Monday, July 03, 2006
Year's End
[I actually wrote this post last July before I left but I didn't have enough time to proofread it or add a lot pictures, but I will publish it here anyways. Take it for what it's worth. JP]
It's been a while since I've written here. My apologies to you, the faithful few who continue to check this blog. Anyways, the last few months have been so full and strange and at the same time it feels as if it has simply been life as usual. You know you've been in China too long when there is nothing strange about the chicken in the clothing store or the child squatting to pee on the sidewalk through the split in the back of his pants. (The split-back pants replace the diaper here at a very young age. It's a form of potty training, but it makes holding a baby as exhilarating as holding a time bomb). So let me take a few minutes here and catch you up on some of the happening of the last few months.
Changsha, Hunan
My friend Krissy Solomon (who came to visit when Bryan and I went to Shanghai last fall) has spent the last year teaching in Changsha (in Hunan province). It is located south and west of Shaoxing, in the middle of the country, a seventeen-hour train ride away. It is known—for good reason—as “the Oven” for its temperature in summer; it is also the birthplace of Chairman Mao. I took two trips to Changsha this semester, one in March and anoth
er just a week ago. So you ask, besides the heat and Mao Zedong, what is the great draw of Changsha? Well, it has the largest concentration of Minnesotans I've found in all of China. (Sometimes you just need to reminisce about hotdish, don't you know?) There is an informal connection between one of the colleges in Changsha and St. John's/St. Ben's. In fact, this university offered me a job two years ago, right after I graduated. I forgot all about this until I was there. During my first trip there, my good friend Anesh Patel was also in Changsha visiting his fiancé, Maytsua, who was teaching there. Anesh was on his way home from teaching in India and was vacationing in Hunan.
There were many highlights from the two trips, but the best part had to be visiting not one but the two Wal-Marts in town. I was amazed to see them; they look almost the same as in the US, with the exception of the live frogs and snakes. I didn't buy anything there, except for a couple of bottles of Samuel Adam's beer, and boy was that a treat. On the second trip there I went with Krissy to help teach two of her kindergarten classes. The kids were about three years old. The first class just stood in stunned silence looking at me 
(until one of them started to do karate at me, then the other followed). The second class all ran up to me, trying to touch or hug my legs. They started calling me “wai guo gege” (外国哥哥) which means “foreign country older brother,” or more accurately “barbarian brother.” It was quite funny. I played a game with them and gave them candy. I enjoyed it but I don't think I could teach kids that age all the time.
Teaching
I have been unemployed for about three weeks and am going a little batty, so I have decided to break my contract in as many ways as I can this week. I am prohibited from working outside the school without their permission, but I am assured that many people do it anyways. So this week I am teaching primary school students in the mornings and afternoons at a special summer school, I am running a couple English Corners for adults in the evening, and in my free time I am tutoring a private student. It is a sprint to the end to save my sanity and my bank account. So am I worried about flagrantly boasting about my illicit teaching activities on the internet? Not at all, I'm proud to say this blog has been censored in China. No one inside the country can read it.
Yesterday, Sunday, I “taught” my first class of primary students. After traveling for nearly an hour in stifling heat and climbing eight flights of steps to reach the school, I was ushered into a small room with about 15 students and 15 parents. I hadn't prepared anything to teach, nor had I been told what to expect. So after a brief introduction, I was told the students would introduce themselves and I would ask them some simple questions. What actually happen was each student came up said his or her name and the school he or she went to, then I would ask one or two very simple questions about age, school, or family, which they would usually answer with only a word or two. Afterwards, I was told to go around the room and give my analysis of each student based on their two word answers. I told the head of the school, who was in the class with me, that I couldn't possible give an analysis of each student with so little interaction with them. I was then told make something up and he would translate it into Chinese for the parents. I then realize what I really was, a status symbol for the school, so the head could point to me and say “look we have a real foreign expert!” I left feeling dirty and used. I have another class later this morning, I interested to see if I'm will get more “creative control” or if I will remain just another pretty face.
