I’m realizing more and more that the way I’m living my life now is a massive attempt to match what life was like for me in China. It’s not that I miss China necessarily; I miss what my life was like living there.
I miss being a stranger lost among a million faces, and I miss that my face stood out among them. (This winter, I’ve been often reminded of walking across the Lanzhou University campus, bundled up in a hat, scarf, hood, and mittens, with my face barely showing, and hearing students dozens of meters ahead of me commenting on the foreigner headed their way. How could they tell so quickly?)
Along the same lines, I miss the paradox of being completely and utterly alone in a city of 5 million people. I miss having my own tiny room in which to (try to) shut out the crazy, unrelenting sounds of the city. Most of all, though, I miss every single second of my existence being dedicated to some form of study and learning.
And so, without realizing it until recently, I’ve been making my American life mirror my international life as much as possible. It’s a yearning for something bigger, a desire to realize potential and purpose, and a crazy obsession with being economical and rational. At the same time, it’s an immensely fulfilling and happy quest.
I’m embracing it.
And I’m going to try to learn more about myself through blogging about it. Want to join?
Showing posts with label Lanzhou University. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lanzhou University. Show all posts
23 January 2011
17 June 2010
An Uzbek's View on Kyrgyz Violence
I emailed my Uzbek friend Rustam, who is living in Lanzhou, to check up on my Kyrgyz friends in light of the violence in the south of their country. I have many Kyrgyz friends who I met through Lanzhou University, some of whom are still in Lanzhou and some who have gone home. One Kyrgyz couple who I was especially good friends with is in a unique situation: the husband is still in Lanzhou while his wife went back home to her family to give birth to their child. Naturally, I have been worried about these friends and their families. And, thankfully, I heard back that everyone is safe and well.
While my main purpose was to ask about the well-being of my friends, I also asked Rustam about his take on the violence and about why he thinks the attacks are occurring. I told him some reasons I have heard in the international media, including economic problems being blamed on the Uzbeks, the corrupt government egging on the violence, the fear of Uzbekistan encroaching on Kyrgyzstan, and gang violence based on ethnic hatred. Here is part of his email (awkwardly translated from Chinese):
"Caitlin, I think that all the reasons you listed are in fact causes of the conflict [economy, corrupt government, fear of Uzbekistan encroaching on Kyrgyzstan, and gangs] except for the one about Uzbekistan wanting Kyrgyzstan's land. Over there in Kyrgyzstan, I think there is one significant force between the Uzbeks and Kyrgyz that is provoking the violence: From what the Kyrgyz are saying, the Uzbeks are being beaten to death and a ton of women are being raped. The Uzbeks are verifying all of this. There is also another large factor, and that is that the people who are dying are innocent. It's just like a huge, awful game, and in this game the ones who suffer are the pawns, just like in chess."
The image of a game of chess is powerful. The pawns, the little innocent guys, are being slaughtered for the sake of the major players like the knights, rooks, kings, and queens, who perhaps represent the government, and are just out to win their battles at others' expense. We can only hope for a quick checkmate.
While my main purpose was to ask about the well-being of my friends, I also asked Rustam about his take on the violence and about why he thinks the attacks are occurring. I told him some reasons I have heard in the international media, including economic problems being blamed on the Uzbeks, the corrupt government egging on the violence, the fear of Uzbekistan encroaching on Kyrgyzstan, and gang violence based on ethnic hatred. Here is part of his email (awkwardly translated from Chinese):
"Caitlin, I think that all the reasons you listed are in fact causes of the conflict [economy, corrupt government, fear of Uzbekistan encroaching on Kyrgyzstan, and gangs] except for the one about Uzbekistan wanting Kyrgyzstan's land. Over there in Kyrgyzstan, I think there is one significant force between the Uzbeks and Kyrgyz that is provoking the violence: From what the Kyrgyz are saying, the Uzbeks are being beaten to death and a ton of women are being raped. The Uzbeks are verifying all of this. There is also another large factor, and that is that the people who are dying are innocent. It's just like a huge, awful game, and in this game the ones who suffer are the pawns, just like in chess."
The image of a game of chess is powerful. The pawns, the little innocent guys, are being slaughtered for the sake of the major players like the knights, rooks, kings, and queens, who perhaps represent the government, and are just out to win their battles at others' expense. We can only hope for a quick checkmate.
14 June 2010
Thoughts on Kyrgyz Violence
The violence in Kyrgyzstan is depressing, discouraging, and worrisome to me. I am constantly checking the news and searching for more pictures and video. It just hurts me so much to think about my Central Asian friends and their families, their languages and cultures and customs and rituals... to think about them in this context of violence.
