One week ago, the principals, vice principals, and a spattering of teachers from our schools came to Lincang’s for three days to participate in CEI’s not-so-accurately-titled “Principals’ Week.” The purpose of this, to my understanding, was to allow us fellows to form a solid foundation for understanding and working with our school staff. Of course, what actually emerged from our time together were a series of incredibly awkward and frustrating interactions interspersed with moments of hilarity. Since arriving in Heqing, I’ve continued to find myself in very interesting (and sometimes very awkward) situations. I’ve learned a lot about Chinese culture, American culture, my current limitations, and a host of other topics I can’t name separately right now.
At any rate, I think the best way to illustrate my recent activity is through a series of short stories. Please enjoy.
The Power of the Juice Cup
Last Monday afternoon/evening, the day before most of the Lincang folks departed for their schools, the Lincang Educational Bureau sponsored a “Beer Party” for CEI and the staff of our placement schools. No, don’t think Oktoberfest. However, there was a fair amount of beer and a fair amount of “ganbei”-ing (the Chinese equivalent of toasts which, when properly executed, necessitates emptying one’s glass entirely). During dinner, the drinking and toasts continued. Drinking is a very important social thing here in China, but, as a woman I am luckily much less pressured towards consuming copious amounts of alcohol than my testosterone-laden companions. This does not mean I am exempt from participating in toasts, and by the end of the evening toasts had been made by basically every principal of every school to every other principal (and the table where he was sitting).
At the time of each toast, whoever was offering it would go around pouring beer into eggcup sized glasses (Chinese teacups, for those who are familiar). The only way to avoid being “beered,” as it were, was to have a cup full of something else. This is where juice saved the day.
Although I was not hugely enjoying the unidentifiable-except-for-sugar flavor of juice on our table, I greatly enjoyed being able to partake in all of toasts without drinking what would likely have amounted to at least 4-5 cups of beer. For those properly gambei-ing, and thus finishing a cup with each toast, I hesitate to imagine the number of beers sloshing around their stomachs by night’s end.
So, a word to the wise (or at least those with low alcohol tolerances). When it comes to Chinese parties, remember always the Power of the Juice Cup.
Americans will be Americans
Monday night was the last that we CEI fellows had together before setting off for our schools. I had originally thought, despite it being our last night, that we’d have a relatively chill evening—perhaps watching a movie or something along those lines—because Tuesday morning we still had events and meetings going on.
Nope.
Instead, most of the American fellows, a number of Chinese fellows, and quite a few staff members ended up going out, hanging at a bar, and playing the eccentric mix of American and Chinese drinking games that tend to typify our group in the same way as Chinglish. Later that evening, CEI managed to take over the bar’s (very small) dance space. The locals were mostly amused, luckily, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Bars and dance spaces aren’t usually my thing, and I’m not the only one in CEI who wouldn’t normally find him or herself out until 1:30 AM before having to get up at 6:30 AM the following morning, but there was just a feeling of abandon in the air. For all of us, it was a last opportunity to spend time as Americans do rather than being concerned with behaving properly. Plus, after so much time trying to be formal and extra extra polite with our principals, we wanted to let loose.
Oh. You’re the new teachers from CEI.
On Thursday morning, the fellows from all three Heqing schools met up in Heqing city to get Heqing phone numbers and generally orient ourselves to the town. On the way in, our principal insisted that another teacher accompany us (despite protests that it was very easy to take the bus and that we wanted to practice going in on our own). However, on the way home, we had no escort, and as we all crammed onto the bus we realized that we were not positive exactly where we had to get off.
(I should explain that the buses we can take to and from Heqing proper are not like American buses with set stopping points. Instead, you wait by the side of the road, pretty much wherever, to get picked up; you pay one yuan; and when you want to get off you yell “stop!”)
I was personally cool with just looking out the window and yelling stop when I saw aI’ familiar part of the road. Ma LiJun, however, being practical, asked a few of the locals jammed into the space next to our seats if they knew where Pengtun Middle School was. They did. Moreover, they knew that we were the new CEI fellows who would be teaching at the middle school. It’s sort of amazing how quickly word travels. I’ve certainly run into people since I got here who have no clue who I am, but Colin was saying on Thursday that CEI is “a known commodity” within Heqing. And that’s with the ten Americans here last year. Ten Americans being more or less known within a whole city. I’m not sure yet if I’m pleased or displeased with that situation, but it’s certainly interesting.
White People are Scary
My second night in Pengtun (and my first out to eat without the principal and other VIPs), Ma LiJun, Mark, and I went to a restaurant around 6:45, which is quite late for China. As such, we were the only ones there, with the exception of the family that runs the place. This family included 2 little boys (one perhaps 4 or 5, the other less than a year). While we waited for our food, Ma LiJun decided to go over and say hi to the kids, and I followed suit. The five year old seemed happy enough with this situation. The baby (who had seemed quite content enough) immediately started crying. And this is why white people are scary. Or perhaps it was the curly hair.
Long Walks and Local Interest
Yesterday (Saturday) morning, I decided that I really needed to get off campus, so I went for a walk. There’s a lake/marsh thing behind our school with a pathway alongside it, so I took that for a ways, meandering randomly and figuring I’d be able to make my way back to school eventually. As I walked, I came up alongside these older two ladies and they tried to talk to me. I say “tried” because they had to repeat basically every question at least once and half of them I didn’t understand at all. But we had a lot of smiling and whenever we reached a fork in the road they gave me advice on which way I should go to see pretty things. Eventually we parted ways.
After that, I ended up walking through rice paddies on the concrete strips that border the irrigation lines, and I cut through a village on the other side. I was trying to get to the mountains, which were very close by, but everywhere I walked there was a lot of corn between me and them, and I wasn’t sure about the etiquette of cutting through someone else’s crops without a set path like in the rice paddies.
My wanderings brought me within earshot of what sounded like a recording of Beijing Opera, so I followed a very muddy, very wet path to what turned out to be a spring with some pretty bridges and pagodas and places to sit. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a water bottle with me, but it’s nice to know where the spring is and how to get there.
After that, I started trying to make my way back. All along the roads and paths, people were staring, of course. Kids were the most fun. Usually, they would stare and stare, and then as I got closer they’d giggle and look away. I’d smile and say “ni hao,” and then a lot of them would giggle again and, in a fit of sudden bravery, yell “Hello!” before turning away once again. Also, I apparently do not always make babies cry, because one little guy was just fascinated with me. So that made me feel better.
Showing posts with label STP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label STP. Show all posts
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
On Culture
‘Evening, everyone. Or morning. Or whatever time it is wherever you are. I have, as promised, a post discussing things that I knew to expect when I came back to China. I have two categories: “things I’m already used to from last time,” and “things I was exposed to last time but never actually had to get used to.” These lists may expand as I remember more tidbits. But, without further adieu….
Things I’m used to already from last time:
Hocking loogies everywhere and often- this is a fact of life in China, wherever you are. Spit happens. Men are more likely to do it in public than women are, but the girls’ bathroom in Beijing still held a loogie chorus most mornings and evenings.
Belly shirts for men-Belly shirts for women aren’t big here, but men with the Chinese equivalent of beer bellies (and maybe they are beer bellies—I dunno) enjoy rolling up their shirts and letting them rest on the “shelf” of their bellies whenever it’s warm.
Many people wearing the same clothes for 2+ days in a row- I remember being so utterly confused by this when I first came to Beijing. My roommate would wear an outfit for 3-4 days, changing her underwear daily, and then she’d change into a new outfit. So weird, right? Actually, though, as somebody who often wears a shirt twice without washing it, I can appreciate this manner of dressing. After all, why stick a worn shirt back in a drawer with all the clean ones? (That’s still what I do though—even in China, old habits die hard)
People washing their underwear (if not their whole outfits) nightly- This was another confusing part of my first weeks in Beijing, I didn’t understand why my roommate didn’t just wait and do a lot of laundry at once, but if you’re hand-washing your clothes anyway, you may as well get a head start, right?
People who shower with a basin instead of under the faucet- My Chinese roommate here in Lincang takes what we would call “showers” regularly, but many others don’t. They sponge bathe instead, and wash their hair in the sink, showering only occasionally.
Chinese cabbies (and traffic in general) are insane- Like American cabbies, Chinese cabbies have thick accents, crazy stories, and absolutely unbelievable driving practices. They actually make American cab drivers look quite tame, but I actually hear that Chinese cabs are nothing compared to the horror of those in other Asian countries.
Public transit is freakin’ crowded-- Be ready to spoon standing up with whomever you happen to be next to. – Beijing subways are insane, and buses are super crowded. I’ve not experienced public transit in Lincang, but if the buses here aren’t also crowded I will be quite surprised.
Chinese bread is strange and sweet and fluffy and often filled with stuff- American bread is hard to come by in these parts. There is bread, but if it is not steamed it is usually very sweet and usually flavored in some way. And yes. Fluff. Oh so much fluff.
