Our final weeks in the semester have arrived with astonishing speed. Soon many of us will be doing traveling in-country or visiting other countries nearby. My friends and I have toyed with the idea of going to Vietnam for the holiday season and perhaps catching some sites in China along the way.
In my classes I have begun gearing up the students for our final, giving them review lessons and testing their comprehension. For the greater part of the semester I had been giving them a different lesson every week, each based on a subject I believed they needed to improve. This week I had chosen stereotypes and we had gone over many different aspects of the meaning and words used to describe how stereotypes arise. In many instances I challenged students to provide examples from their daily life. Of course few of them had any experience with race but ethnic and gender discrimination was not by any means unknown to them. I had a few interesting responses. One of my students mentioned that she was tired of people telling her she was supposed to be a housewife, a common role for women in modern China that is slowly fading away. Another recounted frustrations with parents who would not trust her with making responsible decisions. In not just one class I was caught off guard by ranting students angered that vampires are treated so unfairly by humans. Why didn't people understand that under that hard shell exterior some vampires were actually nice? It was a reminder to me that my students had an unhealthy obsession with shows like vampire diaries, and it was useless to do anything but nod your head and thank them for trying.
As I have mentioned before many of my students are females preparing to be high school English teachers. Though many if not most wish to pursue work in a big business or to travel abroad for foreign teaching, few of them are willing to take the risks involved with finding a private sector job. For this reason many students have revealed to me feelings of being trapped or driven into a narrowly defined life. In my talks regarding stereotypes I often encountered student feelings of helplessness, and our discussions revolved around collectivism versus individual independence. My attention was peaked several times when students responded to a few of my simple words of comfort, such as every one has their own experiences and their own individual problems, so it is normal to feel alone and confused at times even if your friends are not. I caught several students looking at me blankly, either because they didn't understand my words or the meaning behind them, but I was happy to see that several were deeply interested in the discussion.
This past weekend I spent some time in Chongqing, one of China's directly controled municipalities (直辖市）, that lies in central China. The city is large, very large, and for that reason (among others) it is also perhaps one of the most polluted. But the city offers many amazing sites including an opera house and a city center packed with enormous skyscrapers and western restaurants.
I was there visiting my friends Richie and Katie, a young married couple living together as PC volunteers. Due to the size of the city it was host to quite a few Peace Corps friends, all serving in and around the city. We spent the days touring around the center city and observing areas under construction, one of which was only in its initial stages. A trench a mile wide and several thousand feet deep was being dug by individual construction workers, each resting on a drill that was loosening up the earth. I was astounded at the size of it and the mishmash of workers making seemingly miniscule attempts to dig such a massive hole. But as with many of the most miraculous works in China, construction feats are often conducted with blinding speed and an army of workers.
At night we visited other volunteers. Our activities are usually surreal, with Chinese friends and faculty gathering with American volunteers for beer pong or drinking competitions. In our defense we do not have these gatherings often so we do not feel ashamed in mixing a bit of American alcoholism and traditional games-beer pong of course being one of them. And our Chinese friends were more than willing to join in. Other activities usually include clumsy dancing to songs we used to hate in the states and random drunken tests of strength that end in someone getting hurt. I'm usually disappointed if I dont get at least one bruise from the antics, and chastise myself by trying much harder to "enjoy" myself the next time.
This last week my students will conduct their finals in a play. My Christmas plans are likely to be a return to Chongqing, where I can celebrate with several of my friends and enjoy some semblence of a Christmas here in China. I have high expectations as many of my closest Peace Corps friends will be there with me.
I hope that this Christmas season is filled with happiness for all of you back home. I wish I could be there with you but alas I am not able to return from this side of the world. Please wish everyone a merry Christmas for me!
Happy Holidays!
祝你圣诞节快乐！
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Turkey Substitute
Several weeks have passed since my last entry. In that time I have become much closer to my student friends and experienced quite a few Chinese traditions that I had not yet encountered.
One such occassion occured just before the Thanksgiving holiday. Our foreign affairs liaison had invited us to a dinner with several of the university department heads to celebrate our American holiday. We understood that it was unlikely that they would find a turkey so our expectations remained moderately low in terms of finding anything "American" looking on the menu. But as our experience had proven on many occassions, Chinese menu's can always find a surprising substitute.
The morning we left our caravan of roughly four freshly shined cars set off from the finely paved city center streets to the outskirts of the city, where dirt roads weaved and winded around vast farm fields. The crops were low, mostly consisting of chives, rice, barley, tea and sesame, and for miles our eyes could graze the countless fields. The passage of our cars did not stir many of the scattered farmers whose broad cone shaped straw hats still protected them from the intense south China sun. I couldn't quite make out their faces but I was sure it was heavy with responsibility and experience. The lives of farmers out here away from the city was in many ways still the same as it had always been. Why they hadn't looked up at our noisy passage was soon revealed to me as I sat back, turned my head and glanced out the other side- Yibin's new airport stretched for miles in the other direction. Local villagers were probably not surprised by much anymore.
We arrived at our destination a few minutes later. The restaurant was the largest in a small village. Though technically we were still in Yibin the villages surrounding it were far removed from the business of the city. The restaurant was one large building and a small courtyard for large gatherings. To come upon this place with your American eyes you might not immediately consider it a restaurant. In fact upon first glance I was convinced we had come upon a lumber yard, as several of the "walls" were in actuallity high piles of long wood logs. My intuition told me that the owner had mixed winter practicality with new private dining areas.
The aroma of cooked meat pervaded the area. In one corner a fire had been made and several spits had been laid across with an unidentified meat. Later I would discover that this was goat, the main course. By nightfall nearly thirty faculty members from all departments had gathered along three rows of benches, each with a nice big goat on a spit in the middle. The food was surprisingly tasty as it had been glazed over several time with herbs and spices.
Meanwhile, as is customary in China(and especially in Yibin), we drank Chinese wine and beer which flowed endlessly from a back room. There was a great deal of toasting and laughing, and many of the other faculty members were anxious to wish us a happy Thanksgiving. Though it was difficult to discern why so many had turned out for such an American holiday we were grateful for all of their warm wishes.
It was not always easy keeping the conversation interesting, especially when many of the teachers only spoke Chinese, so we played simple drinking games and laughed at eachothers mistakes. I attempted to tell a few irish jokes, "have you heard the one about the Irishman who thinks the hardware store is a bar?" I asked them in Chinese, and when I had finished they seemed thoroughly pleased, though they most likely knew little about the Irish, or a bar.
We left that night with our bellies full and more than a little tipsy. The faculty members wished us a happy Thanksgiving one more time and bid us farewell. It hadn't been turkey but the food had surpassed our expecations and more, with plenty of the holiday cheer to go with it. And though I would be enjoying real turkey with friends the following day, I couldn't help feeling like I had had a real pilgrim experience in Yibin.
One such occassion occured just before the Thanksgiving holiday. Our foreign affairs liaison had invited us to a dinner with several of the university department heads to celebrate our American holiday. We understood that it was unlikely that they would find a turkey so our expectations remained moderately low in terms of finding anything "American" looking on the menu. But as our experience had proven on many occassions, Chinese menu's can always find a surprising substitute.
The morning we left our caravan of roughly four freshly shined cars set off from the finely paved city center streets to the outskirts of the city, where dirt roads weaved and winded around vast farm fields. The crops were low, mostly consisting of chives, rice, barley, tea and sesame, and for miles our eyes could graze the countless fields. The passage of our cars did not stir many of the scattered farmers whose broad cone shaped straw hats still protected them from the intense south China sun. I couldn't quite make out their faces but I was sure it was heavy with responsibility and experience. The lives of farmers out here away from the city was in many ways still the same as it had always been. Why they hadn't looked up at our noisy passage was soon revealed to me as I sat back, turned my head and glanced out the other side- Yibin's new airport stretched for miles in the other direction. Local villagers were probably not surprised by much anymore.