The countries of Central Asia each have their own distinct culture, history, and language. After gaining independence from the Soviet Union around 1990, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikistan have had minor clashes. Ethnic problems are at the top of the list since people of each country's ethnic group live in the other countries- like the ethnic Uzbeks living in Kyrgyzstan who are being killed every day. With no explanation. Sure, Uzbekistan is a double-landlocked country with an overflowing population, but it's implausible for them to want to or try to take over Kyrgyzstan. I feel like these countries should be in this together. After suffering under the Soviets, they all became free and in control of their own livelihoods. They should be celebrating.
I clearly remember, right after the international festival at Lanzhou University last fall, my friends told me about when they were young children and their families were poor. Their parents worked tirelessly, and it was for nothing (well, it was for Russia). After they became free, life was so much better and happier. The countries celebrated their uniqueness and nationalism was encouraged.
But maybe it is backfiring now, all that nationalism. It reminds me of my post from December of 2009 about the fight in my dorm building. There is such a fine line there between respect and pride.
And, to conclude this jumbled post, on days like today I take a step back and look at how much my life has changed. I used to get upset and riled up about completely normal things. And now my heart pounds as I read news about Kyrgyzstan, and I have no one to discuss it with. I cry when I hear about Uzbeks' houses being burnt and women and children fleeing to the border, and there is no one there to share the pain I feel. Wouldn't my life be a lot simpler if I had never gone to China and met wonderful people who taught me about all these cultures? It's times like these that for fleeting moments I wish I was "normal" and didn't have these painful burdens from what I have learned and grown to care about. I got into a debate in class once about learning- that it's not always a good thing, that learning can be detrimental. My classmates thought I was off my rocker, and, you know what, I am.
Man sizni sevaman.
The countries of Central Asia each have their own distinct culture, history, and language. After gaining independence from the Soviet Union around 1990, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikistan have had minor clashes. Ethnic problems are at the top of the list since people of each country's ethnic group live in the other countries- like the ethnic Uzbeks living in Kyrgyzstan who are being killed every day. With no explanation. Sure, Uzbekistan is a double-landlocked country with an overflowing population, but it's implausible for them to want to or try to take over Kyrgyzstan. I feel like these countries should be in this together. After suffering under the Soviets, they all became free and in control of their own livelihoods. They should be celebrating.
I clearly remember, right after the international festival at Lanzhou University last fall, my friends told me about when they were young children and their families were poor. Their parents worked tirelessly, and it was for nothing (well, it was for Russia). After they became free, life was so much better and happier. The countries celebrated their uniqueness and nationalism was encouraged.
But maybe it is backfiring now, all that nationalism. It reminds me of my post from December of 2009 about the fight in my dorm building. There is such a fine line there between respect and pride.
And, to conclude this jumbled post, on days like today I take a step back and look at how much my life has changed. I used to get upset and riled up about completely normal things. And now my heart pounds as I read news about Kyrgyzstan, and I have no one to discuss it with. I cry when I hear about Uzbeks' houses being burnt and women and children fleeing to the border, and there is no one there to share the pain I feel. Wouldn't my life be a lot simpler if I had never gone to China and met wonderful people who taught me about all these cultures? It's times like these that for fleeting moments I wish I was "normal" and didn't have these painful burdens from what I have learned and grown to care about. I got into a debate in class once about learning- that it's not always a good thing, that learning can be detrimental. My classmates thought I was off my rocker, and, you know what, I am.
Man sizni sevaman.
10 May 2010
Yellow River Journalism
As part of my senior seminar project about views on journalism in Lanzhou, China, I interviewed journalism professors and students at Lanzhou University while I studied abroad there learning Chinese, and I made this documentary video to share their views with the world (or at least to whomever happens to watch this).
This is Yellow River Journalism: A Quest for Truth in Lanzhou, China.
Enjoy!
This is Yellow River Journalism: A Quest for Truth in Lanzhou, China.
Enjoy!
29 December 2009
Just About Finished
I have taken all of my exams for this semester. They weren’t so bad, partly because I was the only person in my class to take them early. The teachers are grad students and I feel like they didn’t put too much effort into making up my exams. They were still hard… just not what I was expecting.
It feels good to be done and to have a few days to relax and finish up last-minute things before I come home.
On Saturday I’m flying to Beijing and meeting a friend there- Yuan Guo who studied at Muskingum during the 2007-2008 school year. We plan to go to the Great Wall and some other famous places on Sunday. (I’m amused to find out what places security allows me use my video camera…) Then on Monday afternoon I will make the 13-hour flight to the states. Back home, once again.
