I'm in a dark and smoky room. It is weakly air conditioned. Rows of computers fill the center of the room and line the walls. Rows of people sit intently in red armchairs staring at the glowing screens in front of them. To my right, an older guy chain smokes and plays on line mah-jong. To my left a young woman is using e-mail and instant messaging on a site featuring a pink background and kewpie dolls.
My internet access on my laptop has been blocked for more than 24 hours, and I am having a fit because I'm out of touch with my office. After all, for an attorney, a mere 7000 miles of distance should not impede my ability to have contact with work. Of course, without my secure software on my laptop, I cannot log on to the office, but I can send pathetic, longing messages from my personal e-mail from this internet cafe.
Conditions are less than ideal. Someone has left a half-eaten sandwich next to the monitor. The bottoms of my sandals are sticking to the floor. Smoke from the chain-smoker to my right is making my eyes water. But I will say that the connection is zooming fast, which is the most important thing. There are people in here watching movies and playing very advanced war games, so you know these are very fast connections.
The proprietress is 50-something, and is watching some sort of Chinese soap opera on-line when she's not waiting on customers. To get in, you give them your national identity card (or in my case, my driver's licence) and 10 yuan as a deposit. They register you in, and give you back your card, but keep your money until you check out. 10 yuan is about $1.25, I think it costs 3 yuan an hour to use the computer.
We are buying a computer for my mother's birthday next month. It will cost $499 for the laptop that she wants. It would be cheaper just to make her go to the Internet Cafe, but it would be a long commute from Canada.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Seal Making
Our teacher for Seal Making was Professor Jim, the same person who taught us about Calligraphy. He told us, though an interpreter, that there are four traditional Chinese arts: poetry, calligraphy, painting and seal cutting. All Chinese artists are expected to be well versed in all four.
This made me smile because I couldn't imagine Andy Warhol engaged in poetry writing. Perhaps I underestimate his scope.
The original purpose of seals was to identify the sender of a message. Seals were to be as unique as a thumprint. In ancient China, before the invention of paper, messages were written on bamboo scrolls, then tied with string, the string sealed with mud, and the mud imprinted with the sender's seal. If the message was opened, the seal could not be made by anyone other than the sender, so the tampering would be evident.
With use, over time the edge of the seal wears down. Sometimes moderns seal makers with break down the seal edges to make them look old. Even today, some Chinese use their seals for their signature at the bank.
Inexpensive seals are made of soapstone, but there is a kind of stone the same color as chicken blood (what color is chicken blood?) that is used for expensive seals. In our class we used soapstone, which is very soft, and we were glad, because even with very soft stone, it took a long time to etch a seal.
First those of us without Chinese names were assigned a name. My son is named James, which has no Chinese equivalent, so they assigned him the same name as James Bond, 007, which he found rather thrilling. Then the simplified characters for the name are translated to ancient or more formal letters, which always require more strokes. Then we reversed the image, and copied it in ink onto the bottom of the soapstone.
James and I worked on his seal for over an hour, etching tiny strokes in a small block of soapstone requires patience. Somehow, in the same time, Sarah did two, one in English and one in Chinese. The teacher made sure our etching was deep enough to show up on imprint. Seals always use red ink, and James and I were quite pleased with the red mark on our notebooks. He has the seal to take home, I will probably take it to class with me Monday to talk about it with the class.
I hadn't expected to enjoy calligraphy or seal cutting so much, but the pleasure the instructor took in his craft crossed the language barrier as though it did not exist. It is always wonderful to meet someone who loves something, and is happy to share it with others.
This made me smile because I couldn't imagine Andy Warhol engaged in poetry writing. Perhaps I underestimate his scope.
The original purpose of seals was to identify the sender of a message. Seals were to be as unique as a thumprint. In ancient China, before the invention of paper, messages were written on bamboo scrolls, then tied with string, the string sealed with mud, and the mud imprinted with the sender's seal. If the message was opened, the seal could not be made by anyone other than the sender, so the tampering would be evident.
With use, over time the edge of the seal wears down. Sometimes moderns seal makers with break down the seal edges to make them look old. Even today, some Chinese use their seals for their signature at the bank.
Inexpensive seals are made of soapstone, but there is a kind of stone the same color as chicken blood (what color is chicken blood?) that is used for expensive seals. In our class we used soapstone, which is very soft, and we were glad, because even with very soft stone, it took a long time to etch a seal.
First those of us without Chinese names were assigned a name. My son is named James, which has no Chinese equivalent, so they assigned him the same name as James Bond, 007, which he found rather thrilling. Then the simplified characters for the name are translated to ancient or more formal letters, which always require more strokes. Then we reversed the image, and copied it in ink onto the bottom of the soapstone.
James and I worked on his seal for over an hour, etching tiny strokes in a small block of soapstone requires patience. Somehow, in the same time, Sarah did two, one in English and one in Chinese. The teacher made sure our etching was deep enough to show up on imprint. Seals always use red ink, and James and I were quite pleased with the red mark on our notebooks. He has the seal to take home, I will probably take it to class with me Monday to talk about it with the class.
