Nick, Alex and I were introduced to our first Taigu dance party at Ben and Beth’s place last night. It was super fun. We listened to dance party music from a decade ago (some of which I hadn’t heard in maybe 5 years) and many of us danced our hearts out. The Chinese students who came were mostly graduate student friends of Beth and Ben and Morgan and Mike from the previous years. There were also some undergraduate English majors from some of their classes. Most of them were much more shy, and many left soon after they came and introduced themselves, but some had no inhibitions about dancing and stayed for the entire party. They were all super friendly and excited to meet us new foreign teachers. Although it was clear that these students weren’t necessarily joining us to practice English. I wore my sparkly blue sequined party hat, which all the students told me in English was “cute.” That was a new one for that crazy hat.
The experience reminded me how much I enjoy dancing with Chinese college students. American college students have too much sexy dancing. Chinese College students get their crazy-fun on. It was fantastic. We jumped and flailed around to everything from Madonna to Michael Jackson to Britney Spears to some Chinese pop star I’ve never heard of. Absolutely lovely.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Sports and socializing
So turns out a big way to socialize on this campus is sports.
Maggie and Peter were sweet enough to take me to play badminton and tolerate my horrible skills and be patient enough to teach me how you really are supposed to hit the birdie. It was super fun. They thought it was funny that I laughed each time I messed up. Oh yes, I get the comments all the time here, just like in America: wow, she really laughs a lot. What can I say, it’s one of my trademarks in English or Chinese (or any other language I might attempt).
Swimming is also another way to meet people. Ben goes swimming consistently because a lot of his guy friends go all the time. It’s pretty entertaining. At first it was a little terrifying because I am pretty horrible at swimming. And by horrible I mean I know how to swim, but can’t get anywhere fast, and always feel like I’m drowning when doing freestyle. And then I discovered that the Chinese version of swimming is socializing with a few laps in between. You swim a couple laps and then talk for 10 minutes and then swim a couple more and talk some more...It’s pretty fun. Plus, right now in the pool there are lots of children because school hasn’t started. They are very curious about us and once they figure out that we speak Chinese (although they have more trouble understanding our strange accent than most of our college age friens) have a blast playing with us and following us around. The other day Beth and I made friends with a bright little 10 year old girl who insisted on following us back and forth down the lanes and even escorted us back to the showerroom when we were done. She told us we were the first foreigners she had ever met. I always forget that we are so uncommon in Taigu.
Teller tried to teach me how to do freestyle correctly. Now I don’t feel like I’m drowning, but I go about ¾ of the length of the Olympic sized swimming pool and am too out of breath to keep it up. Breaststroke is my savior.
The shower room was another thing of terror initially. Here I was, already stared at with clothes on, and I was pretty terrified to take them off in front of Chinese women. For better or for worse though, I guess I look surprisingly like a Chinese woman naked if they can’t see my eyes. I heard a couple arguments between people about whether I was foreigner or not. (It is really entertaining here the amount of discussion about you that goes on right in front of your face.) The usual conclusion was foreigner as soon as I looked over at them.
I keep up my running occasionally, but running is difficult because the air gets pretty bad pretty quick after the morning. Also, it is not a thing to do when I am feeling shy--I get stared at incessantly wherever I run. In spite of the fact that they have two tracks here, no body seems to run but me.
Maggie and Peter were sweet enough to take me to play badminton and tolerate my horrible skills and be patient enough to teach me how you really are supposed to hit the birdie. It was super fun. They thought it was funny that I laughed each time I messed up. Oh yes, I get the comments all the time here, just like in America: wow, she really laughs a lot. What can I say, it’s one of my trademarks in English or Chinese (or any other language I might attempt).
Swimming is also another way to meet people. Ben goes swimming consistently because a lot of his guy friends go all the time. It’s pretty entertaining. At first it was a little terrifying because I am pretty horrible at swimming. And by horrible I mean I know how to swim, but can’t get anywhere fast, and always feel like I’m drowning when doing freestyle. And then I discovered that the Chinese version of swimming is socializing with a few laps in between. You swim a couple laps and then talk for 10 minutes and then swim a couple more and talk some more...It’s pretty fun. Plus, right now in the pool there are lots of children because school hasn’t started. They are very curious about us and once they figure out that we speak Chinese (although they have more trouble understanding our strange accent than most of our college age friens) have a blast playing with us and following us around. The other day Beth and I made friends with a bright little 10 year old girl who insisted on following us back and forth down the lanes and even escorted us back to the showerroom when we were done. She told us we were the first foreigners she had ever met. I always forget that we are so uncommon in Taigu.
Teller tried to teach me how to do freestyle correctly. Now I don’t feel like I’m drowning, but I go about ¾ of the length of the Olympic sized swimming pool and am too out of breath to keep it up. Breaststroke is my savior.
The shower room was another thing of terror initially. Here I was, already stared at with clothes on, and I was pretty terrified to take them off in front of Chinese women. For better or for worse though, I guess I look surprisingly like a Chinese woman naked if they can’t see my eyes. I heard a couple arguments between people about whether I was foreigner or not. (It is really entertaining here the amount of discussion about you that goes on right in front of your face.) The usual conclusion was foreigner as soon as I looked over at them.
I keep up my running occasionally, but running is difficult because the air gets pretty bad pretty quick after the morning. Also, it is not a thing to do when I am feeling shy--I get stared at incessantly wherever I run. In spite of the fact that they have two tracks here, no body seems to run but me.
