Shacking with the fellas

A few weekends ago (I know, I am a little behind on posting) I spent the night in the main boys dormitory with some of my students. During one of my classes, when I had the students suggest article subjects for class, one student-English name Terry-suggested the EPL. Luckily, my wee bit of soccer knowledge allowed me to know that he meant the English Premier League. I later found out he picked his name after John Terry, the English defender for Chelsea FC. Oddly enough, when I talked to him during the break, he informed me that Real Madrid was his favorite team. So I was ecstatic to find out that he watches almost all their games (even though they're on in the middle of the night). Well, he misses the mid week games due to the fact that the electricity is cut off after 23:00 during the week.

So, I arranged to watch a game with him and his roommates one weekend. In their room of eight beds, there are seven guys living there, as one moved out previously. Many students go home every weekend, so there was room for me to sleep in Terry's bed, and he in another. The extra bed is littered with old class materials and extra bedding. I have already visited the boys dorms and discussed it a little in this post. I had actually already been to this building and floor, as some of the students I taught last year live last year live there. The floor has four rooms, three of which have senior English students and one with sophomore English students. The game wasn't on until two in the morning, so I had plenty of time to hang out with them before it started. I came over at 22:30 (before the 23:00 curfew) with some fried dumplings and a six pack of Snow Beer. Most of them were pretty excited to have me spend the night, and honestly, I was excited to do so.

Immediately upon entrance in all four of the dorm rooms on this floor it is apparent what the main weekend activity of Chinese male college students is: computer games. They are wildly popular here. Wildly might be an understatement. At least two, if not three or four computers are set up on the one main table in the rooms otherwise cramped with beds, books, and bags. From the minute I showed up until a little after 02:00, there were never less than two guys playing in each room. If I had money to invest, I would be pouring it into companies developing games for the Chinese market. I have been told the girls also are glued to their computers, either watching movies, tv shows, or playing simpler flash games. They seem to really enjoy it, and have some beer or pop to drink while they play, as well as munch on sunflower seeds, spicy tofu strips, or spicy fried chicken. As I was when I first visited the dorms here, I was impressed by how well the guys got along and joked with each other. Their decorations were pretty sparse, the main one being an "inspirational" poster with a picture of all eight roommates that the school required them to make. Some of the guys had used a Sharpie to add some real inspiration to the poster. A few guys were reading on their cell phones (very popular here) or watching movies on their laptops, but playing or watching computer games was by far the most popular thing. Terry and I stayed up to watch the game, which Real Madrid won, so it was worth the late night.

In contrast to a Saturday night during my time at the University of Tulsa, these guys' night was pretty mild. The 23:00 curfew and lack of co-ed dorms really limit the type of parties that have suffused American campuses. Furthermore, the dorms are packed tightly enough to effectively prevent any sort of gathering even among the guys or girls. The fact that many students spend Friday and Saturday nights in the library studying or "relaxing" and reading magazines displays a studiousness that inhibits any keggers from gaining much ground. My (invalidated) opinion is that they choose to do more individual activities on the weekend nights because they already spend so much time with their roommates and classmates during the week. It's fundamentally difficult to be alone in a place as populated as this part of China, and even the senior students still have pretty regimented lives during the week-most of it with their classmates (who are also their roommates). I never saw my senior year roommates in an academic setting, as they had different majors in different colleges; so hanging with them and other friends on the weekend meant seeing someone different. Not so for the students at my university. It was a great experience to spend the night with them, and even furthered my respect for the resiliency that so many Chinese people in all walks of life exhibit to make their place in a very competitive and unforgiving economy/environment.

Mo' money, mo' problems

At the end of last year, I meant to write a blog with some sort of summary about my year teaching in China. For all sorts of reasons, my “year” teaching in China has turned into two. Yet, there is still a post it note on my desktop about writing a sort of summary blog. I was reminded of it last week when on a trip with a student and the subject of it came up. We were riding on a bus through the outskirts of Zhengzhou, the capital of Henan province. Henan province is northwest of Jiangsu, but more importantly is in the second line of provinces in China. By this I mean the row of provinces that border the coastal provinces, which are the most developed. So in places like Henan, and Zhengzhou, which is an emerging city, one can really see China’s development in process.