I hadn't expected to enjoy calligraphy or seal cutting so much, but the pleasure the instructor took in his craft crossed the language barrier as though it did not exist. It is always wonderful to meet someone who loves something, and is happy to share it with others.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Caligraphy
The teacher's name is Lin Xu Lan. He is a professor of chemical engineering here at the Nanjing University of Science and Technology, but caligraphy has been his hobby all his adult life. He says that, "Sometimes the hobby is the teacher." Speaking through an interpreter, he told us that caligraphy consists of four things:
1. The concept for the caligraphy;
2. The writing of the caligraphy;
3. The artist's signature and dating of the caligraphy; and
4. The placing of a seal on the caligraphy.
He says that only China has a history of using writing as an art form itself. Similarly, Chinese landscapes differ from Western oil painting. Chinese landscapes have multiple points of view, instead of a single one. Chinese landscapes are always painted on paper, instead of canvas. The best caligraphy paper comes from Xuanzhou. Caligraphy brushes are made from wolf hair or sheep hair (wool?). Historically, caligraphy was done with a block of ink made from pine smoke (not sure of the translation here, possibly pine resin mixed with charcoal?) and an ink stone ground down the block of ink, then the resultant powder was mixed with water to make ink.
Our teacher uses black ink from a bottle. He says that using different thicknesses of ink creates five colors from a single ink. He shows us how it is done, then lets us try, using two simple charachters, one for "river" and one for "mountain". Ours look childlike.
Then he shows us how he draws a landscape. The paper looks like tissue papers, but feels heavier. The landscape does have a number of focal points, then he signs and dates it, and puts several red seal prints on it. All seals are red. He uses four. One has his name on it, another the name of the style of caligraphy he uses, another the name of the school where he studied caligraphy and a fourth with the name of his caligraphy teacher.
I was most impressed in the personal pleasure the teacher seemed to have in caligraphy, and his willingness to share that pleasure with us. One of the American teachers is a long time amateur landscape artist, and she was extremely happy watching him and asking questions. The teacher had written a book about the subject, and I was pleased to see that it was small but had beautiful reproductions in it. Assuming he has the same pressure to produce academic work that professors do in the United States, the fact that he took time away from his professional life to write a book about his art is a remarkable thing.
1. The concept for the caligraphy;
2. The writing of the caligraphy;
3. The artist's signature and dating of the caligraphy; and
4. The placing of a seal on the caligraphy.
He says that only China has a history of using writing as an art form itself. Similarly, Chinese landscapes differ from Western oil painting. Chinese landscapes have multiple points of view, instead of a single one. Chinese landscapes are always painted on paper, instead of canvas. The best caligraphy paper comes from Xuanzhou. Caligraphy brushes are made from wolf hair or sheep hair (wool?). Historically, caligraphy was done with a block of ink made from pine smoke (not sure of the translation here, possibly pine resin mixed with charcoal?) and an ink stone ground down the block of ink, then the resultant powder was mixed with water to make ink.
Our teacher uses black ink from a bottle. He says that using different thicknesses of ink creates five colors from a single ink. He shows us how it is done, then lets us try, using two simple charachters, one for "river" and one for "mountain". Ours look childlike.
Then he shows us how he draws a landscape. The paper looks like tissue papers, but feels heavier. The landscape does have a number of focal points, then he signs and dates it, and puts several red seal prints on it. All seals are red. He uses four. One has his name on it, another the name of the style of caligraphy he uses, another the name of the school where he studied caligraphy and a fourth with the name of his caligraphy teacher.
I was most impressed in the personal pleasure the teacher seemed to have in caligraphy, and his willingness to share that pleasure with us. One of the American teachers is a long time amateur landscape artist, and she was extremely happy watching him and asking questions. The teacher had written a book about the subject, and I was pleased to see that it was small but had beautiful reproductions in it. Assuming he has the same pressure to produce academic work that professors do in the United States, the fact that he took time away from his professional life to write a book about his art is a remarkable thing.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Four furnaces of China
We are staying in Nanjing, which is one of the "four furnaces of China." It was about 95 degrees today and the humidity was about the same. What, you say? It's just like home? Well, actually it is. The people from Denver complain bitterly, but I have very little to say about the heat, since it really is this hot in July and August in Tallahassee. Since both my accomodations and my classroom have air conditioning, I can't complain.
People are sensible about the heat here. There are few people out mid-day, and the streets team in the evening. In the early morning, old people people exercise and people take their babies out for air in the square near our hotel. Even many of the street vendors close in the middle of the day. One of my colleagues borrowed a bicycle, which promptly got a flat, and she couldn't fix it until this evening.
