem with a diet heavier in fruits, but also reduced the nation's risk of cancer.

Then there was the “Hitler Party.”  Leave it to my English majors to suggest the policies of a genocidal dictator to solve Petoria’s problems.  And they had some good arguments to boot. By emulating Hitler' s militarism, they would continue the war against Belgium in order to boost the economy. Sure, he completely devastated Europe, but not before he brought Germany out of the Depression.   “After all,” said one, “the US did the same thing by invading Iraq.”  I informed them that though their point was valid, it actually didn’t work in that case.  As a means to improve the environment they suggested exporting all pollutants to developing countries.  And all traitors would be shot without due process, etc.

Western political correctness doesn’t exist in China—which is why I love it.  Of course there are a number of other issues you have to avoid—Tibet, Taiwan, etc.—but National Socialism is not one of them. Despite the fact that these “superfans” of the Führer were being funny, I did try to emphasize just how diabolical the man was.  When it comes to World War II and the subject of genocide, Chinese students dwell mostly (and intensely) on Japanese atrocities like the Nanking massacre.  

Acts of oppression outside of China are sometimes completely unheard of.  None of my students last semester were aware of the Iranian protests.  At the same time the catastrophic experiments of Mao and the CCP, like the Cultural Revolution, are usually downplayed using the old 60-40 argument (60% of what he did was good, 40% was bad).  Of course when it comes to my students, much of this could just be adolescent indifference (and a little harmless state-controlled media brain-washing).  Regardless, sometimes I find myself trying to break the Chinese "bubble" and debate violence and oppression with them in a more international perspective.

Leb Wohl.

I Quit

I quit this week for about 40 minutes.  My juniors had their second to last class on Tuesday, so I decided to do something extra special--I gave them authority.  I told them bluntly that I was now a student and that they needed to elect new teachers from their number.  It made sense; Of all my classes they were the ones most likely to actually be brave and rise to the challenge (or volunteer their classmates, which is usually what happens).  After a few awkward minutes there were two volunteers.

Now just because I let them be teachers did not mean I trusted them entirely.  Left to their own devices, who knows what could have happened (if given little more time, I would have tried that approach too.)  So, I did give them a sheet listing a few requirements.  They had to do a debate and a game, but they could choose which ones.

We managed to have two debates, which went pretty well.  First up was the age-old dispute of "love vs. money--which one is the most important?"  When it comes to romance, my students are always idealistic, so at first only one person favored money and I had to jump in to even the odds.   Some of my more reticent students even got involved and I saw passion that I had not seen before.  

I forget what the second one was.  I think it was "sex before marriage" or something.  By then I was too busy trying to be as naughty as possible, hoping to provoke some disciplinary action from the substitute teachers (and partly out of revenge--though this class was my best-behaved).  This involved texting, mock-hitting on my female classmates, and of course, speaking Chinese.

All in all I would say it was a success, even if a bit disorganized.  I had fun.

Leb Wohl 

Obama Doesn't Use Twitter Either. I Rest My Case.

My President came to China this past week.  It was was a much-anticipated visit.  Most Chinese seem to like Obama, even if he slaps tariffs on their tires.  He came to Shanghai and spoke to a group of "priveleged" Chinese students (a.k.a the ones allowed to go to a prestigious Chinese school).  Nothing revolutionary was said--the students' questions were obviously handpicked by officials--but nothing was censored over the internets or the limited TV coverage it received. Anyone with a computer and connection could hear his well-reasoned remarks on internet freedom and Taiwan--yes, the times are a' changin'.

I decided to use Obama's visit in class.  I asked my students to pretend that they were the "priveleged" and to draft questions for the President.  Of course I got to be the President.  As expected (and to my delight) there were some pointed questions about US-China tensions and Taiwan.  I did my best to channel Obama, saying again and again that the US did not seek to undermine Chinese growth (and with a straight face) and was committed to the "One-China" policy; It was very hard to explain that even though we did not consider Taiwan independent, it was still regarded a distinct autonomous province...if that makes any sense whatsoever.  

Me: "So...um...basically their are two systems for one China and...er....."

Student: "But Peter, why then does the US give Taiwan weapons?"   

Me: "So...uh...your system doesn't invade their system, silly!"  Sigh....

I wouldn't regard it as one of my successes.  I talked way too much and didn't always allow time for follow-up questions (as if there would be any...) an I'm afraid I may have come across as condescending sometimes.  I don't like doing most of the talking, but they rarely leave me any other choice in these discussions.  Frankly I don't think I did that great a job explaining the US perspective any better than the Chinese media would.  If war breaks out due to my bad ambassadorial skills, please forgive me world.

Oh and might as well while I'm at it: FREE TIBET!  (With purchase of another Tibet of equal or greater value).

Leb Wohl

Close Encounters of the Middle-Kingdom Kind

So, a few weeks ago (late as usual) our class theme was "outer space."  One of our "stellar" (pun, get it?) activities was one I called "First Contact."  In this activity students took on the role of either a human or extra-terrestrial and created a skit in which humans meet aliens for the first time.  

The set up was: "Two friends are camping in the woods.  Maybe they are best buds from high school or maybe they are sweethearts (cue giggles from about 30 girls).  They are roasting marshmallows (or making out) when suddenly they see bright, descending lights in the sky.  They follow the lights to where they land.  They walk into a large clearing and before them lies a strange craft.  Suddenly a door opens and out of the bright interior light steps a strange creature (or creatures), the likes of which they never could have imagined...."