It feels good to be done and to have a few days to relax and finish up last-minute things before I come home.
On Saturday I’m flying to Beijing and meeting a friend there- Yuan Guo who studied at Muskingum during the 2007-2008 school year. We plan to go to the Great Wall and some other famous places on Sunday. (I’m amused to find out what places security allows me use my video camera…) Then on Monday afternoon I will make the 13-hour flight to the states. Back home, once again.
The Fight
So my last post was basically to introduce a cultural custom that culminated in a fight in my dorm that my friend Rustam broke up. Here’s the story.
I was coming back from eating dinner with my friend Lily when a huge, bloody brawl broke out at my doorstep. Lily and I climbed the back stairs up to my floor, and at the top of steps were about 30 of the guys from Central Asia. They were blocking the way to get to my room. We had heard them yelling as we came up, but when I saw their faces, I was scared to death. I grabbed Lily and turned the other way, going straight to Rustam’s room for safety. But Rustam’s door was wide open and no one was inside. We went back into the hallway, but in the opposite direction of the fight.
It suddenly got really, really quiet. Then Rustam marched down the hallway into his room. He went to his bathroom and started washing his hands, but not before I saw all the blood going down the drain. There was blood all over his shirt, too. I took Lily’s arm and we tried to go back to my room, but all the guys were still there and wouldn’t let me through. I just starting pushed them aside and went through anyway. At my door, there was blood smeared all over the hallway floor and wall. I felt sick.
Later, Rustam came by and told us the story. A guy from Kazakhstan went to shake hands with a guy from Kyrgyzstan, and he intentionally shook his hand “the wrong way” showing disrespect. They yelled at each other for a few minutes, then all the Kazakh guys came to defend their country, and the all Kyrgyz guys did the same. The Uzbek guys obviously wanted to watch. While they were yelling, Rustam was doing his evening prayers. Needless to say, people started throwing punches, and a bloody nose made everything messy. At this point, Rustam went out to break up the fight. He said two guys were fighting, and the rest were just watching. Disgusting. Rustam also said that when Lily and I came up to the floor, the guys were mortified. And they didn’t want to let us go through when it was over because they didn’t want us to see the blood. While they can be pretty wild and like to fight, they always keep a sense of respect for women. When I see them now, some act ashamed. Rightfully so.
Hello, culture shock.
I was coming back from eating dinner with my friend Lily when a huge, bloody brawl broke out at my doorstep. Lily and I climbed the back stairs up to my floor, and at the top of steps were about 30 of the guys from Central Asia. They were blocking the way to get to my room. We had heard them yelling as we came up, but when I saw their faces, I was scared to death. I grabbed Lily and turned the other way, going straight to Rustam’s room for safety. But Rustam’s door was wide open and no one was inside. We went back into the hallway, but in the opposite direction of the fight.
It suddenly got really, really quiet. Then Rustam marched down the hallway into his room. He went to his bathroom and started washing his hands, but not before I saw all the blood going down the drain. There was blood all over his shirt, too. I took Lily’s arm and we tried to go back to my room, but all the guys were still there and wouldn’t let me through. I just starting pushed them aside and went through anyway. At my door, there was blood smeared all over the hallway floor and wall. I felt sick.
Later, Rustam came by and told us the story. A guy from Kazakhstan went to shake hands with a guy from Kyrgyzstan, and he intentionally shook his hand “the wrong way” showing disrespect. They yelled at each other for a few minutes, then all the Kazakh guys came to defend their country, and the all Kyrgyz guys did the same. The Uzbek guys obviously wanted to watch. While they were yelling, Rustam was doing his evening prayers. Needless to say, people started throwing punches, and a bloody nose made everything messy. At this point, Rustam went out to break up the fight. He said two guys were fighting, and the rest were just watching. Disgusting. Rustam also said that when Lily and I came up to the floor, the guys were mortified. And they didn’t want to let us go through when it was over because they didn’t want us to see the blood. While they can be pretty wild and like to fight, they always keep a sense of respect for women. When I see them now, some act ashamed. Rightfully so.
Hello, culture shock.
28 December 2009
Chopsticks
I do not remember not being able to use chopsticks. I know that’s not true of everyone, and for some people learning is really difficult. But it sort of came naturally to me.
Chinese people have this idea that foreigners do not have the ability to use chopsticks, and also are not capable of learning. My friends are so surprised by my abilities and that I prefer chopsticks over a fork or spoon any day of the week. It’s annoying to try to find a way to explain that it’s never been a problem and that they should not be surprised.
At the Christmas party last week, the international office set up this game where we used chopsticks to move mandarin oranges and grapes from one cup into another. What a cinch. That game did not go over well because they completely under-estimated our fine motor skills.