There are myriad works written about China’s economic and social development over the last 30 years. They are undoubtedly written by people much more intelligent and better informed that I. So, I don’t know that I have much to offer. Essentially, though, I think I ought to try to answer the frequent question “what’s China like?” as I saw it after a year here. Such a question is broad, so my answers ought to be. But to be succinct, China is busy. Busy building, busy selling, busy making, busy buying: in essence busy consuming.

This busyness worries and intrigues me. It worries me because I don’t believe that China can consume the way we do in America. I’m not sure that they want to do so, but most of what I see tells me they do. There’s no doubt that China is growing rapidly, wealth is increasing, and its society is modernizing, albeit much slower than the economy. The most common reason students have missed my classes this semester has been to attend driving lessons. Now surely every student that is taking driving lessons isn’t going to be driving his own car upon graduation…but the trend is shifting that way in China. And the roads are already crowded and the smog already thick. Chinese people love to display their wealth (I’m not saying Americans don’t). There may be many reasons for it, but I mainly attribute it to the fact that wealth is so new here. The fall of Imperial China, the civil war and Mao’s regime pretty much ruined any chance of China joining the Industrial Revolution. So, instead, now, China is doing its industrial revolution and its technological revolution at the same time. This means a family can go from farming rice to surfing the web on their smart phones in not too much time. With such a dramatic shift, why not buy the flashiest phone there is.

More precisely, I worry because the way America consumes is highly irresponsible (in my opinion). I generally believe that as the world continues to grow and consume naturally resources, the pressure on these finite resources will increase, causing tensions to escalate. I also believe as the gap between poor and rich widens, the moral question surrounding this gap will become more central in our lives. America puts a lot of pressure on natural resources, especially per capita. The wealth gap in America is huge, not because our poor are poor, but because our rich are really rich. China puts a lot of pressure on natural resources, but not so much per capita. Its wealth gap is huge because its poor are really poor and its rich are becoming really rich. Chinese people are very diligent and very nationalistic, thus if they put their minds to something, they most certainly can achieve it-if you don’t believe me consult an Olympics medal count from the most recent games. I am worried because if China tries to consume like America, which it really seems like they do; I think they will be able to do it, but only with huge conflicts that result from natural resources allocations and massive problems that come from unequal wealth distribution. China’s potential consumers are the most numerous in the world, so the problems and conflicts will be bigger; this is why I am worried about it.

Much of the reason I returned to China (besides the good pay for easy work) is that I am intrigued by the way China is developing and how it will choose to deal with the problems that, in my opinion, are nearly inevitable. Being here has allowed me to see the main of the advantages of an authoritarian government: when a public measure needs to be implemented, it is done so with amazing speed and efficiency. Of course, whether or not the public measure is beneficial or just is not weighed on by the public. In my opinion, which is obviously heavily influenced by my life in America, the efficiency isn’t worth the lack of control. Not at all, especially in the long run. China won’t be able to continue to open up its economy and grow its wealth without re-addressing some of the issues it put down via the Tian’anmen Square Massacre. Most of my students say that they just want a stable life, but yet also show an amazing propensity for coming to class with the newest cell phones, portable video players and name brand clothing. I’ll trust their actions on this one. I am very intrigued to see how the government responds to these desires while still keeping its incontestable grip on power and maintaining what it calls a “harmonious society.”

I recognize that this post may seem too serious and that I touch on all sorts of issues here that may be controversial, but I don’t know that I did a good enough job of expressing to friends and family when I was home this summer my general impression of living in the world’s most populous country. As you might expect, China is busy. It’s on the move, hustling here and there to get rich and gain power. I’m sure that about every country on Earth (except Bhutan) is doing the same thing, but it’s right in your face over here. It’s what I see every day.

Visit to Qutang

To my more faithful readers, no, there's no excuse for the two week delay in posting-but this post is long, if that's any concession.