I had the students brainstorm questions each party would ask the other.  Most were about their home planet or the purpose of their visit.  Often the aliens had come to take over the earth or save humanity from some kind of cataclysm.  Others came to find suitable husbands for their daughters.  Often each group would teach the other a custom from their planet, like walking, the concept of money, or inviting them to a dinner of traditional Chinese food.

Without costumes they had to rely on mannerisms and funny voices to display their other-worldliness.  One pair spoke in monotonic unison, another student was a robot, so he moved  and spoke like a machine (and slowed down when his batteries were drained).  Other features were revealed through rather funny dialogue ("Which head do you use?")  I also had them draw pictures of themselves on the board.  I picked some of the most creative ones to show you.

Leb wohl (and prosper).

My First Chinese Halloween

I was in Beijing the last weekend visiting a friend.  Wanting to celebrate, we found a Halloween party and dressed up in makeshift costumes comprised of sunglasses and Soviet cossack hats.  The party was fun...until one tiny incident occurred to ruin the rest of the evening.  That story is for another time, but suffice it to say that it put me in a foul mood for Monday.

Halloween in Chinese is "Wan sheng jie."  It isn't exactly a popular holiday, but it is one most of my students have heard of.  Some of them even went to the local Dinosaur-themed park to celebrate.  To celebrate the holiday in class (and get rid of my funk from Beijing) I told them a "ghost story."  This one I remembered from my childhood, and it is about a boy who loves a girl who always wears a yellow ribbon around her neck.  As the grow old together he keeps asking her about the ribbon and she never gives him a straight answer.   It isn't exactly a tale for scaring people around a campfire, but it is still creepy, and that counts.  Personally I think it is a great tale, but my students didn't seem to like the somewhat anti-climactic (but absolutely perfect) ending.  I won't tell you how it ends, but you can probably guess when you think about it (what "Halloween" image does "neck" conjure up?).  

After my tale, I had them write there own ghost stories.  Some were absolutely wonderful original (I think) works about vengeful ghosts, spiritual mediums, and creepy collegiate murder mysteries.  I gave them the option of translating a traditional Chinese tale into English (in their own words of course).  One that was particularly interesting was tale which they called "Rebirth."  It was about a mother who gave her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth to her "faceless" daughter so that she could marry her true love.  The mother is then reincarnated as her granddaughter, still "faceless" and the mother then gives her sensory organs to the new daughter.  And the cycle keeps going on.  Not exactly a ghost story, but certainly creepy.

My students do know how to spin a good yarn.  Sometimes you just have to force them to do it. 

Leb Wohl.

1st Journal Entries Lead to a Lesson on Plagiarism

Plagiarism is a massive problem in Chinese colleges, but who can blame them? Most Deans and Professors let them get by with it. I hadn't assigned too much written work my first semester so I didn't notice it as much, but when I started assigning "English Journals" in my Changzhou courses the problem became glaringly obvious.

The first topic had been simple and introductory: "Write something unique about where you are from and/or something interesting about your family." Other than peculiar coincidence that everyone's family was "harmonious" and nearly every dad "humourous" (accursed Queen's English), their family stories were mostly original and often touching. These tales ranged from childhood recollections of swimming in the river next to the farm to sad accounts of fathers who must work in the bigger cities--rarely coming home.

However, when many described their hometowns they channeled travel guides instead of their own creativity. Whole paragraphs were ripped from bad online translations of city homepages and other tourist sites. Complex words like "systematic" and "sub-mountain climate" raised red flags. And so do a lot of unnecessarily-specific, even trivial facts, like the exact location of a famous Daoist mountain in relation to downtown Changshu, the main thoroughfares encircling the metropolitan area of Suzhou, or a list of the recognitions Taizhou has received ("Best Hygenic City", "National Comprehensive Economic Strength City", etc.)

Needless to say some of them received poor marks on the assignment and every class this week got an earful about the rampant copying. Even if the perpetrators weren't guilty of outright intellectual theft, they had completely missed that the point of the journal was to express your own thoughts, not borrow those of whoever it is that writes for those Chinese city-websites. But it's hard to teach them what is and what isn't normally acceptable in personal reflective writing, and even harder to justify adherence these principles. Whose to say you can't write anything you want in these kinds of assignments?

Leb Wohl

Microwaves of the Future

Watching the National Day parade in Beijing on TV, I couldn't help but notice how the anchors kept mentioning the groundbreaking new advances in "information-technology" on each piece of military equipment. This seemed a bit odd at first, but then it hit me--it's to block the enemy's Twitter. Utterly devastating. I think the idea would be funnier if it wasn't so true. Have you noticed how many American politicians are tweeting these days? The military can't be far behind.

Teaching has been an adjustment this semester. Though I've managed to plan things better and achieve a respectable degree of standardization in my lessons, their are new problems here at JTUT. My Oral English classes are bigger here than in Jiaxing. I now have about 30 names to memorize. I've started using naming themes an mnemonics--for instance one class is made up entirely of Tolkien characters--but it only helps a little. Also, having over 30 students demands new techniques for keeping order and the use of Chinese to a minimum.

As usual there are 2 or 3 students that dominate each class discussion, mostly due to their higher confidence and language-ability (each of these traits greatly benefits the other). I try to use star-students like Sunny and Radagast the Brown to encourage the rest of the class without intimidating them. However, it's become clear that some student's are way behind the rest, which creates a conundrum which I am sure many teachers have faced: how do you create a learning environment for every type of student without shortchanging some?