The young women here wear summer dresses, knee length or a tiny bit higher, but they don't show stomachs or chests. The dresses often have very classic styles, and they often wear high heeled sandals. They are very pretty. Of course, most of the university students wear blue jeans. I am beginning to think that all university students around the world wear blue jeans.
The campus is well shaded because nearly every street is lined with mature trees. An urban campus, it has an extraordinary amount of green space, including little forested areas with concrete paths through them, and a lovely man made lake.
But there are also deep stormwater run off canals, that smell a trifle too much like open sewers for my taste. Everything has a downside, I suppose.
People are sensible about the heat here. There are few people out mid-day, and the streets team in the evening. In the early morning, old people people exercise and people take their babies out for air in the square near our hotel. Even many of the street vendors close in the middle of the day. One of my colleagues borrowed a bicycle, which promptly got a flat, and she couldn't fix it until this evening.
The young women here wear summer dresses, knee length or a tiny bit higher, but they don't show stomachs or chests. The dresses often have very classic styles, and they often wear high heeled sandals. They are very pretty. Of course, most of the university students wear blue jeans. I am beginning to think that all university students around the world wear blue jeans.
The campus is well shaded because nearly every street is lined with mature trees. An urban campus, it has an extraordinary amount of green space, including little forested areas with concrete paths through them, and a lovely man made lake.
But there are also deep stormwater run off canals, that smell a trifle too much like open sewers for my taste. Everything has a downside, I suppose.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Harry Potter
One of my students is an English major and owns every Harry Potter book, which she bought for list price at the Foreign Language Book Store downtown. Sarah refused to leave the United State until her mother promised to send her the latest book as soon as it was issued by Federal Express. But it turns out that it would have cost over $150 US to send the book to Nanjing, so we bought it here, even though we had to pay list price.
If Sarah could have waited, we could have bought it in the US for $18, but she says that since she’s going to school the day after we get home she simply had to read it now, because everyone else will have read it. Generally, I would have been willing to let her suffer through this trauma, but today she has a bad cold and a little bit of “traveler’s stomach” and I felt sorry for her.
So James and I took a taxi and paid the huge sum of 218 RMB for the brand new hardcover Harry Potter. We tried to make up for this insane spending by shopping at Carrefour (sort of a French version of Wal-mart). But I was very pleased with myself for managing this foray without assistance, except for someone writing down the name of the Foreign Language Book Store, an English speaking clerk explaining the price and giving us directions to the supermarket, and the extremely polite and honest taxi drivers, which are all I have encountered here.
Now the kids want me to start taking the bus. Maybe next week.
If Sarah could have waited, we could have bought it in the US for $18, but she says that since she’s going to school the day after we get home she simply had to read it now, because everyone else will have read it. Generally, I would have been willing to let her suffer through this trauma, but today she has a bad cold and a little bit of “traveler’s stomach” and I felt sorry for her.
So James and I took a taxi and paid the huge sum of 218 RMB for the brand new hardcover Harry Potter. We tried to make up for this insane spending by shopping at Carrefour (sort of a French version of Wal-mart). But I was very pleased with myself for managing this foray without assistance, except for someone writing down the name of the Foreign Language Book Store, an English speaking clerk explaining the price and giving us directions to the supermarket, and the extremely polite and honest taxi drivers, which are all I have encountered here.
Now the kids want me to start taking the bus. Maybe next week.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
20 Questions
Today I told my students that they had to ask me a question, and before I answered, tell me what my answer would be. I also told them they couldn't ask the same question twice. I had questions about religion in America, about boyfriends in high school (actually Sarah handled all high school and popular culture questions), about Condileeza Rice, about the current popularity of George Bush, and about what sort of car I drive, and how many cars there are in the United States.
Like all young people, they struggle with stereotypes. They are appalled that some Americans know little about China, but know little about Latin America themselves. I repeat to them like a mantra that most English speakers in the world are not Americans, and themselves speak English as a second language, but they still want to learn American idioms. I indulge them to a limited extent, particularly when something is raised in the textbook, but mostly I try to focus them on their real use for English: in graduate school, and in the business world.
All of my students read and write more comprehensively than they speak, and their errors are the grammatical errors of people who think in Chinese. We used to have a Haitian immigrant in my section at the Attorney General's Office, and all of her grammatical errors resulted from direct translation from French. But as I remind myself practically hourly, my failure to speak good Chinese is not reflective of my overall intelligence, and their inability to express themselves in English is not reflective of their intelligence.
Even though they are young, it is aggravating to me that I know that no matter how hard they try, these young people will always have a significant Chinese accent. It seems unfair, they are in many ways quite fluent, yet I know they will suffer prejudice because of their accents.
Like all young people, they struggle with stereotypes. They are appalled that some Americans know little about China, but know little about Latin America themselves. I repeat to them like a mantra that most English speakers in the world are not Americans, and themselves speak English as a second language, but they still want to learn American idioms. I indulge them to a limited extent, particularly when something is raised in the textbook, but mostly I try to focus them on their real use for English: in graduate school, and in the business world.