Jiaozi, baozi, mantou, and sesame balls are awesome— Actually, a lot of Chinese foods are awesome, and since I’ve lived in China before I know what some of them are. There’s still a lot yet to be discovered, especially as regards Yunnanese cuisine, but at least I’m not starting more or less from scratch this time.
Chinese bars are weird but can still be fun-- They’re just not typical. Not that I am an expert on bars, but most of the ones here are strange and dark and just…odd.
Soy milk is served warm- I think you can get cold soy milk, maybe, but for the most part soy milk is served at breakfast and warm. It’s also (usually) unflavored and thus less sweet than its American counterpart. I’m learning to like it a bit more, but I’m still not a huge fan.
A lot of milk isn’t refrigerated—From what I understand, the packages of milk sitting on room temperature shelves are perfectly safe—sorta like parmalait in the states—but I still don’t feel comfortable drinking them. Maybe that’ll change.
Food is slurped or eaten with chopsticks—When I came to study abroad, I simply could not use chopsticks. I’d tried to teach myself in the states but with no success. Needless to say, eating was hard for the first few weeks until I figured it out. But now I know exactly how to use chopsticks, I’m accustomed to the practice of using chopsticks to take food from communal dishes, and I know that it’s not at all rude to slurp in most situations.
Pants for unpotty-trained babies don’t have crotches, which allows for their parents to easily hold them up and let them pee/poop outside—This is a big one. While I’m sure diapers are available in China, many parents don’t bother. Instead, they dress their children in “buttless pants,” as many expats have christened them. It is not at all uncommon to see a mother holding a small child over a gutter.
China smells—good and bad—but it smells- In the states, a lot of scents are covered up somehow or another. Even in NYC, there’re a lot of places that just smell like air. In China, almost everywhere smells like something distinct. And maybe I smell it more because I’m not Chinese—I don’t know.
As a foreigner, you will be stared at, and people will try to rip you off when you shop—I feel like I’ve covered this one already, and I’m sure it’ll come up many times in this blog over the course of the year.
Being followed around in stores—It is not at all unusual, in Chinese shops, for the shopkeeper to follow customers around, sort of like how teenagers get followed around in the mall. It’s annoying, but what can you do?
Chinese women use “sunbrellas”—basically, the parasol is back in style. Chinese women feel about pale skin the way many American women do about tans, and thus they work as hard as possible to keep themselves from being exposed to sunlight.
Almost everything is cheaper here than in the states, but at the same time there are quite a few things sold at American-like prices, which many locals can’t possibly afford—I think of China as really having two economies: the one for the wealthy, and the one for everyone else. My breakfast each morning costs from 1-3 kuai, and lunch and dinner are both 4-6. That’s less than a dollar. I can also go to restaurants with “western” food that cost 40 kuai a person for an entrée. That’s about 7 bucks, so still cheap compared to American food, but for people who make not so much to begin with it’s an impossible expense. That’s just one example, and I wouldn’t be surprised if an extended post on this topic pops up sometime.
Being illiterate—This is a big one, and one that I’m having to get re-used to. I hate not being able to read. I can understand some words but not nearly as many as I’d like. The last time I felt this way with English, I was about seven and didn’t actually need to read outside of school. Being, as I am, 23, I kinda need to know how to get around in the community I’m a part of, and that’s made much more difficult when I am pretty much illiterate.
Things I had some exposure to last time but didn’t actually get accustomed to:
Washing clothes by hand- CET (my study abroad program) had washers and driers in the dorms that we could pay to use. I might have hand washed small things once or twice, but generally I used the machines.
Squat Toilets- While I was exposed to many a squat pot while abroad, and while I used many a squat pot, they were not my normal bathrooms because CET had Western toilets in their dorms.
Whitening Lotions I knew that Chinese women liked their skin to be as pale as possible, but I brought my own lotion from the states last time and thus avoided the issue of having to find lotion, somewhere in China, without bleach in it. So far, no luck, but that goes back to the illiteracy thing.
Things I’m used to already from last time:
Hocking loogies everywhere and often- this is a fact of life in China, wherever you are. Spit happens. Men are more likely to do it in public than women are, but the girls’ bathroom in Beijing still held a loogie chorus most mornings and evenings.
Belly shirts for men-Belly shirts for women aren’t big here, but men with the Chinese equivalent of beer bellies (and maybe they are beer bellies—I dunno) enjoy rolling up their shirts and letting them rest on the “shelf” of their bellies whenever it’s warm.
Many people wearing the same clothes for 2+ days in a row- I remember being so utterly confused by this when I first came to Beijing. My roommate would wear an outfit for 3-4 days, changing her underwear daily, and then she’d change into a new outfit. So weird, right? Actually, though, as somebody who often wears a shirt twice without washing it, I can appreciate this manner of dressing. After all, why stick a worn shirt back in a drawer with all the clean ones? (That’s still what I do though—even in China, old habits die hard)
People washing their underwear (if not their whole outfits) nightly- This was another confusing part of my first weeks in Beijing, I didn’t understand why my roommate didn’t just wait and do a lot of laundry at once, but if you’re hand-washing your clothes anyway, you may as well get a head start, right?
People who shower with a basin instead of under the faucet- My Chinese roommate here in Lincang takes what we would call “showers” regularly, but many others don’t. They sponge bathe instead, and wash their hair in the sink, showering only occasionally.
Chinese cabbies (and traffic in general) are insane- Like American cabbies, Chinese cabbies have thick accents, crazy stories, and absolutely unbelievable driving practices. They actually make American cab drivers look quite tame, but I actually hear that Chinese cabs are nothing compared to the horror of those in other Asian countries.
Public transit is freakin’ crowded-- Be ready to spoon standing up with whomever you happen to be next to. – Beijing subways are insane, and buses are super crowded. I’ve not experienced public transit in Lincang, but if the buses here aren’t also crowded I will be quite surprised.
Chinese bread is strange and sweet and fluffy and often filled with stuff- American bread is hard to come by in these parts. There is bread, but if it is not steamed it is usually very sweet and usually flavored in some way. And yes. Fluff. Oh so much fluff.
Jiaozi, baozi, mantou, and sesame balls are awesome— Actually, a lot of Chinese foods are awesome, and since I’ve lived in China before I know what some of them are. There’s still a lot yet to be discovered, especially as regards Yunnanese cuisine, but at least I’m not starting more or less from scratch this time.
Chinese bars are weird but can still be fun-- They’re just not typical. Not that I am an expert on bars, but most of the ones here are strange and dark and just…odd.
Soy milk is served warm- I think you can get cold soy milk, maybe, but for the most part soy milk is served at breakfast and warm. It’s also (usually) unflavored and thus less sweet than its American counterpart. I’m learning to like it a bit more, but I’m still not a huge fan.
A lot of milk isn’t refrigerated—From what I understand, the packages of milk sitting on room temperature shelves are perfectly safe—sorta like parmalait in the states—but I still don’t feel comfortable drinking them. Maybe that’ll change.
Food is slurped or eaten with chopsticks—When I came to study abroad, I simply could not use chopsticks. I’d tried to teach myself in the states but with no success. Needless to say, eating was hard for the first few weeks until I figured it out. But now I know exactly how to use chopsticks, I’m accustomed to the practice of using chopsticks to take food from communal dishes, and I know that it’s not at all rude to slurp in most situations.
Pants for unpotty-trained babies don’t have crotches, which allows for their parents to easily hold them up and let them pee/poop outside—This is a big one. While I’m sure diapers are available in China, many parents don’t bother. Instead, they dress their children in “buttless pants,” as many expats have christened them. It is not at all uncommon to see a mother holding a small child over a gutter.
China smells—good and bad—but it smells- In the states, a lot of scents are covered up somehow or another. Even in NYC, there’re a lot of places that just smell like air. In China, almost everywhere smells like something distinct. And maybe I smell it more because I’m not Chinese—I don’t know.
As a foreigner, you will be stared at, and people will try to rip you off when you shop—I feel like I’ve covered this one already, and I’m sure it’ll come up many times in this blog over the course of the year.
Being followed around in stores—It is not at all unusual, in Chinese shops, for the shopkeeper to follow customers around, sort of like how teenagers get followed around in the mall. It’s annoying, but what can you do?
Chinese women use “sunbrellas”—basically, the parasol is back in style. Chinese women feel about pale skin the way many American women do about tans, and thus they work as hard as possible to keep themselves from being exposed to sunlight.
Almost everything is cheaper here than in the states, but at the same time there are quite a few things sold at American-like prices, which many locals can’t possibly afford—I think of China as really having two economies: the one for the wealthy, and the one for everyone else. My breakfast each morning costs from 1-3 kuai, and lunch and dinner are both 4-6. That’s less than a dollar. I can also go to restaurants with “western” food that cost 40 kuai a person for an entrée. That’s about 7 bucks, so still cheap compared to American food, but for people who make not so much to begin with it’s an impossible expense. That’s just one example, and I wouldn’t be surprised if an extended post on this topic pops up sometime.
