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Writing this third report feels very strange-it is concrete proof that my time here in China is slipping away. With ¾ of my year here gone, I can look back on all that I've done so far while still thinking forward to what I would like to do in the next months. I know that I've managed to see and do an amazing amount of things in these past months, but there is still a dazzling quantity of things left to explore. While I am sure I have achieved so much in the past six months, the sense that I still have volumes to learn and experience here in China makes me feel like I've just arrived. I can easily imagine spending a lifetime trying to absorb all that China has to offer and not even noticing that a lifetime has slipped away.
Travel
I have spent the majority of this past quarter outside of the classroom. We had a very generous five week long Spring Festival break. Spring Festival is the Chinese New Year, and just like our New Year/holiday season, it is the time when schools in China have their semester break. However, because we don't teach during the time leading up to final exams, our break was considerably longer than our students' break. This time off was the perfect opportunity to explore several different areas of China and try to get to know more about this endlessly fascinating country. While I'd love to recount every discovery and adventure, I know that each previous fellow has had, and future fellows will have, their own unique traveling experiences in China, so I'll try to minimize the details of my travels and stick to sharing some of the observances I made while wondering around.
Because I was traveling with a friend who had to be back in Nanjing to fly home at the end of January, we were pressed for time and left Nanjing as soon as we both could. Leaving as early as possible meant that I had no break between the absolute marathon of participating in the school's Christmas show, wrapping up the end of the semester, getting my grading done, and my departure. So when I left Nanjing, I was relieved but also still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the previous month. However, I quickly learned that there's nothing like a 27 hour train ride-complete with a vomiting mother and two rambunctious and wildly curious toddlers, one of whom had a penchant for pulling socks, throwing fruit peels, and hitting me and my friend Cathy-to help you feel like you are truly getting away. After that train ride I was ready for sunshine and fresh air. Unfortunately, our plans to head south for warmer weather were quickly doused by the sleet that greeted us in Guilin, a popular tourist destination in a souther
n province. We did eventually find warmer weather during our travels, but our trip continually surprised me beyond my foiled weather expectations.
The destinations that we selected for our two week trip are all very famous for their natural, unbelievable beauty, and for the interesting minority cultures in the areas. So it was no big surprise to find the trappings typical of highly trafficked tourist areas-inflated prices and endless opportunities to buy all the junk a person could want. But what did surprise me was how sharply tuned these places are to maintaining a certain atmosphere. From the laid-back backpackers paradise of Yangshou to the lively, back-in-time bubble world of Lijiang, each of these places have very carefully cultivated their own auras, and are heavily invested in promoting their attraction. These areas obviously rely heavily on a steady stream of both Chinese and foreign visitors. Everywhere we went a great deal of people spoke a surprising amount of English-locals and travelers alike, not just the Chinese entrepreneurs we meet. This meant that I practiced a lot less Chinese than I had hoped, but I still managed to improve. My f
riend Cathy and I remarked that we found English speakers in the most unexpected places. For example, during the course of the trip, we both managed to catch a nasty flu (and I can now confirm that 22hrs on a train with a fever and cough is NOT FUN). In Kunming, after having gotten over most of our fevers but not our coughs, we went into a pharmacy that was somewhat off of the main touristy path. In the pharmacy, a very helpful woman spoke to us in English and helped us pick out a cough syrup (which turned out to be dreadful, but mildly helpful). As we walked away, Cathy commented that in Nanjing, which is supposedly a better developed city on the 'more sophisticated' east coast, we probably wouldn't have found any pharmacy with someone who would speak English with us. Even around Xi-Yuan, were many businesses attract a lot of business from foreigners, one can't expect to speak English. Yet here, in one of the farthest provinces in China, we couldn't get away from people eager to help us by speaking Eng
lish with us.
Another slightly amusing, yet somewhat disturbing, manifestation of tourism in these areas is the angle restaurant offerings and hotel accommodations have adopted. Most restaurants proudly announce banana pancakes on their menus, and most hotels entice with the (sometimes not completely truthful) amenity of 24hr hot water (thank goodness). Even at the edge of the Himalayas, perched over the world's third deepest gorge, all of the sparsely plotted guesthouses along the hiking trail want you to come eat their western food and use their 24hr hot water. Amazing. And a little twilight zone-ish. Although I felt like I was getting to see so much of China, I couldn't help feeling that in some ways Chinese culture was being obliterated by people like me who were curious and eager to experience China but all too willing to encourage through our patronage this 'westernizing' influence. And while I'm positive that locals who don't run restaurants or guesthouses are not changing their diets to accommodate pizza and l
asagna, nor have they gone to the considerable effort and expense of installing water heaters, the extent to which people in these areas are willing to sponsor foreign tastes is sometimes surprising. However, I do think that one positive effect of such heavy tourism is that, side by side with the offers of hamburgers and French fries, a great deal of minority culture and tradition is being preserved and promoted in these areas, even if it is under the oppressive sway of tourism. There are countless success stories involving whole villages of minority people improving the quality of their lives by marketing the music, food, traditions, and material wares of their culture to curious tourists. Traditions and cultures that could easily die out under the pressure for modernization are thriving in tune with progress. In several of these areas, much of the construction that is so typical in the rest of China has a different purpose-the preservation of traditional architecture and life styles. It is reassuring
to know that not everything in China will be covered over by skyscrapers.
At the end of January I returned to Nanjing and gave in to an overwhelming hibernation instinct that was encouraged by the cold weather outside. So I was in Nanjing at the beginning of February, which was marked by the Spring Festival. Since I was in town, I had the honor of celebrating the festival's first night with Fang Laoshi's family. As with every other festival in China, food is extremely important for Spring Festival, and family is even more important. People in China will travel very long distances and go to great lengths to be with their families for Spring Festival. The traveling situation reminded me of Thanksgiving in the US when traveling can be a nightmare of congestion, but also an ordeal families willingly submit to in order to be together. Having several generations together for a big meal on the night of Spring Festival is an important Chinese custom, and at Fang Laoshi's celebration several relatives had taken a lot of trouble to be there. We began the night chatting and sharing pho
tos, then moved on to a restaurant for a sumptuous banquet. The matriarch of the family clearly enjoyed having her sons and daughters, and grandson all around the table to celebrate the New Year; and I felt like a welcome addition to the family as Fang Laoshi instructed me to call her mother-in-law "nainai" meaning grandmother. After the banquet, Fang Laoshi's family didn't have any more plans for the evening, so I was dropped off at Xi-Yuan. Around midnight, the sky lit up with fireworks and great crashing booms could be heard from all over the city. In Nanjing several restrictions have been placed on the use of firecrackers under the pretext that they are bad for the environment, but clearly the greater concern is the fire and safety hazard. Even with the restrictions, people were setting off fireworks from the rooftops of five story buildings, right next to 40 story high-rises. Luckily, we didn't witness any accidents from the 17th floor of the dorm, but it is easy to image all sorts of damage and in
jury that might have been caused. Though the greatest concentration of fireworks was set off around midnight, they continued to boom well into the night-noise is the main objective in setting off New Year's firecrackers in order to frighten off evil spirits, and it was clear that people are determined to make as much noise as possible. Judging from the noise throughout night, I think that Nanjing will be very safe from evil spirits this year.
Justin returned from his trip to the states a few days before Spring Festival, so we decided to travel since we had about another two weeks before school was set to start again. Justin and I left Nanjing with our friend Claudia on the first day of Spring Festival, and flew to Chengdu in Sichuan. No one can travel to Sichuan and not report back on the food. The first thing we did (after spending about 4hrs finding lodging) was sit down to a meal of hot pot, a specialty in Chengdu and the perfect introduction to spicy Sichuan food. Hot pot is popular all over China, I think partly because of its very social aspect and partly because it is a fantastic way to warm up in the cold winter months. At a hot pot meal, diners sit around a bowl of spiced broth that is placed over a burner and add raw ingredients to the pot as it boils. Among my friends, fishing out the cooked food with chopsticks often becomes a rowdy competition of showing off chopstick skills. Sichuan hotpot is infamous for featuring an extremely
spicy broth, and on our first night we enjoyed teasing each other about how red our faces were turning while noting that everyone in the restaurant was flushed from the very hot spice. Sichuan is well-known throughout the world for its spicy food, but few people outside China know about the local trick for tolerating spice. Cooks in Sichuan use a spice called 'numb spice' to do literally just that-it numbs your mouth and allows you to eat extremely spicy food. But not all food in Sichuan is that spicy, and local dishes can display a wide range of tastes. We spent the rest of the trip trying to sample as much local food as possible, and it was amazing!