The Bucket
I bought a bucket last week, a blue one, plastic, for household chores and other random tasks. I bought it a shop down the street from my house and on the way back home I stopped at the wet market to buy some vegetables and meat for dinner. Now Shaoxing is a fairly large city and people are not too surprised to see an occasional foreigner walking down the main street or shopping at one of large supermarkets, but it still comes as a shock to see one walking through the aisles of fresh fruit, vegetables and meat of the wet market. As if this were one of the last refuges of pure China, the starting place of the famous Chinese dishes. Foreigners are still few and far between here. I go to this market at least a few times a month and some of the vendors know me, but I still get open mouthed-stares from most of the patrons. That day it was especially true. I loved watching the mental process of people trying to 
understand the strange image of a lao wai (foreigner) with a blue bucket. “What is he doing here? Why does he have a blue bucket? Is his presence here more confounding than the bucket, or since I do not expect to see him at all, should the bucket surprise me at all? Why wouldn't he have a bucket if he were here?…” Some people are so shocked by the general appearance of foreigners that it would have made little difference if I had been wearing the bucket on my head. I still would have gotten those same stares of disbelief. It always fun “freaking out the squares” as Stefan used to call it.
The Birthday
The morning of June 24th found me in a windowless hotel room with two Brazilians in sketchy part of Shanghai. I had gone the day before with some friends to give our friend, Erben, a farewell/bachelor party as he was leaving for the states to get married that day. The party was a bit of a bust since I spent all my money just paying cover charges to get into the trendiest bars in town (and once I got in, I stood out even more than I do in the streets of Shaoxing). Most of my birthday was spent wandering the hot streets of Shanghai; I didn't return to Shaoxing until 10 pm that night. I thought the day was going to be a bust, but my friends pull through in true style. I went with a small group of people to my friend Wilda's teahouse/bar. There we had a few drinks and a late dinner. However, word had gotten out that it was my birthday and more people continued to call and show up. 
Before the night was over, we had packed the teahouse and drank all the cold beer. Wilda had even bought me a small cake, which Claudio smeared across my face—Wilda later confirmed that this was a Chinese tradition. I think they may have been in cahoots. It turned out to be a great night that ended shortly before 8 am after we had searched the streets of Shaoxing for a good breakfast vendor.
It's been a while since I've written here. My apologies to you, the faithful few who continue to check this blog. Anyways, the last few months have been so full and strange and at the same time it feels as if it has simply been life as usual. You know you've been in China too long when there is nothing strange about the chicken in the clothing store or the child squatting to pee on the sidewalk through the split in the back of his pants. (The split-back pants replace the diaper here at a very young age. It's a form of potty training, but it makes holding a baby as exhilarating as holding a time bomb). So let me take a few minutes here and catch you up on some of the happening of the last few months.
Changsha, Hunan
My friend Krissy Solomon (who came to visit when Bryan and I went to Shanghai last fall) has spent the last year teaching in Changsha (in Hunan province). It is located south and west of Shaoxing, in the middle of the country, a seventeen-hour train ride away. It is known—for good reason—as “the Oven” for its temperature in summer; it is also the birthplace of Chairman Mao. I took two trips to Changsha this semester, one in March and anoth
er just a week ago. So you ask, besides the heat and Mao Zedong, what is the great draw of Changsha? Well, it has the largest concentration of Minnesotans I've found in all of China. (Sometimes you just need to reminisce about hotdish, don't you know?) There is an informal connection between one of the colleges in Changsha and St. John's/St. Ben's. In fact, this university offered me a job two years ago, right after I graduated. I forgot all about this until I was there. During my first trip there, my good friend Anesh Patel was also in Changsha visiting his fiancé, Maytsua, who was teaching there. Anesh was on his way home from teaching in India and was vacationing in Hunan.