Due to the swine flu vacation, the Chinese National Day vacation was shortened from eight days off school to just two. This put a wrench in any plans to make a trip of sizable distance. But, since it was the 60th Anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic, and because the break coincided with mid-autumn festival, I decided to keep it traditional. So, I accepted my good friend Qin Chen’s invitation to go back home with her. Danthemanstan also accepted the invitation; so we would both accompany Qin Chen back to her hometown of Qutang, near Hai’an, in the Nantong prefecture in southeastern Jiangsu province.

There are two major holidays in China. Chinese New Year (Spring Festival) is usually in late January or February and is about two weeks. National Day is October 1st and the holiday lasts one week. These three weeks are beyond crazy for travel. You can look back at my blog to read about the experience Dave and I had last year. This year Qin Chen had bought tickets ahead of time. Danthemanstan, Sarah, Sean, and I got up early and headed to the bus station on Thursday morning (Sean and Sarah were going to visit Zhao Min, another friend). Knowing the imminent crowd, I was keen on getting to the bus station early. Quite surprisingly, Qin Chen and Zhao Min didn’t share this urgency. Apparently they had never traveled on the actual holiday before and didn’t expect the crowds (see picture to understand what I mean by crowds). I don’t know how they have both lived here their whole lives and not understood the travel craziness on those days, but I don’t know lots of things. Either way, we made it into the bus station, pushing and shoving as best we could. At one point, I actually felt like I was floating as the pushing carried me off the ground. Some nasty pickpocket’s day was made as Danthemanstan had his wallet stolen the scrum.

When we got to Qutang, we went to Qin Chen’s grandparent’s house, as it was a holiday and her parents and aunt were there for the day. Danthemanstan and I were really excited about the National Day parade. In China, multiples of ten for anniversaries, birthdays, etc. are a big deal, so there was a full military parade in Beijing, through Tian’anmen square. We were interested because military parades aren’t that common in today’s world and because I am very intrigued by the Chinese patriotism/nationalism. Qin Chen wasn’t really interested at all, her grandpa showed some interest, and her grandmother was busy making us a feast. I am sure her family was intrigued by our intrigue in their national parade. We, of course had a delicious lunch, as the Qin family stayed true to the Chinese custom of offering guests copious food and drink.

After lunch, we headed to one of the local parks in Hai’an with Qin Chen’s grandfather. As a typical Chinese retiree, he goes to the park almost every day to play Chinese chess. Meanwhile her grandmother shops, cleans the house, and hits up the local mahjong hall. The park was pretty, and very similar to those in every other Chinese city. It was nice to sit and watch him play chess against some other old men and chat with Qin Chen. We attracted a fair bit of attention at the park, as foreigners are sparse in Hai’an. One man treated Danthemanstan and I like monkeys or Martians. He sat near us, pointed us out to anyone who would listen, and as I was writing a text message, was tapping at my phone’s screen while laughing. On the way to and from the park, I noticed that Grandpa Qin was very brazen in his street crossing, paying no attention to the oncoming cars at all. Dangerous as it may be, he is eighty and probably isn’t nearly as afraid of death as me. Or he’s just plain tough.

Dinner was just as tasty as lunch, and the best thing we had was fried lotus root stuffed with pork and greens. They were awesome. Generally, when eating with Chinese people, in order to be hospitable and good hosts, they will put food onto your plate for you. I don’t like this practice at all, but put up with it, as the people putting the food on my plate usually slaved away making scrumptious and abundant dishes for me. After Grandpa Qin had put more dumplings than I could ever eat into my bowl, I ate a few, and he was reaching over with more. I tried to refuse them (also expected in Chinese manners) but he actually poured some dumplings onto my hand blocking the bowl. They were hot, so I withdrew the hand; the dumplings were added to my already heaping bowl of dumplings. Grandpa Qin won. He was quite a character: another night he poured me a shot of baijiu mixed with ginseng out of a Sprite bottle. It kind of lingered and burned in my throat for a while. He didn’t seem to mind as he drank cupfuls. He also enthusiastically showed me pictures of when he was a soldier in the late 1950s. He was stationed in Xinjiang, the massive, mostly Muslim/Turkic province in northwestern China. China took over in the early 1950s. The takeover is called a “liberation” by the Chinese government, but my little knowledge makes it sound a little more complicated than that. Hence the reason soldiers like Grandpa Qin went out there to serve. I really wanted to talk with him about it, and started some conversation, but no one really seemed interested in talking about it. I was a little surprised about how little Qin Chen or her father knew or wanted to know about her Grandpa’s life. But, as a friend reminded me, life in China in the 1950s and 1960s was incredibly volatile, horrendous, and trying-so it might be something still too sensitive to discuss. It was cool enough to see the pictures though, he was quite proud of how young and handsome he looked fifty years ago.