All of my students read and write more comprehensively than they speak, and their errors are the grammatical errors of people who think in Chinese. We used to have a Haitian immigrant in my section at the Attorney General's Office, and all of her grammatical errors resulted from direct translation from French. But as I remind myself practically hourly, my failure to speak good Chinese is not reflective of my overall intelligence, and their inability to express themselves in English is not reflective of their intelligence.
Even though they are young, it is aggravating to me that I know that no matter how hard they try, these young people will always have a significant Chinese accent. It seems unfair, they are in many ways quite fluent, yet I know they will suffer prejudice because of their accents.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Learning to Teach
I have made a seating chart so I can keep people straight. I have butchered the names of some of my students so badly that one took an English name today in self-defence. She's named herself, "Apple." I find the long reach of California astonishing.
This morning the students all had to get up and give a short chat about their major. The University of Nanjing is a highly competitive engineering and technology school. None of my students is from Nanjing.
When they take entrance tests, they designate 6 possible major fields, and order their preference. Then, depending on their grades, (and, I suspect, the class needs of the school) they are placed in one of the six fields. One young woman's sixth choice was environmental engineering, she is studying water quality. I told her that she has extremely important work and by the time she retires, it will be her first choice.
There is another young woman studying weapons technology, several young men studying power engineering, one industrial engineer, one human resourses management student, and one lone English major, who hopes to be a translator. I was sort of interested to hear that in power engineering, the men outnumber the women by almost the same percentage as in the United States.
Our textbook is very focused on working on the cultural translation problems people have in a new country. I'm supposed to keep them focused on the issues one must consider when approaching any new culture, but they (and Sarah) have a tendency to focus only on the differences between American and Chinese culture. This is fun, but I'm trying to get through to them that the majority of English speakers speak English as a second language, so they will have significant barriers to communication.
After seven or eight years of English study, these students are strong readers and writers, but relatively weak speakers of English. We'll see how far we can get in the next three weeks.
Classroom conversation are far ranging. Today we touched on American views of weapons ownership, standardized testing in China and America, and China's one child policy. The students are highly intelligent and have insightful ideas, but feel frustrated in their attempts to express themselves in English. I'm pleased when they try, and try to make them slow down so that they are easier to understand. Pity that teaching pays so poorly, I can see the attraction.
This morning the students all had to get up and give a short chat about their major. The University of Nanjing is a highly competitive engineering and technology school. None of my students is from Nanjing.
When they take entrance tests, they designate 6 possible major fields, and order their preference. Then, depending on their grades, (and, I suspect, the class needs of the school) they are placed in one of the six fields. One young woman's sixth choice was environmental engineering, she is studying water quality. I told her that she has extremely important work and by the time she retires, it will be her first choice.
There is another young woman studying weapons technology, several young men studying power engineering, one industrial engineer, one human resourses management student, and one lone English major, who hopes to be a translator. I was sort of interested to hear that in power engineering, the men outnumber the women by almost the same percentage as in the United States.
Our textbook is very focused on working on the cultural translation problems people have in a new country. I'm supposed to keep them focused on the issues one must consider when approaching any new culture, but they (and Sarah) have a tendency to focus only on the differences between American and Chinese culture. This is fun, but I'm trying to get through to them that the majority of English speakers speak English as a second language, so they will have significant barriers to communication.
After seven or eight years of English study, these students are strong readers and writers, but relatively weak speakers of English. We'll see how far we can get in the next three weeks.
Classroom conversation are far ranging. Today we touched on American views of weapons ownership, standardized testing in China and America, and China's one child policy. The students are highly intelligent and have insightful ideas, but feel frustrated in their attempts to express themselves in English. I'm pleased when they try, and try to make them slow down so that they are easier to understand. Pity that teaching pays so poorly, I can see the attraction.
Living with a Celebrity
When we are sitting in a restaurant, people come up to us and want to take my son's picture. They stare at him, practice saying "hello" to him, and are otherwise completely fascinated. A waitress at a local restaurant is demanding that he bring her a picture of himself. James is eight, and his hair is light brown, and he has very blue eyes. There is another little boy with fair hair and blue eyes who is a son of one of the other teachers, and he gets the same sort of attention.
My sixteen year old daughter gets some stares, but I, at 43, am essentially invisible. Of course, from the back, I could pass for a Chinese woman who's had a bad permanent wave. That's one of the things I like about being here, I'm not noticeably thin, I'm average.
Nanjing has enough foreigners living here so that we are not complete freaks, but we are sort of novelties. As I am least affected by it, I don't mind it. Sarah says she doesn't care because they don't stare at her much. James says, "it's sort of creepy and it's sort of fun and it's sort of weird."
My sixteen year old daughter gets some stares, but I, at 43, am essentially invisible. Of course, from the back, I could pass for a Chinese woman who's had a bad permanent wave. That's one of the things I like about being here, I'm not noticeably thin, I'm average.