We arrived at our destination a few minutes later. The restaurant was the largest in a small village. Though technically we were still in Yibin the villages surrounding it were far removed from the business of the city. The restaurant was one large building and a small courtyard for large gatherings. To come upon this place with your American eyes you might not immediately consider it a restaurant. In fact upon first glance I was convinced we had come upon a lumber yard, as several of the "walls" were in actuallity high piles of long wood logs. My intuition told me that the owner had mixed winter practicality with new private dining areas.
The aroma of cooked meat pervaded the area. In one corner a fire had been made and several spits had been laid across with an unidentified meat. Later I would discover that this was goat, the main course. By nightfall nearly thirty faculty members from all departments had gathered along three rows of benches, each with a nice big goat on a spit in the middle. The food was surprisingly tasty as it had been glazed over several time with herbs and spices.
Meanwhile, as is customary in China(and especially in Yibin), we drank Chinese wine and beer which flowed endlessly from a back room. There was a great deal of toasting and laughing, and many of the other faculty members were anxious to wish us a happy Thanksgiving. Though it was difficult to discern why so many had turned out for such an American holiday we were grateful for all of their warm wishes.
It was not always easy keeping the conversation interesting, especially when many of the teachers only spoke Chinese, so we played simple drinking games and laughed at eachothers mistakes. I attempted to tell a few irish jokes, "have you heard the one about the Irishman who thinks the hardware store is a bar?" I asked them in Chinese, and when I had finished they seemed thoroughly pleased, though they most likely knew little about the Irish, or a bar.
We left that night with our bellies full and more than a little tipsy. The faculty members wished us a happy Thanksgiving one more time and bid us farewell. It hadn't been turkey but the food had surpassed our expecations and more, with plenty of the holiday cheer to go with it. And though I would be enjoying real turkey with friends the following day, I couldn't help feeling like I had had a real pilgrim experience in Yibin.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Halloween with Chinese Characteristics
It has been several weeks since classes began. The students, most of whom are girls, arrive each day expecting a sort of entertainment performance. My status as a foreigner is reason enough for their daily attention, but I attempt to meet their expectations with as much enjoyment and constructive teaching as the school will allow, which is quite alot.
On a Wednesday afternoon my students are in their groups, I have divided them so as to increase their productivity. Above us the flouresent lights glare down from high ceeilings onto the 60 odd seats, nearly all filled. The walls are plastered and peeling, there is little color to the room. The surroundings feel cold and in winter will feel colder still. Outside, a mountain dwarfs our building from only a dozen feet away, it is covered with giant bamboo stalks, each growing high enough to reach out and graze our classroom windows. They sweep and sway with the wind and give a comforting sound during quiet study time. At the front of the class the floor ascends one step, allowing greater access to the blackboard and a prominent place for me to stand.
As the student groups finish their preparations I call each forward one by one. Our topic is stress, one which I am sure they are familiar with, and the group must role play separate stressful situations. The first several shuffle up, giggling, and begin acting out the scene: You have lost your passport at the airport, the airport official is not helpful, what do you?
"What do you mean you lost your passport?!"
"I'm sorry I don't know where it is"
"Well I just can't help you."
"What?!"
"It's your fault. Why should I help?"
"Oh...my....Lady Gaga."
The idea that I could hear Lady Gaga as a catch phrase in China never entered my wildest imaginations, but there it was. And it was very popular to say such things. After the students finished berating eachother in front of the class I let them sit down. They had decided to plead with the officer for several minutes until he gave them the name of someone else to talk to. I had given the same situation to at least four different groups in four different classes, none chose to get angry or retaliate at the official, which I found amusing. Instead they found a peaceful and compromising negotiation.
After I had observed several of the other situations involving stealing or a suprise test I let them sit down. They had done surprisingly well despite their normal shyness. Groups, it had appeared, were much better at making them comfortable talking in front of the class. The idea of individual speeches or role plays never even crossed my mind, as students would have jumped out the window before speaking by themselves. But students have appeared to warm up after several weeks of classes, and now at least can be called upon to read a passage or answer a small question during class.
Outside of class I have been given even more opportunities to interact with students. Both Chris and I often meet with tutors or Chinese friends and our office door is usually open to the myriad of students who want to speak to us about being foreigners (I have reduced the introduction and conversational questions to a basic formula, which has so far proved accurate for all Chinese students: Do you like China? Do you like Sichuan? Isn't the food spicy? Can you sing? Oh no? That's too bad because I have this Michael Jackson song I was going to ask you to sing.)
My own methods for interaction have been quite different than some other volunteers, and as Halloween approaches I have been given several interesting opportunities to share my interests. Halloween is my favorite holiday, I am a self-proclaimed horror and dark humor enthusiast, so when a student asks me what kind of movies/books I like I feel a compulsion to share with them R.L. Steins Goosebumps (grade 1 scary) to Steven King books (grade 5 scary) lying around the office. I don't tell them to read it but I do like to tell them a little about the plot. Don't worry, I (probably) won't keep doing this after Halloween, and both guy and girl students seem to like it anyway.
I have also taken it upon myself to spread word of the innumerable foreign bands out there besides Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson. It is a day by day process but I hope to make some serious progress on that in the near future, so wish me luck.
The classes, though, are going well. The students nice and respectful so it is difficult to complain. I have time to pursue my own studies and my Chinese friends are always willing to help.
Now I am looking forward to Halloween. To my surprise the University has found their own way to celebrate this horrific holiday by making us go to classes on the weekend (don't ask why). So kudose to them for their hard work and perhaps I can muster up some kind of Halloween activities in the classroom as well.
Take care and happy Halloween back home!
On a Wednesday afternoon my students are in their groups, I have divided them so as to increase their productivity. Above us the flouresent lights glare down from high ceeilings onto the 60 odd seats, nearly all filled. The walls are plastered and peeling, there is little color to the room. The surroundings feel cold and in winter will feel colder still. Outside, a mountain dwarfs our building from only a dozen feet away, it is covered with giant bamboo stalks, each growing high enough to reach out and graze our classroom windows. They sweep and sway with the wind and give a comforting sound during quiet study time. At the front of the class the floor ascends one step, allowing greater access to the blackboard and a prominent place for me to stand.
As the student groups finish their preparations I call each forward one by one. Our topic is stress, one which I am sure they are familiar with, and the group must role play separate stressful situations. The first several shuffle up, giggling, and begin acting out the scene: You have lost your passport at the airport, the airport official is not helpful, what do you?
"What do you mean you lost your passport?!"
"I'm sorry I don't know where it is"
"Well I just can't help you."
"What?!"
"It's your fault. Why should I help?"
"Oh...my....Lady Gaga."
The idea that I could hear Lady Gaga as a catch phrase in China never entered my wildest imaginations, but there it was. And it was very popular to say such things. After the students finished berating eachother in front of the class I let them sit down. They had decided to plead with the officer for several minutes until he gave them the name of someone else to talk to. I had given the same situation to at least four different groups in four different classes, none chose to get angry or retaliate at the official, which I found amusing. Instead they found a peaceful and compromising negotiation.
After I had observed several of the other situations involving stealing or a suprise test I let them sit down. They had done surprisingly well despite their normal shyness. Groups, it had appeared, were much better at making them comfortable talking in front of the class. The idea of individual speeches or role plays never even crossed my mind, as students would have jumped out the window before speaking by themselves. But students have appeared to warm up after several weeks of classes, and now at least can be called upon to read a passage or answer a small question during class.
Outside of class I have been given even more opportunities to interact with students. Both Chris and I often meet with tutors or Chinese friends and our office door is usually open to the myriad of students who want to speak to us about being foreigners (I have reduced the introduction and conversational questions to a basic formula, which has so far proved accurate for all Chinese students: Do you like China? Do you like Sichuan? Isn't the food spicy? Can you sing? Oh no? That's too bad because I have this Michael Jackson song I was going to ask you to sing.)