Desperate to make music
What have I been doing in this crazy place? Well, it was really quiet until about 3 or 4 days ago when all the students started coming back so I tended to hang out and sometimes go into Taigu to check it out. It has been only a week and I already bought 2 instruments. I went to an er hu store as soon as I found out from Ben where it was in Taigu. It was a sweet little shop in one of the allyways lined with little stores selling just about anything you could want. They took me into the back and put together a cheap er hu for me. It was awesome to watch the guys put it together. Their shop was full of pieces of er hu and another similar instrument that is special to Shanxi province. I sort of hoped I could maybe come back sometime and watch them assemble an er hu from scratch...but although they were nice and somewhat impressed with my Chinese (once they figured out I was a foreigner) it was really one of the other customers who took an interest in me and showed me how you really play it and helped me check out the instrument. But he wasn’t from the area, so he couldn’t give me lessons.
I went 2 days later to get a guitar cause I desperately needed to express myself in some sad song longing for California (and someone in particular) so I ran off thinking I could get into the city, buy a guitar and come back in an hour to meet some friends for lunch. I had been to the store before, but he said all the guitars were 500 yuan or more. That was more than I wanted to pay for something that I might not bring back to the states, so I left. But I was back cause I desperately needed a guitar, and the store owner seemed like a nice enough guy, so I figured at most I would pay 300 or 400 at most (that was all I put in my pocket) for a good guitar plus nice case. I figured if he wouldn’t lower it that much at least I wouldn’t have enough to pay and I could just leave. Turns out he was happy to see me back and said he had one that was nice and for 400, but he’d let me have it for cheaper. It had a nice little dent on the bottom too, to make it more affordable for me. But he of course reassured me that the most important part—the neck--would not break off, as it had for a cheap 100kuai guitar that he had in the back. Turned out though, that he didn’t have a guitar bag that fit the guitar so he gave it to me for 300. He asked if I was a student at Nong Da (as everyone seems to assume I am) and I said, no I teach English. Immediately, he was more interested. Do you teach outside of the university? He asked. Not yet, I said, I just got here. He explained that he had a son and would like some lessons for him. Possibility I said, but not right now. So he gave me his phone number, name (I told him I didn’t have one yet...not quite true, but at least I had not memorized it yet...) and we will see. Perhaps if I’d like some guitar lessons, I could trade with English lessons. We’ll see. As it is, it was a nice deal, cause not only have I been enjoying it, but every time people come to the house Nick and I live in, somebody picks up the guitar and starts fiddling with it. Great. That was exactly what I wanted.
I went 2 days later to get a guitar cause I desperately needed to express myself in some sad song longing for California (and someone in particular) so I ran off thinking I could get into the city, buy a guitar and come back in an hour to meet some friends for lunch. I had been to the store before, but he said all the guitars were 500 yuan or more. That was more than I wanted to pay for something that I might not bring back to the states, so I left. But I was back cause I desperately needed a guitar, and the store owner seemed like a nice enough guy, so I figured at most I would pay 300 or 400 at most (that was all I put in my pocket) for a good guitar plus nice case. I figured if he wouldn’t lower it that much at least I wouldn’t have enough to pay and I could just leave. Turns out he was happy to see me back and said he had one that was nice and for 400, but he’d let me have it for cheaper. It had a nice little dent on the bottom too, to make it more affordable for me. But he of course reassured me that the most important part—the neck--would not break off, as it had for a cheap 100kuai guitar that he had in the back. Turned out though, that he didn’t have a guitar bag that fit the guitar so he gave it to me for 300. He asked if I was a student at Nong Da (as everyone seems to assume I am) and I said, no I teach English. Immediately, he was more interested. Do you teach outside of the university? He asked. Not yet, I said, I just got here. He explained that he had a son and would like some lessons for him. Possibility I said, but not right now. So he gave me his phone number, name (I told him I didn’t have one yet...not quite true, but at least I had not memorized it yet...) and we will see. Perhaps if I’d like some guitar lessons, I could trade with English lessons. We’ll see. As it is, it was a nice deal, cause not only have I been enjoying it, but every time people come to the house Nick and I live in, somebody picks up the guitar and starts fiddling with it. Great. That was exactly what I wanted.
SO WHAT'S THE DEAL, YO?!
Here’s what my situation is as I know it thus far.
I’m at Shanxi Agricultural University (山西农业大学) otherwise known as NongDa to the people in the area. I am teaching English to two classes of Graduate students, one class of PhD students and one class of Undergraduate English Majors (the Graduate and PhD majors have various concentrations...but mostly related to agriculture). The Graduate and PhD classes meet 2 times a week for two hours, the English Major class meets once a week for two hours. (I'll admit that I'm a little terrified, especially of teaching the PhD classes, but super excited too.)
There are 5 of us foreign teachers: Ben Reitz, Beth Rogers, Nick Hatt, Alex Paik and I. (Full names for those of you who are/were Obies and know these characters.) Yes, we are all from Oberlin, and Ben, Beth, Nick and I are on the same 2 year commitment to the Shansi Fellowship. Alex came on his own so he will probably only stay for a year. Ben and Beth share a house and each have an individual apartment in it (as in there is a shared livingroom, but each has a separate bedroom/study, kitchen and bathroom). Nick and I have a simliar housing situation, and Alex, as of yet, has no housemate, but has a similar apartment in a house.
As for the classes themselves, well, we aren’t guided too much at all. Basically they tell us when and who we are going to teach and the rest is up to us. English is the goal. I assume oral English since that is our specialty, but who really knows. Luckily, both Beth and Ben were here last year so they have been preparing us and reassuring us that the students are super respectful and really nice. You have to work hard to make them not like you. (Apparently it has been done before though...although not by a Shansi Fellow.) We start class on Monday, September 1st. As in 2 days from now.