We spent the night at Qin Chen’s rich uncle’s house-also in Hai’an (staying with the wealthiest relative is the modus operandi). It was quite nice, newly purchased and very well furnished. Danthemanstan was only staying for one night, so we got up the next morning. As we were on our way to the bus station, a classic Chinese experience occurred. Instead of getting to the station on time comfortably, we had to stop by one of Qin Chen’s friends’ parents’ restaurant. This has happened to me before when visiting Chinese friends. Instead of making it to the bus/train on time, thus reducing stress and making the visit better, the host will make sure to take the guest to one last place, to do one last thing. Thus, we had to hurry to the bus station; worried Danthemanstan would miss the last bus of the day. Even Qin Chen, who has spent so much time with some of us foreign teachers, can’t shed some classic Chinese tendencies now and then.

I spent the rest of that day the way most Chinese seemed to be spending it, walking around town, buying some snacks and shopping. I did buy a camera case, which was a way too complicated process for a country that is trying to use increased domestic consumerism to grow an economy at 8% annually. Visiting Qin Chen’s house in Qutang (the actual town/village where she lives) was very interesting and fun. Qin Chen and I rode bikes around town; it was very enjoyable. Qutang is a pretty small town, in that you can cover most of it on bike in half an hour. Yet, it’s still a full on, all senses, fast paced rush-as riding bikes in Chinese traffic, no matter how small the town, always is. There were a lot of people milling around due to the holiday and that there are villages all around the town, with rice, soybean, greens, and other fields interspersed. Qin Chen’s house hasn’t been hit by the Usain Bolt speed development in China, which makes it pretty cool to visit. In my opinion, it is a great example of the dramatic changes occurring in this country. The toilet consists of two concrete chunks on either side of a hole above a stagnant cesspool. It’s in the corner of a dirt floor, brick shed used mainly to store and dry bean stalks-which are used in one of the stoves (the other is gas). Meanwhile, Qin Chen sits in her parents’ bedroom on her laptop, sending videos she took with her camera phone to friends. Her cousin is talking with her and browsing and playing the collection of American pop songs on her phone.

As mentioned, the reason for the trip was the joint holiday of National Day and Mid-Autumn Festival. Like any relatively noteworthy holiday in China, Mid-Autumn Festival is celebrated by lighting off fireworks. Chinese fireworks (in China nonetheless). Qin Chen wasn’t too excited about the fireworks, but you bet I was. So I spent about $15 and got a lot of fireworks. I kind of just pointed at about everything the guy on the street had, and got a big box of the type of fireworks you see at a fireworks show. I had a great time setting them off in the street outside Qin Chen’s house. Her dad and uncle were equally enthusiastic, and her dad even lit his huge stash of black cats off. All the neighbors came to check it out, and some even brought their fireworks to the party. Other than that the holiday consisted of Qin Chen’s grandmother doing some sort of incense/candle/laying out of food prayer that was to remember and nourish dead relatives. Her grandmother was way more into it than anyone else. The painting above the small shrine was Taoist, but the shrine looked more Buddhist-all in all it was probably more of the difficult to classify Chinese traditional mystical beliefs.