My own methods for interaction have been quite different than some other volunteers, and as Halloween approaches I have been given several interesting opportunities to share my interests. Halloween is my favorite holiday, I am a self-proclaimed horror and dark humor enthusiast, so when a student asks me what kind of movies/books I like I feel a compulsion to share with them R.L. Steins Goosebumps (grade 1 scary) to Steven King books (grade 5 scary) lying around the office. I don't tell them to read it but I do like to tell them a little about the plot. Don't worry, I (probably) won't keep doing this after Halloween, and both guy and girl students seem to like it anyway.
I have also taken it upon myself to spread word of the innumerable foreign bands out there besides Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson. It is a day by day process but I hope to make some serious progress on that in the near future, so wish me luck.
The classes, though, are going well. The students nice and respectful so it is difficult to complain. I have time to pursue my own studies and my Chinese friends are always willing to help.
Now I am looking forward to Halloween. To my surprise the University has found their own way to celebrate this horrific holiday by making us go to classes on the weekend (don't ask why). So kudose to them for their hard work and perhaps I can muster up some kind of Halloween activities in the classroom as well.
Take care and happy Halloween back home!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Mooncakes and Panders
Ages ago a fallen godess sat within her mortal home. Depressed and heartbroken over her lost immortality, she sat gazing out her window, awaiting her husband's return. He would not, however, until he had found the elixer capable of returning them to the heavens. Eventually, her husband arrived home with an answer to their troubles- a pill, which if eaten in halves could restore them to their former glory. Both were ecstatic, but it was decided to put the pill aside until they were ready to leave. Soon after the girl acted with Pandora-like folly and consumed both halves by herself, her curiosity getting the best of her. Her feet lifted from the floor and she was carried away to the moon. Her husband stood watching, his arrow in hand and a face filled with agony. He could not bear to shoot her down with his deadly bow.
That girl, Chang'e, is still remembered in Ancient Chinese legend and is celebrated every year during Mid-Autumn Festival （中秋节）, September 22nd. This year a new Chang'e will be making its way to the moon, and at a much faster speed. Chang'e 2, a modern Chinese Space shuttle, departs for the moon on October 1st, 2010, China's National Day. It's mission is to conduct rudimentary surveys and aid in future missions to the moon by Chang'e 3 and 4.
I marveled at this as I made my way up Cuiping mountain for the second time, my speed reaching that of perhaps an aged and depressed English bulldog (sorry, Frank). We were celebrating Mid-Autumn festival in our own way by joining our Chinese students in another hiking trip. This time Chris and I would be ascending from the opposite side and would discover plenty of new sites (including a zoo!). It had sounded like a great idea the night before, and indeed it was, but we had forgotten an essential Mid-Autumn festival tradition-Mooncakes. By definition a mooncake can be essentially any kind of bread like cake containing meat or sweet filling within it's shell. As with many specialty cakes or bread in China we were never even remotely sure which particular ingredient we would find inside. By mid-day, however, our students had insisted that we experiment with nearly 10 or 15. Suddenly Cuiping mountain felt more like a threat than a challenge, but we were determined to make it to the summit without troubles.
It was not going to be easy. Our students and colleagues constantly challenged us to some sort of race or shortcut to the top, which generally meant a long and steep race up perilously small steps. Occasionally the longer races would lead us to some hidden terrace along the mountains paths. After one such race I found myself wandering into a courtyard of Buddhist temples, hidden atop a particularly great staircase. I was surrounded by the drifting smoke of incense and bright golden statues, casual followers prostrated themselves on the ground while the chants of devout monks sounded from an unseen room. The greatest statues were situated within their own temples, their hands carefully intertwined or extended to personify their enlightened state. My Chinese friend Alex found me sitting on a bench observing a particularly large group of small Buddha statues. "Those are the thousand Buddhas," he said. "Ancient legend hold a story for them, that they were first created by a student of a great Buddhist master. The master had told both his students that their last task was to create a great artistic masterpiece, and that the one with the most profound art would be allowed to take their place amongst the masters. They had ten years. Finally, when ten years had passed the students returned to their teacher.
'What have you created?' he asked the first. 'A giant Buddha, magnificent in size.' 'And you?' he asked to second. 'I have created one thousand Buddha's, magnificent in number.' The teacher contemplated this and then awarded the second the title of master. "A thousand is much better than just one!'
In his agony, the first student thrust himself off his giant statue, unable to bear his failure. Having heard of the suicide, the teacher visited each of their creations and was astounded at the size of the first student's Buddha. What have I done? he thought, this is truly more magnificent than one thousand small statues. But it was too late."
I sat thinking about this for a while and was a bit confused. Isn't ten thousand Buddha's also good? "Yes," he said, "but you must go to Leshan and see the giant Buddha to understand. The giant Buddha there is too big to describe." This didn't make me feel much better as I had had several opportunities to go to see this statue, it being not far from Chengdu, but had failed to do so each time.
When we eventually reached the peak of Cuiping mountain we found stone benches atop a patio, several feet before us the ground descended quickly to the city far below. Behind us, a giant pagoda extended high above the mountain, where it could be seen from any point in Yibin, a symbol of its ancient past. Normally these buildings indicated that a great burial had taken place, and that the pagoda had been set up atop the burning remains to prevent evil spirits from getting in, or out. It's place high on the mountain was also closely associated with the concept of Feng Shui, which held that the precise direction of a burial ground, and the location of the mountains, was essential for warding off spirits.
Down below, the Yangtze river could be seen navigating its way through the city. It's path cut the city in three halves- the northern shore, the city center and the Yibin college campus where I live. Great bridges allow passage from one side to the other, below them giant shipyards constantly work to despatch cargo boats to Chongqing or Shanghai, the last city along the Yantze. From my perch I gazed at the hulls of modern Chinese ships racing across the river, dwarfed sampans still drift back and forth in their wake, another small remnant of ancient China. At night both the great cargo ships and the small sampans will give off faint red or green lights to warn of their passage, illuminating the Yangtze in an almost Christmas-like glow.
We arrived at the bottom later that afternoon, tired and sweating from the intense heat. Before we completed our journey, however, I had one more chance to attempt a potentially catastrophic feat. It had been at a large pond sitting at the foot of the mountain. Although it was man made several of the locals took to using it for fishing or for relaxing by a water body. It was large enough that many different crowds were well spread out amongst the pond's bends and curves. At one point, lying back against the side of the mountain, twelve large animal statues lay personifying the twelve zodiac symbols. To my dismay my animal was not on the side of the pond's shore but lay at least a dozen feet inside the ponds circumfrence, on a small island connected only by stepping stones. Feeling lucky I made my way across the pond, carefully stepping from one stone to the next, particularly careful not to slip on the stones fully submerged underwater. Halfway to my destination, however, I felt keenly aware of how easily I had brushed off the consequences of falling headfirst into the pond. It would not have been a pretty site, and there would have been little "face" left for many months I am sure. Arriving at the island I took some brief photo's standing next to my symbol, the ox, and once satisfied made my way back. Afterwords I breathed a long and heavy sigh that I had made it unscathed. At the time I felt like master of ponds, which then seemed like a more impressive title, and I even had a photo to prove what I had done! Feeling proud and arrogant I looked at my friends camera to check if it looked even remotely as interesting as I thought. The photo had not come out.
Two weeks later I am lounging at my desk, sounds of heavy rainfall can be heard from outside. It is National Day, October 1st, and undoubtedly there are parades and celebrations all over Yibin to welcome the 61st birthday of modern China. I am delaying the inevitable amount of cleaning I must do before several of my friends arrive. National Day, the equivalent of our July 4th, means a week off from classes, and I am anxious to show friends around the city.