Nanjing has enough foreigners living here so that we are not complete freaks, but we are sort of novelties. As I am least affected by it, I don't mind it. Sarah says she doesn't care because they don't stare at her much. James says, "it's sort of creepy and it's sort of fun and it's sort of weird."
Monday, July 23, 2007
First Day of School
After much trepidation and preparation, today was the first day of school. Class started at 8:00 am, but the doors of the school don't open until 7:50 am. I blew in at about 7:55 am (Sarah and I took a slightly wrong turn en route) and wrote on the board, "Good morning, welcome to English class." I also wrote my name and Sarah's name.
I have 21 students, all undergraduates. With a couple of exceptions, all are engineering students, including explosives, civil, industrial, and electronic. There is one accounting major and one English major. Each class has a monitor, which is sort of vaguely like a head boy in the English private school system. Sometimes they are elected by the students and sometimes appointed by the teacher.
We had an election for the monitor. Seven people applied, we had a vote, and then the top two vote recipients had a run off. The English major won, 41-7. Sarah was the Supervisor of Elections. Unfortunately, we did the election last in the day, and I ran over about 7 minutes, which I think is unforgivable, particularly considering that the class is 3.5 hours long. I'll let them go early tomorrow, I swear.
We had lunch with a number of other teachers, who had received a number of questions from their students, including invitations to lunch, and offers to teach them to cook. So I now feel inferior, because my students have not offered to adopt me. As a group, they have good reading and writing skills, and more limited oral skills, which are, after all, about practice, practice, practice.
I feel fortunate to have this opportunity, but I am working very hard. I'm trying to hear what the students have to say, trying to keep focused on the lesson plan, trying to execute on the lesson plan. It was like a 3.5 hour legal hearing. Well, maybe not that bad. But it was tough.
I have 21 students, all undergraduates. With a couple of exceptions, all are engineering students, including explosives, civil, industrial, and electronic. There is one accounting major and one English major. Each class has a monitor, which is sort of vaguely like a head boy in the English private school system. Sometimes they are elected by the students and sometimes appointed by the teacher.
We had an election for the monitor. Seven people applied, we had a vote, and then the top two vote recipients had a run off. The English major won, 41-7. Sarah was the Supervisor of Elections. Unfortunately, we did the election last in the day, and I ran over about 7 minutes, which I think is unforgivable, particularly considering that the class is 3.5 hours long. I'll let them go early tomorrow, I swear.
We had lunch with a number of other teachers, who had received a number of questions from their students, including invitations to lunch, and offers to teach them to cook. So I now feel inferior, because my students have not offered to adopt me. As a group, they have good reading and writing skills, and more limited oral skills, which are, after all, about practice, practice, practice.
I feel fortunate to have this opportunity, but I am working very hard. I'm trying to hear what the students have to say, trying to keep focused on the lesson plan, trying to execute on the lesson plan. It was like a 3.5 hour legal hearing. Well, maybe not that bad. But it was tough.
Hand Laundry
The advertised washing machines have not materialized, and we cannot find a place for wash, dry & fold, so we are doing our laundry by hand. In so doing, it appears that we are simply acting local. Everybody does laundry by hand here, including the American teachers.
Sarah did not understand my emphasis on lightweight clothes, but now that she has washed and wrung out her jeans, she has seen the light, and wants to buy more pants. Light weight pants.
Directions: Put water in bath tub. Add detergent and bleach, if necessary. Sometimes the water has a slightly muddy appearance, but that can't be helped. Put color sorted clothes in water. Wash by rubbing the cloth together, working hard on stained areas. In the case of my son's socks, removing stains is a hopeless case, so I just rub until I get sick of it. They are at least somewhat improved through the process. Drain water from tub, squeeze water from clothes and then refill tub for rinse. Wringing the clothes well is key to having them dry in a reasonable period of time, particularly when there is high humidity, as here.
This morning I only had time to finish the white clothes, and I've laid aside the dark clothes for tomorrow. I'm trying to consider it this way: Instead of spending time in standing traffic, I'm spending time doing hand laundry, which is both good exercise and good thinking time.
Sarah did not understand my emphasis on lightweight clothes, but now that she has washed and wrung out her jeans, she has seen the light, and wants to buy more pants. Light weight pants.
Directions: Put water in bath tub. Add detergent and bleach, if necessary. Sometimes the water has a slightly muddy appearance, but that can't be helped. Put color sorted clothes in water. Wash by rubbing the cloth together, working hard on stained areas. In the case of my son's socks, removing stains is a hopeless case, so I just rub until I get sick of it. They are at least somewhat improved through the process. Drain water from tub, squeeze water from clothes and then refill tub for rinse. Wringing the clothes well is key to having them dry in a reasonable period of time, particularly when there is high humidity, as here.