The school has a beautiful campus, full of trees, gardens, and lovely old buildings. It’s pretty unusual in China to have a big famous University in a small town (small in China is 40,000 people), and so NongDa is exceptional in many ways. The University was founded by a Chinese man (H.H. Kung) who grew up with some Oberlin Missionaries. He himself, after the Boxer Rebellion and the death of those Missionaries, later went to Oberlin College to study and then to Yale. He came back to China and became a wealthy businessman (well, he was already wealthy to begin with) and founded this school. He also invited Oberlin missionaries (through the Shansi Memorial Foundation—the same organization that sends us here now) to come back and teach at the school. During the Communist Revolution, the school was taken back by the government. In the early 80s, NongDa and Shansi started talking with each other again, and again Oberlin graduates, no longer religiously affiliated, were invited to come and teach there. (Some NongDa teachers also go to Oberlin to study and teach through Shansi.)
The town of Taigu is a typical, dusty, dry, small Shanxi Province town that holds lots of little secret spots of historical interest. It is full of dirty streets, lots of small shops and some lovely old (and mostly falling apart) buildings with courtyards, old carvings and all. It has no city wall remaining, the way that Pingyao, its famous, touristy nearby neighbor, has. But it does have some old stone streets, lovely old buildings, some old houses that used to belong to some wealthy merchants, a few temples nearby, the old drum tower and a-thousand-year-old pagoda downtown. Apparently, 100 years ago, Taigu was full of wealthy merchants (mostly bankers). Now, it seems to be full of pretty ordinary, perhaps relatively poor people.
Shanxi Province is known for its baijiu (a strong kind of alcohol), its noodles, its vinegar, and its coal mines and coal processing plants. The province is dry and in the mountains to the west and slightly south of Beijing. The weather, they say, is similar to Oberlin, but a lot dryer. The Province is relatively poor compared to its wealthier coastal neighbors, but there are a few absurdly rich people who own the mines and factories. We are lucky because the campus is so green and Taigu itself is not a coalmining city, but we get some nice pollution from the neighboring capital of Shanxi—Taiyuan. We are about an hour bus ride or train ride from Taiyuan, (which we only go to if we are crazing luxuries like cheese, pizza and good chocolate, because, though modern, is not a particularly beautiful city).
Basically, overall, I feel really lucky to be here. It will be an experience unlike what many foreigners would ever get to experience when traveling in China. It will be tough at times I know--I’ve already heard stories—but I also have heard that it is super hard to leave here after two years. So I'd better start enjoying it now.
I’m at Shanxi Agricultural University (山西农业大学) otherwise known as NongDa to the people in the area. I am teaching English to two classes of Graduate students, one class of PhD students and one class of Undergraduate English Majors (the Graduate and PhD majors have various concentrations...but mostly related to agriculture). The Graduate and PhD classes meet 2 times a week for two hours, the English Major class meets once a week for two hours. (I'll admit that I'm a little terrified, especially of teaching the PhD classes, but super excited too.)
There are 5 of us foreign teachers: Ben Reitz, Beth Rogers, Nick Hatt, Alex Paik and I. (Full names for those of you who are/were Obies and know these characters.) Yes, we are all from Oberlin, and Ben, Beth, Nick and I are on the same 2 year commitment to the Shansi Fellowship. Alex came on his own so he will probably only stay for a year. Ben and Beth share a house and each have an individual apartment in it (as in there is a shared livingroom, but each has a separate bedroom/study, kitchen and bathroom). Nick and I have a simliar housing situation, and Alex, as of yet, has no housemate, but has a similar apartment in a house.
As for the classes themselves, well, we aren’t guided too much at all. Basically they tell us when and who we are going to teach and the rest is up to us. English is the goal. I assume oral English since that is our specialty, but who really knows. Luckily, both Beth and Ben were here last year so they have been preparing us and reassuring us that the students are super respectful and really nice. You have to work hard to make them not like you. (Apparently it has been done before though...although not by a Shansi Fellow.) We start class on Monday, September 1st. As in 2 days from now.
The school has a beautiful campus, full of trees, gardens, and lovely old buildings. It’s pretty unusual in China to have a big famous University in a small town (small in China is 40,000 people), and so NongDa is exceptional in many ways. The University was founded by a Chinese man (H.H. Kung) who grew up with some Oberlin Missionaries. He himself, after the Boxer Rebellion and the death of those Missionaries, later went to Oberlin College to study and then to Yale. He came back to China and became a wealthy businessman (well, he was already wealthy to begin with) and founded this school. He also invited Oberlin missionaries (through the Shansi Memorial Foundation—the same organization that sends us here now) to come back and teach at the school. During the Communist Revolution, the school was taken back by the government. In the early 80s, NongDa and Shansi started talking with each other again, and again Oberlin graduates, no longer religiously affiliated, were invited to come and teach there. (Some NongDa teachers also go to Oberlin to study and teach through Shansi.)
The town of Taigu is a typical, dusty, dry, small Shanxi Province town that holds lots of little secret spots of historical interest. It is full of dirty streets, lots of small shops and some lovely old (and mostly falling apart) buildings with courtyards, old carvings and all. It has no city wall remaining, the way that Pingyao, its famous, touristy nearby neighbor, has. But it does have some old stone streets, lovely old buildings, some old houses that used to belong to some wealthy merchants, a few temples nearby, the old drum tower and a-thousand-year-old pagoda downtown. Apparently, 100 years ago, Taigu was full of wealthy merchants (mostly bankers). Now, it seems to be full of pretty ordinary, perhaps relatively poor people.