Switching to the main news stations I find Beijings National Day commemoration ceremony-huge, well orchestrated marches on the main square, its magnitude difficult to describe in words. Occassionally these celebrations are interrupted with pictures of Hua Mei（华美）, the baby panda (pander, if you want to use the local dialect), just born in Sichuan province. His name literally meaning China-America, and as a baby panda he gets alot of attention, not least because Sichuan has most of the world's pandas, and because their mating habits make them particularly bad breeders.
Now I must get on with my day. Though watching pandas is certainly entertaining it will not get the dishes any cleaner. I hope any of you reading this will have a happy National Day and/or enjoy whatever particular event is happening right now in the U.S.! 再见！
祝你国庆节快乐！
That girl, Chang'e, is still remembered in Ancient Chinese legend and is celebrated every year during Mid-Autumn Festival （中秋节）, September 22nd. This year a new Chang'e will be making its way to the moon, and at a much faster speed. Chang'e 2, a modern Chinese Space shuttle, departs for the moon on October 1st, 2010, China's National Day. It's mission is to conduct rudimentary surveys and aid in future missions to the moon by Chang'e 3 and 4.
I marveled at this as I made my way up Cuiping mountain for the second time, my speed reaching that of perhaps an aged and depressed English bulldog (sorry, Frank). We were celebrating Mid-Autumn festival in our own way by joining our Chinese students in another hiking trip. This time Chris and I would be ascending from the opposite side and would discover plenty of new sites (including a zoo!). It had sounded like a great idea the night before, and indeed it was, but we had forgotten an essential Mid-Autumn festival tradition-Mooncakes. By definition a mooncake can be essentially any kind of bread like cake containing meat or sweet filling within it's shell. As with many specialty cakes or bread in China we were never even remotely sure which particular ingredient we would find inside. By mid-day, however, our students had insisted that we experiment with nearly 10 or 15. Suddenly Cuiping mountain felt more like a threat than a challenge, but we were determined to make it to the summit without troubles.
It was not going to be easy. Our students and colleagues constantly challenged us to some sort of race or shortcut to the top, which generally meant a long and steep race up perilously small steps. Occasionally the longer races would lead us to some hidden terrace along the mountains paths. After one such race I found myself wandering into a courtyard of Buddhist temples, hidden atop a particularly great staircase. I was surrounded by the drifting smoke of incense and bright golden statues, casual followers prostrated themselves on the ground while the chants of devout monks sounded from an unseen room. The greatest statues were situated within their own temples, their hands carefully intertwined or extended to personify their enlightened state. My Chinese friend Alex found me sitting on a bench observing a particularly large group of small Buddha statues. "Those are the thousand Buddhas," he said. "Ancient legend hold a story for them, that they were first created by a student of a great Buddhist master. The master had told both his students that their last task was to create a great artistic masterpiece, and that the one with the most profound art would be allowed to take their place amongst the masters. They had ten years. Finally, when ten years had passed the students returned to their teacher.
'What have you created?' he asked the first. 'A giant Buddha, magnificent in size.' 'And you?' he asked to second. 'I have created one thousand Buddha's, magnificent in number.' The teacher contemplated this and then awarded the second the title of master. "A thousand is much better than just one!'
In his agony, the first student thrust himself off his giant statue, unable to bear his failure. Having heard of the suicide, the teacher visited each of their creations and was astounded at the size of the first student's Buddha. What have I done? he thought, this is truly more magnificent than one thousand small statues. But it was too late."
I sat thinking about this for a while and was a bit confused. Isn't ten thousand Buddha's also good? "Yes," he said, "but you must go to Leshan and see the giant Buddha to understand. The giant Buddha there is too big to describe." This didn't make me feel much better as I had had several opportunities to go to see this statue, it being not far from Chengdu, but had failed to do so each time.
When we eventually reached the peak of Cuiping mountain we found stone benches atop a patio, several feet before us the ground descended quickly to the city far below. Behind us, a giant pagoda extended high above the mountain, where it could be seen from any point in Yibin, a symbol of its ancient past. Normally these buildings indicated that a great burial had taken place, and that the pagoda had been set up atop the burning remains to prevent evil spirits from getting in, or out. It's place high on the mountain was also closely associated with the concept of Feng Shui, which held that the precise direction of a burial ground, and the location of the mountains, was essential for warding off spirits.
Down below, the Yangtze river could be seen navigating its way through the city. It's path cut the city in three halves- the northern shore, the city center and the Yibin college campus where I live. Great bridges allow passage from one side to the other, below them giant shipyards constantly work to despatch cargo boats to Chongqing or Shanghai, the last city along the Yantze. From my perch I gazed at the hulls of modern Chinese ships racing across the river, dwarfed sampans still drift back and forth in their wake, another small remnant of ancient China. At night both the great cargo ships and the small sampans will give off faint red or green lights to warn of their passage, illuminating the Yangtze in an almost Christmas-like glow.
We arrived at the bottom later that afternoon, tired and sweating from the intense heat. Before we completed our journey, however, I had one more chance to attempt a potentially catastrophic feat. It had been at a large pond sitting at the foot of the mountain. Although it was man made several of the locals took to using it for fishing or for relaxing by a water body. It was large enough that many different crowds were well spread out amongst the pond's bends and curves. At one point, lying back against the side of the mountain, twelve large animal statues lay personifying the twelve zodiac symbols. To my dismay my animal was not on the side of the pond's shore but lay at least a dozen feet inside the ponds circumfrence, on a small island connected only by stepping stones. Feeling lucky I made my way across the pond, carefully stepping from one stone to the next, particularly careful not to slip on the stones fully submerged underwater. Halfway to my destination, however, I felt keenly aware of how easily I had brushed off the consequences of falling headfirst into the pond. It would not have been a pretty site, and there would have been little "face" left for many months I am sure. Arriving at the island I took some brief photo's standing next to my symbol, the ox, and once satisfied made my way back. Afterwords I breathed a long and heavy sigh that I had made it unscathed. At the time I felt like master of ponds, which then seemed like a more impressive title, and I even had a photo to prove what I had done! Feeling proud and arrogant I looked at my friends camera to check if it looked even remotely as interesting as I thought. The photo had not come out.
Two weeks later I am lounging at my desk, sounds of heavy rainfall can be heard from outside. It is National Day, October 1st, and undoubtedly there are parades and celebrations all over Yibin to welcome the 61st birthday of modern China. I am delaying the inevitable amount of cleaning I must do before several of my friends arrive. National Day, the equivalent of our July 4th, means a week off from classes, and I am anxious to show friends around the city.
Switching to the main news stations I find Beijings National Day commemoration ceremony-huge, well orchestrated marches on the main square, its magnitude difficult to describe in words. Occassionally these celebrations are interrupted with pictures of Hua Mei（华美）, the baby panda (pander, if you want to use the local dialect), just born in Sichuan province. His name literally meaning China-America, and as a baby panda he gets alot of attention, not least because Sichuan has most of the world's pandas, and because their mating habits make them particularly bad breeders.
Now I must get on with my day. Though watching pandas is certainly entertaining it will not get the dishes any cleaner. I hope any of you reading this will have a happy National Day and/or enjoy whatever particular event is happening right now in the U.S.! 再见！
祝你国庆节快乐！
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Limbo
Jeremy has a good life. He spends his evenings roaming his ample spaced apartment sitting with friends and scrounging for food. Nobody bothers him; the dimly lit rooms protect his sensitive eyes and hide him from intruders.
But now Jeremy is dead, his remains long since removed from this place. Why might you ask? I will gladly share: because Jeremy is a roach, and because I really hate roaches. In the two months since my new apartment has been inhabited the place has become a haven for them, and I have spent considerable time and effort over the past week waging war against their kind, even going so far as to go on hands and knees to jab them with my chopsticks. As a result my efforts seem to have paid off, the apartment finally appears clean and I am starting to feel settled in.
