 |
I wrote my first report a little more than three months ago. In that report I outlined the basics of my life in Nanjing. Much of what I wrote remains the same, where I live, the organization of the school and who I teach, and my life outside of school. What differs between November and now are some of my experiences and ideas.
Everything changed come Christmas. Before Josh and I came to Nanjing past fellows warned us that our schedules might become erratic, unpredictable, and classes would be canceled without warning, dissolving our well thought out plans. Through the end of November Josh and I escaped with relatively little disruption. The school canceled or changed only a few classes, so we thought the administration had heeded Jason and Ann's and all other past fellow's pleas to warn fellows of cancellations and to establish make-up classes for missed classes. I thought everything would continue smoothly until the end of the semester, so I planned all my lessons, allowing for some missed classes during Christmas.
I was wrong. No matter how firmly a pair of fellows might insist on a dependable schedule, I think Christmas and New Years subjects us all to its madness. Beginning around mid-December our schedules changed almost every day. First they scheduled the Christmas party for December 25th. Then the 26th. Finally they settled on the 27th. Sometimes our students were taking exams during our class. Often our students missed class because of Christmas party rehearsals. At the end of the semester the administration canceled some of our classes because they thought we were done. I was changing my semester plans daily, which not only confused me but confused my students. The principals told us we had to give our students final exams but because either half my students missed or left part way through class or all my students missed class they had no idea what I might test them on. In the end I gave my students easy exams that I knew most of them, if they showed up to class most of the time, would pass because I
could not prepare them for anything more challenging. I did not test or evaluate my oldest students, the Senior 2's, at all.
In spite of our scheduling hassles, Christmas marks one of the highlights of my time here. The entire experience was insane. The preparations began early, sometime, I think, towards the end of November. Students asked us for copies of Silent Night and to help prepare some pieces. A couple of weeks into the preparations some of our students approached us for help with a performance of Do a Deer from The Sound of Music. We agreed, but when we showed up we found they wanted not just our help but for us to perform Do a Deer with seven Senior I and Senior 2 female students. In addition they wanted us to perform the beginning of the song in English and the first four lines of the chorus in Chinese by ourselves. How could we resist? Even if we wanted to refuse, in the true fashion of school functions, we could not, so we dove in and made the best of it. Several rehearsals, dinners, and a recording later we had a piece in which Josh and I gracefully made fools of ourselves.
The festivities began on the 24th of December. When auditions for the main performance eliminated several hard-working groups, the eliminated insisted they get a chance to perform their pieces. The administration agreed to hold a second party for them. On the 24th we gathered in the auditorium of the school to witness remarkable albeit hilarious performances. One aspect that I love about students at our school is that many rarely seem to get nervous when they perform or speak in public. They lack an inhibiting self-consciousness that I and many of my classmates had at their ages. We saw performances of Silent Night, a Backstreet Boys song, Peking Opera, a dance routine to Britney Spears, and the cutest rendition of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves I have ever seen. Josh, bearded and decked out in full Santa Claus gear, threw out candy and oranges while I, his elf-helper, took pictures from the sidelines. Impromptu they asked us to perform, so we led the crowd in a sing-a-long version of Jingle Bells.
At one point they pulled us from our seats and had us face the audience while students rushed towards us with gifts and cards. Embarrassed does not begin to describe how I felt, but there was little we could do but stand while they took pictures of us and our arms full of gifts. I now have enough good luck charms to keep me and everyone I know safe for the next few generations.
The first party warmed us up for the big shebang on the 27th of December. Every year the entire school mobilizes behind an extensive Christmas and New Years celebration. Students of all class years and teachers from many departments participate. The school canceled classes for the afternoon and much of the school made its way to the Children's auditorium of Nanjing. That afternoon we witnessed many types of performances, both modern and traditional. We saw traditional Chinese dance, Beijing opera, and a type of performance where artists and calligraphers pained next to a group of women playing the gu zheng, a Chinese instrument that kind of like a harp played on your lap. A group of guitar players played a Chinese pop song, a comedy duo had the entire audience in hysterics (about what Josh and I have no idea), and about fifteen female teachers, including my Chinese tutor, sang Edelweiss dressed in white angelic dresses. The annual teacher dinner followed the performances, a huge event held in a hotel w
ith all the regular Chinese thoroughfare: loads of food, toasts, and speeches, followed by karaoke and dancing.