Shanxi Province is known for its baijiu (a strong kind of alcohol), its noodles, its vinegar, and its coal mines and coal processing plants. The province is dry and in the mountains to the west and slightly south of Beijing. The weather, they say, is similar to Oberlin, but a lot dryer. The Province is relatively poor compared to its wealthier coastal neighbors, but there are a few absurdly rich people who own the mines and factories. We are lucky because the campus is so green and Taigu itself is not a coalmining city, but we get some nice pollution from the neighboring capital of Shanxi—Taiyuan. We are about an hour bus ride or train ride from Taiyuan, (which we only go to if we are crazing luxuries like cheese, pizza and good chocolate, because, though modern, is not a particularly beautiful city).
Basically, overall, I feel really lucky to be here. It will be an experience unlike what many foreigners would ever get to experience when traveling in China. It will be tough at times I know--I’ve already heard stories—but I also have heard that it is super hard to leave here after two years. So I'd better start enjoying it now.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Getting to know Taigu August 21-23
The campus is beautiful. Especially because after the rain, the sky was blue, the temperature perfect and the air clear. There are plenty of trees and small parks for a tree hugger like me, and an unusual amount of grass for China (but still probably less grass than most American Universities require.)
There is no other foreigner but me here thus far, which makes things a little more lonely, and me a little more terrified that I have less than 10 days to prepare for a semester class of Masters students that I've never taught before. But it also forces me to walk around on my own and get up my confidence.
Apparently we were given a cook. Being the middle class American that I am, I was terrified of this at first. And then I met her. She immediately won me over with her big smile and sweet face (is there a common theme in what I like in people?). And then won me over even more because one evening she sat down at my table and started talking with me. It turns out that she is brand new, and has never cooked except for her own family before. She seems a little terrified of the prospect of pleasing all these foreigners, but pleasantly surprised that I am so easy to please.
SEEING THE CITY OF TAIGU
There is also a young man (a senior in college), who is the son of some of the people in charge of the university, that the Foreign Affairs people have assigned to show me around the campus and the area. Today we went into Taigu and I finally got to see this little city that I'm going to live in for two years.
It's definitely a small city, they say 40,000 people. (Based on some websites, the University has about 11,000 students, undergrad and graduate.) The tallest buildings are...well...there aren't really any tall buildings, unless you consider 7 stories tall.
We saw a pagoda in the center of town that is over 1000 years old, 7 stories tall. Really cool, except that there were pieces of the wooden stairs that appeared to be missing. I hoped the internal structure was not the original. We could see the mountains next to the city from the top of the structure and I'm super excited to figure out how to get to them and hike.
We also went to the drum tower, which is still intact, unlike the bell tower and the old wall, which have long been taken down to make room for development. There were plenty of old houses surrounding, which my new tour guide/friend, Jack, explained were a common thing for foreigners to come study. He explained that the houses were really well insulated; cool in the summer and warm in the winter. He said it was because they were made of soil. I didn't quite understand until we watched for a minute the men working on a roof on a nearby house. They were taking thick globs of mud and using it as mortar and then spreading a thin mortar-type mixture into it, and then putting the traditional half-cylinder tiles on top. I laughed and explained to Jack that they are re-learning how to build houses made of mud in the U.S. now--it's part of a movement to do better to the environment. Jack said he heard the U.S.'s environment was a lot better than China's. In a land that has very few trees left, my friend explained that wood cannot be used in building anymore. It used to be that traditional buildings were made with huge timbers and without nails. Now, nobody can make such buildings anymore--most buildings are brick in the countryside and concrete in the city.
ZHONGGUOREN OR WAIGUOREN
It's funny to see what people think of me as a foreigner here in Taigu, where the only foreigners seemt to be teachers at the University. But again, I appear not to be a good example of a standard foreigner. One woman, asked me as we came down from the drum tower if she and her friend were allowed to go up. She looked at me closer as I came down the stairs and laughed, "Ah, ta shi waiguoren!" (Oh, she's a foreigner!) Most people stared at me only after taking a second look. We got onto one bus and the busdriver took a closer look. He asked Jack, "Ta shi waiguoren ma?" Jack replied positively, and the busdriver smiled excitedly and gave me a thums up. I wasn't sure what for, but I smiled back. Later, I was looking for some fruit and a little lunch in the area between the teacher's section of the school and the main campus where all the little restaurants and stores were, a woman was much more blunt with me. As I walked into a dumpling place, she yelled to me from the next store over, "Ni shi zhongguoren haishi waiguoren?" (Are you Chinese, or a foreigner?) For a moment I thought I should just tell her I was Chinese for kicks, but then I realized my accent would probably give me away. "Waiguoren" I replied. I secretly hoped that wouldn't mean that the dumpling place would try and charge me more...
Night time is easier to walk around and not be taken for a foreigner or an odd-looking Chinese. I have dark enough and straight enough hair, and luckily for me, most of the women in Shanxi are taller and stouter than in places like Kunming where the people are really small and I always felt like a giant. I was still a slight bit taller and stouter than what was probably normal for a young woman, but in the dark, no body paid me any attention. It felt pretty nice.
I saw the stars out tonight too. Another good sign.
There is no other foreigner but me here thus far, which makes things a little more lonely, and me a little more terrified that I have less than 10 days to prepare for a semester class of Masters students that I've never taught before. But it also forces me to walk around on my own and get up my confidence.