However, having all this cleaning and unpacking completed has left me with a great deal of time. Classes will not begin until the thirteenth of the month and much of my time now is spent reading on my balcony. It is a great relief after an intensive two months of summer training in Chengdu, but it is also a time of relative sadness as I am no longer busy with classroom chores or in visiting Chengdu sites with friends.
Instead I wander the campus and observe some of the habits of Chinese students in Yibin. There are plenty of student activities to keep my attention as many of them have also arrived early, the freshman for military training and the older students to prepare for classes. In the early hours of the week freshman students line the sports fields and basketball courts in droves, literally thousands of them in military formation and uniform. They sing, march, exercise and learn drills from the local military officials who have come to train them. It is the third routine of this kind that they will perform in their early lives: the first being before middle school and the second before high school. Older students have no such obligations and wander the campus holding hands with their girlfriends/boyfriends and getting together again with old friends. Earlier in the week these students had sat in tents welcoming the newer students to their respective majors. The sponsors of the event, a local phone company, had matching tents and performance stages set up around the entire college. In those first few days the campus had sprung to life in a way neither Chris nor I could have imagined just days before. It didn't last long though, by mid-week these ceremonies had begun to die down and students are beginning to settle in.
Now the campus grounds are filled with students still dressed in military uniform or their own unique styles of college clothing. For women this style can mean a traditional summer dress as we often find in the U.S., but non-traditional outfits cannot be in any way compared to our own. Keeping in mind that I am in no way knowledgeable about clothing styles or fashion, styles for girls can range from overalls with shorts in place of pants to a form of jeans/Barby skirt and dress shirt all rolled into one, with many variations in between, especially in color. For guys the style is far more simple-jeans and shirt or some sort of sportswear, though of course the guys have also been known to find styles which may seem strange to the western eye. Walking amongst these fashionable youths I try to pinpoint other differences in this campus from those in the U.S.: dogs wandering the campus with no identifiable owner, children and old retirees of various ages relaxing on the campus benches (colleges in China are much more community oriented than the U.S. and are sometimes interchangeable with parks), large rocks with Chinese poems carved into them, ping pong tables, large red banners with encouraging slogans. But for all its differences it has many similar features to universities back home as well: basketball courts, huge track fields, dorms, campus shops and green areas for the students to study. The layout is well planned and from the front gate it is a beautiful campus to look upon. At the opposite side of the gate I can see a large clock extending from the top of the main education building. At noon it will chime twelve times with a preceding jingle that might sound familiar in the U.S.
The stroll from one gate of campus to the other is not easy. Most of the university rests upon the side of a small mountain. The Fine Arts buildings and library rest at the peak and in the far back of the campus (not encouraging to my studies), and from there the university slopes steeply down, stopping at one other main platform before finally reaching the ground level closer to the front gate. In fact, the steps leading down from my own office are so steep that my estimate put the steps at at least five hundred. My own apartment rests at ground level along with most of the campus supermarkets and tea shops. Fortunately for me and my Irish skin, the campus is also lined with many long trunked tree’s which protect the school’s trails and narrow roads from the hot sun. The campus walls also protect its inhabitants from the berserk traffic noises, a factor for which I am deeply grateful.
Outside of campus Chris and I were able to find several new interesting sites. On the weekends the center city area is filled with shops, both inside and out, and most necessary things can be found there. Outside shops can take up entire streets and since vendors will bargain with you it is a significantly better place to shop. Our host families were also kind enough to guide us to a nearby mountain where townspeople often go for a walk or run. At the pinnacle you can see all of Yibin from a small tea house. There, old retirees sit together laughing about old times while playing mahjong and breathing in the fine mountain air. The respite in this place from noise and air pollution has made this perhaps one of my favorite places in Yibin.
My own apartment also offers its own sites: from the balcony ledge I can observe elderly men and women doing Tai Qi (Chinese martial arts) and cicadas humming in the trees. Men work to bring bricks from one pile to another for an undisclosed reason. Campus’s such as these often seem like a sanctuary to foreigners, a place where we can get away from the rush of the city and the stares from passersby. I will spend this last week before classes sitting on the balcony and letting the sounds drift up to my apartment. It feels a bit like limbo with all this time on my hands, though it has proved useful in settling in. Things are clean now, and Jeremy is dead. Good riddance.
For those of you interested I now have a mailing address. Please continue to leave your mailing addresses to help me stay in touch!
MAILING ADDRESS
Leo C. Dorsey
Foreign Affairs Department
Yibin University, Jiu Sheng Road 8
Wu Liangye Ave, Yibin, Sichuan Province
644007
四川省宜宾市五粮液大道酒圣路8号宜宾学院外事处。644007
But now Jeremy is dead, his remains long since removed from this place. Why might you ask? I will gladly share: because Jeremy is a roach, and because I really hate roaches. In the two months since my new apartment has been inhabited the place has become a haven for them, and I have spent considerable time and effort over the past week waging war against their kind, even going so far as to go on hands and knees to jab them with my chopsticks. As a result my efforts seem to have paid off, the apartment finally appears clean and I am starting to feel settled in.
However, having all this cleaning and unpacking completed has left me with a great deal of time. Classes will not begin until the thirteenth of the month and much of my time now is spent reading on my balcony. It is a great relief after an intensive two months of summer training in Chengdu, but it is also a time of relative sadness as I am no longer busy with classroom chores or in visiting Chengdu sites with friends.
Instead I wander the campus and observe some of the habits of Chinese students in Yibin. There are plenty of student activities to keep my attention as many of them have also arrived early, the freshman for military training and the older students to prepare for classes. In the early hours of the week freshman students line the sports fields and basketball courts in droves, literally thousands of them in military formation and uniform. They sing, march, exercise and learn drills from the local military officials who have come to train them. It is the third routine of this kind that they will perform in their early lives: the first being before middle school and the second before high school. Older students have no such obligations and wander the campus holding hands with their girlfriends/boyfriends and getting together again with old friends. Earlier in the week these students had sat in tents welcoming the newer students to their respective majors. The sponsors of the event, a local phone company, had matching tents and performance stages set up around the entire college. In those first few days the campus had sprung to life in a way neither Chris nor I could have imagined just days before. It didn't last long though, by mid-week these ceremonies had begun to die down and students are beginning to settle in.
Now the campus grounds are filled with students still dressed in military uniform or their own unique styles of college clothing. For women this style can mean a traditional summer dress as we often find in the U.S., but non-traditional outfits cannot be in any way compared to our own. Keeping in mind that I am in no way knowledgeable about clothing styles or fashion, styles for girls can range from overalls with shorts in place of pants to a form of jeans/Barby skirt and dress shirt all rolled into one, with many variations in between, especially in color. For guys the style is far more simple-jeans and shirt or some sort of sportswear, though of course the guys have also been known to find styles which may seem strange to the western eye. Walking amongst these fashionable youths I try to pinpoint other differences in this campus from those in the U.S.: dogs wandering the campus with no identifiable owner, children and old retirees of various ages relaxing on the campus benches (colleges in China are much more community oriented than the U.S. and are sometimes interchangeable with parks), large rocks with Chinese poems carved into them, ping pong tables, large red banners with encouraging slogans. But for all its differences it has many similar features to universities back home as well: basketball courts, huge track fields, dorms, campus shops and green areas for the students to study. The layout is well planned and from the front gate it is a beautiful campus to look upon. At the opposite side of the gate I can see a large clock extending from the top of the main education building. At noon it will chime twelve times with a preceding jingle that might sound familiar in the U.S.
The stroll from one gate of campus to the other is not easy. Most of the university rests upon the side of a small mountain. The Fine Arts buildings and library rest at the peak and in the far back of the campus (not encouraging to my studies), and from there the university slopes steeply down, stopping at one other main platform before finally reaching the ground level closer to the front gate. In fact, the steps leading down from my own office are so steep that my estimate put the steps at at least five hundred. My own apartment rests at ground level along with most of the campus supermarkets and tea shops. Fortunately for me and my Irish skin, the campus is also lined with many long trunked tree’s which protect the school’s trails and narrow roads from the hot sun. The campus walls also protect its inhabitants from the berserk traffic noises, a factor for which I am deeply grateful.