Being illiterate—This is a big one, and one that I’m having to get re-used to. I hate not being able to read. I can understand some words but not nearly as many as I’d like. The last time I felt this way with English, I was about seven and didn’t actually need to read outside of school. Being, as I am, 23, I kinda need to know how to get around in the community I’m a part of, and that’s made much more difficult when I am pretty much illiterate.
Things I had some exposure to last time but didn’t actually get accustomed to:
Washing clothes by hand- CET (my study abroad program) had washers and driers in the dorms that we could pay to use. I might have hand washed small things once or twice, but generally I used the machines.
Squat Toilets- While I was exposed to many a squat pot while abroad, and while I used many a squat pot, they were not my normal bathrooms because CET had Western toilets in their dorms.
Whitening Lotions I knew that Chinese women liked their skin to be as pale as possible, but I brought my own lotion from the states last time and thus avoided the issue of having to find lotion, somewhere in China, without bleach in it. So far, no luck, but that goes back to the illiteracy thing.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Mid-Week Musings
Life is strange these days. I think I’m just getting to the point of understanding that this is not a vacation--that I have, in fact, moved here. Of course, I haven’t yet gotten to Heqing, to the school where I’ll be living and teaching this whole year. (It hasn’t been decided whether or not fellows will be switching schools for the second year. CEI plans to continue to expand pretty dramatically—currently they’re planning on 150 fellows for 2011-2013—so the number of schools will also presumably grow. But in any case, Heqing will be my base for a good long while. ) We should be moving up there in a little over a week—probably next Thursday or Friday. I’ll be sad to leave the friends I’ve made here, and to get away from most of the native English speakers in my life, but at the same time I’m really itching to start my life. That’s hard to do when I’m living in a dorm room, eating all my meals at the cafeteria or restaurants, and generally keeping my possessions to a minimum. Actually, I guess that doesn’t sound so different from my first two years at Macalester, but I was 18 and 19 then, not 23. I hadn’t lived in houses for two and a half years.
Anyway, my brain’s been involved in some serious acrobatics over the last week or so. I keep thinking about people and things in the states and realizing just how long it’ll be before I see any of them again. I’m doing what I can to live day by day, to cherish each new experience as it happens, to approach every moment with a tremendous sense of possibility.
There have been amazing moments—many of them—and there have been very “human” moments that remind me how similar people all over the world are, wherever they are. Yesterday, for example, I was going to the Post Office and I saw a little boy, maybe 2 or 3, playing with a toy truck. A long truck, larger than most of those seen on these streets, came rolling by on the road, and suddenly he was pointing at it, yelling and looking between it and his mother. Little boys+trucks=love, here or anywhere else.
Teaching has been getting generally easier, I suppose, although I still have good days and challenging ones. On Friday each class will give a performance for the rest of the summer school. We’re doing a short chant, followed by what will hopefully be a rousing rendition of “A Whole New World.” Should be fun, or at least hilarious. I spent the last hour doing a word-by-word translation of the song, since the Chinese version isn’t all that similar to the English one. Now it’s in the hands of my co-worker, Malijun, for corrections. Judging by how long she’s had it, I’m thinking there’re a lot of corrections.
Today and yesterday we had lessons with Colin (who will be my ongoing support manager), discussing the format and general situation of the Chinese testing system. It’s pretty crazy. The tests seem unreasonable in that they sometimes test material not covered in class, they sometimes include grammatical or spelling errors, and they sometimes have multiple choice questions with multiple correct answers (or no correct answers.)
Case in point:
1) _______________. Is this your pencil?
a. Hello.
b. Hi.
c. Wait!
d. Excuse me.
While it’s true that “Excuse me” seems the most plausible, all four answers could work and the idea of non-native speakers getting the difference is pretty extreme!
Colin also told a few stories about his experiences teaching last year. These were all hilarious until, of course, you realized that they could very easily happen to you. For example, “The kids don’t really bathe. They wash their feet and their hair and their hands, but everything else not so much. So in the winter it smelled so awful that we had to open a window.” Or, “After every test they call the best kids to the office and praise them, and then the call the worst kids to the office and cuff them and scream at them and you have to watch and it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” Or “You will probably have access to showers, which will probably be hot unless it’s not sunny. So on cloudy days in the winter you probably won’t shower.”
You gotta hand it to China on the solar energy front. Solar heated hot water is common and, in general, a great idea. But I feel like there should be some kinda backup for monsoon season.
Very soon (probably tomorrow or Friday) I’m gonna put up a post about the things I’m used to here and the things I’m not used to, because that’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. For now, have a lovely Wednesday, everyone.
Anyway, my brain’s been involved in some serious acrobatics over the last week or so. I keep thinking about people and things in the states and realizing just how long it’ll be before I see any of them again. I’m doing what I can to live day by day, to cherish each new experience as it happens, to approach every moment with a tremendous sense of possibility.
There have been amazing moments—many of them—and there have been very “human” moments that remind me how similar people all over the world are, wherever they are. Yesterday, for example, I was going to the Post Office and I saw a little boy, maybe 2 or 3, playing with a toy truck. A long truck, larger than most of those seen on these streets, came rolling by on the road, and suddenly he was pointing at it, yelling and looking between it and his mother. Little boys+trucks=love, here or anywhere else.
Teaching has been getting generally easier, I suppose, although I still have good days and challenging ones. On Friday each class will give a performance for the rest of the summer school. We’re doing a short chant, followed by what will hopefully be a rousing rendition of “A Whole New World.” Should be fun, or at least hilarious. I spent the last hour doing a word-by-word translation of the song, since the Chinese version isn’t all that similar to the English one. Now it’s in the hands of my co-worker, Malijun, for corrections. Judging by how long she’s had it, I’m thinking there’re a lot of corrections.
Today and yesterday we had lessons with Colin (who will be my ongoing support manager), discussing the format and general situation of the Chinese testing system. It’s pretty crazy. The tests seem unreasonable in that they sometimes test material not covered in class, they sometimes include grammatical or spelling errors, and they sometimes have multiple choice questions with multiple correct answers (or no correct answers.)
Case in point:
1) _______________. Is this your pencil?
a. Hello.
b. Hi.
c. Wait!
d. Excuse me.
While it’s true that “Excuse me” seems the most plausible, all four answers could work and the idea of non-native speakers getting the difference is pretty extreme!
Colin also told a few stories about his experiences teaching last year. These were all hilarious until, of course, you realized that they could very easily happen to you. For example, “The kids don’t really bathe. They wash their feet and their hair and their hands, but everything else not so much. So in the winter it smelled so awful that we had to open a window.” Or, “After every test they call the best kids to the office and praise them, and then the call the worst kids to the office and cuff them and scream at them and you have to watch and it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” Or “You will probably have access to showers, which will probably be hot unless it’s not sunny. So on cloudy days in the winter you probably won’t shower.”
You gotta hand it to China on the solar energy front. Solar heated hot water is common and, in general, a great idea. But I feel like there should be some kinda backup for monsoon season.
Very soon (probably tomorrow or Friday) I’m gonna put up a post about the things I’m used to here and the things I’m not used to, because that’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot. For now, have a lovely Wednesday, everyone.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
On a Lovely Weekend and The Wonders of Technology
I forget sometimes how lucky I am to be here in the year 2010, with all the modern amenities that accompany it. My parents went to visit some family friends in Maryland a few days after I left the States, and apparently one of them lived in England for awhile when he was about my age. That was 30 years ago, and it took a month for him to send a letter home and receive a reply. It might be that if I were to communicate only through letter writing, I would have similar issues now. However, I haven’t sent a single letter since I got here. (I do intend to! I’ve written one to my grandpa, but I haven’t gotten to a post office yet.)
Anyway, with the year 2010 comes the ability to skype. Instantaneous video chatting, for free, from China to the States. Sure, it sometimes gets blurry or cuts off, but the fact is that I have the ability to feel as though I’m almost in the same room as the people I’m talking to. This morning (Saturday night in Minneapolis), I “skyped in” to a BBQ with five of my dearest friends. I felt like I was hanging out in my old backyard. It was awesome. The world is so much smaller than it used to be.
This weekend was marked by much more than a lovely skype conversation though. Friday was crazy, but in a good way. We had a “mandatory fun” scavenger hunt after classes, which meant running around the city in our school groups of four, completing mostly ridiculous tasks and trying to rack up more points than the other teams. What’s ridiculous, you might want to know? Well, I will tell you. Ridiculous means posing for a picture next to somebody welding, making somebody in your group eat a chicken foot (a very popular snack food in China—kinda the equivalent to jerky in the states), making somebody in your group eat something scarier than a chicken’s foot (we found a pig’s tail, which my Chinese co-worker said was “very nice.” I will take his word for it), finding a giant abacus, and climbing into the back of a motorized wagon (we call them truck-wagons, or “tragons”) to have our picture snapped holding pitchforks. I have these pictures and will post them shortly. Our team didn’t win, but we had a really awesome time running and cabbing around like mad, asking locals for really strange favors.