Apparently we were given a cook. Being the middle class American that I am, I was terrified of this at first. And then I met her. She immediately won me over with her big smile and sweet face (is there a common theme in what I like in people?). And then won me over even more because one evening she sat down at my table and started talking with me. It turns out that she is brand new, and has never cooked except for her own family before. She seems a little terrified of the prospect of pleasing all these foreigners, but pleasantly surprised that I am so easy to please.
SEEING THE CITY OF TAIGU
There is also a young man (a senior in college), who is the son of some of the people in charge of the university, that the Foreign Affairs people have assigned to show me around the campus and the area. Today we went into Taigu and I finally got to see this little city that I'm going to live in for two years.
It's definitely a small city, they say 40,000 people. (Based on some websites, the University has about 11,000 students, undergrad and graduate.) The tallest buildings are...well...there aren't really any tall buildings, unless you consider 7 stories tall.
We saw a pagoda in the center of town that is over 1000 years old, 7 stories tall. Really cool, except that there were pieces of the wooden stairs that appeared to be missing. I hoped the internal structure was not the original. We could see the mountains next to the city from the top of the structure and I'm super excited to figure out how to get to them and hike.
We also went to the drum tower, which is still intact, unlike the bell tower and the old wall, which have long been taken down to make room for development. There were plenty of old houses surrounding, which my new tour guide/friend, Jack, explained were a common thing for foreigners to come study. He explained that the houses were really well insulated; cool in the summer and warm in the winter. He said it was because they were made of soil. I didn't quite understand until we watched for a minute the men working on a roof on a nearby house. They were taking thick globs of mud and using it as mortar and then spreading a thin mortar-type mixture into it, and then putting the traditional half-cylinder tiles on top. I laughed and explained to Jack that they are re-learning how to build houses made of mud in the U.S. now--it's part of a movement to do better to the environment. Jack said he heard the U.S.'s environment was a lot better than China's. In a land that has very few trees left, my friend explained that wood cannot be used in building anymore. It used to be that traditional buildings were made with huge timbers and without nails. Now, nobody can make such buildings anymore--most buildings are brick in the countryside and concrete in the city.
ZHONGGUOREN OR WAIGUOREN
It's funny to see what people think of me as a foreigner here in Taigu, where the only foreigners seemt to be teachers at the University. But again, I appear not to be a good example of a standard foreigner. One woman, asked me as we came down from the drum tower if she and her friend were allowed to go up. She looked at me closer as I came down the stairs and laughed, "Ah, ta shi waiguoren!" (Oh, she's a foreigner!) Most people stared at me only after taking a second look. We got onto one bus and the busdriver took a closer look. He asked Jack, "Ta shi waiguoren ma?" Jack replied positively, and the busdriver smiled excitedly and gave me a thums up. I wasn't sure what for, but I smiled back. Later, I was looking for some fruit and a little lunch in the area between the teacher's section of the school and the main campus where all the little restaurants and stores were, a woman was much more blunt with me. As I walked into a dumpling place, she yelled to me from the next store over, "Ni shi zhongguoren haishi waiguoren?" (Are you Chinese, or a foreigner?) For a moment I thought I should just tell her I was Chinese for kicks, but then I realized my accent would probably give me away. "Waiguoren" I replied. I secretly hoped that wouldn't mean that the dumpling place would try and charge me more...
Night time is easier to walk around and not be taken for a foreigner or an odd-looking Chinese. I have dark enough and straight enough hair, and luckily for me, most of the women in Shanxi are taller and stouter than in places like Kunming where the people are really small and I always felt like a giant. I was still a slight bit taller and stouter than what was probably normal for a young woman, but in the dark, no body paid me any attention. It felt pretty nice.
I saw the stars out tonight too. Another good sign.
arrival in Taigu August 20
wow. lovely. I knew I would like the place before I got there because it was raining hard in Taiyuan, and the woman who met me at the airport didn't speak a word of English and had a robust smile. As we drove from the airport to Taigu, she spoke quickly to the man driving. But I liked her immediately because not only could I understand a fair amount of what she said, but she was super animated when speaking--you could tell she was a gutsy woman just from the way she spoke. I liked the man driving too, because even though he spoke to her in a thick accent that sounded like Vietnamese to me, he spoke slowly and clearly to me in Mandarin when they figured out I could speak it.
It was dark and wet when we got in, so I just washed up and conked out in bed.
It was dark and wet when we got in, so I just washed up and conked out in bed.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
August 19th
I met up with my former Chinese roommate from CET. It was absolutely wonderful to see her. We picked up right where we left off. She always understands everything I'm trying to say in Chinese even if I say it wrong. Plus, I'm used to her vocabulary, so I can keep up with what she's saying (in spite of the fact that she speaks very fast). We had a meal and went to Bei Da (Peiking University), which I hadn't been to last time. My grandfather went to Bei Da back in the day, and it was pretty awesome to see it. I assumed it was easy to get in like most American colleges and followed my roommate in past the gatekeepers, but she told me afterwards that they let us in because we looked like students. It was actually not easy to be let onto the campus. Oops. Bei Da was beautiful and I took a ton of pictures. Hopefully I can post them soon.
That evening my family took me to one of the track and field Olympic games. Funny, I swore I wasn't going to the Olympics when I went to Beijing, but I had a blast (actually I think more of a blast than my family did...three hours of track and field is pretty tiresome when it is not your favorite sport.) It was pretty entertaining--when they first told me we were going I had no idea what event we were going to see (I didn't know the word for track and field in Chinese), so I figured I would nod and smile and be surprised when I got to the stadium. I wasn't only surprised I was super excited. Track and field and cross country are the only sports I've ever competed in. I wasn't very good at them, but I know the challenge of them, and to see these superstars in their game was amazing. Actually, when we first got there, I was surprised at how small the competitors were (we were on the 3rd tier up). They seemed a lot more human from the balcony and through binoculars than when they are on the TV screen. That is, until they started running, jumping or throwing.