Outside of campus Chris and I were able to find several new interesting sites. On the weekends the center city area is filled with shops, both inside and out, and most necessary things can be found there. Outside shops can take up entire streets and since vendors will bargain with you it is a significantly better place to shop. Our host families were also kind enough to guide us to a nearby mountain where townspeople often go for a walk or run. At the pinnacle you can see all of Yibin from a small tea house. There, old retirees sit together laughing about old times while playing mahjong and breathing in the fine mountain air. The respite in this place from noise and air pollution has made this perhaps one of my favorite places in Yibin.
My own apartment also offers its own sites: from the balcony ledge I can observe elderly men and women doing Tai Qi (Chinese martial arts) and cicadas humming in the trees. Men work to bring bricks from one pile to another for an undisclosed reason. Campus’s such as these often seem like a sanctuary to foreigners, a place where we can get away from the rush of the city and the stares from passersby. I will spend this last week before classes sitting on the balcony and letting the sounds drift up to my apartment. It feels a bit like limbo with all this time on my hands, though it has proved useful in settling in. Things are clean now, and Jeremy is dead. Good riddance.
For those of you interested I now have a mailing address. Please continue to leave your mailing addresses to help me stay in touch!
MAILING ADDRESS
Leo C. Dorsey
Foreign Affairs Department
Yibin University, Jiu Sheng Road 8
Wu Liangye Ave, Yibin, Sichuan Province
644007
四川省宜宾市五粮液大道酒圣路8号宜宾学院外事处。644007
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Say Goodbye to Chengdu
I woke during the early hours of this morning with a sudden rush; loud banging noises could be heard from right outside my window. My mind raced with possibilities: either there had been an earthquake or the Chinese scaffolding men had begun their work. It turned out to be the latter. I couldn’t complain, however, for the first time in almost two months I was waking up in my own bed, in my own apartment and at my own placement site.
Chris and I departed yesterday with our own personal escort as members of the Yibin University Foreign Affairs office had personally arrived to take us back. With their help we lugged all of our possessions into a black sedan and waved goodbye to our fellow volunteers and the city of Chengdu.
It was not easy saying goodbye. Many of us would be at sites by ourselves, or with a site mate we did not entirely know. For two months we had shared many experiences with our fellow volunteers, sharing stories and confiding in each other’s frustrations while in a new environment. Many of us had become very close and it would not be easy to see that all slip away once more.
Our joint nostalgia was compounded by the fact that we had spent our last week in Chengdu together. All four groups, which had previously been separate, were joined together again at a hotel in center city. From Tuesday to Friday we completed many last minute seminars and ceremonial activities, including a swearing in ceremony lead by the Charge D’Affairs, or the Deputy Ambassador, of the U.S. Embassy to China. Also in attendance were the Ambassador for the Shanghai Expo and the Consul General of the Chengdu Consulate. During the ceremony, many of us showed off our Qi Paos and Tang Zhuangs, these being the male and female Chinese silk outfits used ceremoniously for centuries throughout China. My own Chinese silk jacket was black, with many golden dragons racing along the back and front. The cuffs were burgundy red and its collar extended slightly above my shoulders. Each color had its own meaning, though I had not personally considered it much before I chose it. Traditionally, however, black meant mourning, and I have had to explain several times that I chose it due to its popularity among Chinese pop-stars, and because I thought the color looked better than purple (sorry Fred).
The swearing in ceremony turned out to be an excellent time to ask questions to the honored guests. Soon after the Deputy Ambassador had read us our duties, many of us were anxious to inquire about the Shanghai Expo and U.S.-China relations.
“Have you had any heartening experiences during the Shanghai Expo?” asked one of the volunteers. “Every day,” responded the Shanghai Expo Ambassador. He then explained an instance when a very young rural girl had been videotaped inside one of the exhibitions. The girl had been given a new home in Shanghai after her home was lost during an earthquake. After her picture reached the web, Chinese netizens, a term used to describe the enormous amount of Chinese net surfers, soon dubbed her the prettiest Chinese girl in China. She later told the press that her favorite exhibition was that of the U.S.
I was anxious to ask my own questions regarding U.S.-China relations and soon after addressed the deputy ambassador on how he felt the Peace Corps had influenced relations between the two nations. I was surprised and honored to have three responses, one from the Deputy Ambassador, and two from the director of Peace Corps China and the Expo Ambassador. Each was passionate about the ability of Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCV) to influence America’s understanding of China, and also of current Peace Corps Volunteers ability to influence Chinese understandings of the U.S. This was in fact one of the major reasons why Peace Corps was in China and it was nice to hear that it was having an impact on diplomatic relations.
Following the swearing in ceremony each of the volunteers and honored guests proceeded to a large dining hall. While there, Peace Corps volunteers heard speeches from the Deputy Ambassador and the director of PC China herself. It was the final ceremony before we left for our host sites and many of us seemed slightly on edge. The hall was filled with teachers, administrators, guests and volunteers. Even the local media had arrived and asked to speak with some of the volunteers. Since it was a Peace Corps event, and many of our statements as PC volunteers were expected to represent those of the U.S. first and ourselves second, we had to be mindful of what we said. In the end two people were chosen to speak with the press, and since I had the prettiest Qi Pao I got to be one of them.
The interview was hectic and we were bombarded with questions: “What will you do after you leave Chengdu?” asked the first interviewer. “What do you think of your host city? Why did you wear a Qi Pao today? Can you speak Chinese?” My friend Katie D’Souza and I answered each question honestly and with a mixture of Chinese and English. Later they would ask us to speak entirely in Chinese, but at first we were rather nervous and they didn’t entirely expect us to know how.
Katie ran the show and answered all the questions in stride. I observed her with my jaw slightly open, unable to comprehend how she could handle herself so well. When they eventually got to me I stumbled a bit but got my basic points across: “I am going to Yibin to teach English and to help Chinese understand American culture. It is also important for us to understand Chinese culture.” The interviewer nodded his head and thrust his microphone closer. “What did you think of Yibin? Is there anything there that you particularly liked?” I nodded affirmatively. “Yibin had lots of nice things,” I responded, “the head of the Yangze, Bamboo Forests and…um…oh their Bai Jiu, it’s number one!” They laughed and afterwards I had time to think over my responses. My god, I thought, shaking my head, even Chinese think my jokes are corny.
After the ceremony ended we all gave our hugs and kisses and said goodbye. It was emotional but it was the 21st century; most of us had Skype and cell phones, and could stay within instant communication.
Now, back at my apartment, I am currently wondering how to reorganize my life. I have some minor apartment cleaning to do but nothing overwhelming. My major concern is buckling down, creating new lesson plans and continuing my studies of the Chinese language. The students are filtering back on to campus, arranging their class schedules and moving into their dorms. In just a few weeks classes will start and I will be their teacher. I hope that here, at this new site, I can meet just as many amazing people as I did in Chengdu.
A clip from the banquet:
http://v.ku6.com/show/EGeHFKmNf4Quitac.html
Chris and I departed yesterday with our own personal escort as members of the Yibin University Foreign Affairs office had personally arrived to take us back. With their help we lugged all of our possessions into a black sedan and waved goodbye to our fellow volunteers and the city of Chengdu.
It was not easy saying goodbye. Many of us would be at sites by ourselves, or with a site mate we did not entirely know. For two months we had shared many experiences with our fellow volunteers, sharing stories and confiding in each other’s frustrations while in a new environment. Many of us had become very close and it would not be easy to see that all slip away once more.