Speak of fine motor skills, I have always been particular about handwriting; I enjoy cursive, calligraphy, and just plain writing nicely. I wonder if this is related to chopstick use… You see, writing Chinese characters can be difficult and painstaking. Chinese people start writing characters and using chopsticks from their childhood. Their fine motor skills are awesome. Those with bad handwriting, have you been able to use chopsticks without practicing? If you have good handwriting, do you still have trouble? Please comment.
Chinese people have this idea that foreigners do not have the ability to use chopsticks, and also are not capable of learning. My friends are so surprised by my abilities and that I prefer chopsticks over a fork or spoon any day of the week. It’s annoying to try to find a way to explain that it’s never been a problem and that they should not be surprised.
At the Christmas party last week, the international office set up this game where we used chopsticks to move mandarin oranges and grapes from one cup into another. What a cinch. That game did not go over well because they completely under-estimated our fine motor skills.
Speak of fine motor skills, I have always been particular about handwriting; I enjoy cursive, calligraphy, and just plain writing nicely. I wonder if this is related to chopstick use… You see, writing Chinese characters can be difficult and painstaking. Chinese people start writing characters and using chopsticks from their childhood. Their fine motor skills are awesome. Those with bad handwriting, have you been able to use chopsticks without practicing? If you have good handwriting, do you still have trouble? Please comment.
18 December 2009
Christmas, maybe
Chinese students keep asking me how I’m going to celebrate Christmas. I say I’m probably not going to because… how would I celebrate it? Christmas is a family and community holiday, and even if you observe it by yourself, you can’t really call that a ‘celebration.’
When I’m asked about Christmas, the students always get really excited and say we should celebrate together (um… I don’t even know you!). I ask how they would want to celebrate, and they just want to go out to eat at a ‘western’ restaurant, or one that is ridiculously expensive. Celebrating Christmas in China means you’re hip and cool, because westerners celebrate Christmas. I think that’s missing the point.
I asked one of my teachers about why Chinese students want to celebrate Christmas, or pretend that they do. She said because everywhere else in the world, people celebrate Christmas (not true). I asked what they were celebrating, since it’s certainly not Jesus. No response.
Then, the office sent out a decree that each class must put on a Christmas performance for everyone. I don’t think the office realizes that at least 90% of the international students here are Muslims and aren’t excited about celebrating Christmas.
My class put me in charge of our performance. Why does this always happen? So, thanks to my eclectic skills of audio editing, cheerleading, and Chinese karaoke, we are going to be doing a combination song and dance to a famous Chinese song (“Love, Love, Love” by Jolin, anyone?). Please note that this has nothing to do with Christmas. So, we are going to wear Santa hats. Very festive.
I went to a supermarket today to scout out some hats, and it was reiterated that Chinese people really have no clue about Christmas. I found the Santa hats on display with Halloween costumes and Mardi Gras masks. It’s not that China is celebrating these three holidays together, they just don’t know the difference. Also, Christmas in China this year is sponsored by 7Up. (Take THAT, Sprite!)
When I’m asked about Christmas, the students always get really excited and say we should celebrate together (um… I don’t even know you!). I ask how they would want to celebrate, and they just want to go out to eat at a ‘western’ restaurant, or one that is ridiculously expensive. Celebrating Christmas in China means you’re hip and cool, because westerners celebrate Christmas. I think that’s missing the point.
I asked one of my teachers about why Chinese students want to celebrate Christmas, or pretend that they do. She said because everywhere else in the world, people celebrate Christmas (not true). I asked what they were celebrating, since it’s certainly not Jesus. No response.
Then, the office sent out a decree that each class must put on a Christmas performance for everyone. I don’t think the office realizes that at least 90% of the international students here are Muslims and aren’t excited about celebrating Christmas.
My class put me in charge of our performance. Why does this always happen? So, thanks to my eclectic skills of audio editing, cheerleading, and Chinese karaoke, we are going to be doing a combination song and dance to a famous Chinese song (“Love, Love, Love” by Jolin, anyone?). Please note that this has nothing to do with Christmas. So, we are going to wear Santa hats. Very festive.
I went to a supermarket today to scout out some hats, and it was reiterated that Chinese people really have no clue about Christmas. I found the Santa hats on display with Halloween costumes and Mardi Gras masks. It’s not that China is celebrating these three holidays together, they just don’t know the difference. Also, Christmas in China this year is sponsored by 7Up. (Take THAT, Sprite!)