This morning I only had time to finish the white clothes, and I've laid aside the dark clothes for tomorrow. I'm trying to consider it this way: Instead of spending time in standing traffic, I'm spending time doing hand laundry, which is both good exercise and good thinking time.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Wal-Mart
Sarah asked me today why I bothered to come all the way to China if I was just going to shop at Wal-Mart. I didn't actually have a good explanation for that. I guess because two other teachers were going with their kids, and because I needed some things and Wal-Mart is one stop shopping. It was marvelously chaotic, like Christmas, only people are more accustomed to such crowding and move smoothly through, almost never touching. The carts are smaller, the density of product presentation much higher, and the general appearance more spartan. But it's still Wal-Mart, with the yellow happy face, the picture of Sam Walton at the front of the store, and a big pyramid of photos of "servant leaders." Gotta love the Communist influence on Wal-Mart, of all corporations.
Sarah selected all her own clothes for this trip. I gave her a long lecture about modest clothes, which she dutifully obeyed, but I didn't give her an appropriate lecture about, shall we say, street conditions. People hack and spit in the streets, there are smells of open sewers, and there is mud everywhere. Sarah brought a pair of those trendy jeans that drag on the ground. Let's just say they're pretty gross, but she doesn't want to use bleach when she washes them.
Yes, we're doing our laundry by hand here, like everybody else. Sarah is taking it as well as could be expected. James doesn't care, because I'm doing his, for the most part.
Tomorrow school starts, and I've spent hours preparing. This is my first time teaching, and I'm very nervous. One of the experienced teachers today told me that my students would also be very nervous because they have probably never had a foreign teacher before. Sarah has been a great help to me, both technically, because she is much closer to the classroom than I am, and morally, because she keeps saying I can do it.
Sarah selected all her own clothes for this trip. I gave her a long lecture about modest clothes, which she dutifully obeyed, but I didn't give her an appropriate lecture about, shall we say, street conditions. People hack and spit in the streets, there are smells of open sewers, and there is mud everywhere. Sarah brought a pair of those trendy jeans that drag on the ground. Let's just say they're pretty gross, but she doesn't want to use bleach when she washes them.
Yes, we're doing our laundry by hand here, like everybody else. Sarah is taking it as well as could be expected. James doesn't care, because I'm doing his, for the most part.
Tomorrow school starts, and I've spent hours preparing. This is my first time teaching, and I'm very nervous. One of the experienced teachers today told me that my students would also be very nervous because they have probably never had a foreign teacher before. Sarah has been a great help to me, both technically, because she is much closer to the classroom than I am, and morally, because she keeps saying I can do it.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
University of Nanjing
This is a major scientific and technical university in this country. This morning James and I went for a walk and saw the physics building and the building for industrial explosives.
I knew that most of the high rises in China had been built post- 1980. For example, the Wall Street Journal carried this week an article about China saying that in 1979 Shanhai had 15 high rise buildings, and now has over 3600, more than Chicago and New York combined. I believe it. Visibility was poor as we crawled through Friday evening traffic last night, but there were whole villages of high rise apartments, many of which gave every impression of being empty. Some of them had styling similar to the 24 story monoliths that are sprouting on Panama City Beach, sort of pastel colored concrete, narrow, and every apartment with balconies.
As most of the buildings on this campus were built after 1980, you'd expect to see the sort of bland sameness of Russian polit-bureau buildings from the sixties, but it's interesting how there has been some attempt at architectural style for each building. I would describe the architecture more clearly, but I don't know enough about architecture to describe it.
The street scenes here are very vital. There are cars, vans, buses, bicycles, motor scooters and pedestrians vying for room to move. The streets are lined with vendors, tiny shops stuffed with goods, street vendors baking, chopping, braising, steaming, frying. Noodle vendors often have two or three tiny tables in front, and hungry university students, cheerfully chatting, lean over their bowls, slurping up noodles and broth.
We high end teachers dine indoors at large round tables that seat ten or twelve people. Young women bring tea, juice, milk and beer. Dish after dish is brought and placed on a large lazy susan, and spun around to reach each diner.
I knew that most of the high rises in China had been built post- 1980. For example, the Wall Street Journal carried this week an article about China saying that in 1979 Shanhai had 15 high rise buildings, and now has over 3600, more than Chicago and New York combined. I believe it. Visibility was poor as we crawled through Friday evening traffic last night, but there were whole villages of high rise apartments, many of which gave every impression of being empty. Some of them had styling similar to the 24 story monoliths that are sprouting on Panama City Beach, sort of pastel colored concrete, narrow, and every apartment with balconies.
As most of the buildings on this campus were built after 1980, you'd expect to see the sort of bland sameness of Russian polit-bureau buildings from the sixties, but it's interesting how there has been some attempt at architectural style for each building. I would describe the architecture more clearly, but I don't know enough about architecture to describe it.
The street scenes here are very vital. There are cars, vans, buses, bicycles, motor scooters and pedestrians vying for room to move. The streets are lined with vendors, tiny shops stuffed with goods, street vendors baking, chopping, braising, steaming, frying. Noodle vendors often have two or three tiny tables in front, and hungry university students, cheerfully chatting, lean over their bowls, slurping up noodles and broth.