I have touched in this blog, and others about visits to Chinese homes, about Chinese hospitality. I returned to China both because I lead a comfortable life here and I really enjoy learning more about and experiencing foreign cultures. Even so, I don’t enjoy or understand everything about China, and I’ve never been one to hold my tongue. Visiting Chinese people is an awesome experience because you get to see how many of the people on our planet live, and this helps a lot in understanding the things my students and friends do and think. It is also a very trying experience for one’s patience and tact. I am aware enough to recognize that I have trouble exercising both of those traits. When visiting people in America, (well people that have been in America for awhile) it’s not that trying, because, in sharing a culture, almost everything is understood. The towels are over there, the juice is in the fridge, and all that jazz. Not so in China. It’s not like getting juice or a towel is that difficult (although dry towels can sometimes oddly be in short supply) but it’s rather the way it’s done. Essentially Chinese people think that they are doing what’s best for me by directing and telling me what to do at all times. They also think they’re helping me by repeating questions, which are often unnecessary or inane to begin with. I am the guest, and additionally a foreigner, so it’s best for them to explain every detail and ask multiple questions about said detail. All these questions, instructions, and general overbearing attention do nothing but frustrate me and add stress. At times I wonder how many times I have to say I’ll shower in the morning to convey the fact that I do, in fact, want and plan to shower in the morning. In order to be polite (and thus inefficient) I will refrain from expressing my frustration to the host. But this just means the frustration grows greater. Not insulting the cook is easy to do at a family style meal where one serves one’s self, and even easier when it’s buffet style. It’s not so easy when the cook is sitting next to you and is putting the food onto your plate. In this case Qin Chen’s mother, father, and grandmother were good cooks, so it wasn’t a problem…but I can’t say the same for everywhere I’ve visited. In complaining about this I remember when my family used to host visitors to Des Moines through some cultural exchange program. I wonder if the Taiwanese girls that visited would later complain about how the rude Americans just left them alone, without repeating the questions many times and generally looking after them at all times. Then again, we did make bowls of white rice for them at every meal…and I haven’t had any bread and butter put before me yet. Then again, those fried lotus roots were damn good!

Swine flu vacation to Qingdao

After just two days of class, class was over. Well, temporarily, at least. A number of students had become infected with H1N1, so the school wasn’t going to take any risks: classes were cancelled. The students infected were all sent to the hospital, while classmates and roommates were put into quarantine. The security guards at the front gate took everyone’s temperature upon entry and exit. Well, they allowed those in cars and us foreign teachers to walk by uninhibited. Apparently if you have enough money to buy a car or are foreign, you can’t contract the flu. This was quite a change from the spring, when all foreigners (since we all look alike to them) were assumed to have the flu. Luckily, (for me) China since developed a local case of the swine flu, so I have regained my larger than life status as a foreigner here.

Now, the isolation of the classmates and roommates who were not displaying any symptoms may seem a bit draconian. I don’t deny that it was to an extent, and the authoritarian attitude with which it was carried out is unacceptable. But, in this case, I can’t say it was as extreme as most of what the Chinese government does. Our campus, and eastern China in general, is a petri dish for communicable diseases. Huge populations crowded into small living spaces combined with a complete lack of both sanitary conditions and (in my opinion) poor sanitary education means that diseases will spread here…and fast.

I had the opportunity to visit one of my friends in isolation. I did this partly because I hadn’t seen her since returning, and because she had clearly relayed to me the boredom of isolation, and I wanted to find out if all the rumors I was hearing were true. So, I went over to the building, was stared at by the guard and attendant until Yuxi came down to meet me. The guard stood a few feet away from us while we chatted. We maintained a good three-foot gap as we chatted in the entryway (I didn’t want to give anyone any reason to put me in quarantine). She explained that she and her three roommates were sharing three beds and a desk in an old classroom. I actually taught a class in the building last year. It is definitely among the worse of the buildings on campus, and is mainly just used for offices. She said it was unbearably hot (the fan was broken); they were essentially at a flash shower every other day due to volume of students and supply of showers/hot water. She had only been given thirty minutes to get her stuff together and get to the isolation building. Thus, she didn’t have the time, or calm of mind, to pack well. So, she and her roommates were playing cards and sending text messages to friends (and apparently foreign teachers) the whole time. This was on day two. It lasted nine days. I’ll let you imagine. She was in a quandary because friends could bring her things if she wanted…but her whole class was in quarantine. Because they take all their classes together and live with their classmates…her list of friends to ask was pretty short. And no, I couldn’t help. No boys in the girl’s dormitory. I had dinner with her the other night…she said it was horrible; she was glad it was over and didn’t want to talk about it.

