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!