Josh and I complemented the school's Christmas celebrations with our own small gatherings with friends. We both missed home but we did our best to make the holiday festive. We decorated our rooms, made Christmas stockings out of cheap Chinese silk, and Josh made Christmas tree door decks for myself and another friend of ours. On Christmas day we sang Christmas songs and ate homemade Chinese food with several Chinese and other foreigners in a friend's apartment.
The strangest aspect of Christmas was the prevalence of Christmas around us. Our school's celebrations of Christmas reflects the appearance of the holiday throughout Nanjing. Many storefronts hung pictures of Santa Claus and painted "Merry Christmas" and snowflakes in their windows. Trees and buildings throughout the city donned Christmas lights and many hotels put up Christmas trees. One upscale hotel dressed their eight or so bellhops in Santa Claus outfits. The appearances of Christmas did not reflect an actual celebration of Christmas. On Christmas day we held classes. Chinese families do not get together and exchange gifts on the holiday. Nevertheless, Christmas surrounded us, and none so more obvious than with our students, so eager to give us cards and gifts and to share with us their knowledge of Jesus and Santa Claus. Ironically, my Christmas in Nanjing was one of the most festive I ever experienced.
After the holidays we had a few days to catch our breath before Andrew Hsieh and Dean Swartz came to Nanjing. Our first real life contact with home was much anticipated since we thought they would come in October and had postponed their trip until January. Much more important in the Grinnell hierarchy than us, their visit prompted the finest dining we had experienced yet in China. While they and others hosted us at dinners we caught up on Grinnell's recent happenings. We were especially anxious to hear first hand about Grinnell's reactions to September 11th. Their visit was really good for us. Josh and I are lucky because we have each other to keep the other in check, but sometimes it is hard for just the two us to convince ourselves that this experience is really happening and, more importantly, that home still exists. Their visit brought home closer to us, a welcome reminder. The breakfast buffet at the Jinling Hotel didn't hurt, either.
The Grinnell contingent left and a week later the semester came to an end. On the 13th of January we left for our Chinese New Year holiday. In the tradition of many past fellows, Josh and I flew to Thailand, tropical south haven of Asia. With all the commotion at the end of the school year I was excited to go to Thailand where I envisioned serenity, relaxation, beauty, and plenty of time to think and process the previous five months in China. I planned a well-rounded holiday visiting big cities, small towns, mountains, rain forests, and beaches. I looked forward to warmth, sun, and peace.
Thailand took me completely by surprise. I expected Thailand to look and feel basically like China, except with a tropical climate, perhaps friendlier people (everyone kept telling me how Thais always smile), and more people who speak English. Perhaps had I the chance to step off the tourist track, to stay in a farming village somewhere, I may have found places that reminded me of China, but as I was on a tourist track, Thailand often felt more Western than Asian. Everywhere I went I could get Western food, Western products, I met loads of other young and older travelers like myself (although I did not meet many from the United States), and if I had wanted I could act like a young radical with piercings, died hair, dreadlocks, and skimpy clothing. Often during the first week and a half and periodically throughout my trip I asked myself, Is this really Asia?
When Josh and I met up during our trip (we traveled separately for the most part), we reflected on our respective experiences of what we realized had been reverse-culture shock. In Nanjing we can not avoid Chinese culture. Sometimes we escape and fulfill some cravings and we do have the chance to meet other non-Chinese on a regular basis, which is more than many people working in China and other parts of the world can say. Nevertheless, Chinese culture always surrounds us. Chinese culture goes on and we, for a short period of time, intrude on it. In Nanjing I feel I have to make room for China in my life, to make China my home. My impression of Thailand was Thailand has made room for tourists so tourists feel comfortable there. I think it would be easy to travel even for as long as I did in Thailand and never experience any kind of culture shock. (My impressions were confirmed by my friend's experiences traveling in southern China. She met some travelers who came into China from Thailand and Laos who
found China puzzling. They said to her "What is this place? Why can I not use English? Why is everything so confusing?") I adjusted to Thailand but never got over the feeling that a tourist experience in Thailand is strange. I often spoke with Thais and tried to venture off the well-worn beaten track but in the end felt as though my holiday was less a Thai cultural experience and more a chance to satisfy some cravings of home.