Turns out, the track and field tickets are sort of like buy one get 15 free. You pay for one event and you get to see a ton of other ones. This is what we saw:
Trials for: Women's 200m, Women's 5k (my favorite), Men's 150m hurdles
Semifinals for: Men's 200m, Men's 400m
finals for: Men's high jump, Men's discus, Women's 400m, Women's 100m hurdles, and Men's 1500m.
and award ceremony for: men's long jump, men's hurdles (forgot which length--they were all Americans), women's pole vault, men's high jump and Women's 400m.
(whew.)
these were all interspersed and usually a track and field event were going on at once. (I kept being afraid that the men high jumpers were going to be run over by the women 5k-ers.)
The most amazing thing was the size of the stadium and the power of the crowd. As the runners ran around the track a giant wave of cheering followed them. Each country had their little group of fans (mostly the European countries and U.S.) that were wearing all the right colors and carrying flags and crazy hats and jumped up and went wild when someone from their county got on the field. And when a Chinese competitor (there were only 4) was on the track or field the crowd went wild. A chant of jia you (which means literally add oil, but is used to encourage people to do well, work hard, etc.) would start quietly and rise up and swallow a whole side of the stadium until the large video screens on both sides of the stadium would post in Chinese and English "Please be quiet for the start of the competition." Pretty incredible support considering these Chinese competitors were not the most famous or the most likely to get a metal. That certainly didn't stop the majority of the crowd from bringing Chinese flags, putting stickers on their faces and chanting their hearts out. What a time for China. The Olympics seem to take up the majority of the TV stations on Chinese TV, and every day the upbeat songs played while showing a review of the Olympics seem to be able to incorporate one more recent Chinese gold metal into their series of images. Amazing.
I didn't think I'd like watching the Olympics, but I did. It means a lot to a lot of people. And it was pretty awesome to see that even countries that were paid very little attention in international politics were paid a lot of attention in international sports competitions. It's amazing how much pride is in these games. And a decent amount of respect, too. Everyone gets cheered for, no matter the country.
That evening my family took me to one of the track and field Olympic games. Funny, I swore I wasn't going to the Olympics when I went to Beijing, but I had a blast (actually I think more of a blast than my family did...three hours of track and field is pretty tiresome when it is not your favorite sport.) It was pretty entertaining--when they first told me we were going I had no idea what event we were going to see (I didn't know the word for track and field in Chinese), so I figured I would nod and smile and be surprised when I got to the stadium. I wasn't only surprised I was super excited. Track and field and cross country are the only sports I've ever competed in. I wasn't very good at them, but I know the challenge of them, and to see these superstars in their game was amazing. Actually, when we first got there, I was surprised at how small the competitors were (we were on the 3rd tier up). They seemed a lot more human from the balcony and through binoculars than when they are on the TV screen. That is, until they started running, jumping or throwing.
Turns out, the track and field tickets are sort of like buy one get 15 free. You pay for one event and you get to see a ton of other ones. This is what we saw:
Trials for: Women's 200m, Women's 5k (my favorite), Men's 150m hurdles
Semifinals for: Men's 200m, Men's 400m
finals for: Men's high jump, Men's discus, Women's 400m, Women's 100m hurdles, and Men's 1500m.
and award ceremony for: men's long jump, men's hurdles (forgot which length--they were all Americans), women's pole vault, men's high jump and Women's 400m.
(whew.)
these were all interspersed and usually a track and field event were going on at once. (I kept being afraid that the men high jumpers were going to be run over by the women 5k-ers.)
The most amazing thing was the size of the stadium and the power of the crowd. As the runners ran around the track a giant wave of cheering followed them. Each country had their little group of fans (mostly the European countries and U.S.) that were wearing all the right colors and carrying flags and crazy hats and jumped up and went wild when someone from their county got on the field. And when a Chinese competitor (there were only 4) was on the track or field the crowd went wild. A chant of jia you (which means literally add oil, but is used to encourage people to do well, work hard, etc.) would start quietly and rise up and swallow a whole side of the stadium until the large video screens on both sides of the stadium would post in Chinese and English "Please be quiet for the start of the competition." Pretty incredible support considering these Chinese competitors were not the most famous or the most likely to get a metal. That certainly didn't stop the majority of the crowd from bringing Chinese flags, putting stickers on their faces and chanting their hearts out. What a time for China. The Olympics seem to take up the majority of the TV stations on Chinese TV, and every day the upbeat songs played while showing a review of the Olympics seem to be able to incorporate one more recent Chinese gold metal into their series of images. Amazing.
I didn't think I'd like watching the Olympics, but I did. It means a lot to a lot of people. And it was pretty awesome to see that even countries that were paid very little attention in international politics were paid a lot of attention in international sports competitions. It's amazing how much pride is in these games. And a decent amount of respect, too. Everyone gets cheered for, no matter the country.
August 18
We went to the Great Wall--to a section that normally only Chinese know about and go to. But this time, there were a ton of foreigners there too. It was the first time I got asked, "Do you speak English?" I got to translate for someone who didn't quite understand how to buy tickets. It was fun to see the guy's reaction when I spoke in Chinese with my uncle (because I didn't really know how to buy tickets either). He asked me if I was from here. I laughed and said, no I'm from America. He, who sounded like he was from Europe, gave me a look that seemed to say, now why would you be from there, and accepted our advice.