On Saturday I went for a long exploratory walk with Kristin and Yanmei. We strolled around our neighborhood, checked out a huge supermarket, and then passed by a bunch of fruit and veggie stands and the like. I think we were far away enough from the areas of town CEI fellows frequent that the presence of Westerners was harder to cloak (not that it’s easy anywhere). Case in point: when Kristin tried on a watch, we had not one, not two, but at least five people who entirely stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange. That night, we went out to dinner with some other fellows, and I got to have ice cream! (The restaurant was the one place in Lincang we’ve discovered so far that has coffee and legit ice cream).
Today I skyped with my friends first thing, and then I went for a walk up into the hills next to the school. It’s pretty amazing how you can have a perfectly paved street in China that turns, in less than one minute’s walk, to a muddy mass. All of a sudden the roads and construction sites end and fields and ponds take their place. We didn’t leave sight of the school at any moment during our walk, but it was already a very different sort of feeling.
The line between city and country is so easily blurred here. Water buffalo graze right outside the school gates, across the street from the cranes putting together upscale condos. Goats and the boys who heard them compete for road space with shiny new cars. When you walk five minutes from the school in one direction, you feel as though you’re in an urban area. When you walk the other way, you’re in farmland. It’s easy to imagine what this place looked like before this school and all of the other modern amenities surrounding it, and it’s sort of sad to see it now—lost in its lack of identity, torn between two times and two worlds.
Anyway, with the year 2010 comes the ability to skype. Instantaneous video chatting, for free, from China to the States. Sure, it sometimes gets blurry or cuts off, but the fact is that I have the ability to feel as though I’m almost in the same room as the people I’m talking to. This morning (Saturday night in Minneapolis), I “skyped in” to a BBQ with five of my dearest friends. I felt like I was hanging out in my old backyard. It was awesome. The world is so much smaller than it used to be.
This weekend was marked by much more than a lovely skype conversation though. Friday was crazy, but in a good way. We had a “mandatory fun” scavenger hunt after classes, which meant running around the city in our school groups of four, completing mostly ridiculous tasks and trying to rack up more points than the other teams. What’s ridiculous, you might want to know? Well, I will tell you. Ridiculous means posing for a picture next to somebody welding, making somebody in your group eat a chicken foot (a very popular snack food in China—kinda the equivalent to jerky in the states), making somebody in your group eat something scarier than a chicken’s foot (we found a pig’s tail, which my Chinese co-worker said was “very nice.” I will take his word for it), finding a giant abacus, and climbing into the back of a motorized wagon (we call them truck-wagons, or “tragons”) to have our picture snapped holding pitchforks. I have these pictures and will post them shortly. Our team didn’t win, but we had a really awesome time running and cabbing around like mad, asking locals for really strange favors.
On Saturday I went for a long exploratory walk with Kristin and Yanmei. We strolled around our neighborhood, checked out a huge supermarket, and then passed by a bunch of fruit and veggie stands and the like. I think we were far away enough from the areas of town CEI fellows frequent that the presence of Westerners was harder to cloak (not that it’s easy anywhere). Case in point: when Kristin tried on a watch, we had not one, not two, but at least five people who entirely stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange. That night, we went out to dinner with some other fellows, and I got to have ice cream! (The restaurant was the one place in Lincang we’ve discovered so far that has coffee and legit ice cream).
Today I skyped with my friends first thing, and then I went for a walk up into the hills next to the school. It’s pretty amazing how you can have a perfectly paved street in China that turns, in less than one minute’s walk, to a muddy mass. All of a sudden the roads and construction sites end and fields and ponds take their place. We didn’t leave sight of the school at any moment during our walk, but it was already a very different sort of feeling.
The line between city and country is so easily blurred here. Water buffalo graze right outside the school gates, across the street from the cranes putting together upscale condos. Goats and the boys who heard them compete for road space with shiny new cars. When you walk five minutes from the school in one direction, you feel as though you’re in an urban area. When you walk the other way, you’re in farmland. It’s easy to imagine what this place looked like before this school and all of the other modern amenities surrounding it, and it’s sort of sad to see it now—lost in its lack of identity, torn between two times and two worlds.
Friday, August 6, 2010
On Hobbies
I’m an interesting personality; when I took the Myers-Briggs test my senior year, I actually scored the exact same for introvert-extrovert. That meant that according to their scale I should default to introvert, but unlike many introverts (who perhaps know themselves better), it’s sometimes hard for me to remember until it’s too late that I’m not happy when I don’t get alone time regularly. Yesterday was a bad day in more ways than one (although the first bad day I’d had in a week, which was excellent!), and I’m pretty positive it’s because I’d spent almost no time alone in the previous several days—maybe even a week. I recovered by hanging out in my room for a couple hours, playing a computer game I mostly reserve for “get me OUT of here” moments, writing in my journal, playing penny whistle, and singing my heart out.
This might not be the most fascinating post for most of you, but yesterday’s me time (and the incredible discovery of rice cooker baking) got me thinking about my hobbies and what can transfer to China easily and what can't. It's an interesting process for me to figure out. So, in no particular order, here’s (some of) what I like to do in my free time:
Write fiction
Write nonfiction (journal/blog)
Read
Cook
Bake
Sing
Play music
Knit
Go for walks
Bike
Hang out in coffee shops
Writing (both fiction and nonfiction) is the easiest hobby to keep up with, because I don’t need anything but my brain, my hands, and either paper and pen or a computer. So far, I’ve done a ton of nonfiction of writing and very little fiction. I’ve still been plugging away on the story I started last summer, but progress is slow. I’m assuming that’s mostly because there’s been so much going on in my real life I haven’t been as drawn away into the one I made up.
Reading…well, that’s a little more complicated. I brought three non-Chinese books from the US: "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," "Ender’s Game," and "The Meaning of Life," which is one of those books with cute pictures of animals that my Mom got me. Obviously, those are all comfort books—ones I’ve read many times but know I will want to have on hand for sad days. While I was in Kunming, I bought two more books: A trilingual copy of "The Little Prince" (English, French, and Chinese), which I think will be great to work through in all three languages; and Bill Bryson’s "A Walk in the Woods," which I’ve been meaning to read for years. I haven’t started it yet, since I’m trying to “save” my books for when I need an escape, but I think it’ll be the mix of light and meaningful that I’m looking for. Once I get through "A Walk in the Woods," things will get a bit more complicated. There are going to be 6 Americans in Heqing (2 at my school and 4 at 2 other schools), so hopefully we’ll be able to trade books. I know there are bound to be some English books in Dali and Lijiang, since those cities have become more touristy in recent years, but I feel like I might end up doing a fair bit of reading online. I seriously considered buying a kindle before I crossed the Pacific, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I love books.
Cooking and baking we’ll have to see about. I am intrigued and hugely excited by the rice cooker possibilities (in case that wasn’t obvious), but I will miss things like muffins and scones and cookies. We’ll see though. In terms of cooking, I think I’ll be cooking a bit differently than I did when in the States. That being said, I can’t wait to play with all the possibilities and flavors I can find here that were distant at home.
Singing and playing music. I’ve sung almost every day for most of my life, and I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t in a choir/voice lessons/something vocal. I have a serious need to incorporate music (especially singing) into my existence, and when it doesn’t fit in naturally I have to make it fit. Of course, making it fit isn’t always easy when you’re busy all day and can’t get a practice space to yourself. I do have a tuning fork with me, so that’s nice, but I can’t exactly belt when my roommates are in. Yesterday they weren’t, so I did, and I felt so. Much. Better. I need to remember that throughout this year. I do hope to teach music at Peng Tun though, which might fill most of that niche. As for playing music, I love having a penny whistle because it’s so portable, it’s very low maintenance, and it sounds good by itself or in a band.
Knitting. Wow, well this one is the shocker. I don’t remember a lot of knitters from my time in Beijing, and I certainly don’t remember seeing any yarn shops (although my favorite mittens are from Tibet). Since my arrival in Yunnan, I’ve seen three yarn shops! One was in Kunming, and two were here in Lijiang. The Aiyi (caretaker) of my dorm is almost always working on some project or another. I brought some yarn with me and a bunch of my own needles, but it looks like when I deplete my stock I’ll be able to easily get more. I’m also really hoping that this will be an “in” for me with some of the local teachers. Colin (my OSM) says that the women teachers are always knitting during faculty meetings and the like. Maybe we can trade patterns! I’d love to learn how to knit what they do, and it’d be awesome to teach them Nordic mittens or something.
Go for walks. So this is a gimme. Obviously, I can go for walks in China. That being said, one of the nice things about walking around the States (or at least the Twin Cities) is the general anonymity available. I will always be noticed in China. China is not diverse. If you are White or Back or Latino or anything that doesn’t look distinctly Asian, people will stare at you. Staring here is not at all the same taboo it is in the States. So yes, I can walk, and yes, I will walk, but people will be watching me.
Bike. So I’ve heard that bikes are easy and relatively cheap to acquire in Heqing, and I look forward to checking into that. Whether or not I’ll feel comfortable biking there is another question. Roads are freakin’ terrifying in China. When I say that they remind me of roads in driving-based video games, I do not exaggerate. Although drivers generally wait at red lights, beyond that there are two rules: don’t hit others, and don’t get hit. Stay tuned on this one.