There were many highlights from the two trips, but the best part had to be visiting not one but the two Wal-Marts in town. I was amazed to see them; they look almost the same as in the US, with the exception of the live frogs and snakes. I didn't buy anything there, except for a couple of bottles of Samuel Adam's beer, and boy was that a treat. On the second trip there I went with Krissy to help teach two of her kindergarten classes. The kids were about three years old. The first class just stood in stunned silence looking at me 
(until one of them started to do karate at me, then the other followed). The second class all ran up to me, trying to touch or hug my legs. They started calling me “wai guo gege” (外国哥哥) which means “foreign country older brother,” or more accurately “barbarian brother.” It was quite funny. I played a game with them and gave them candy. I enjoyed it but I don't think I could teach kids that age all the time.Teaching
I have been unemployed for about three weeks and am going a little batty, so I have decided to break my contract in as many ways as I can this week. I am prohibited from working outside the school without their permission, but I am assured that many people do it anyways. So this week I am teaching primary school students in the mornings and afternoons at a special summer school, I am running a couple English Corners for adults in the evening, and in my free time I am tutoring a private student. It is a sprint to the end to save my sanity and my bank account. So am I worried about flagrantly boasting about my illicit teaching activities on the internet? Not at all, I'm proud to say this blog has been censored in China. No one inside the country can read it.
Yesterday, Sunday, I “taught” my first class of primary students. After traveling for nearly an hour in stifling heat and climbing eight flights of steps to reach the school, I was ushered into a small room with about 15 students and 15 parents. I hadn't prepared anything to teach, nor had I been told what to expect. So after a brief introduction, I was told the students would introduce themselves and I would ask them some simple questions. What actually happen was each student came up said his or her name and the school he or she went to, then I would ask one or two very simple questions about age, school, or family, which they would usually answer with only a word or two. Afterwards, I was told to go around the room and give my analysis of each student based on their two word answers. I told the head of the school, who was in the class with me, that I couldn't possible give an analysis of each student with so little interaction with them. I was then told make something up and he would translate it into Chinese for the parents. I then realize what I really was, a status symbol for the school, so the head could point to me and say “look we have a real foreign expert!” I left feeling dirty and used. I have another class later this morning, I interested to see if I'm will get more “creative control” or if I will remain just another pretty face.
The Bucket
I bought a bucket last week, a blue one, plastic, for household chores and other random tasks. I bought it a shop down the street from my house and on the way back home I stopped at the wet market to buy some vegetables and meat for dinner. Now Shaoxing is a fairly large city and people are not too surprised to see an occasional foreigner walking down the main street or shopping at one of large supermarkets, but it still comes as a shock to see one walking through the aisles of fresh fruit, vegetables and meat of the wet market. As if this were one of the last refuges of pure China, the starting place of the famous Chinese dishes. Foreigners are still few and far between here. I go to this market at least a few times a month and some of the vendors know me, but I still get open mouthed-stares from most of the patrons. That day it was especially true. I loved watching the mental process of people trying to 
understand the strange image of a lao wai (foreigner) with a blue bucket. “What is he doing here? Why does he have a blue bucket? Is his presence here more confounding than the bucket, or since I do not expect to see him at all, should the bucket surprise me at all? Why wouldn't he have a bucket if he were here?…” Some people are so shocked by the general appearance of foreigners that it would have made little difference if I had been wearing the bucket on my head. I still would have gotten those same stares of disbelief. It always fun “freaking out the squares” as Stefan used to call it.The Birthday
The morning of June 24th found me in a windowless hotel room with two Brazilians in sketchy part of Shanghai. I had gone the day before with some friends to give our friend, Erben, a farewell/bachelor party as he was leaving for the states to get married that day. The party was a bit of a bust since I spent all my money just paying cover charges to get into the trendiest bars in town (and once I got in, I stood out even more than I do in the streets of Shaoxing). Most of my birthday was spent wandering the hot streets of Shanghai; I didn't return to Shaoxing until 10 pm that night. I thought the day was going to be a bust, but my friends pull through in true style. I went with a small group of people to my friend Wilda's teahouse/bar. There we had a few drinks and a late dinner. However, word had gotten out that it was my birthday and more people continued to call and show up. 
Before the night was over, we had packed the teahouse and drank all the cold beer. Wilda had even bought me a small cake, which Claudio smeared across my face—Wilda later confirmed that this was a Chinese tradition. I think they may have been in cahoots. It turned out to be a great night that ended shortly before 8 am after we had searched the streets of Shaoxing for a good breakfast vendor.