Well, that was stupid.

So long story short, a tragedy brought me back to NC for about two weeks. A lot occurred during that homecoming, most of which is simply too sensitive to talk about right here. However, one spectacular instance of misfortune is simply too ridiculously stupid not to complain about.

So here goes-- during this time circumstances left me de facto in charge of the Youngblood Family Farm. One day I made the boneheaded move of agreeing to move our great tax deductions, aka the cattle, to a low-lying field next to the river which we endearingly call "the bottoms." Unfortunately neither I nor my reliable help, Bobby and Harris, anticipated the amount of rain we would be getting over the next few days and on Sunday night it rained so much that the river crested and turned "the bottoms" into a new pretty lake.

Thus that morning we discovered the cattle trapped in about 3-4 feet of water. Ok, we made a mistake (#1 of 2), but we were confident we could get them out, we just weren't sure how. We called them, but the stubborn bovines wouldn't move, even though it was perfectly calm, allowing them to wade through it. I''d also like to add that these wusses were the same polled herefords that had, only 2 days earlier, happily rushed into a pond while we were moving them down there in the first place.

But no, we had to go and get them. Now, we didn't want to just wade out there, so another friend brought a boat. But here's where more stupidity ensues. Some tractor repair guys (don't ask me how they came to be there) suggested we ride one of the John Deere tractors out to them. I agreed, even though 4 people could have probably fit on the boat. So I went and got the tractor, which turned out to be tragically undersized (though it was one of our biggest)

I drove the tractor into Bottoms Lake, with the repair guys riding on the back, taking care to not get stuck in the ditches (ironically meant to drain the fields when it rains). We got within about ten meters of the herd, when boom, we hit a sudden deep spot and the engine, now partly submerged, stalled.

So we ended up swimming anyway.

We got them out, but by that point the cattle were the smaller problem--the water was getting rising and soon the tractor would become a freshwater coral reef. The repair guys, feeling just a bit guilty I think, offered the best solution: go get a bigger tractor.



Fortunately, they had one (I'm sure they'd planned this all along). Within a half-hour, they had brought a massive, thrice-as-big Ford, rather dubiously named "Deere Slayer." It took them about 15 minutes to rescue the JD.

Sighhhh....leb wohl

Dispatches from the Quarantine Zone

I am reporting now from Ground Zero of the Changzhou Swine Flu Epidemic. Sources tell me that 16 students have confirmed cases of H1N1 and that 300 more are being kept in isolation.
Classes have been canceled until next week. For comparison around 100 cases have been reported at Wake Forest University and classes are continuing as usual...Ok, so the Chinese may be a little more paranoid about the flu. Either that or my alma mater's response to a pandemic is about as slow and plodding as their offensive game in football.

I wouldn't exactly call the Chinese reaction to the H1N1 outbreak hyperbolic. There are naturally contributing factors unique to China that lead to a heightened awareness when it comes to disease. First, the student's live in rather squalid 8-person dorm rooms. Second, sanitation tends to be more of a luxury around here.

And this is China--anything disruptive, be it intellectual or biological, is viewed as a potential seed of mass dissent. But I'll admit, when it comes to my health and the health of those around me, I don't mind the extra security. Still, when the authorities go beyond reasonable caution they run the risk of breeding the paranoia and fear they hoped to avoid.

And the fear is certainly there. My students (for the brief time I've had with them) asked me several times if I was afraid of H1N1. I've simply shrugged and downplayed the hysteria as best I could. However, after hearing about the conditions some students are facing in the quarantine location, I've grown a tad more apprehensive. If I caught it they probably wouldn't just let me "chill" in my penthouse apartment for a week.


Leb Wohl (und Gesundheit)

Back in the Orient

I'm back in China. It hasn't really changed much over the past two months (aside from blocking more websites). Of course I'm at a new school, which means I have new people and places to acquaint myself with AND it means the locals aren't used to me and will stare for the next few weeks. Other than that Changzhou (henceforth called the Cz) isn't that much different from the Jx. Just another relatively unremarkable prefecture-level city. But there is a pretty tall Pagoda in this one. And an H&M.

One interesting feature of my new apartment is that it overlooks (being on the 14th floor) a vast sprawling landscape of apartment blocks and the skeletons of future apartment blocks. Oh, and a Honda dealership. So basically I get a front-row seat to China's impossibly rapid development. In fact, my side of Changzhou is littered with the ruins of half-demolished buildings soon to be replaced by concrete monoliths of progress.

For a low-tier school, Jiangsu Teacher University of Tech. is itself quite impressive. The buildings are quintessentially Chinese--futuristic, but with every angle conformed to the harmony of socialist feng shui. The new library they're building is quite daunting--more like a modernist palace for party higher-ups than a place for reading books (even if said books are are about Marxist-Leninism).

I have already been accosted several times by students and teachers eager to practice English. One of these days I'm going to be cruel and respond in German (then again, my beloved Fremdsprache just so happens to be the second most-popular foreign language at this school) The competitiveness amongst the English majors here is staggering; Yesterday, a very nice junior named Jason was giving me a tour of the campus, when suddenly a senior with naturally better English butted in trying to steal my attention. I felt bad for Jason, and did my best to stear the conversation back to him. Another instance: Today someone at McDonald's (yeah, I ate there, what of it?) sat down at my table, asking me my preference between Amway and Herbalife--apparently he aspires to work for a direct-sales company and needs career advice. Being far from the strangest question I have ever been asked, I simply broke out the ever-handy "Wo bu zhidao." It did not stop there. Later he texted me about three more--Avon, Nuskin, and Mary Kay.