As oft is the case in life, one man’s loss is another’s gain. So, after a day or two of doubt about how long classes would be cancelled, I headed to Shanghai to attend a party at the apartment of a girl from my original CIEE group, meet up with Clark (who taught here last year) and search for some stuff for my computer-(note-the Apple store in Shanghai is not yet open…or just really hard to find). While enjoying some amazing food cooked by Clark’s girlfriend, Danthemanstan called me to see if I was down for a trip. Of course I was, although I’d have to manage with what I had brought for a one-night stay. So, I grabbed an early train back to Changzhou and met up with Danthemanstan, Sean, and Sarah. Jordan had already headed up to Qingdao to meet up with some people from his CIEE group, and it was on a short list of places that would be good for this trip, so we headed up there.

Qingdao is a beautiful, clean, calm city on the beach. For those who haven’t been to China, or are only reading government approved media, saying that somewhere in China is calm and clean is a bold claim. Bold. Because China, in a few words, is crowded, dirty, loud, and busy. Well, actually, the western third of this country consists of a huge desert, massive tundra, an expansive steppe, and no people. But, the aforementioned words apply to the center and east. Qingdao’s traffic was relatively orderly, its streets wide, and sidewalks weren’t too overrun with vendors. The business side of the coast was filled with a not too loud port complimented with hordes of fishermen. Every gap in the boats featured some fit, older Chinese men swimming or doing a pre or post swim stretch/slap. The slap refers to the Chinese custom of slapping/hitting oneself in all sorts of places and ways when doing exercise. My skeptical and American mind sees this as pretty useless, but they did win more gold medals than us in the most recent Olympics, so I am trying to be more open minded about some Chinese health techniques (of course those medals might just be due to 13-year-old gymnasts and massive government rewards for obscure medals).

The pleasure side of the coast featured some great beaches, generally full of couples taking wedding photos. 9-9-09 was a big wedding day in China due to numerology. October 1st (National Day) was a big wedding day in China due to patriotism. We hit that gap in the middle-hence the couples. We spent a day at the beach, haggling beer and umbrella prices in between dips in the perfectly warm water. What wasn’t perfect was the swimsuit I had to buy-it was bigger than a Speedo, but not by much. We spent another day checking out the old Protestant church (Qingdao was a German concession for awhile) and trying to go to the Catholic Church…that was apparently closed to tourists contrary to the guidebook’s “guidance”. Notch one for the Protestants in the ongoing post-1517 tally. When searching for a hotel, I had my first encounter with the “no room at the inn” syndrome for foreigners. Lots of books about foreigners in China, especially just after the 1978 opening, talk about how foreigners are only allowed to stay in certain hotels. Ostensibly this is done to direct foreigners to the nicest hotels that can best serve their needs. Realistically, it was done as a control/record keeping measure, which is why it has pretty much vanquished in most cities. Qingdao is holding on to the tradition in order to most likely boost tourism revenues. My pitiful attempts at Chinese wouldn’t convince them to let us stay…although at first I used whatever charm I may have to convince the receptionist, but the boss was having none of it. The next hotel was too expensive, and we were walking out to genuinely go to another hotel, but it worked as a bargaining strategy: the receptionist came out and offered us a good rate.

Danthemanstan wasn’t keen on the description of Mt. Lao in the guidebook, so he checked out some temples and the old prison next to our hotel while we climbed the famous Taoist and Buddhist mountain. Disappointingly, you can’t climb all the way to the peak (or we couldn’t figure how) but the climb does end in a pretty cool Taoist temple. Cool not because of the figures in the temple (same old, same old) but due to the sweet scenery and views of a mountaintop temple. Among the more interesting things we encountered on the mountain was tan, almost opaque gel that many vendors had for sale. It was made of something that looked like kind of like camel’s hair…but apparently came from the ocean. I tried to have Xingxing translate the name of it (which the vendor wrote down for me) but she said it didn’t really make sense and was more like the local name of the dish less than a description. It was served with garlic, peppers, vinegar, and hot sauce. They gave it some flavor, but it still pretty much tasted like it looked: bland and gooey.