I think I'm starting to like saying that I'm American. The only time I feel American is when I'm not in America. And plus, I enjoy breaking people's stereotypes of the blonde, blue-eyed, stubborn, monolingual American.
The mountains at that re-built section of the Great Wall were incredible. It was like the Sierras only smaller and sharper peaks. Also greener, a lot greener. And there are the remains of a wall that stretch miles upon miles up and down the peaks. Okay, so by "like the Sierras" I mean they were incredible and awesome and mountains, but really different.
It was super hot on the wall. We took a lift (as in a ski lift) up and walked a ways on the wall and then hiked down. (You can also take a slide down, but it's quite expensive and the wait was like 45 minutes in the hot sun. It did look pretty fun though.) There were plenty of exhausted tourists on the wall. And quite a few complaining Americans who just wanted some Coronas.
That evening I went into town to see my cousin who had been studying Chinese at ACC in Beijing. It was crazy to speak English again. And she speaks quickly, so it was quite fun to feel at home in a language again. I thoroughly enjoyed sitting with her at a jiaozi fangguan (a dumpling restaurant) and chatting away in English too fast for anyone in the restaurant to understand. Plus it was so wonderful to see a familiar face and catch up. NOTE TO ANYONE PLANNING TO VISIT ME: Please come. It will be fun. Trust me. You will be thoroughly enjoyed.
I think I'm starting to like saying that I'm American. The only time I feel American is when I'm not in America. And plus, I enjoy breaking people's stereotypes of the blonde, blue-eyed, stubborn, monolingual American.
The mountains at that re-built section of the Great Wall were incredible. It was like the Sierras only smaller and sharper peaks. Also greener, a lot greener. And there are the remains of a wall that stretch miles upon miles up and down the peaks. Okay, so by "like the Sierras" I mean they were incredible and awesome and mountains, but really different.
It was super hot on the wall. We took a lift (as in a ski lift) up and walked a ways on the wall and then hiked down. (You can also take a slide down, but it's quite expensive and the wait was like 45 minutes in the hot sun. It did look pretty fun though.) There were plenty of exhausted tourists on the wall. And quite a few complaining Americans who just wanted some Coronas.
That evening I went into town to see my cousin who had been studying Chinese at ACC in Beijing. It was crazy to speak English again. And she speaks quickly, so it was quite fun to feel at home in a language again. I thoroughly enjoyed sitting with her at a jiaozi fangguan (a dumpling restaurant) and chatting away in English too fast for anyone in the restaurant to understand. Plus it was so wonderful to see a familiar face and catch up. NOTE TO ANYONE PLANNING TO VISIT ME: Please come. It will be fun. Trust me. You will be thoroughly enjoyed.
Arrival. August 16th and 17th
The first and most shocking thing I noticed when we landed:
There was blue sky in Beijing, and you could see the blue-gray outline of the mountain range surrounding it.
Last spring and summer, I never saw the mountains even once from the city. The influence of the Olympics is apparent even without going to the stadium.
The countryside just outside of Beijing is really beautiful when the sun is shinning. I didn’t remember the area around the airport being so green. I was pretty sure it was rather dusty last time I was here in the summer. I thought perhaps they had washed all the plants near the airport like they did for the trees in downtown Beijing. And then I remembered that they can make it rain if they want to. And if they want the Olympics to be clear, that can be planned. We turned down a side road and there were people squatting in the green shade of the trees playing chess and others wobbling by on bicycles with a large load or another person sitting on the back of their bikes in and out of the sunshine and splotchy green shade. It looked the same as it might have 20 years ago. Except the people would have never believed you could make it rain, let alone that the world was coming to see their city.
The housing complex where my grandfather's nephew and his family live is called Watermark, Longbeach. (Does anyone know if there is actually a Watermark, Longbeach, in California?) I actually like the Chinese translation better—watershadow. The houses where my family live are about the size of an average American house. Normal for an American, they are huge for an average Chinese family. Funny, the neighborhood is a replica of those fancy houses in California, with red tiled roofs, intricate carved wooden doors and everything. There is even well-maintained grass, a small park, and some large, American-size dogs.
I know many people from other countries, especially us Americans, criticize China for its rapid modernization and worry how it will use up the world's resources by having things like cars (oh wait, which country owns the most cars in the world?). But there are some differences in the way China immitates and modernizes. For example, in this community, what separated it from the equivalent wealthy Califorian community was that the lawns were small (compensated by a park in the middle of everything, the houses, though well-made, were not excessively large, they only had a one-car garage, if that, and in the evenings and mornings there were always quite a few people walking themselves, their children, and/or their large dogs about. There was also a beautiful, long mural of what I assumed was an interpretation of Longbeach, which never would have been allowed in a wealthy American community. It was an old Longbeach—there were ships that looked like the Mayflower, and people dressed like old fishermen. The mountains in the background really looked like California hills, and, as Longbeach may have been in the U.S., the people in the mural appeared Caucasian. In spite of the setting being out of time and place, the quality of the painting was impressive for an outside wall. The U.S. communities could learn something from that, and realize that blank walls are boring. They should also hire crazy people like me to paint them.
My family was lovely. They treated me well, and were so patient with me as I struggled with my Chinese. They figured out how to ask simple questions of me in order to keep conversation up, and I remembered enough Chinese to answer some questions and ask some questions. Cooking, traveling and children also helped bridge some language gaps. Plus smiling and laughing are international and I'm pretty good at those things.