All of this led me to think about China in a new way. Many comment on the Westernization of China. They point to the introduction of McDonalds and KFCs, the Starbucks in the Forbidden City, Westlife and Britney Spears dominating the pop music scene, and a general impression that Western equals better. People describe Nanjing's transformation over the last ten or fifteen years, how you used not to find any Western candy in the supermarket and everyone, not just a handful, used to stare at foreigners. While this is true, returning to China from Thailand I was struck at how un-Western China seems comparatively. It is difficult for me to imagine even the most touristy areas of China ever like Thailand. In Thailand it was not unusual for me to get on a bus or a train and see non-Thais in at least half the compartment. Non-Thais and even Non-Asians often filled restaurants. Most of the people I met were Western European, North American, Australian, Israeli, and White South African. Conversely, when I flew
back into Shanghai I saw a few non-Chinese in the airport and then did not see another non-Chinese until I saw Josh and my friends back at the dormitory in Nanjing. I see predominantly Chinese, Asian, and then non-Asian tourists in every tourist place I have traveled to in China, The Great Wall, the Forbidden City, Shanghai, and others. I almost never saw Thais at the tourist places I visited in Thailand except at some temples. In Thailand every guesthouse offered at least toast, eggs, and coffee, and many offered Corn Flakes and often delicious pancakes. Once Josh and I tried to get pancakes and coffee in Nanjing. The meal was disgusting. And toilets. Even the most posh Chinese restaurants have squat toilets. I was told that it would be the same in Thailand, but on the tourist track I encountered few squat toilets. Even in run down bungalows I had some version of a bowl toilet. These are small things but they were things I noticed because I think they make a difference in one's experience and perce
ptions of another culture. It's one thing to see someone struggle with chopsticks day after day and to struggle with communicating the most basic things. It's another experience to be offered a pork chop and potatoes and to speak English everywhere you go as though you were at home. It's one thing to feel like you have to make your way through a culture. It's another to have the way paved for you surrounded by all your comforts.
I returned to China apprehensive. While in Thailand, reflecting on my reverse-culture shock and my eventual adaptation to Thailand I asked myself, Will I go through culture shock again when I return to China? In some ways returning to the U.S. seemed more natural than going back to China. I figured I had experienced that much Western culture, I was ready for a full onslaught. To my surprise when I did return to China I felt more relieved than anything else. I felt comfortable not because my basic amenities were like in the U.S. but because I was used to this place. I knew this place. I was familiar with this part of China, with how things worked, how to do things, and what was expected of me in everyday interactions. I was still a foreigner but I felt like I was home.
Now things are back to full swing. School started this week with all the usual fun chaos. The administration forgot to schedule the Senior 2's, which was okay because we had to take a photo with the English teachers during their class anyway. To our dismay we have to perform Do a Deer again, which means more rehearsal time. The businessmen returned to the floor at the end of the week, waking both of us on our day to sleep in by shouting and spitting in the hallways. Next week Tai Ji classes resume. Josh and I began going on Bao Zi walks again, where we walk by the market near our dormitory, buy a steamed dumpling, and sometimes pop into the video stores or supermarket, all the while laughing about whatever hilarious things happened that day. I feel good to be around the students again. I am more secure in my teaching ability this semester than at the beginning of the school year. I have a better idea of where their English abilities are and how to manage my classroom more effectively. I have a lot o
f ideas that I hope to implement alongside some of Jason Stohler's suggestions and ideas that he gave me in response to my first report. And Josh and I are venturing out more. We are going out dancing tonight and we promised ourselves to go out to a new restaurant every night this week. This is big for us. Overall I feel good.
As always, if you have any questions or you want to respond to my reports you can email me at piekarz@grinnell.edu. Also, if you have the urge to send us stuff, we can always use more children's books. They are the most popular books for students to check out and they have been the most useful in class. Some Crayola markers and crayons wouldn't hurt, either. J Thank you for everyone who has sent us books so far. They are great.
Thank you, everyone. All my best.
|
|