Since we were visiting during Spring Festival, a lot of the usual businesses were shut down, so most of the interesting markets in Chengdu looked like temporary ghost towns. But the upside to this desertion of regular business was that temples and parks become a lively focus of entertainment, and so we spent a lot of time visiting parks and temples, eating the special fair foods, and watching people relax in the vast teahouses Chengdu is famous for. The weather was bright and beautiful, and people really seemed to want to enjoy it and each other's company. I was struck by the fact that families seem to really prioritize spending time together throughout most of the festival, not just for one day, and the teahouses were lively proof of that. Most teahouses were completely filled and it was obvious that tables full of several generations of a family had been there for hours, playing cards or mahjong, chatting, snacking, and people watching. Everyone seemed to honestly enjoy themselves, with adults chuckli
ng and children squealing and running around.
After spending a few days in Chengdu enjoying the festival and visiting temples, we headed west to take in some of China's more remote areas. Just outside the city is a Giant Panda preserve which we visited one early morning. Sichuan is where most Giant Pandas now make their home in the wild, and several of China's panda preservation and research centers are concentrated in Sichuan. Since Sichuan is a giant province, vast areas are being dedicated to nature reserves and parks, partly to help protect the panda population but also partly to protect several of its other natural wonders. While I would have loved to spend time in the larger nature parks, we didn't have enough time to spend traveling back and forth (it can take a few days to reach some of the park areas), so we limited ourselves to a smaller circuit. Trekking west of Chengdu we encountered both well-known tourist spots and off-the-beaten-path areas; we went from the sunshine of Chengdu to the frozen rain of a town that signals the border betwe
en Han Chinese influence and Tibetan influence in Sichuan. We saw a heavily tourist-ed giant Buddha statue, and spent a few quiet hours with Buddhist monks in an out of the way lamasery. We were often very uncomfortable throughout our travels, with very little heating and long, bumpy, crowded bus rides, but everywhere we went we met friendly people willing to open up their lives and share with us.
We decided to take our time getting back to Nanjing, and used the opportunity to book a cruise down the Yangtze through the Three Gorges, ending at the Three Gorges Dam. The Three Gorges Dam project has been extremely controversial over the years, since the plan to build the world's largest dam involves the flooding of hundreds of miles along the Yangtze river, displacing millions of people, and covering over both natural wonders (like the famous Three Gorges) and archaeological treasure troves. However, the economic benefits for a significant part of China, once the dam is completed in 2009, will be hugely substantial and many previously impoverished areas should benefit. So it is difficult to know how to feel about such a prominent symbol of China's bid for modernization. The trip down the river gave us an opportunity to witness such a quickly vanishing and changing aspect of China. About two-thirds of the flooding has already taken place, so much of the natural beauty of the area is already underwater,
but what is left is truly spectacular in some places. The whole trip was dotted with reminders of the vast human displacement the flooding has caused, the most ironic being the tourist attraction called "Ghost Town." Ghost Town is a spot along the river that once had dramatic hills which according to myth were the haunting ground of the devil and all sorts of ghosts. Naturally, they've built up a tourist trap with several sites of ghostly haunts (all under construction). But just below the Ghost Town is a real ghost town-rows upon rows of mostly deserted, grey, half torn down buildings which will all be under water by 2009. The only people who still live there are people who make their living off of the tourists from the cruise boats, and construction workers demolishing the buildings and getting the area ready for flooding. Even though this was the first stop on the cruise, we were to see several similar sights along the way, though none as dramatic. Despite the displacement programs that compen
sate people for their loses and place them in new housing elsewhere, all along the river there are still people clinging to their properties and slowly disappearing fields, and towns that are making the slow transition to higher ground.