09 December 2009
International Festival Follow-Up
One of the Uzbek students here is a reporter for the news station in Uzbekistan’s capital city, Tashkent. He made a news package about the international festival and posted it on this Chinese video site, so you can get a feel for what the festival was like.
http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XMTM1ODk2NjQ0.html
At about one minute into the video, there’s a short clip of me speaking Uzbek. I’m just saying the normal greeting, “Assalomu alaykum.” Nothing complicated.
http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XMTM1ODk2NjQ0.html
At about one minute into the video, there’s a short clip of me speaking Uzbek. I’m just saying the normal greeting, “Assalomu alaykum.” Nothing complicated.
28 November 2009
These Foreign Names!
There's an international student here from Uzbekistan whose name is pronounced "horse sh*t."
I can't look him in the eye, and we don't ever speak because I'm afraid of laughing.
I can't look him in the eye, and we don't ever speak because I'm afraid of laughing.
The Number 8
Another anecdote from class…
We were discussing lucky numbers according to Chinese culture. We all know that 8 is lucky, but we were told why: because 8 (八，ba) sounds like “fa” (发) which is a character sometimes used to mean “get rich” (发财，fa cai). There are at least two problems with this reasoning.
1. Fa 发 is used in tons of different ways.
头发 – tou fa, HAIR
发票 – fa piao, RECEIPT
发现 – fa xian, TO DISCOVER
发光 – fa guang, TO SHINE
发电 – fa dian, TO PRODUCE ELECTRICITY
发霉 – fa mei, TO BECOME MOLDY
发展 – fa zhan, TO DEVELOP
Need I go on? Maybe the number 8 actually means that you discover mold on your shiny hair after it develops static electricity from the receipt. (Not so lucky, is it?) In other (Chinese) words, 你发现你的发光的头发发霉了因为发票把你的头发发电了。That’s a lot of “发 fa.”
2. Ba 八 does not only rhyme with ‘fa’ 发, but it also rhymes with pa, ma, na, la, da, ta, ga, shall I go on? I could list out all of the possible meanings of these words as well, but I will spare you (and myself).
Why is 8 a lucky number? I’m still not sure.
We were discussing lucky numbers according to Chinese culture. We all know that 8 is lucky, but we were told why: because 8 (八，ba) sounds like “fa” (发) which is a character sometimes used to mean “get rich” (发财，fa cai). There are at least two problems with this reasoning.
1. Fa 发 is used in tons of different ways.
头发 – tou fa, HAIR
发票 – fa piao, RECEIPT
发现 – fa xian, TO DISCOVER
发光 – fa guang, TO SHINE
发电 – fa dian, TO PRODUCE ELECTRICITY
发霉 – fa mei, TO BECOME MOLDY
发展 – fa zhan, TO DEVELOP
Need I go on? Maybe the number 8 actually means that you discover mold on your shiny hair after it develops static electricity from the receipt. (Not so lucky, is it?) In other (Chinese) words, 你发现你的发光的头发发霉了因为发票把你的头发发电了。That’s a lot of “发 fa.”
2. Ba 八 does not only rhyme with ‘fa’ 发, but it also rhymes with pa, ma, na, la, da, ta, ga, shall I go on? I could list out all of the possible meanings of these words as well, but I will spare you (and myself).
Why is 8 a lucky number? I’m still not sure.
Dog Fur
Dog fur is sold on the street, right outside my university gate.
The sellers throw a small blanket down on the sidewalk, have a little sign that says “dog fur,” and put out their wares.
The fur is attached to articles of clothing, and the purpose is to keep warm for winter. Obviously, dog fur is abundantly available for it to be sold as a cheap way to keep warm.
Are you re-thinking that plate of beef? I’m not.
The sellers throw a small blanket down on the sidewalk, have a little sign that says “dog fur,” and put out their wares.
The fur is attached to articles of clothing, and the purpose is to keep warm for winter. Obviously, dog fur is abundantly available for it to be sold as a cheap way to keep warm.
Are you re-thinking that plate of beef? I’m not.
26 November 2009
Hating This Place Is Fun
As you have probably noticed, my attitude toward China and my studies is much different than during my first semester here. I’ve realized that hating this place sometimes is okay, and is, in fact, part of the fun of being here.
My friend Andy has a similar attitude. By similar, I mean his attitude is: “Hating this place is fun.”
In class today, Andy complained about how all of our lessons are the same: MaLi and DaWei visit a Chinese family. WangFeng and TianZhong go out to eat. MaLi and WangFeng go to the hospital.
Andy says he’s tired of learning about these things. “Why don’t we have good lessons, like ‘Our system of government sucks,’ or ‘We are totally racist’?” he asked.
Then, during our class break, Andy and I went to a little shop on campus for a snack. “Oh, do they have today’s China Daily?” he asked me. “I’m all out of toilet paper.”