I told him I preferred Mary Kay--I have connections.

Leb Wohl

On the Home Front

Okay, so I'm not in China now, but I soon will be, and so I figured that I could go ahead and start writing again.  Either way a summary of the past seven weeks in Hendersonville seems in order.  But it's late and I'm tired to let me just give you the abstract: Family=Madness.  Ok now we can move on to more important China-related topics, like Facebook being banned there.  The life-blood of Generation...er...Y has been plugged by the Dragon.

Finnnaaallllly! 

I mean, you'd have thought they'd never get around to censoring something that should be censored. YouTube?  Come on!  You call yourself a socialist government and yet you block the greatest proletarian revolution in media?  Blogspot?  Blogs are just diaries that you want people to read.  Nobody really cares about them.  But Facebook may be the single most harmful thing on the internet right now.  Not only does it make it easier for people to tell you everything you never wanted to know about them, it also allows employers, enemies, ex-girlfriends, and the US Government to find out things about you that normally they would have to pay for.  And this says nothing about the complete alienation paradox this whole internet-networking thing creates.  We can know everything about someone while never actually conversing--you know, that talking thing where you ask meaningful questions and get sincere responses?

Ok, I promise I'm done ranting for the mom--HOW IN HEAVEN'S NAME CAN SOMEONE CALL THEMSELVES CHRISTIAN AND YET OPPOSE UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE?!?!

Sorry, I don't know where that came from...probably best to just end it there.

Leb Wohl.

Fast Times in Jiaxing

Before I move to my planned topic, can I just say what's happening in Iran right now is both amazing and tragic?  Because it is.  Anyway, over the past few weeks I have determined that Chinese college students can, and often do, have exactly the same kind of fun American college students have way too much of.

Allow me to put this into perspective.  Chinese students live by the exam.  Tests are a major determinate of ones place in this society.  Their test scores are the biggest part of their grade (though not in MY classes) and their grades determine which schools they go to, which determines what kind of jobs they will be given  (For the other great determinate "guanxi"please await future posts).

Anyway, this is the time of year in which high schoolers have taken their college entrance exams, subsequently entering a depressive funk or...and here's where the fun comes in... celebrating!  Usually through travel or karaoke (In fact I ran into several of the former traveling in Leshan, Sichuan--I assume at least one of them had gotten good news).  Fun is a result of success, it is reward, unlike in the West where partying can usually happen on a whim.  

Though not usually under  quite as much pressure as high schoolers, Chinese college students are also very celebratory, something I witnessed first hand.  Two of my classes invited me out for after-term dinners.  It was the usual affair with circular tables and those little wheels in the middle upon which the various dishes are rotated.  Supposedly the occasions were in my honor, by I suspected that these dinners were a end-of-term tradition for every class unit, which tend to be very tightly-knit

The breakdown of fun is as follows:

It begins with dinner, which already tends to be a little wild.  Then comes the beer, which is consumed first via toasts, then more casually without the formality, and then in competitive shots (Please note that binge-drinking does not occur, at least it hasn't around me)

Sometimes it ends there, or sometimes the fun moves to KTV, the staple institution of Chinese karaoke culture.  The drinking stopped for us when we got there, and instead we sobered up with flavored drink.  Unfortunately this meant everyone was sober when I sang, and so they found out how bad I am at karaoke (but not singing in general--that I'm great at).  

While  some people sang somewhat-generic Chinese pop (or Backstreet Boys) the rest played this clever card game where the losers had to perform dares with one another.  The typical Chinese dare usual involves a romantic theme.  Consequently several proposals of marriage were made, one of which was from me.

Leb Wohl

Separation Anxiety

Classes are over. Exams are finished and grades completed.  Already I miss my students.  The 16 weeks we spent together was far too short.  

Exams were surprisingly good.  Once again I was amazed by their creativity.  We took class pictures and afterwards all of them wanted individual shots with there cameras.  Some of them cried...no they didn't, that was me.

Right now is the stage were I reminisce about our classes.  The fun and awkwardness.  The successes and epic fails.  There is so much I could've done better as a teacher, but hopefully they still learned something.  Well, according to the grades all but a few did.  No really, thanks to my bad marking system my students have gotten obscenely high grades.  Of course that hasn't stopped a few texting me to complain about 90s.  But I can't blame them for being perfectionists.  After all, I aspire (foolishly) to be one myself.

Enlightenment and Extortion on Putuoshan

One of the reasons I came to China was to experience a little bit of the religion. This was somewhat of a dubious goal since religion has more or less been marginalized since the Cultural Revolution. As, one of my Chinese friends told me "superstition," rather than the organized religion communist governments tends to oppose, is the opiate of the masses. This could range from typical burial rites on a family plot to various auspicious acts one can do (though certainly not required) to appease various deities providing such services as dream-free sleep, babies, or fortune.

Buddhism, a bastion of religious and philosophical thought, was once mighty in this country, easily fitting in with the two other giants, Daoism and Confucianism. But I would not describe China or many of her people Buddhist (exept Tibetans of course). To put this into perspective I recently went to one of the four "sacred" Buddhist mountains in China--an island of the coast of Zhejiang called Putuoshan. The island is devoted to Guanyin, a Buddhist goddess of mercy. There is an immense statue of her greeting the new arrivals who come on the ferry from Ningbo (which is the only way to get to the island). After paying a steep price for admission to the national park, you enter the land of tour groups and souveniers. Like so much in China, Putuo mountain is a tourist trap and without hostels or simple hole-in-the wall restaurants, it is a considerably expensive one.