Our joint nostalgia was compounded by the fact that we had spent our last week in Chengdu together. All four groups, which had previously been separate, were joined together again at a hotel in center city. From Tuesday to Friday we completed many last minute seminars and ceremonial activities, including a swearing in ceremony lead by the Charge D’Affairs, or the Deputy Ambassador, of the U.S. Embassy to China. Also in attendance were the Ambassador for the Shanghai Expo and the Consul General of the Chengdu Consulate. During the ceremony, many of us showed off our Qi Paos and Tang Zhuangs, these being the male and female Chinese silk outfits used ceremoniously for centuries throughout China. My own Chinese silk jacket was black, with many golden dragons racing along the back and front. The cuffs were burgundy red and its collar extended slightly above my shoulders. Each color had its own meaning, though I had not personally considered it much before I chose it. Traditionally, however, black meant mourning, and I have had to explain several times that I chose it due to its popularity among Chinese pop-stars, and because I thought the color looked better than purple (sorry Fred).
The swearing in ceremony turned out to be an excellent time to ask questions to the honored guests. Soon after the Deputy Ambassador had read us our duties, many of us were anxious to inquire about the Shanghai Expo and U.S.-China relations.
“Have you had any heartening experiences during the Shanghai Expo?” asked one of the volunteers. “Every day,” responded the Shanghai Expo Ambassador. He then explained an instance when a very young rural girl had been videotaped inside one of the exhibitions. The girl had been given a new home in Shanghai after her home was lost during an earthquake. After her picture reached the web, Chinese netizens, a term used to describe the enormous amount of Chinese net surfers, soon dubbed her the prettiest Chinese girl in China. She later told the press that her favorite exhibition was that of the U.S.
I was anxious to ask my own questions regarding U.S.-China relations and soon after addressed the deputy ambassador on how he felt the Peace Corps had influenced relations between the two nations. I was surprised and honored to have three responses, one from the Deputy Ambassador, and two from the director of Peace Corps China and the Expo Ambassador. Each was passionate about the ability of Returned Peace Corps Volunteers (RPCV) to influence America’s understanding of China, and also of current Peace Corps Volunteers ability to influence Chinese understandings of the U.S. This was in fact one of the major reasons why Peace Corps was in China and it was nice to hear that it was having an impact on diplomatic relations.
Following the swearing in ceremony each of the volunteers and honored guests proceeded to a large dining hall. While there, Peace Corps volunteers heard speeches from the Deputy Ambassador and the director of PC China herself. It was the final ceremony before we left for our host sites and many of us seemed slightly on edge. The hall was filled with teachers, administrators, guests and volunteers. Even the local media had arrived and asked to speak with some of the volunteers. Since it was a Peace Corps event, and many of our statements as PC volunteers were expected to represent those of the U.S. first and ourselves second, we had to be mindful of what we said. In the end two people were chosen to speak with the press, and since I had the prettiest Qi Pao I got to be one of them.
The interview was hectic and we were bombarded with questions: “What will you do after you leave Chengdu?” asked the first interviewer. “What do you think of your host city? Why did you wear a Qi Pao today? Can you speak Chinese?” My friend Katie D’Souza and I answered each question honestly and with a mixture of Chinese and English. Later they would ask us to speak entirely in Chinese, but at first we were rather nervous and they didn’t entirely expect us to know how.
Katie ran the show and answered all the questions in stride. I observed her with my jaw slightly open, unable to comprehend how she could handle herself so well. When they eventually got to me I stumbled a bit but got my basic points across: “I am going to Yibin to teach English and to help Chinese understand American culture. It is also important for us to understand Chinese culture.” The interviewer nodded his head and thrust his microphone closer. “What did you think of Yibin? Is there anything there that you particularly liked?” I nodded affirmatively. “Yibin had lots of nice things,” I responded, “the head of the Yangze, Bamboo Forests and…um…oh their Bai Jiu, it’s number one!” They laughed and afterwards I had time to think over my responses. My god, I thought, shaking my head, even Chinese think my jokes are corny.
After the ceremony ended we all gave our hugs and kisses and said goodbye. It was emotional but it was the 21st century; most of us had Skype and cell phones, and could stay within instant communication.
Now, back at my apartment, I am currently wondering how to reorganize my life. I have some minor apartment cleaning to do but nothing overwhelming. My major concern is buckling down, creating new lesson plans and continuing my studies of the Chinese language. The students are filtering back on to campus, arranging their class schedules and moving into their dorms. In just a few weeks classes will start and I will be their teacher. I hope that here, at this new site, I can meet just as many amazing people as I did in Chengdu.
A clip from the banquet:
http://v.ku6.com/show/EGeHFKmNf4Quitac.html
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Journey to the South
Upon arriving in Yibin on Monday of last week, my fellow volunteer and I were pleasantly surprised to find a reasonably developed city located at the head of the Yangtze River. The heat was intense as Yibin is situated in a very humid/subtropical climate, but the nights were cool and such astounding temperatures are not expected to remain past August. We would remain there for one week, living with a Chinese host family and exploring the city.
My first impression of Yibin was that it was rather touristy. At least four sites were popular amongst Chinese-a stone and bamboo forest, a world class baijiu (Chinese alcohol) factory, the Yangtze and some popular cave areas. However the town is much more than that, at least in comparison to other touristy Chinese cities I have visited, and has developed fine schools and hospitals which appear to be boosting the cities growth as well.
My host family consisted of a 16 year old girl and her two parents. During the academic year the daughter heads to Chengdu to attend high school and has already achieved better English than my Chinese. Both the mother and father are professors at the city college where I will be teaching. The family was incredibly hospitable and I was grateful for all the kindness they showed me . Just as in Chengdu, it was nice to observe and become close to a traditional Chinese home.
We spent much of last week on the go. The family was anxious to show me any and all of what the city had to offer-the downtown shopping center, the baijiu factory, even Walmart, which they evidently believed was essential for us to be able to locate, and which I still can’t believe the city had.
As we toured the city I again felt like I was being given the royal treatment. The idea of me serving in the Peace Corps during the day and going to Walmart in the afternoon never entered my wildest imagination before I left, but I imagine that those luxuries would rarely enter my life during actual service. In fact visiting Yibin was a perfect time to reflect on how serving in this city would really feel, and what affect being alone and mostly isolated from American culture would actually have upon me. Besides one other fellow PC volunteer, only three other foreigners were known to live in the city-one British and two Japanese. For a city of roughly 1 million people, such a small number of foreigners indicated that we would be the subject of constant attention and countless stereotypes. I expected this, there are still a small number of foreigners in China overall, but it can get surprisingly nerve racking nonetheless.
While riding the bus through the city or strolling through the Yibin college campus, I chose not to dwell on the negative aspects of the next two years. The cultural barriers would just take getting used to, and anyway wasn’t this the reason why I came to Peace Corps in the first place? Two years is a long time, and I would learn so much during that period that frustrations would be worth the cost. I have no serious complaints and find myself lucky to have been placed in such an exciting city.
I returned to Chengdu yesterday, excited to see my PC friends again and ready to enjoy the last two weeks before our official completion of Peace Corps training. At dinner late last night, I gathered with my friends and each anxiously shared stories about their site. The excitement was palpable. We would finally be becoming Peace Corps volunteers in a remote city. After a full week without seeing them it felt strange to be back, and I had time to reflect on how few of these get-togethers we would have left. Our training was coming to an end. Our new journey was just beginning.
My first impression of Yibin was that it was rather touristy. At least four sites were popular amongst Chinese-a stone and bamboo forest, a world class baijiu (Chinese alcohol) factory, the Yangtze and some popular cave areas. However the town is much more than that, at least in comparison to other touristy Chinese cities I have visited, and has developed fine schools and hospitals which appear to be boosting the cities growth as well.
My host family consisted of a 16 year old girl and her two parents. During the academic year the daughter heads to Chengdu to attend high school and has already achieved better English than my Chinese. Both the mother and father are professors at the city college where I will be teaching. The family was incredibly hospitable and I was grateful for all the kindness they showed me . Just as in Chengdu, it was nice to observe and become close to a traditional Chinese home.