My friend Andy has a similar attitude. By similar, I mean his attitude is: “Hating this place is fun.”
In class today, Andy complained about how all of our lessons are the same: MaLi and DaWei visit a Chinese family. WangFeng and TianZhong go out to eat. MaLi and WangFeng go to the hospital.
Andy says he’s tired of learning about these things. “Why don’t we have good lessons, like ‘Our system of government sucks,’ or ‘We are totally racist’?” he asked.
Then, during our class break, Andy and I went to a little shop on campus for a snack. “Oh, do they have today’s China Daily?” he asked me. “I’m all out of toilet paper.”
Bones to Pick
I’m surprised by certain attitudes I come across in China. Attitudes are hard to explain and describe, but this past week my teachers said some things that make certain Chinese attitudes very clear.
Example one.
During my Chinese speaking class, the teacher started talking about China’s Taiwan. “If you go to China’s Taiwan this, and in China’s Taiwan that, and China’s Taiwan is very whatever.” My English classmate Andy, who is not afraid of anything, said, “China’s Taiwan? What about Taiwan’s own Taiwan?” (Andy is my hero.) The teacher said, “China’s Taiwan. Do you have a problem?” Yes, I do.
Example two.
During my Chinese listening class, we were discussing the Chinese phrase for “world famous.” The teacher asked us to give some examples. We mentioned the Great Wall of China, the Terracotta Warriors, and Qingdao beer. Then one student said, “And Jackie Chan!” The teacher frowned a little and then completely straight-faced said, “No, Jackie Chan cannot be considered world famous. See, in Africa they don’t know about him. In Africa, they have no movies and no TV. They are very poor. Jackie Chan is not world famous.” WTF??? My teacher is a graduate student.
I’m not even going to comment on these examples… I will leave that up to you.
Example one.
During my Chinese speaking class, the teacher started talking about China’s Taiwan. “If you go to China’s Taiwan this, and in China’s Taiwan that, and China’s Taiwan is very whatever.” My English classmate Andy, who is not afraid of anything, said, “China’s Taiwan? What about Taiwan’s own Taiwan?” (Andy is my hero.) The teacher said, “China’s Taiwan. Do you have a problem?” Yes, I do.
Example two.
During my Chinese listening class, we were discussing the Chinese phrase for “world famous.” The teacher asked us to give some examples. We mentioned the Great Wall of China, the Terracotta Warriors, and Qingdao beer. Then one student said, “And Jackie Chan!” The teacher frowned a little and then completely straight-faced said, “No, Jackie Chan cannot be considered world famous. See, in Africa they don’t know about him. In Africa, they have no movies and no TV. They are very poor. Jackie Chan is not world famous.” WTF??? My teacher is a graduate student.
I’m not even going to comment on these examples… I will leave that up to you.
The International Festival
The International Festival was actually great. My part was not, but the other students really went over-the-top.
My display board was pretty sharp. I had some graphs comparing the U.S. and China’s economy, geography, people, and military, as well as map of the U.S. with China placed on top (I got these materials from www.mint.com). I also had some pictures of famous places in America, President Obama, and U.S. symbols.
Me with my display board... lame.
I had made a pretty good PowerPoint presentation, too. I skipped a whole day of classes to work on it, in fact. I even rehearsed giving my presentation in Chinese. But, welcome to China, they told us at the last minute that we didn’t need the presentations because it would be too bright outside for people to see and there would be no screen, anyway. Thank you, Lanzhou University.
Korean students perform Tae Kwon Do
The main participants in the festival were Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan, and all of the Arabic-speaking students worked together for a good performance. Because these groups each had 20-50 students, I felt really left out standing beside a poster board by myself talking to Chinese students about politics and economy. I ditched my display and instead learned about the cultural differences between the Central Asian countries.
A young man and lady from Kyrgyzstan dance together
Girls from Uzbekistan wear traditional dresses and dance
During the festival, sometimes I felt extremely happy and sometimes kind of sad. I felt happy when I watched my good friends sing and dance, wearing traditional clothes. They are so proud of their countries and cultures. On the other hand, I felt really awkward because America is so lame and we don’t know it. I felt a really intense longing to be part of a distinct culture and to have such a strong national pride. These Central Asian countries only recently became independent from Russia (most around 1991) and they really have a lot to celebrate. Many of my friends remember when their countries were part of Russia and how hard life was for their families.
Me being interviewed by the Tashkent news station
14 November 2009
Preparing for the International Festival
A previous post was about university communication and random meetings. Two weeks ago a meeting was called, and at the meeting, we were told that we needed to prepare a presentation about our countries for an international festival. Since I’m the only American, I thought this was quite a large task for one person, but nothing I couldn’t handle. We were told to speak for a few minutes about our country, and make a large display board. No problem.