We high end teachers dine indoors at large round tables that seat ten or twelve people. Young women bring tea, juice, milk and beer. Dish after dish is brought and placed on a large lazy susan, and spun around to reach each diner.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Further Adventures in Travel
We're fine and in Nanjing, so unless you enjoy vicarious misery, you can just skip to the next post. Things went fine with our altered schedule to Chicago until, no surprise, we arrived in Atlanta and were put in a holding pattern. After holding, we enjoyed sitting on the ramp waiting for a gate, and missed our flight to Chicago. We tried to get on the next flight, but we were stand by way down the list, so we weren't called, and we finally dragged into a Comfort Inn well after 11 pm, and had to be back at the airport before six, because we were still on the super special security, because we still hadn't completed our original trip.
We considered even spending the night at the airport, since we'd only have five hours to sleep at the hotel, but I decided the security problem with having to leave Sarah or me awake to watch the luggage, and the "Super Max Federal Prison" experience of having the lights on all night made it worth the hassle. It was worth it, we all got five good hours of sleep, which was important the next day.
We caught a seven a.m. Delta flight to Chicago O'Hare, went to baggage and were very happy to find our checked bag. Then we walked all the way to the United counter, to discover that we were part of a minority of the group on the Amercian flight, so we walked all the way to American.
My kids hauled all their own luggage on five hours of sleep. We were so happy we'd packed light.
The flight was long, fourteen and a half hours of flight time, plus all the time to board and unload a 777. We had no trouble at the SARS checkpoint, or at immigation or customs, and found the Foreign Affairs Officer for the University of Nanjing without incident.
About 18 teachers arrived that afternoon for this summer program, and there are a number of children, including a boy only a couple of years younger than James, which is good. We had to wait for another flight before loading onto a bus for Nanjing, but we left about 4:00 pm, and arrived at about 8:30 pm.
The Guodong airport in Shanhai is relatively new, and bigger than O'Hare. The bus sat about 18, and although we were packed in with our luggage like sardines, it was airconditioned. The weather is exactly like home, hot and muggy. We arrived in Nanjing at about 8:30 pm, and were immediately ushered up to a welcome buffet.
Thoughout this first 50 hour travel period, my kids were so good it was unbelievable. They slept sitting up when they could, they did not complain, and even when I knew they were exhausted, they were very pleasant through the banquet.
I'd left my camera on the bus, but I wished I'd brought it in to the banquet. The food was truly amazing to see. Dish after dish, each one more exotic than the last, but the oraganizer also knew there'd be children there, so there were things kids liked, like sweet and sour pork and corn.
I ate a pigeon egg in front of James. I ate spicy noodles. I ate strange and wonderful things, I ate things that were not so memorable.
We have a room, it has two single beds, so James and I slept in the same little bed. But it was air conditioned, and, a tremendous blessing, it has internet access, which was hooked up today. This afternoon we have orientation for teaching that starts Monday.
I have asked the Foreign Affairs Officer to help me find church services for tomorrow.
We're here, we're all okay, and I'm happy that we are here.
We considered even spending the night at the airport, since we'd only have five hours to sleep at the hotel, but I decided the security problem with having to leave Sarah or me awake to watch the luggage, and the "Super Max Federal Prison" experience of having the lights on all night made it worth the hassle. It was worth it, we all got five good hours of sleep, which was important the next day.
We caught a seven a.m. Delta flight to Chicago O'Hare, went to baggage and were very happy to find our checked bag. Then we walked all the way to the United counter, to discover that we were part of a minority of the group on the Amercian flight, so we walked all the way to American.
My kids hauled all their own luggage on five hours of sleep. We were so happy we'd packed light.
The flight was long, fourteen and a half hours of flight time, plus all the time to board and unload a 777. We had no trouble at the SARS checkpoint, or at immigation or customs, and found the Foreign Affairs Officer for the University of Nanjing without incident.
About 18 teachers arrived that afternoon for this summer program, and there are a number of children, including a boy only a couple of years younger than James, which is good. We had to wait for another flight before loading onto a bus for Nanjing, but we left about 4:00 pm, and arrived at about 8:30 pm.
The Guodong airport in Shanhai is relatively new, and bigger than O'Hare. The bus sat about 18, and although we were packed in with our luggage like sardines, it was airconditioned. The weather is exactly like home, hot and muggy. We arrived in Nanjing at about 8:30 pm, and were immediately ushered up to a welcome buffet.
Thoughout this first 50 hour travel period, my kids were so good it was unbelievable. They slept sitting up when they could, they did not complain, and even when I knew they were exhausted, they were very pleasant through the banquet.
I'd left my camera on the bus, but I wished I'd brought it in to the banquet. The food was truly amazing to see. Dish after dish, each one more exotic than the last, but the oraganizer also knew there'd be children there, so there were things kids liked, like sweet and sour pork and corn.