We spent much of last week on the go. The family was anxious to show me any and all of what the city had to offer-the downtown shopping center, the baijiu factory, even Walmart, which they evidently believed was essential for us to be able to locate, and which I still can’t believe the city had.
As we toured the city I again felt like I was being given the royal treatment. The idea of me serving in the Peace Corps during the day and going to Walmart in the afternoon never entered my wildest imagination before I left, but I imagine that those luxuries would rarely enter my life during actual service. In fact visiting Yibin was a perfect time to reflect on how serving in this city would really feel, and what affect being alone and mostly isolated from American culture would actually have upon me. Besides one other fellow PC volunteer, only three other foreigners were known to live in the city-one British and two Japanese. For a city of roughly 1 million people, such a small number of foreigners indicated that we would be the subject of constant attention and countless stereotypes. I expected this, there are still a small number of foreigners in China overall, but it can get surprisingly nerve racking nonetheless.
While riding the bus through the city or strolling through the Yibin college campus, I chose not to dwell on the negative aspects of the next two years. The cultural barriers would just take getting used to, and anyway wasn’t this the reason why I came to Peace Corps in the first place? Two years is a long time, and I would learn so much during that period that frustrations would be worth the cost. I have no serious complaints and find myself lucky to have been placed in such an exciting city.
I returned to Chengdu yesterday, excited to see my PC friends again and ready to enjoy the last two weeks before our official completion of Peace Corps training. At dinner late last night, I gathered with my friends and each anxiously shared stories about their site. The excitement was palpable. We would finally be becoming Peace Corps volunteers in a remote city. After a full week without seeing them it felt strange to be back, and I had time to reflect on how few of these get-togethers we would have left. Our training was coming to an end. Our new journey was just beginning.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Arrival!
I know, you don’t have to tell me. You’ve all been obsessing about my blog and itching for some kind of update on my trip so far. Well, where do I begin? First, I suppose I should apologize for taking so long. Google is still restricted here, and as I feared before leaving, it has made accessing this blog quite difficult. I’m also incredibly busy with pre-service training which can take up most of the day.
It has been a month since we arrived. I am here with roughly ninety other trainees in Chengdu, Sichuan, where for two months we enjoy intense courses on the Chinese language and English teacher training. Due to the size of our group (the largest yet in Peace Corps 16 years in China), the ninety of us have been split into four groups of about 20-25. Each group attends courses at a university around Chengdu and is placed with a Chinese host family apartment not far from that campus. Normally, we have class from 8:30-5 with morning classes on Saturdays.
The city itself is quite unlike any I have seen in China. For one thing, I have never seen such a mishmash of dogs in my life. And not just one kind of dog, but any dog you can imagine. And then, of course, never the same dog twice. This is in bright contrast to Beijing, where, if any dog exists it is within two feet long and officially licensed. I won’t comment on whether Chengdu dogs are licensed or not-I don’t really know- but there is certainly some question as to the ownership of a few hundred-thousand? dogs within this city.
Chengdu is also located within a basin, making it humid and muggy for the better part of the day. During the summer it can become particularly brutal and profuse sweat is not uncommon after short walks. The women of Chengdu (very beautiful, by the way), have adapted by carrying brightly colored umbrellas as a shield. The men of Chengdu, however, have not had a similar reaction and can often be seen resting their shirts on their bellies to relieve the sweat from their stomach-I am not quite sure this has proven to be an effective method of relieving heat but to each his own.
After classes, many of the campus students can be found playing mahjong or basketball. My own campus, Sichuan Normal University, is quite large and students can also be found playing soccer or ping pong on the large sports field.
My host family is a family of three- a mother and father of mid-30’s, and a seven year old son. I find them to be incredibly hospitable and have no complaints. The family is middle-income and resides in a neighborhood apartment complex also containing a pool and interconnected gardens. The living arrangements are also well furnished and comfortable. Before you ask why I am so comfortable, being a Peace Corps volunteer after all, I should mention that Peace Corps China is not the typical Peace Corps experience and should not be compared to huts in Africa. Without going into too much detail, we are expected to be college educators and so are given living arrangements to fit into the community as such. As with any other site in the world which Peace Corps serves, China volunteers are given a meager income which allows us to live at the standards of other members of our community.
Also, most importantly, as of yesterday I am finally aware of my placement site-Yibin. Yibin is at the head of the Yangtze River and located 4-5 hours southwest of Chengdu. The city is known for its Bamboo Forest and several famous caves. I am very excited about my placement sit and could not have hoped for a better city. For those of you interested, I will finally be able to provide a specific address in just a few days.
That’s all for now! I hope this blog post was able to alleviate some of your extreme anticipations about my trip. I’ll attempt to be more frequent in future posts and include some pics of my future site.
Take care,
Leo
It has been a month since we arrived. I am here with roughly ninety other trainees in Chengdu, Sichuan, where for two months we enjoy intense courses on the Chinese language and English teacher training. Due to the size of our group (the largest yet in Peace Corps 16 years in China), the ninety of us have been split into four groups of about 20-25. Each group attends courses at a university around Chengdu and is placed with a Chinese host family apartment not far from that campus. Normally, we have class from 8:30-5 with morning classes on Saturdays.
The city itself is quite unlike any I have seen in China. For one thing, I have never seen such a mishmash of dogs in my life. And not just one kind of dog, but any dog you can imagine. And then, of course, never the same dog twice. This is in bright contrast to Beijing, where, if any dog exists it is within two feet long and officially licensed. I won’t comment on whether Chengdu dogs are licensed or not-I don’t really know- but there is certainly some question as to the ownership of a few hundred-thousand? dogs within this city.
Chengdu is also located within a basin, making it humid and muggy for the better part of the day. During the summer it can become particularly brutal and profuse sweat is not uncommon after short walks. The women of Chengdu (very beautiful, by the way), have adapted by carrying brightly colored umbrellas as a shield. The men of Chengdu, however, have not had a similar reaction and can often be seen resting their shirts on their bellies to relieve the sweat from their stomach-I am not quite sure this has proven to be an effective method of relieving heat but to each his own.
After classes, many of the campus students can be found playing mahjong or basketball. My own campus, Sichuan Normal University, is quite large and students can also be found playing soccer or ping pong on the large sports field.
My host family is a family of three- a mother and father of mid-30’s, and a seven year old son. I find them to be incredibly hospitable and have no complaints. The family is middle-income and resides in a neighborhood apartment complex also containing a pool and interconnected gardens. The living arrangements are also well furnished and comfortable. Before you ask why I am so comfortable, being a Peace Corps volunteer after all, I should mention that Peace Corps China is not the typical Peace Corps experience and should not be compared to huts in Africa. Without going into too much detail, we are expected to be college educators and so are given living arrangements to fit into the community as such. As with any other site in the world which Peace Corps serves, China volunteers are given a meager income which allows us to live at the standards of other members of our community.
Also, most importantly, as of yesterday I am finally aware of my placement site-Yibin. Yibin is at the head of the Yangtze River and located 4-5 hours southwest of Chengdu. The city is known for its Bamboo Forest and several famous caves. I am very excited about my placement sit and could not have hoped for a better city. For those of you interested, I will finally be able to provide a specific address in just a few days.
That’s all for now! I hope this blog post was able to alleviate some of your extreme anticipations about my trip. I’ll attempt to be more frequent in future posts and include some pics of my future site.
Take care,
Leo
Monday, June 14, 2010
15 Days Before Departure
As I make my final preparations before leaving I should note that my access to this blog may be limited due to Google's recent problems in China. In order for me to stay in touch with some of you, please be sure to give me your mailing address before I leave.
Thanks and I hope that I will be able to stay in touch with all of you throughout my stay in China.
-Leo
Thanks and I hope that I will be able to stay in touch with all of you throughout my stay in China.
-Leo
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