The next week, another meeting was called, and I had to cancel plans with a friend to attend. There they told us we had six requirements to finish in a week:
1. Wear your country’s clothes and carry a flag across the stage.
2. Prepare a short performance, like a skit.
3. Sing a song or dance.
4. Prepare a powerpoint presentation about your country.
5. Make two large display boards with pictures of your country.
6. Prepare some of your country’s food to display.
Here are my responses to each of these:
1. Crap, I left my cowgirl costume at home!!! Also, I don’t have a flag.
2. I could imitate an American president and talk about things like stamping out Communism, the merits of democracy, and defending human rights…
3. Over my dead body. Do they want me dancing in a bikini or rapping about murdering people?
4. Ok, I can make a powerpoint. It’s going to be sarcastic, though. You can count on it.
5. Yes, I can do this. No problem.
6. Macaroni and cheese? Hot dogs? Gross.
The festival was supposed to be this Saturday, and I stayed home from class on Thursday to prepare. That afternoon, and third meeting was called. They are moving the festival to next Saturday because this Saturday is too cold. Excuse me, but doesn’t the weather get colder and colder as winter approaches?
Insanity. I’ll let you know how it goes next week…
The next week, another meeting was called, and I had to cancel plans with a friend to attend. There they told us we had six requirements to finish in a week:
1. Wear your country’s clothes and carry a flag across the stage.
2. Prepare a short performance, like a skit.
3. Sing a song or dance.
4. Prepare a powerpoint presentation about your country.
5. Make two large display boards with pictures of your country.
6. Prepare some of your country’s food to display.
Here are my responses to each of these:
1. Crap, I left my cowgirl costume at home!!! Also, I don’t have a flag.
2. I could imitate an American president and talk about things like stamping out Communism, the merits of democracy, and defending human rights…
3. Over my dead body. Do they want me dancing in a bikini or rapping about murdering people?
4. Ok, I can make a powerpoint. It’s going to be sarcastic, though. You can count on it.
5. Yes, I can do this. No problem.
6. Macaroni and cheese? Hot dogs? Gross.
The festival was supposed to be this Saturday, and I stayed home from class on Thursday to prepare. That afternoon, and third meeting was called. They are moving the festival to next Saturday because this Saturday is too cold. Excuse me, but doesn’t the weather get colder and colder as winter approaches?
Insanity. I’ll let you know how it goes next week…
University Communication
Communication between professors, departments, the offices, and students at Lanzhou University is ridiculous.
My Chinese friend LiLi is about to graduate from the university with a degree in economics. She told me yesterday that she received a message on QQ, the Chinese instant messenger program, that by next week she must decide on a topic for her undergraduate thesis paper. I know professors in the U.S. sometimes use Facebook as a form of communication with students, but it’s for more casual conversation. A mass QQ message about such a serious topic? Seriously, guys.
LiLi also tells me that she gets random phone calls from classmates saying “So and so told me to tell you that we don’t have class this afternoon. The professor called so and so who told so and so who told me.”
It’s always the same: No emails, no notices. Nothing concrete, written down, or from someone in authority.
It’s the same with us international students. My teachers often receive text messages or phone calls during class, and then they say, “This afternoon at 4:00, you all need to go to the office,” or “Bring your passport, student ID, and 400Y to class tomorrow.” We ask why, what for, etc., but our teachers don’t know either. It’s frustrating, especially if we already have plans.
Last week, a teacher called me twice about a meeting the next afternoon. I showed up at the office and there was no meeting. As I was leaving, I encountered this teacher in the lobby. She said, “Oh, it was cancelled. Please come back tomorrow.” Sheesh…
I joke with friends that I’m going to play a prank and tell everyone to go to the office a certain day and time. The office, obviously having no clue, will be flooded with students and won’t know what to do. Or, I could text everyone saying there is no class one afternoon.
I would never, ever play a prank like this, but it’s the principle. None of our information is credible or reliable. Sometimes I get angry, especially if I must cancel prior plans. And other times, I remind myself that this is China, this is what I signed up for, and I shouldn’t let it get to me.
My Chinese friend LiLi is about to graduate from the university with a degree in economics. She told me yesterday that she received a message on QQ, the Chinese instant messenger program, that by next week she must decide on a topic for her undergraduate thesis paper. I know professors in the U.S. sometimes use Facebook as a form of communication with students, but it’s for more casual conversation. A mass QQ message about such a serious topic? Seriously, guys.