But though its original identity has been obscured by commercialism, the island is still Buddhist. There are many monks. In fact I talked with one name Shi quite a bit (with some comprehension). The island and beaches are beautiful, and the temples are impressive and sacred-feeling. And most of the "tourists,"whether they are legitimitely Buddhist or just the superstious kind pay their respects by lighting their incense-burining sticks, bowing in all four directions, kneeling before the statues, and leaving an offering.

So there is a peace to Putuoshan. Yes, the same secularism and commercialism typical of China is evident, but it is still a holy place. Though I am not Buddhist I even felt compelled to bow now and again. My visit gave me renewed hope about finding more of the "spiritual China."

Leb wohl.

The Chinese Box and Going Outside of It

The Chinese education system does not emphasize creativity.  Maybe it's the collective nature of the culture or the post-revolution ideology, but thinking outside of the box is something that is simply not expected.  Students simply sit and listen (or don't) while the professor lectures.  The chief means employed to measure their understand are exams.  At the beginning of the semester I explained how how I expected them to debate and discuss ideas--a lecture class with a mix of the Socratic seminar.  Oh how young and foolish I was then!

This doesn't mean my students aren't creative.  Far from it in fact.  They're just not used to a teacher caring so much about what they think.  In fact, they've come up with some pretty radical, and in some instances, highly-unorthodox ideas.  For instance, I recently had them play a game in which they transformed five random objects (a coat hanger, a book, a watch, a remote control, and a spare table leg that just happened to be in my room) into some new product with a completely different function.  Some responses were typical; The coat hanger became a bow/arrow, the remote was reprogrammed to control human action, and the watch hypnotized people.  But some were also pretty inspired: Not only was my watch a necklace, but it was a necklace that helped you lose weight! (The group did not, however, give an adequate explanation of the science behind it)  And it was quite amusing to see Thomas Hardy's Return of the Native become an instrument to fix a shaky desk (and a brick for hitting muggers with).

This however does not, does not even compare to one other moment of possible brilliance.  Our final "unit" has been "acting" or the closest possible equivalent and in one scene I had bargaining for various objects in a shop.  My student "Motumbo" (don't ask), either not content with the naturalism of the previous performances or just trying to get out of a speaking role, decided to portray a singing tree.  Whatever the motive it was a refreshing bit of creativity. Knowing that these kids are radical enough to personify vegetation is a great comfort.

Leb Wohl

Die Great Firewall, Die

Take that Great Firewall! I just pwned you! That is what it feels like to be served up a can of you-know-what. God bless the proxy servers and their freedom-promoting ways! I cannot tell you how upset I was when China started blocking BLOGS of all things. And seriously, who cares what some nut says on their blog? What's next, Twitter? (Oh please, please block Twitter!)

Great Firewall, you lose. That's all I have to say tonight.

Oh and Leb Wohl.

Near-Death by Hong Kong

This last weekend I went to Hong Kong with my traveling buddies, Amy and Adrienne.  On this trip I suffered: exhaustion, sunburn (and probably sun poisoning), intoxication, foot cramps, and an empty wallet.  Oh, and I lost my Wake hat.  

The verdict: Totally worth it.

Then again, I'm such a nerd, just seeing the IFC buildings from The Dark Knight made it worthwhile (see picture; FYI, Batman jumped and glided from the taller building to the smaller one.)  That's not to mention the wonderful view from Victoria peak and refreshingly laid-back social scene.  Just the outstanding bars in Soho and Lan Kwai Fong alone make it an expat's paradise.

Of course Hong Kong is a very western city and not really part of China proper.  And because of the huge number of Europeans and Americans I dwindled back to "slightly less than average" height.  Still it was nice not to be stared at for an entire weekend.

Leb Wohl

Jiaxing--Don't Drink the Water

I'm a bad journalist. 8th post in 3 months? Yeah, I suck. Anyway, I gave my students their midterms last week. They did debates on environmentalism vs. economic progress. Yes, a loaded issue I know, but it gave me an excuse to show them WALL-E (which half of them had already seen). Man, I love that movie. Well, I loved that movie, but after having seen it 8 times broken into 45 minute installments, it begins to lose its luster.

But like I said they had debates. Some were good, some were "meh." They were more speeches than debates, but what can you do? Also, the arguments tended to repeat. For the pro-environment side it was always "the environment is the basis of everything" and for the opposition it was "how can you protect the environment without money?" Both positions tended to lead into the inevitable circular "chicken-and-egg" debates about "how can you have progress without the environmental resources?" and vice-versa. I did my best to keep things moving.

Still, some we're pretty energetic and every now and then, improvisation occurred! My favorite was when somehow the topic of dinosaurs came up--the quote was "how can you talk about economic progress with the dinosaurs?" I'm still not sure which side brought it up. I love some of these kids. Another good speech came from one student on the pro-environment side. He brought up how bad pollution was in China, especially here in the JX. It killed when he talked about how prettier the people would be with less pollution. He's got his priorities straight.