I ate a pigeon egg in front of James. I ate spicy noodles. I ate strange and wonderful things, I ate things that were not so memorable.
We have a room, it has two single beds, so James and I slept in the same little bed. But it was air conditioned, and, a tremendous blessing, it has internet access, which was hooked up today. This afternoon we have orientation for teaching that starts Monday.
I have asked the Foreign Affairs Officer to help me find church services for tomorrow.
We're here, we're all okay, and I'm happy that we are here.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Lisa in transit
Lisa wants to let everybody know that she is in transit and unable to update her blog today.
If I hear any news before she arrives at her destination, I'll post it here.
If I hear any news before she arrives at her destination, I'll post it here.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Adventures in Travel
Everything went swimmingly this morning, we didn't seem to have forgotten anything critical, we arrived at the airport promptly, we presented ourselves to check in automatically and our tickets could not be found in the reservation system. They said they couldn't get us out today, which is a problem, since our flight to Shanghai leaves at 10:35 tomorrow morning from Chicago.
We were rescued by Delta employee Nikia Baker. who rapidly tried a half dozen different itineraries, including taking us out of Valdosta, Panama City and Jacksonville, and in the end she was able to fly us to Tampa, then to Atlanta, and then to Chicago. We'll get in late, but we'll get in tonight and make our flight tomorrow.
The kids were completely cool during this minor crisis, waiting quietly until it was done. Then we piled our stuff together, and went through security, where we enjoyed the super special excellent full body pat down screening, and thereafter I had to listen to Sarah express her distress over a smudge on her new purse. Shortly thereafter, we realized the reason we felt like we had so little luggage was because James left his bag at the Delta counter. The police helped us, and I left the kids with the police while I went to fetch the bag, enjoying another full body pat down on the way back.
So, we're hanging around the airport, waiting for our flight to Tampa.
See, our first small set back, but we are doing fine.
We were rescued by Delta employee Nikia Baker. who rapidly tried a half dozen different itineraries, including taking us out of Valdosta, Panama City and Jacksonville, and in the end she was able to fly us to Tampa, then to Atlanta, and then to Chicago. We'll get in late, but we'll get in tonight and make our flight tomorrow.
The kids were completely cool during this minor crisis, waiting quietly until it was done. Then we piled our stuff together, and went through security, where we enjoyed the super special excellent full body pat down screening, and thereafter I had to listen to Sarah express her distress over a smudge on her new purse. Shortly thereafter, we realized the reason we felt like we had so little luggage was because James left his bag at the Delta counter. The police helped us, and I left the kids with the police while I went to fetch the bag, enjoying another full body pat down on the way back.
So, we're hanging around the airport, waiting for our flight to Tampa.
See, our first small set back, but we are doing fine.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Trepidation
We leave for China tomorrow. I have a long list, with nearly every item checked off, except that I haven't actually started to pack yet. I have enough drugs to start a pharmacy, flyers and maps to entertain my students, a camera, a computer, but nothing actually packed. There was a slight trauma today about UPS delivering a Chinese phrase book, escalating stress about a case which is either going to settle or go to court in the next couple of weeks, and I'm wondering what possessed me to sign up to go to China in the first place.
Sarah, who is 16, has been packed since the weekend, and has been cheerfully visiting with friends non-stop this week. James is having a James and daddy day today. I am dealing with the idea of a month without my spouse by refusing to think about it. Denial is under-utilized as a coping mechanism.
Sarah, who is 16, has been packed since the weekend, and has been cheerfully visiting with friends non-stop this week. James is having a James and daddy day today. I am dealing with the idea of a month without my spouse by refusing to think about it. Denial is under-utilized as a coping mechanism.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Preparing to Go to China
For someone who was such a dedicated blogger for a year, the fact that I haven't posted since February seems sad. I have several friends that kept up with the whole election via blog. Now, I seem to mention the odd thing in passing and then drift away.
But going to China is different. I'm leaving next week to go to China, where I'll teach a summer course in English at the University of Nanjing. My son and stepdaughter are joining me, but Jim is staying home. It turns out it's just as well since a tree fell on our house last week, and we're currently residing in a long term stay hotel, and he'll still be there when we leave.
I took a Chinese language course this spring to try to get ready for this experience. My son has been studying Chinese for two years. My stepdaughter is going to rely on her good looks and charm. We are all in various stages of nervous anticipation.
But going to China is different. I'm leaving next week to go to China, where I'll teach a summer course in English at the University of Nanjing. My son and stepdaughter are joining me, but Jim is staying home. It turns out it's just as well since a tree fell on our house last week, and we're currently residing in a long term stay hotel, and he'll still be there when we leave.
I took a Chinese language course this spring to try to get ready for this experience. My son has been studying Chinese for two years. My stepdaughter is going to rely on her good looks and charm. We are all in various stages of nervous anticipation.
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