LiLi also tells me that she gets random phone calls from classmates saying “So and so told me to tell you that we don’t have class this afternoon. The professor called so and so who told so and so who told me.”
It’s always the same: No emails, no notices. Nothing concrete, written down, or from someone in authority.
It’s the same with us international students. My teachers often receive text messages or phone calls during class, and then they say, “This afternoon at 4:00, you all need to go to the office,” or “Bring your passport, student ID, and 400Y to class tomorrow.” We ask why, what for, etc., but our teachers don’t know either. It’s frustrating, especially if we already have plans.
Last week, a teacher called me twice about a meeting the next afternoon. I showed up at the office and there was no meeting. As I was leaving, I encountered this teacher in the lobby. She said, “Oh, it was cancelled. Please come back tomorrow.” Sheesh…
I joke with friends that I’m going to play a prank and tell everyone to go to the office a certain day and time. The office, obviously having no clue, will be flooded with students and won’t know what to do. Or, I could text everyone saying there is no class one afternoon.
I would never, ever play a prank like this, but it’s the principle. None of our information is credible or reliable. Sometimes I get angry, especially if I must cancel prior plans. And other times, I remind myself that this is China, this is what I signed up for, and I shouldn’t let it get to me.
H1N1, Part II
I already mentioned how H1N1 has been a big deal here, and how my temperature is checked by my dorm staff. Well, a few weeks ago, the H1N1 vaccine was made available to all university students.
I happened to be taking a nap when my friend frantically called me and said we had to go to the university hospital immediately to get vaccines. I stumbled out of bed and was not prepared for the chaos ensuing at the hospital. Hundreds of students were pushing and shoving, waiting to fill out some papers and get their vaccines. Nurses were injecting people as fast as they could.
Since my friend and I are foreigners, we always get special treatment (not fair, but, hey, I’ll take it!). We went to the front of the “line” and tried to fill out the papers. We only wrote our first names and the name of our dorm; the other blanks were irrelevant since we are not Chinese.
Then we got our vaccines, and the nurses said not to shower for three days. My only guess is that the hospital doesn’t want to be responsible for thousands of students with infections from the unclean water…
That night I started feeling sick. For three days all I did was sleep. On the third morning, I went to the hospital, but they just gave me some cold medicine. That night my fever was ridiculously high, so I went back to the hospital. They tried to take blood, but because I had only been sleeping for the past few days, they could not get any blood from the vein in my arm. This was not a fun process of being poked, prodded, and having to squeeze my fist, move my arm, etc. Finally they were able to get a small amount of blood, just enough to run some tests.
I ended up getting some more shots. After that I was fine except for being tired. I stayed home from class for four more days to rest. I’m completely fine now. I’m pretty sure I was sick because I reacted to the H1N1 vaccine; it was the poor-quality Chinese one, not the standard western one. Once again, great job, China!
I’m not sure if this counts as having H1N1… I think it does, and when I am old, I will tell my children that I went to China, got H1N1 during the 2009 pandemic, and survived.
15 October 2009
H1N1
Everyone in China is freaked out about the swine flu, and rightly so. China is crowded and dirty. Several people live together in apartments the size of some U.S. families’ living rooms. Many apartment buildings have shared bathrooms that are, needless to say, filthy. And friends share food and drinks all the time.
Universities are especially concerned. Students are housed six or eight people per tiny dorm room. Libraries, dining halls, and classrooms are all crowded and thousands of people use them every day.
The number one in Chinese is “yi” so everyone says H-yi-N-yi, which I find very funny. If they say “H” and “N” (not Chinese) can’t they also say “one”? Actually, I’m wondering what other countries say in their languages… for example in Russian, what looks like an “H” says “N” and they don’t go around translating the name of the swine flu into н-один-N-один. No, no one does that. H-uno-N-uno, H-eins-N-eins, H-un-N-un? Anyone?
But back on topic, last week I entered Zhuan Jia Lou - where I live - and the desk workers stopped me and checked my temperature. Beside my name and room number they carefully recorded my temperature to the thousandths decimal place.
And just today, all the international students met in an auditorium, and the police talked to us about safely and sanitation. (I’m not sure why it was the police who came… that doesn’t really make sense, does it?) Then they gave everyone a fairly large bottle of disinfecting solution. As soon as I had hot water tonight, I cleaned everything in my room. I’m not so worried about getting the swine flu; I just like to clean things, especially in China.
I would also like to mention that the cleaning solution they gave us was produced and bottled in Lanzhou, by the Lanzhou Numerous Sterilization Products Company. It’s “galloping horse” brand, and is called 84. Impressive.
Universities are especially concerned. