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!