Another aunt and uncle took me and my great aunt out for a car ride into the nearby mountains. The scenery was beautiful. The sun was still out and a breeze coming through. We might call them hills in America, but they had the sharp jagged peaks above the green trees proved that they were mountains. They pulled over next to what appeared to be an orchard of chestnuts to step out and look. They walked across a small steam right into the orchard (I followed them eagerly, assuming that this sort of thing was therefore acceptable in China) and went up to the woman working there to ask her what she was doing. (I thought it was pretty apparent--she was kneeling on the ground pulling up weeds. But I think the question was a precursor to asking more about the orchard.) She said she was clearing beneath the trees so that they could more easily find the chestnuts that fell. (Good answer for what I would have just impatiently called pulling weeds.) She was surprisingly friendly and talkative considering she was on her knees on the ground doing what many Americans really dislike doing, and considering she had probably been doing it since the early morning. My aunt and uncle were also very respectful and talkative considering the difference between their situation and the woman's. I liked the message of the encounter--be respectful, know that the other knows more than you about something and learn from each other. Sounds good to me. The farmers around Taigu have to watch out though, I might come up to them in the middle of their work day and think it's polite to start asking them lots of questions. Maybe it's a good distraction.
As we walked along the dirt road by the orchard a little ways I noticed another borrowing from America. They had three plants growing together: beans, corn and squash. The woman had said they grew the beans, corn and squash as food for themselves. Nice use of Native American knowledge. Too bad modern agriculture in the U.S. forgot about it.
There was blue sky in Beijing, and you could see the blue-gray outline of the mountain range surrounding it.
Last spring and summer, I never saw the mountains even once from the city. The influence of the Olympics is apparent even without going to the stadium.
The countryside just outside of Beijing is really beautiful when the sun is shinning. I didn’t remember the area around the airport being so green. I was pretty sure it was rather dusty last time I was here in the summer. I thought perhaps they had washed all the plants near the airport like they did for the trees in downtown Beijing. And then I remembered that they can make it rain if they want to. And if they want the Olympics to be clear, that can be planned. We turned down a side road and there were people squatting in the green shade of the trees playing chess and others wobbling by on bicycles with a large load or another person sitting on the back of their bikes in and out of the sunshine and splotchy green shade. It looked the same as it might have 20 years ago. Except the people would have never believed you could make it rain, let alone that the world was coming to see their city.
The housing complex where my grandfather's nephew and his family live is called Watermark, Longbeach. (Does anyone know if there is actually a Watermark, Longbeach, in California?) I actually like the Chinese translation better—watershadow. The houses where my family live are about the size of an average American house. Normal for an American, they are huge for an average Chinese family. Funny, the neighborhood is a replica of those fancy houses in California, with red tiled roofs, intricate carved wooden doors and everything. There is even well-maintained grass, a small park, and some large, American-size dogs.
I know many people from other countries, especially us Americans, criticize China for its rapid modernization and worry how it will use up the world's resources by having things like cars (oh wait, which country owns the most cars in the world?). But there are some differences in the way China immitates and modernizes. For example, in this community, what separated it from the equivalent wealthy Califorian community was that the lawns were small (compensated by a park in the middle of everything, the houses, though well-made, were not excessively large, they only had a one-car garage, if that, and in the evenings and mornings there were always quite a few people walking themselves, their children, and/or their large dogs about. There was also a beautiful, long mural of what I assumed was an interpretation of Longbeach, which never would have been allowed in a wealthy American community. It was an old Longbeach—there were ships that looked like the Mayflower, and people dressed like old fishermen. The mountains in the background really looked like California hills, and, as Longbeach may have been in the U.S., the people in the mural appeared Caucasian. In spite of the setting being out of time and place, the quality of the painting was impressive for an outside wall. The U.S. communities could learn something from that, and realize that blank walls are boring. They should also hire crazy people like me to paint them.
My family was lovely. They treated me well, and were so patient with me as I struggled with my Chinese. They figured out how to ask simple questions of me in order to keep conversation up, and I remembered enough Chinese to answer some questions and ask some questions. Cooking, traveling and children also helped bridge some language gaps. Plus smiling and laughing are international and I'm pretty good at those things.
Another aunt and uncle took me and my great aunt out for a car ride into the nearby mountains. The scenery was beautiful. The sun was still out and a breeze coming through. We might call them hills in America, but they had the sharp jagged peaks above the green trees proved that they were mountains. They pulled over next to what appeared to be an orchard of chestnuts to step out and look. They walked across a small steam right into the orchard (I followed them eagerly, assuming that this sort of thing was therefore acceptable in China) and went up to the woman working there to ask her what she was doing. (I thought it was pretty apparent--she was kneeling on the ground pulling up weeds. But I think the question was a precursor to asking more about the orchard.) She said she was clearing beneath the trees so that they could more easily find the chestnuts that fell. (Good answer for what I would have just impatiently called pulling weeds.) She was surprisingly friendly and talkative considering she was on her knees on the ground doing what many Americans really dislike doing, and considering she had probably been doing it since the early morning. My aunt and uncle were also very respectful and talkative considering the difference between their situation and the woman's. I liked the message of the encounter--be respectful, know that the other knows more than you about something and learn from each other. Sounds good to me. The farmers around Taigu have to watch out though, I might come up to them in the middle of their work day and think it's polite to start asking them lots of questions. Maybe it's a good distraction.
As we walked along the dirt road by the orchard a little ways I noticed another borrowing from America. They had three plants growing together: beans, corn and squash. The woman had said they grew the beans, corn and squash as food for themselves. Nice use of Native American knowledge. Too bad modern agriculture in the U.S. forgot about it.
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