Leb Wohl

Church in China

Today I got to go to church for the first time in about three months.  I didn't think there would be one in a smaller city like Jiaxing (aside from the vacant, dilapidated French Cathedral), but apparently there are at least three "underground" churches.  One of my fellow teachers got me in touch with a girl named Jessie, who took me downtown to her parrish.  I felt slightly rebellious; It's ironic that a southern-boy would feel that way going to church.  Religion's making its way back to China I think, but it's still not exactly encouraged.  I remember reading somewhere that missionaries who went to China were not allowed to proselytize or "evangelize."  Then again, in a world with Pat Robertson that's pretty sensible.  And besides, the last time I proselytized anything it wasn't religion, but the shot-glasses my Frat made all the pledges sell that Fall.  All I really wanted to do was experience a Chinese church and maybe, just maybe, get an extra boost of that vague, esoteric spiritualism which I need now and then.

I honestly first thought that I had walked into a book club.  There were Christian books on three cases, and the top shelf of one was dedicated to a hero of mine: Dietrich Bonhoeffer--obviously the "theologian-of-the-month."  What I thought was the actual church actually turned out to just be the reception/reading area (hereafter to be called the "narthex").  After a few hellos we went up the narrow staircase to the "sanctuary," were there were many more people. We sat down in school desks piled with liturgical and hymnic texts of some vague, Protestant nature which were of course in Mandarin.  Fortunately Jessie had an English-Chinese Bible on hand.  Gradually the sanctuary filled up with about 25 or so people.

The service was over an hour long, and involved a lot of singing.  Though I had heard some of the music before, I didn't recognize any of the hymns and couldn't really sing along (though I could have sworn I heard my university's alma mater in there somewhere).  Fortunately the Chinese for "Jesus" was easy to pick out because it is almost phonetically identical to the English pronuciation.  Also I could pick out a "we" here and there as well as the omnipotent "He," "His," and "Him."

There were two preachers (lay I believe) who delivered the liturgy and the sermon, and except for the Apostles Creed, most everything was unintelligible.  However, most of the sermon was spent referencing various NT verses (and a few OT messianic references) which I could simultaneously read in translation.  Despite this I couldn't figure out what the overarching theme connecting them was.  Suffering maybe.

The service ended with a long, but impassioned prayer from an older women, who unexpectedly became incredibly emotional toward the end.  In fact despite the language barrier, I could feel a great deal of spiritualism coming from the entire congregation--a spiritualism which has had very little chance for expression.  

At the end, sipping on hot water in the narthex, I met a few more of the churchgoers.  The usual questions abounded ("From where?" "Teach where?" etc.) and I was invited to come back and teach the children a Bible lesson in English.  I'm probably the wrong person to turn to for a Bible lesson, and the Church itself is probably on some watch list, but I'd be glad to come back.  After all, it's not "evangelizing" if they're already Christian, right?  Right?  

Leb wohl.

I Get Asked About the Dollar Bill

I was minding my own business today, coming through main campus gate after having picked up my brunch, when the most random thing (so far) happened.  One of the security guards called me over to the booth.  I was shown a $1 bill, one of many that were sitting in front of the two busy officers.  He kindly asked me (as kind as naturally-brusque Mandarin can sound) who it was on the banknote.  I explained that it was George Washington, and not Abraham Lincoln--who one of them had obviously thought it was.  I then pointed to their collection of fives and told them that was old honest Abe.

Having cleared that up I left.  For some reason it never occurred to me to ask them why they had the money in the first place.  Probably best left a mystery.

The Road to Lake Tai

It's week 8, which means the semester is almost halfway over.  Now there is a scary thought.  I finish up my eight-week class tomorrow with an oral exam.  They're "interviewing" each other for one of six different jobs.  It could be an epic failure, but it should be at least amusing. On a side note, somehow half of my Thursday @ 3:30 class managed to forget their textbooks last week (on one of the few days we were actually using them)--either more evidence of the "collective" culture of China or just my students screwing with me.

This past weekend I visited Suzhou with my usual cohorts, Adrienne and Amy.  Since it was the Qingming holidays, it was a 3-day weekend and we made full use of it.  Saturday was gray and rainy, so we stuck to downtown area, checking out the various gardens for which the city is famous.  We also got to hear some lovely, if unintelligible, operatic storytelling in a cozy little music hall amongst the city's most prominent septagenarians.  The evening was capped-off with several margheritas in what could only have been the former cocktail bar of the Queen Elizabeth II. 

The real highlight of our trip was the day-long journey to Lake Tai.  It turns out that Suzhou is not the city most people go to in order to visit this pond (see "Wuxi") and it was actually quite an effort to get there.  After spending 2 hours trying to get on the right bus line, we found ourselves in the scenic town of Wudu, where I decided to pull out the map that by some miracle I had managed not to forget.  After finding the proper bus route, and tracing it with my fingers to make sure it did indeed go to das Meer, we set out to find and get on the previously-elusive "502" line.

However, when we did find the stop, it was not the proper 502 that we boarded, but a much smaller jalopy unaffiliated with Suzhou transportation or any of the other "regulatory commissions" which at least guarantee you are not being extorted by the Triad.  The shuttle was commanded by a peremptory little woman who barked out our destination ("Dongshan") to everyone at every bus stop we passed.  Needless to say it took a while to get there.

After about an hour we arrived at the Dongshan city center, still out of sight of the cool, blue waters we had traveled 3 hours to see.  We were immediately assaulted by the local tourist hustlers, whom normally we would awkwardly ignore, but because we were so desperate to see the damned lake, we gave in to one.  And that's how we came to be riding in an upscale golf cart around the tip of the peninsula.

Our chauffeur, whom I endearingly named "Chuck," wanted 100 yuan for his services, and to be frank, I think he was worth every jiao.  Our first stop was an ancient little village where residents had opened up their centuries-old homes as museums.  It was by far the most authenticity I had seen since coming to China.  And by "authenticity" I mean not rebuilt two dozen times.  As we traveled the narrow streets Chuck followed us around, usually taking a nap at the entrances of each "exhibit."  Even if he disappeared he somehow always found us again. Then again, we are white.

After getting our money's worth, we hopped back in the buggy and proceeded to the Zijin Nunnery, a Buddhist temple famous for something or another.  It proved a bit anticlimactic after "Museumville."  After whacking the temple's bell several times for our own amusement (and profile pictures), we rejoined Chuck.

After a series of heated miscommunications regarding the local tea leaf and purchase thereof, we finally made it back to where we started.  Chuck almost left us with one of the menacing black unlicensed cabs, but we avoided a possible scam and got to the bus stop.  After saying goodbye to our friendly guide, we hopped on a bus that could have been worse and were on our way back to Suzhou.

And then we did other touristy things that I'm too tired to talk about.  Leb Wohl! 

I Introduce Basil Fawlty to My Students. Madness Ensues.

It seemed like a brilliant idea.  What better way to improve my students' comprehension than show them an episode of Fawlty Towers, the greatest sitcom ever made?  Okay, I admit there are much better ways, but I thought it would be so much fun to introduce them to the neurotic antics of Basil Fawlty, the world's rudest, most paranoid hotel owner, and also his nagging wife and inept Spanish waiter.  After all, not only could I enjoy a show that I loved for the 143rd time, I could also sit, back, relax and let John Cleese and his madness do all of the work for 30 minutes.

Physical humor is universal, and Towers is wonderfully slapstick.  I chose the most violent pick of the litter,  Ep. 4: "The Hotel Inspectors," but it got mixed reviews.  They seemed to understand the general plot--Basil trying to figure out who the hotel inspectors were so he could be especially nice to them (as opposed to his usual brusque behavior)--and they enjoyed the constant physical abuse inflicted upon Manuel.  Yet so much of the humor lies in the dense, circumlocutious British banter, most of which obviously escaped their grasp.

Because "Inspectors" relied too much on such dialogue (and also because I was tired of watching it), I switched to "The Kipper and the Corpse," my personal favorite.  There is plenty of action, and most of the dialogue, though still advanced for their level, is delivered much more slowly and clearly.  As expected it got a much better overall response.  They laughed quite a bit watching Basil and Manuel carry a dead guest all over the hotel, all the while trying to keep him hidden from the other residents.  Some of my brightest students even got a few of the morbid jokes (i.e. "Two dead.  Twenty-five to go").   I initially had reservations about this episode because of a short scene where they burst in on a man blowing up a sex doll (the maturity level here is lower than the collegiate norm).  Of course when they did see it all of the guys would crack up.  I guess some traits are universal.

Now that they've gotten to know the characters, I will have to show them another episode later in the semester.  It will come in handy if I get "teachers-block" again.  

Leb Wohl!

D-Day +48 (and Some Reflections on Teaching)

I've been in "the JX" for one and a half months now, and I'm just now starting to get used to it.  Maybe that's because I've spent the last two weekends traveling to other places (Nanjing and Hangzhou) or maybe that's because Jiaxing is just that mind-boggling.  There are parts to hate, parts to love, parts that are lovely, and parts that are just down right ugly.  Thanks to my fellow teachers and a few kind students I have discovered wonderful parks and a few great places to eat (Sichuan cuisine is my nectar and ambrosia).  Naturally after just getting into the swing of things, it has suddenly dawned on me that I need to find something else to do next year.  *Sigh.* It never fails.  Maybe I'll just stay here.

As for teaching...well...some of my students are great, like my Wednesday afternoon class, and some just don't care (and thus sleep).  As for the best ones, they are always quite eager to learn--actually, let me rephrase that--they are quite eager to play games, such as "Review Jeopardy" and my own heavily-modified version of "The Dating Game" (don't ask).  Chinese students can be quite competitive and we've had some pretty exciting contests.  Though still quite shy, they are always quite willing to volunteer their classmates to participate (Ah!  The glories of peer pressure!). 

Start talking about writing resumes, though, and almost all of my students, even my star pupils, lose interest quite quickly.  This is too bad, because there is a great deal that they have yet to learn about the "real world."  My students are mostly International Trade majors, and while it's obvious that many of them were shoehorned into that field by the administration and really don't care, they ought to know what kinds of jobs to be looking for and how to apply for them.  I mean we can't all be nepotists working at Dad's oil company after graduation, can we?

Oh and another problem.  They cheat.  A lot.  Okay, to be fair we always had dictionaries in German class, but their damned cell phones can do much, much more than that.  Those things translate idioms, almost perfectly.  I haven't any solid proof but what else can explain how each of my classes came up with the same exact meaning of "bending over backwards"  (a nearly-correct "to do one's best")?  Then again, if I made them put these lifelines away their response rate would go wayyyyy down.

So I do worry about my students.  Some of them have what it takes to be international businesspersons, but most clearly aren't getting the guidance they need and are simply coasting through this thing called "college" via they easiest route, blissfully unaware of what comes next.  Hopefully they'll snap out of this carefree revelry by senior year.  Otherwise they'll end up teaching their mother tongue in a foreign country.

Leb Wohl  

A Guide to (Not) Blending In Abroad

With a little skill any person can hide him or herself amongst the throngs in Europe.  There it's just a matter of losing that arrogant swagger, reverting your fashion sense to 1998 (both earth-tones and gothic themes acceptable), and trying to look even more awkward whenever you dance at the "Discos."  Of course the game's up when a word (or, if you're bilingual enough, a sentence) comes out of your mouth, but at least there are ways you can maintain a low-profile whilst doing whatever the hell you went abroad to do.  Europe's diversity, at least in most big cities, allows this.

But China is a different situation entirely if you don't look the least bit Asian (like yours truly).  Here a Westerner on the sidewalk is less common site which results in countless double-takes, stares, and sometimes even condescension.  You'll hear the words lawai (foreigner) about every block or so, and occasionally someone, usually a young guy, will say "hello"--the most trite and common preamble of small-talk ever created.  Now, the stares I can understand--within Chinese culture it is not necessarily impolite to do so--but  "hello?"  Is that seriously the best you can do?  Yes, just go ahead and assume every white guy speaks English (though "hello" as pretty universal) and that I haven't already been asked that same damn question by five hundred other smart-asses that very day.  Is a "how are you?" every so often just too much to ask for?

Okay, enough venting.  The bottom line is that there is no way to get around the fact that if you do not look Chinese and cannot afford any expensive plastic surgery you will always be a foreigner in China.  In fact, you must accept that you are American.  I mean it!  Europeans, Canadians, and Kenyans--guess what!  You're all Americans until you've spent three hours explaining to them why you are not. Oh, and what's more, you get to be associated with whatever famous person from a movie or TV show you look the most like.  Me, I'm that Scofield guy from Prison Break.  Apparently they are not familiar with Justin Timberlake or Brad Pitt.

Of course, there are ways you can cheat the system.  I've been here about a month, but I've learned a few tricks of the trade, so if you dislike all of the attention, or just need a little break, I've got a few tips:

1.  Cover up any non-Asian feature.  This last weekend I traveled in Nanjing with two dark- haired companions and I wore a hat.  As a result, the Taxis actually got within about twenty meters before they realized we were probably too much trouble and drove away.

2.  Travel under the cover of darkness.  Yes, just like Batman...or a possum.

3.  Studies show people are less apt to notice that they are being stared at if they are drunk.  Consider drinking more often.

4.  The key to any good magic trick is misdirection, so travel with someone who looks more foreign than you.  If you get stuck point at them shouting "lawai."  That should buy you about ten seconds to escape.

Those are just some of the possibilities, but personally I've found it to be more fun just to embrace my unavoidable ostentatiousness.  Sure, I'm an exhibit, but to be fair everyone checks everyone out, no matter what part of the world you are in.  It's just that westerners tend to be very covert through casual glances while many Chinese are just very blunt, which can be a good thing.  Plus, by cultivating my "foreigness" I keep my students interested, at least until that whole mystique wears off (which it is already starting to do).  I suppose I'll need some new strategies and incentives for inciting curiosity before they become too jaded.  Maybe candy.

Anyway, leb wohl!

The First Musings of a Amateur Futurist

Hello all!  If you are reading this I welcome you to my first blog on this new site.  It felt appropriate to start fresh given my new situation.  As some of you may know I am now in the wonderful People's Republic of China, a large, vibrant, and incredibly populous country.  I was given an ESL teaching position at Jiaxing College in Jiaxing City, about 60 miles outside of Shanghai.  Jiaxing is an insignificant town by Chinese standards (no guidebook mentions it), but still about as big as Charlotte, and with many, many more people.  Suffice it to say that I am living and working in what could be called "typical China": big, urbanized, and incredibly daunting for a westerner from that paragon of occidental irrelevance known as Hendersonville, NC.

My third (successful) time abroad, though not a piece of cake, has certainly proven to be a more relaxed experience.  Homesickness is a non-factor, and compared to Europe, money isn't nearly as much of a problem (the price of living here is very cheap).  Better still is this new sense of purpose that I am suddenly feeling.  In Jiaxing I am not just studying--spending long hours trying to master a language nobody really needs to learn (no matter how grand a Sprache it is).  No, instead I am filling an important niche by teaching college students oral English.  I admit that I am not a well-qualified grammarian and, to be frank, I don't believe I speak all that well to begin with.  Still, many here are so eager to learn from a native-speaker that you can't help but feel appreciated.  Not to mention that this is certainly one of the most helpful things I think I have ever done (though by taking pride in said benevolence, I am probably negating any karmic merit...rats!).  Sure, some don't care that much about learning English.  In fact, one thing I've been told is that Chinese students never work as hard in college as they do in high school.  Fortunately I've found that I'm not half-bad at this thing called "teaching," and even the most indifferent student can't help but stare in wonder at a goofy "lawei" attempting to explain synonyms.

Oh, and I'm also trying to improve my painfully rudimentary Mandarin while I'm here.  I have the feeling that in twenty or so years Chinese is going to be the most important language on the planet (outside of English).  Don't quote me on that, but it's my feeling.  Now try to understand that this place isn't Europe were every other four-year-old has already read and critiqued Wuthering Heights.  No, no.  Here English is a lingua franca that is only just beginning to catch on amongst the literati and is consequently in very high demand.  Now you can imagine the benefits of being both fluent in English and equipped with a good grasp of Mandarin.  Well, I suppose we'll just have to see how that pans out.  First I've got to study the damned language.

That's enough for today.  I don't want to bore what few readers I get.  I'll be back in a week.  

Leb wohl!