Hang out in coffee shops. Alas, we find ourselves faced with the unfortunate reality that coffee shops aren’t big here. There should be some in Lijiang and Dali I expect, and maybe I’ll be able to find a tea house nearby, but that good ol’ mocha is probably going to be a rarity for me over the next few years, as will that awesome aroma.
So there you have it. I’ll update you on this topic throughout the year as I see development. For now, it’s Friday morning, which means 1.5 hours of training, 1.5 hours of teaching/observing, 2 hours of lunch/break/Chinese prep, 1 hour of Chinese, and FREEDOM!
This might not be the most fascinating post for most of you, but yesterday’s me time (and the incredible discovery of rice cooker baking) got me thinking about my hobbies and what can transfer to China easily and what can't. It's an interesting process for me to figure out. So, in no particular order, here’s (some of) what I like to do in my free time:
Write fiction
Write nonfiction (journal/blog)
Read
Cook
Bake
Sing
Play music
Knit
Go for walks
Bike
Hang out in coffee shops
Writing (both fiction and nonfiction) is the easiest hobby to keep up with, because I don’t need anything but my brain, my hands, and either paper and pen or a computer. So far, I’ve done a ton of nonfiction of writing and very little fiction. I’ve still been plugging away on the story I started last summer, but progress is slow. I’m assuming that’s mostly because there’s been so much going on in my real life I haven’t been as drawn away into the one I made up.
Reading…well, that’s a little more complicated. I brought three non-Chinese books from the US: "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," "Ender’s Game," and "The Meaning of Life," which is one of those books with cute pictures of animals that my Mom got me. Obviously, those are all comfort books—ones I’ve read many times but know I will want to have on hand for sad days. While I was in Kunming, I bought two more books: A trilingual copy of "The Little Prince" (English, French, and Chinese), which I think will be great to work through in all three languages; and Bill Bryson’s "A Walk in the Woods," which I’ve been meaning to read for years. I haven’t started it yet, since I’m trying to “save” my books for when I need an escape, but I think it’ll be the mix of light and meaningful that I’m looking for. Once I get through "A Walk in the Woods," things will get a bit more complicated. There are going to be 6 Americans in Heqing (2 at my school and 4 at 2 other schools), so hopefully we’ll be able to trade books. I know there are bound to be some English books in Dali and Lijiang, since those cities have become more touristy in recent years, but I feel like I might end up doing a fair bit of reading online. I seriously considered buying a kindle before I crossed the Pacific, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I love books.
Cooking and baking we’ll have to see about. I am intrigued and hugely excited by the rice cooker possibilities (in case that wasn’t obvious), but I will miss things like muffins and scones and cookies. We’ll see though. In terms of cooking, I think I’ll be cooking a bit differently than I did when in the States. That being said, I can’t wait to play with all the possibilities and flavors I can find here that were distant at home.
Singing and playing music. I’ve sung almost every day for most of my life, and I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t in a choir/voice lessons/something vocal. I have a serious need to incorporate music (especially singing) into my existence, and when it doesn’t fit in naturally I have to make it fit. Of course, making it fit isn’t always easy when you’re busy all day and can’t get a practice space to yourself. I do have a tuning fork with me, so that’s nice, but I can’t exactly belt when my roommates are in. Yesterday they weren’t, so I did, and I felt so. Much. Better. I need to remember that throughout this year. I do hope to teach music at Peng Tun though, which might fill most of that niche. As for playing music, I love having a penny whistle because it’s so portable, it’s very low maintenance, and it sounds good by itself or in a band.
Knitting. Wow, well this one is the shocker. I don’t remember a lot of knitters from my time in Beijing, and I certainly don’t remember seeing any yarn shops (although my favorite mittens are from Tibet). Since my arrival in Yunnan, I’ve seen three yarn shops! One was in Kunming, and two were here in Lijiang. The Aiyi (caretaker) of my dorm is almost always working on some project or another. I brought some yarn with me and a bunch of my own needles, but it looks like when I deplete my stock I’ll be able to easily get more. I’m also really hoping that this will be an “in” for me with some of the local teachers. Colin (my OSM) says that the women teachers are always knitting during faculty meetings and the like. Maybe we can trade patterns! I’d love to learn how to knit what they do, and it’d be awesome to teach them Nordic mittens or something.
Go for walks. So this is a gimme. Obviously, I can go for walks in China. That being said, one of the nice things about walking around the States (or at least the Twin Cities) is the general anonymity available. I will always be noticed in China. China is not diverse. If you are White or Back or Latino or anything that doesn’t look distinctly Asian, people will stare at you. Staring here is not at all the same taboo it is in the States. So yes, I can walk, and yes, I will walk, but people will be watching me.
Bike. So I’ve heard that bikes are easy and relatively cheap to acquire in Heqing, and I look forward to checking into that. Whether or not I’ll feel comfortable biking there is another question. Roads are freakin’ terrifying in China. When I say that they remind me of roads in driving-based video games, I do not exaggerate. Although drivers generally wait at red lights, beyond that there are two rules: don’t hit others, and don’t get hit. Stay tuned on this one.
Hang out in coffee shops. Alas, we find ourselves faced with the unfortunate reality that coffee shops aren’t big here. There should be some in Lijiang and Dali I expect, and maybe I’ll be able to find a tea house nearby, but that good ol’ mocha is probably going to be a rarity for me over the next few years, as will that awesome aroma.
So there you have it. I’ll update you on this topic throughout the year as I see development. For now, it’s Friday morning, which means 1.5 hours of training, 1.5 hours of teaching/observing, 2 hours of lunch/break/Chinese prep, 1 hour of Chinese, and FREEDOM!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Student Life and Schedules
I feel like I should explain a little more about Lincang Number One Middle School and what exactly I’m doing here. Those of you who’ve seen the pictures of the school (they’re on my shutterfly site) have probably gathered what a spiffed up place this is. I’m not sure when the school was built, but I know that the facilities are relatively new. Lincang is a large prefecture in southwest Yunnan, and this middle school serves 5000 of the prefecture’s top students. Most board on campus, sharing with seven others a space that feels a little cramped with three. They attend classes from 7:30 AM until late in the evening—usually somewhere in the 8-11:30 range—and weekends don’t always mean time off. Plus their summer breaks are far shorter than our own. All the while, they’re preparing to take the 中考, the all important test that will determine not only where but whether or not they are eligible to attend high school. For students who fail the test, or who drop out before they can take it at the end of ninth grade, working life starts at fifteen.
The reason CEI focuses so heavily on middle schools (although this year they’re expanding into elementary schools) is to try to get more of these rural kids through the gauntlet and into high school. That’s why we’re training so hard, and that’s why my days are super, super busy even before school’s begun.
So my days. I wake up at 6:30, shower, get to breakfast at 7, and have from about 7:30-8:15 for either lesson prep or internet time. After that there’s class. Every morning that means three things: an hour-and-a-half long Teaching as Leadership session, a 45 minute teaching period, and a 45 minute observation period. I’ve mostly watched one of my team members teach during the observation period, but they just opened that up so that now we’re allowed to observe any CEI teacher.
At noon, we break for lunch, and the afternoons vary. This week, I have Chinese class from 2-3 and from 3-4 I have a daily lecture from this crazy Yunnanese teacher whom CEI has to get along with for political reasons. At least that’s my impression. He’s an awful teacher and most of us spend that hour doing lesson planning or other equally unrelated things. After 4, there’s sometimes a meeting or sometimes not. If not, we start lesson planning or Chinese homework. Dinner’s at six, and then the planning continues late into the evening. We have to get our lessons checked out by our OSM (ongoing support manager—the person who will be living in Heqing with us) before we’re clear to teach.
Of course, just as in college, there are many distractions and side conversations and other fun but not productive activities that get in the way of lesson planning. These include swing dancing and contra dancing, taught by American fellows, and lots of random debates involving religion, movies, politics, etc. And, just as in college, these distractions—whatever the effect on my sleeping schedule—are totally worth it.
Usually, I get back to my dorm around 10:30, journal and read or write, and get to sleep at 11:30 or 12 after chatting with my roommates. It works out reasonably well, although I do find myself more tired than I’d like to be.
The reason I’m writing this now is that I was able to get a head start on my lesson plan and am, in fact, done for tomorrow, but I’m not getting my plan checked until nine. Plus there’s no internet in my room. Or outlets. It’s ironic, because I should actually (supposedly) have better internet access in my Heqing village than in this prefecture capitol. It’s good to have things to look forward to.
The reason CEI focuses so heavily on middle schools (although this year they’re expanding into elementary schools) is to try to get more of these rural kids through the gauntlet and into high school. That’s why we’re training so hard, and that’s why my days are super, super busy even before school’s begun.