The second day of the river tour was the best because we got to get off the cruise boat (and escape from our small cabin) for almost the whole day and because we got very close to the natural beauty the area is so famous for. The tour took us to an area called the "Mini Three Gorges," which branches off of the Yangtze and is considerably narrower than the Yangtze, so we were much closer to scenery than we could get in the bigger boat. The smaller boat dropped us off onto even smaller boats similar to traditional Chinese junks that took us through a very narrow channel surrounded by cliffs. The junks were operated by old men with plenty of character, and our driver even sang river songs to us, in competition with the random herders and mystics that hid in the cliffs and serenaded us with their chanting and flutes. This experience reinforced for me that even amid such rapid and tangible changes, people caught in the path of progress still carry on with the aspects of life they enjoy most and they are willing
to try to work around even a disappearing landscape to preserve the things in life that bring them pleasure.
Back to Nanjing
Once we left the river, getting back to Nanjing was a big hassle because everyone was trying to get to their homes after traveling during the festival and also because we happened to pick Wuhan as the place to try to buy train tickets. Of course, we didn't know that Wuhan was flooded with thousands of visitors for the plum blossom festival and that the only available trains were in the middle of the week, when we had to be teaching. So we wound up grabbing the last spots on a sleeper bus to get to Nanjing. A sleeper bus is exactly what it sounds like; instead of seats, there are three rows of bunks with an upper and lower lever, on which people recline (or try to, though the bunks are very short). Throughout the night the full length of my body was huddled up against a cold, damp, drafty window, and I emerged with a nasty virus and cough. Unfortunately, I've managed to catch bronchitis every spring that I've been at Grinnell (usually right around finals time), so I'm familiar with the symptoms. By the m
iddle of the week I knew I would need to get some medical help and I sought out advice from a friend who had bronchitis in January. She advised me to skip the Western doctor and head for the Traditional Chinese Medicine University in Nanjing. One of my colleagues Grace acted as my translator at the clinic, which lead to an amusing discussion of certain English vocabulary words for bodily functions-a lesson we both giggled over for a long time. I was very grateful for her help, too, because the visit went smoothly despite the confusing process of setting up an appointment. After asking me a series of questions, looking at my tongue several times, and taking my pulse, the doctor wrote out a prescription for me that had about two dozen ingredients in it, then asked if I wanted their pharmacy to cook the medicine for me or if I wanted to do it myself. I was happy to let them cook it. We dropped off my prescription at the pharmacy and I watched in fascination as the pharmacists scurried around pulling out dra
wers from floor-to-ceiling file cabinets full of dried herbs, roots, and various unidentifiable things. The next morning I went back to the clinic and picked up about 15 plastic vacuum sealed bags with about 10 ounces of liquid medicine in each. The medicine was the vilest tasting thing I have come across, and I could only drink it if I mixed it with coffee, but my cough cleared up.
So, I started the new semester with a bad cough and a voice that broke like an adolescent boy's, much to the delight of my new students, but things went smoothly in spite of that. Every year at the second semester the fellows switch their classes so that suddenly we are faced with 300 new students. Some of the students were confused about the switch and tried to return to the classrooms they were familiar with but we were able to sort them out; though I was flattered by one of my former students who kept trying to sneak back into my class. I also had my own trepidations about beginning again with a whole new roster of students. At the end of last semester, I felt like I was starting to really get a feel for the personality of each class, and to develop stronger relationships with my students, and it seemed like a shame to have to let go of those developing threads and start from scratch again. However, I'm not starting entirely from scratch since I already have semester of teaching under my belt, and I f
eel that the beginning of this semester has already benefited from my experience.