Hands down the best part of the trip was what went into my mouth (that’s not an innuendo). Qingdao is famous for Tsing Tao beer (it uses the old English approximate spelling). It’s essentially the only beer exported from China to the rest of the world, although everyone here drinks Snow Beer (kind of like how you can find Budweiser in Europe, but no Bud Light). It’s pretty good, and uber-ubiquitous around town. You can even get it in a bag on the street: we did. We took the brewery tour, which was mostly through a museum. The best part was watching the bottling room, which despite 17% investment by Anheuser Busch has a long way to go to match the bottling at the brewery in St. Louis. Along with lots of Qingdao beer (including the dark variety) we ate fantastically. Kebabs of all variety were very tasty and go great with beer and some fried rice. By far the best thing that Qingdao had to offer was clams in a pepper sauce. They were incredibly tasty. I admit that I forgot my manners at one dinner and just parked the lazy Susan in front of me and unloaded all of them onto my plate. Now I just have to find a restaurant in Changzhou that serves ‘gala’ the clams…although we’re a bit inland, they might not be quite so good.

Caps and Gowns

The impetus for this post occurred one day at the end of last semester. I was heading to lunch one day, and noticed a few groups of students in caps and gowns taking pictures. Then I noticed there were two little tables set up with posters, piles of caps and gowns, and workers with some big time cameras. It was hard to figure out that the tables represented vendors offering to take some memorable pictures of the students in the cap and gown for graduation. Naturally, I went back to my apartment, grabbed my camera, and snapped some pictures. I didn't really know, but I was really hoping, for the students' sake, that this was not the extent of their graduation ceremony. But, I wasn't too optimistic.

So, I talked to Xingxing, who if you haven't read before, was by far my best Chinese friend and the person who helped me the most this past year. She was able to quell my concerns a little. She informed me that there was a sort of graduation ceremony. It consisted of some speeches by the administration and a student representative which were "were kind of conventional and cliche." One speech was pretty good and genuine, she did say. Maybe not that different from a U.S. college graduation. It was held in the school gym and wasn't too formal. The degrees weren't handed out to each student, but rather just one representative from each department. To me this was quite a poor showing for a country that loves pomp and circumstance in ceremonies. Additionally, though, each department held some sort of dinner for the graduating students. Xingxing said this was lots of fun, a great time to say final goodbyes to classmates and teachers, although they did have to pay for it.

I find the twenty minute rental of a cap and gown both hilarious and sad. Hilarious because the simple little table on the side of the road is just so efficiently Chinese. Seeing students walking all around campus in caps and gowns despite them not wearing them for any ceremony was perfectly ironic. Sad because there was no graduation ceremony.

I readily recognize that many high school and some college graduation ceremonies in the States are a bit egregious considering that for many Americans (because of our great community college network) getting a degree is not a really difficult thing to do. I am not belittling graduating college at all, but compared with the opportunities and competition in many other countries around the world, it's not nearly as difficult. To America's credit, we do get a whole lot of our citizens through college.

So, in comparison, the accomplishments of many of the students I got to know were pretty remarkable. For one, they made it through Chinese high school, which is saying a whole lot. Xingxing, who is now studying for her master's in England, is the first member of her family to graduate high school or college. Her parents are self made factory owners who both have junior high school educations. Her grandmother may very well not know the difference between England and Ecuador, having spent an entire life bending over in the fields. Another friend, Qin Chen is the first member of her entire extended family to graduate college. Cousins, aunts, uncles, even second cousins, she is the only one. Also an English major, Zhao Min was the first in her family to graduate. Zhao Min's older sister left school after junior high, as the military like atmosphere didn't sit well with her. But Zhao Min persevered through the 05:45 mandatory morning jog and classes lasting until 22:00 in high school, as well as freezing nights with no heating and freshmen military training in college.

It is almost harrowing that family and friends weren't at least invited to a ceremony to celebrate what to me are pretty momentous achievements for both the individuals and the country as a whole. I am sure that the internationally known major universities in China have ceremonies and other celebrations closer to those I experienced at TU. Our school is average to below average on the national scale. Nonetheless, I don't think that devalues the personal accomplishments of many of the students. Many of the poorer students' parents have saved for years to afford the tuition for their (often only) child. I think it's quite unfortunate they weren't able to see the culmination of all that work and share in it with their child, the student.