So my days. I wake up at 6:30, shower, get to breakfast at 7, and have from about 7:30-8:15 for either lesson prep or internet time. After that there’s class. Every morning that means three things: an hour-and-a-half long Teaching as Leadership session, a 45 minute teaching period, and a 45 minute observation period. I’ve mostly watched one of my team members teach during the observation period, but they just opened that up so that now we’re allowed to observe any CEI teacher.
At noon, we break for lunch, and the afternoons vary. This week, I have Chinese class from 2-3 and from 3-4 I have a daily lecture from this crazy Yunnanese teacher whom CEI has to get along with for political reasons. At least that’s my impression. He’s an awful teacher and most of us spend that hour doing lesson planning or other equally unrelated things. After 4, there’s sometimes a meeting or sometimes not. If not, we start lesson planning or Chinese homework. Dinner’s at six, and then the planning continues late into the evening. We have to get our lessons checked out by our OSM (ongoing support manager—the person who will be living in Heqing with us) before we’re clear to teach.
Of course, just as in college, there are many distractions and side conversations and other fun but not productive activities that get in the way of lesson planning. These include swing dancing and contra dancing, taught by American fellows, and lots of random debates involving religion, movies, politics, etc. And, just as in college, these distractions—whatever the effect on my sleeping schedule—are totally worth it.
Usually, I get back to my dorm around 10:30, journal and read or write, and get to sleep at 11:30 or 12 after chatting with my roommates. It works out reasonably well, although I do find myself more tired than I’d like to be.
The reason I’m writing this now is that I was able to get a head start on my lesson plan and am, in fact, done for tomorrow, but I’m not getting my plan checked until nine. Plus there’s no internet in my room. Or outlets. It’s ironic, because I should actually (supposedly) have better internet access in my Heqing village than in this prefecture capitol. It’s good to have things to look forward to.
Morning Musings
Mornings are quiet times here in Lincang. I’ve just had my breakfast of a steamed bun, a hard-boiled egg, and a glass of warm soymilk (because apparently the store isn’t planning on restocking yogurt any time soon), and now I’m sitting in the library. I’m done with my class prep, so I’m just futzing around on the net for a bit before heading over to training in half an hour. There are a few other folks in here readying their classes and skyping/emailing folks back home (speaking of, I do have skype. I don’t want to post the name up here, since this is an open site, but if you want to connect let me know and I’ll shoot it your way. I love talking with folks!) Mornings can also be my most homesick moments, if I haven't gotten emails overnight (which is the day during the states). Most of the rest of the day is too busy.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned that the library is one of two places that we know of on campus that have wi-fi. The other is the computer lab downstairs. Our rooms don’t even have outlets—just two fluorescent lights—so the library and lab have also become our default power strips, with everybody jostling for plugs. It sounds more cutthroat than it is, and my computer is pretty much brand new, so I can make it last for a long time without a chord.
I’m looking out a window over well-clipped school grounds and dorms, with mountains and clouds not too far off in the background. Actually, a lot of the clouds are hovering well below the mountain summits. Andrea, CEI’s CEO, is in town for a few days, and he mentioned that Yunnan (which means “south of the clouds”) is also an abbreviation for two words that mean “colorful clouds”—a much more apt description. You can get a sense from my pictures of why that is, but unfortunately my camera’s not the best.
This morning also marked my first ibuprofen since arrival, because my calves still hurt like crazy from our stairmaster hike the other day. The mobile medicine cabinet is being put to good use, although I haven’t had to take anything for my belly for the last three or four days. Last night I even ate a little of the egg-tomato-MSG dish, to see how it did, and I was ok. I can’t exactly say I’m thrilled that my body’s no longer upset when I pour MSG into it, but considering the alternative….
It’s amazing how quickly you get used to life conditions around here, or probably anywhere. Things like having no power or net in our rooms, having hot water as a likelihood but not a certainty, using the bathroom without a western toilet, eating only prepared or packaged food, never ever drinking tap water…it’s still annoying, but after a week or two you think about it much less. And really, when it comes down to it, life is pretty consistent. My bed here, wooden board for a mattress or not, is a bed. My food,however differently prepared, is often made up of ingredients I use regularly in the states—things like eggplant, tofu, rice, cucumber.
That matters to me. It matters to me that I’m able to wake up and see the same calendar I had hanging in Minneapolis, the one I bought with my family in Charleston last summer. It matters that I’ve got a Harry Potter book and Ender’s Game sitting in my room, that I’m wearing clothes I got in the states. These are all material things, and normally I don’t care about that kind of stuff, but when it comes to distance from people I care about and places I love, the material takes on more weight. I know that, as time passes, I’ll get clothes here, and a new calendar, and a new toothbrush. But hopefully by then I’ll feel more settled into myself and this place.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned that the library is one of two places that we know of on campus that have wi-fi. The other is the computer lab downstairs. Our rooms don’t even have outlets—just two fluorescent lights—so the library and lab have also become our default power strips, with everybody jostling for plugs. It sounds more cutthroat than it is, and my computer is pretty much brand new, so I can make it last for a long time without a chord.
I’m looking out a window over well-clipped school grounds and dorms, with mountains and clouds not too far off in the background. Actually, a lot of the clouds are hovering well below the mountain summits. Andrea, CEI’s CEO, is in town for a few days, and he mentioned that Yunnan (which means “south of the clouds”) is also an abbreviation for two words that mean “colorful clouds”—a much more apt description. You can get a sense from my pictures of why that is, but unfortunately my camera’s not the best.
This morning also marked my first ibuprofen since arrival, because my calves still hurt like crazy from our stairmaster hike the other day. The mobile medicine cabinet is being put to good use, although I haven’t had to take anything for my belly for the last three or four days. Last night I even ate a little of the egg-tomato-MSG dish, to see how it did, and I was ok. I can’t exactly say I’m thrilled that my body’s no longer upset when I pour MSG into it, but considering the alternative….
It’s amazing how quickly you get used to life conditions around here, or probably anywhere. Things like having no power or net in our rooms, having hot water as a likelihood but not a certainty, using the bathroom without a western toilet, eating only prepared or packaged food, never ever drinking tap water…it’s still annoying, but after a week or two you think about it much less. And really, when it comes down to it, life is pretty consistent. My bed here, wooden board for a mattress or not, is a bed. My food,however differently prepared, is often made up of ingredients I use regularly in the states—things like eggplant, tofu, rice, cucumber.
That matters to me. It matters to me that I’m able to wake up and see the same calendar I had hanging in Minneapolis, the one I bought with my family in Charleston last summer. It matters that I’ve got a Harry Potter book and Ender’s Game sitting in my room, that I’m wearing clothes I got in the states. These are all material things, and normally I don’t care about that kind of stuff, but when it comes to distance from people I care about and places I love, the material takes on more weight. I know that, as time passes, I’ll get clothes here, and a new calendar, and a new toothbrush. But hopefully by then I’ll feel more settled into myself and this place.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
On Food
Well, those of you who know me (and I’d be surprised if any of you readers didn’t, considering) know that I am a foodie indeed. I’m an avid cook, baker, locavore, vegetarian, etc. Thus, I’m sure that, as with language and culture, food will be a rather common topic around here, and I’m sure that getting used to Chinese food (and Chinese cooking) will take some time.
Last year, I did almost all of my shopping at a food co-op and at farmers’ markets, and my processed food intake dropped to near zero. I made all my own bread, sauces, curries, etc. Minneapolis made such a lifestyle relatively easy to maintain, even on an AmeriCorps stipend of $800 a month. China…not so much.
China has a huge culture of food, just as the US does (and, really, probably most other places). Everywhere you go there are outdoor fruit sellers, meat sellers, noodle sellers, etc. Bargaining is common, even expected in most cases, and most of what you can get is fresh. That’s the good part. The not so good part is the general lack of sanitation when it comes to food. Tap water isn’t potable here, and most produce must be washed in boiling water (and soap, to be safe) or peeled before it can be deemed truly safe. It’s not that eating an apple without washing it thoroughly would kill anyone, but it might not be so nice for your stomach.
Unfortunately, a lot of Chinese food isn’t necessarily so nice for your stomach—or at least my stomach. The diet is so different from what I was accustomed to in the States that I’ve gotten sick almost every day since arriving in Lincang. It’s fun, really. Don’t worry—it’s not like I’ve been throwing up or anything like that—but my stomach and digestive system as a whole just aren’t comfortable yet. I think most of that’s probably due to the high volume of MSG in the cafeteria dishes, and the rest can be tied to the amount of oil, specifically pork fat, much of the food is cooked in. Not so good for vegetarians with no meat-digesting enzymes. I’ve been trying to eat yogurt every day to get some local bacteria into my system, but straight up yogurt is harder to find than would be desired, and I can’t buy a large carton because I don’t have any means of refrigerating it.
My friends and I are pretty sure that what we’re eating here is, for the most part, not traditional Yunnanese food; rather, we think that these dishes are to Chinese cafeterias as pizza, hot dogs, and nachos are to cafeterias in the states. They are standard fare of not particularly high quality and are better than their American equivalents only in that they are cooked in a kitchen at this school rather than shipped to the cafeteria in frozen, individually wrapped servings. When I complained about the food to my dad, he raised the very good point of: “It’s a middle school cafeteria. Why do you think you always brought your own lunch?”