In the first two weeks of class, I made it a point to review rules and grading systems thoroughly so that there is no confusion about my expectations and in the hope that classroom management won't be such a big issue this semester. I've also decided to use Justin's technique of grading student's notebooks in order to promote at least a basic level of participation. In these beginning weeks I've emphasized lessons that require every student to speak to help start students with getting over their shyness and to get them used to speaking in front of me. Since Justin and I taught similar topics last semester I'm facing the challenge of restructuring my lesson plans to avoid unhelpful and boring repetition, which gives me the chance to correct flaws in my old plans and try new routes with these classes. Instead of focusing so heavily on topics, I'd like to incorporate more skill oriented devices; taking a cue from what I learned last semester, I'm trying to devise methods that compel my students to communicat
e with me out of desire instead of obligation. I'm also delighted by the chance to get to know more students, and so far these students have been willing to share with me. I have high hopes that this semester will continue to be successful.
Changes at Home
When we returned to Nanjing, I felt like we were returning to a new city. In all of my travels I noticed that everywhere we went construction was changing the face of urban and rural areas alike. I've read somewhere that half of the world's cranes are in use in China, and I've joked that China is one giant construction site. Despite seeing the cranes in action and even being inconvenienced in some ways by all of the construction, I never really realized exactly how rapidly China is changing. Even in Nanjing I've gotten very used to being awakened at 7am by jackhammers and lulled to sleep by purring bulldozers under floodlights, but the full impact of all the construction activity remained slightly offstage for me until these past few weeks.
The first day that I went back to school, I was surprised to walk my usual route and find that the small snack shops and fruit vendors lining the alley behind the school are now just a pile of bricks. While these changes weren't a huge shock to me- I said in my last report that Nanjing is going through a rapid metamorphosis and nothing is better evidence of this than the construction sites on almost every block -they were disorienting enough. Then shortly after coming back, I received a true shock. Throughout my year in Nanjing, I've remained for the most part unaffected by all of the construction until the block surrounding Xi-Yuan was targeted and my daily life was impacted. Suddenly I'm now aware that the immense changes occurring throughout China are happening lightning fast. Literally overnight my favorite restaurant on our block vanished; one night they were serving delicious, cheap meals, and the next morning the whole place was empty with only two posters remaining on the walls. The disappearance o
f the restaurant was just a harbinger of things to come. Within a week nearly all of the buildings along the block were emptied out. Now for the past two weeks or so anonymous men and women have been working nonstop dismantling by hand every building on that half of the block. Whereas last week I couldn't see past the door fronts and walls lining the street, I can now see through the entire block to the next street over. Just as they are putting the finishing touches on the new high-rise across the street, the foundation for another complex is being dug behind Xi-Yuan. Abruptly the environment that I have become so familiar with is startling alien again. And that is only from my position as an observer. Where do people go when they have been displaced by progress? I have no idea where the people who ran, and lived in, my favorite restaurant are now, or what kind of livelihood they have without the restaurant. I've heard before that often people are given very short notice (sometimes two weeks or less) t
hat their stores and/or homes are being demolished to make way for city improvements, but I don't think I fully understood the implications of that situation until people I knew and saw every day were gone in a flash. Neighborhoods not only change physically with all of the construction, but they are also impacted on a community level. People who previously had a home and community in one place are gone, and new neighborhoods and communities are springing up all the time. As with most nations that have steamed or are currently steaming through rapid development and progress, I'm not sure that anyone is keeping track of who gets lost in the shuffle. However, people here seem to sincerely believe that rapid development is for the best and will improve the quality of their lives, so many are willing to make sacrifices and tolerate upheaval.
These recent encounters with such forceful and rapid change have made something very clear to me in the past few months. China is a country with a very long history (as anyone here will tell you), and it is accustomed to radical change and upheaval through time. Right now China is entrenched in a fascinating race to become a fully modernized global leader. In a country that is so familiar with change, people are taking the newest developments in stride, looking forward to the new China while enjoying the present China and paying homage to the past China. Coming as an outsider into such a large nation with an endless past and future has felt bewildering at times, but it has also given me the ability to appreciate the entire picture as well as experience the fine nuances of the changes happening. However, so much of China and Chinese culture remains unknown to me, and at this juncture of time so much of it is changing, that I feel like I could spend a lifetime here and never get past the tip of the iceberg.
While I feel slightly frantic that my experience here will be over in a blink, I'm tremendously grateful to have had an opportunity to taste some part of this amazing place and time. And I know that I will enjoy the rest of my time here immensely!
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