So what have I been eating? Well, for breakfast, I almost always have mantou (steamed buns, occasionally stuffed with red bean paste), and either yogurt (when I can get it) or warm soymilk—not my favorite beverage by a long shot, but nutritionally useful. Lunch is white rice and a mix of dishes from the cafeteria. Usually I end up with tofu of some sort, potatoes or eggplant, and some kind of green. The same goes for dinner. I used to eat a tasty tomato and egg dish pretty often, but I’m pretty sure now that the reason it tasted so good is that it was loaded up with MSG, so I avoid it. Actually, I avoid everything that’s super salty, because that’s a good indication it’s MSG-heavy. This sometimes means that the majority of my daily calories come from white rice. I’ve just bought some fruit for my room though, and I make sure to take a daily vitamin.
On the weekends, there’s more time and more motivation to eat out. We found a Thai/Burmese place nearby that’s got a lot of delicious, spicy food. This evening the entire CEI program went to a restaurant that specializes in food from the Wa minority. It was quite good—lots of potatoes, corn, and spice. There are also noodle shops everywhere, and when all else fails you can always buy oreos and oreo knock-offs and peanuts.
On one hand, I feel like I’m becoming nutritionally-deficient these days. On the other hand, China has the world’s largest population, and clearly this diet (however fiber and calcium and sometimes protein-deficient it might seem) works well enough for millions upon millions of people. I just need to figure out how to make it work for me.
On that note, I’m SO excited to see what I’ll be able to set up in terms of a kitchen once I get to my school. Every time I see rice makers and hotplates in the stores around here I think of more possibilities. Because the fact is, produce In Yunnan is awesome. I might not be able to get Italian-like semolina pasta, but if I’m willing to sub rice noodles I bet I’ll be able to make some tomato-basil primavera-like sauces, and I’m hoping that my Chinese coworkers will teach me how to cook more local dishes.
Generally, I’m pretty darn determined to put my future wok to work in ways it could never imagine. As for baking…well…solar ovens? Maybe? You laugh, but we shall see.
Last year, I did almost all of my shopping at a food co-op and at farmers’ markets, and my processed food intake dropped to near zero. I made all my own bread, sauces, curries, etc. Minneapolis made such a lifestyle relatively easy to maintain, even on an AmeriCorps stipend of $800 a month. China…not so much.
China has a huge culture of food, just as the US does (and, really, probably most other places). Everywhere you go there are outdoor fruit sellers, meat sellers, noodle sellers, etc. Bargaining is common, even expected in most cases, and most of what you can get is fresh. That’s the good part. The not so good part is the general lack of sanitation when it comes to food. Tap water isn’t potable here, and most produce must be washed in boiling water (and soap, to be safe) or peeled before it can be deemed truly safe. It’s not that eating an apple without washing it thoroughly would kill anyone, but it might not be so nice for your stomach.
Unfortunately, a lot of Chinese food isn’t necessarily so nice for your stomach—or at least my stomach. The diet is so different from what I was accustomed to in the States that I’ve gotten sick almost every day since arriving in Lincang. It’s fun, really. Don’t worry—it’s not like I’ve been throwing up or anything like that—but my stomach and digestive system as a whole just aren’t comfortable yet. I think most of that’s probably due to the high volume of MSG in the cafeteria dishes, and the rest can be tied to the amount of oil, specifically pork fat, much of the food is cooked in. Not so good for vegetarians with no meat-digesting enzymes. I’ve been trying to eat yogurt every day to get some local bacteria into my system, but straight up yogurt is harder to find than would be desired, and I can’t buy a large carton because I don’t have any means of refrigerating it.
My friends and I are pretty sure that what we’re eating here is, for the most part, not traditional Yunnanese food; rather, we think that these dishes are to Chinese cafeterias as pizza, hot dogs, and nachos are to cafeterias in the states. They are standard fare of not particularly high quality and are better than their American equivalents only in that they are cooked in a kitchen at this school rather than shipped to the cafeteria in frozen, individually wrapped servings. When I complained about the food to my dad, he raised the very good point of: “It’s a middle school cafeteria. Why do you think you always brought your own lunch?”
So what have I been eating? Well, for breakfast, I almost always have mantou (steamed buns, occasionally stuffed with red bean paste), and either yogurt (when I can get it) or warm soymilk—not my favorite beverage by a long shot, but nutritionally useful. Lunch is white rice and a mix of dishes from the cafeteria. Usually I end up with tofu of some sort, potatoes or eggplant, and some kind of green. The same goes for dinner. I used to eat a tasty tomato and egg dish pretty often, but I’m pretty sure now that the reason it tasted so good is that it was loaded up with MSG, so I avoid it. Actually, I avoid everything that’s super salty, because that’s a good indication it’s MSG-heavy. This sometimes means that the majority of my daily calories come from white rice. I’ve just bought some fruit for my room though, and I make sure to take a daily vitamin.
On the weekends, there’s more time and more motivation to eat out. We found a Thai/Burmese place nearby that’s got a lot of delicious, spicy food. This evening the entire CEI program went to a restaurant that specializes in food from the Wa minority. It was quite good—lots of potatoes, corn, and spice. There are also noodle shops everywhere, and when all else fails you can always buy oreos and oreo knock-offs and peanuts.
On one hand, I feel like I’m becoming nutritionally-deficient these days. On the other hand, China has the world’s largest population, and clearly this diet (however fiber and calcium and sometimes protein-deficient it might seem) works well enough for millions upon millions of people. I just need to figure out how to make it work for me.
On that note, I’m SO excited to see what I’ll be able to set up in terms of a kitchen once I get to my school. Every time I see rice makers and hotplates in the stores around here I think of more possibilities. Because the fact is, produce In Yunnan is awesome. I might not be able to get Italian-like semolina pasta, but if I’m willing to sub rice noodles I bet I’ll be able to make some tomato-basil primavera-like sauces, and I’m hoping that my Chinese coworkers will teach me how to cook more local dishes.
Generally, I’m pretty darn determined to put my future wok to work in ways it could never imagine. As for baking…well…solar ovens? Maybe? You laugh, but we shall see.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Some Observations on Language and Culture
Now that I’ve finally started blogging, there’re a few topics I want to hit before they become less timely. In other words, there might be several posts over the next couple days while I talk about my first two weeks here, but generally entries will probably be more spread out. Right now, I want to write the first of what will doubtless become countless entries concerning language and culture. Oh, before I get started, I just uploaded my first batch of photos! Check ‘em out: http://anamericaninheqing.shutterfly.com/
During the course of the Summer Training Program, the fellows are all living in dorms, with three fellows sharing each room. Maybe CEI put some thought into who was going to room with whom, or maybe it was just luck, but I could not be happier with my roommates. I live with Kristin, who grew up outside Seattle and graduated from Middlebury, and Chen Yanmei (Amber), who grew up in Guangdong province. As some of you folks might remember, I lived with a Chinese roommate when I studied abroad. I learned so much from her, and I know that without her my Beijing experience wouldn’t have been half as fulfilling. At the same time, we were (and probably still are) very different people.
Yanmei, on the other hand, is somebody I started to connect with almost instantly; she, Kristin, and I share significant values and are going through similar transitions. Even though Yanmei’s far less out of her comfort zone than Kristin and I are, having come from the States, CEI isn’t easy for her either. The three of us have formed a great support network for one another, celebrating good days and offering comfort when things go south. Yanmei’s also been so helpful in terms of my Chinese. Basically, most of the time I speak Chinese to her and she speaks English to me.
Kristin’s Chinese is a bit better than mine, and Yanmei’s English is better than Kristin’s Chinese, but it’s pretty amazing how much more comfortable with my Chinese I’ve gotten since arriving here. Don’t get me wrong—I’m still floundering a lot—but at least I’m not nearly as nervous to start talking these days. It helps that the American fellows have two hours of Chinese class every weekday afternoon and will presumably until we move to our schools.
I’d forgotten how much I love being able to move casually between English and Chinese, to switch languages mid-sentence and still be pretty darn sure that everyone around understands. Chinglish is the language of choice in Lincang, with fellows (both Chinese and American) switching all the time. I think as the STP continues and both nationalities start to feel more settled into using the other language, this phenomenon will only get more intense. Maybe we’ll create our own pidgin dialect?
Also, I will certainly write about Lincang Number One Middle School at some point, but I would just like to say that ninth graders should not under any circumstances be in school from 7:30 AM- 11:30 PM, and they shouldn’t have class on Saturday. I especially believe this because when the kids have class campus-wide bells start ringing at 6:40 AM. On Saturdays. Like I said, more on this topic later.
This morning a bunch of us went hiking, which in China does not necessarily mean dirt paths snaking gradually up a mountain. No, no. Instead, we had stairs going basically straight up a mountain. Lots of huffing and puffing, but we got to the top eventually and saw some beautiful views along the way. At the summit we celebrated with a picnic of junk food acquired from the on-campus shop. It was pretty funny. Tonight is dedicated to karaoke, which should be fun. I haven’t done that since the choir went to Japan.
Well, that’s all for now. Expect more soon, like I said.
During the course of the Summer Training Program, the fellows are all living in dorms, with three fellows sharing each room. Maybe CEI put some thought into who was going to room with whom, or maybe it was just luck, but I could not be happier with my roommates. I live with Kristin, who grew up outside Seattle and graduated from Middlebury, and Chen Yanmei (Amber), who grew up in Guangdong province. As some of you folks might remember, I lived with a Chinese roommate when I studied abroad. I learned so much from her, and I know that without her my Beijing experience wouldn’t have been half as fulfilling. At the same time, we were (and probably still are) very different people.
Yanmei, on the other hand, is somebody I started to connect with almost instantly; she, Kristin, and I share significant values and are going through similar transitions. Even though Yanmei’s far less out of her comfort zone than Kristin and I are, having come from the States, CEI isn’t easy for her either. The three of us have formed a great support network for one another, celebrating good days and offering comfort when things go south. Yanmei’s also been so helpful in terms of my Chinese. Basically, most of the time I speak Chinese to her and she speaks English to me.
Kristin’s Chinese is a bit better than mine, and Yanmei’s English is better than Kristin’s Chinese, but it’s pretty amazing how much more comfortable with my Chinese I’ve gotten since arriving here. Don’t get me wrong—I’m still floundering a lot—but at least I’m not nearly as nervous to start talking these days. It helps that the American fellows have two hours of Chinese class every weekday afternoon and will presumably until we move to our schools.
I’d forgotten how much I love being able to move casually between English and Chinese, to switch languages mid-sentence and still be pretty darn sure that everyone around understands. Chinglish is the language of choice in Lincang, with fellows (both Chinese and American) switching all the time. I think as the STP continues and both nationalities start to feel more settled into using the other language, this phenomenon will only get more intense. Maybe we’ll create our own pidgin dialect?
Also, I will certainly write about Lincang Number One Middle School at some point, but I would just like to say that ninth graders should not under any circumstances be in school from 7:30 AM- 11:30 PM, and they shouldn’t have class on Saturday. I especially believe this because when the kids have class campus-wide bells start ringing at 6:40 AM. On Saturdays. Like I said, more on this topic later.
This morning a bunch of us went hiking, which in China does not necessarily mean dirt paths snaking gradually up a mountain. No, no. Instead, we had stairs going basically straight up a mountain. Lots of huffing and puffing, but we got to the top eventually and saw some beautiful views along the way. At the summit we celebrated with a picnic of junk food acquired from the on-campus shop. It was pretty funny. Tonight is dedicated to karaoke, which should be fun. I haven’t done that since the choir went to Japan.
Well, that’s all for now. Expect more soon, like I said.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Welcome to Yunnan
It’s Friday morning here in Lincang City, Yunnan, China, and the only reason I can type this right now is that I’m on my laptop. Yesterday, we got an email saying that from 7:30 AM- 6 PM today there would be no electricity. No reason was given, but then, I’m learning not to expect such things here.
I arrived in Yunnan two weeks ago and spent the first half of that time in Kunming, the province capital. My days were filled with a teaching crash course, courtesy of Teach for All. At some point I will write a blog post detailing exactly how I feel about this organization and its methods; for now, suffice it to say that, while I appreciate being exposed to different sorts of pedagogy, after a full year filled with classroom observations I do not appreciate being informed that one particular pedagogy is better than all others. Just sayin’. My evenings were booked by social events of various sorts. It’s been fantastic getting to know the 29 other American and 27 Chinese fellows, as well as the very young and incredibly motivated staff. While some of the full-time staff members are probably around thirty, and the summer training staff range from late twenties to retirees, our CEO is 24 and clearly a genius of some sort. He started this organization four years ago and has the best Chinese I’ve ever heard from a non-native Mandarin speaker. Ever. Pretty inspiring.
But really, nearly everybody involved with this organization is inspiring in some way. All of the fellows graduated within the last three years and are putting a whole lot of faith into an ideal—the thought that, by spending two years in some of China’s neediest schools, by committing to cross-cultural teams, by leaving behind the comforts of American and Chinese middle class life, we can affect truly positive change within the educational system here.
A week ago, the fellows and I spent our last night in Kunming and celebrated our departure with a “Last Western Supper” at Salvador’s Café, an expat-run restaurant (Thanks, Steph!). Then it was off to Lincang city, the capital of a prefecture in the extreme southwest of the province, not far from the Myanmar border. Lincang is beautiful, a city graced by mountains on all sides. Clouds gather on the peaks overnight and rise in the mornings. It rains and shines in unpredictable intervals, and I’ve found myself carrying my raincoat everywhere. Although a relatively poor place, there’s very little pollution here compared to the larger Chinese cities I’ve spent time in. I have a lot of pictures and will try to upload some soon.
For the next month (three weeks, now), we’ll live on the campus of Lincang’s top middle school, continuing our training and teaching at an English summer camp organized specifically to give us practical experience. After a year of working in a Minneapolis Title I school, I know my way around a classroom, but working with these children is, unsurprisingly, quite different from my time with urban American kids. I’m quickly learning to deal with an almost entirely new set of behavior issues, classroom expectations, and languages. From 7:30 AM-10 PM daily I’ve been occupied with teaching, observing, lesson planning, attending training sessions, and studying Chinese. My Ma, ndarin is still a lot less handy than I’d like it to be, but I know that will change quickly. Even in two weeks I’ve started to feel more comfortable with my abilities.
After the conclusion of the Summer Training Program, I’ll be moving to Pengtun Middle School, along with one American and two Chinese fellows. It’s about 6-7 hours north of here, and I don’t know exactly what to expect, but I’m so excited to see it.
Anyway, I’m sure now that I’ve started this blog I’ll update fairly frequently. There’s so much about my first two weeks here that I haven’t even started to get into. I’ve actually written as much in journal since my arrival here as I wrote in my last seven months stateside. For now, happy Friday, and enjoy the weekend. I know I will.
I arrived in Yunnan two weeks ago and spent the first half of that time in Kunming, the province capital. My days were filled with a teaching crash course, courtesy of Teach for All. At some point I will write a blog post detailing exactly how I feel about this organization and its methods; for now, suffice it to say that, while I appreciate being exposed to different sorts of pedagogy, after a full year filled with classroom observations I do not appreciate being informed that one particular pedagogy is better than all others. Just sayin’. My evenings were booked by social events of various sorts. It’s been fantastic getting to know the 29 other American and 27 Chinese fellows, as well as the very young and incredibly motivated staff. While some of the full-time staff members are probably around thirty, and the summer training staff range from late twenties to retirees, our CEO is 24 and clearly a genius of some sort. He started this organization four years ago and has the best Chinese I’ve ever heard from a non-native Mandarin speaker. Ever. Pretty inspiring.
But really, nearly everybody involved with this organization is inspiring in some way. All of the fellows graduated within the last three years and are putting a whole lot of faith into an ideal—the thought that, by spending two years in some of China’s neediest schools, by committing to cross-cultural teams, by leaving behind the comforts of American and Chinese middle class life, we can affect truly positive change within the educational system here.
A week ago, the fellows and I spent our last night in Kunming and celebrated our departure with a “Last Western Supper” at Salvador’s Café, an expat-run restaurant (Thanks, Steph!). Then it was off to Lincang city, the capital of a prefecture in the extreme southwest of the province, not far from the Myanmar border. Lincang is beautiful, a city graced by mountains on all sides. Clouds gather on the peaks overnight and rise in the mornings. It rains and shines in unpredictable intervals, and I’ve found myself carrying my raincoat everywhere. Although a relatively poor place, there’s very little pollution here compared to the larger Chinese cities I’ve spent time in. I have a lot of pictures and will try to upload some soon.
For the next month (three weeks, now), we’ll live on the campus of Lincang’s top middle school, continuing our training and teaching at an English summer camp organized specifically to give us practical experience. After a year of working in a Minneapolis Title I school, I know my way around a classroom, but working with these children is, unsurprisingly, quite different from my time with urban American kids. I’m quickly learning to deal with an almost entirely new set of behavior issues, classroom expectations, and languages. From 7:30 AM-10 PM daily I’ve been occupied with teaching, observing, lesson planning, attending training sessions, and studying Chinese. My Ma, ndarin is still a lot less handy than I’d like it to be, but I know that will change quickly. Even in two weeks I’ve started to feel more comfortable with my abilities.
After the conclusion of the Summer Training Program, I’ll be moving to Pengtun Middle School, along with one American and two Chinese fellows. It’s about 6-7 hours north of here, and I don’t know exactly what to expect, but I’m so excited to see it.
Anyway, I’m sure now that I’ve started this blog I’ll update fairly frequently. There’s so much about my first two weeks here that I haven’t even started to get into. I’ve actually written as much in journal since my arrival here as I wrote in my last seven months stateside. For now, happy Friday, and enjoy the weekend. I know I will.
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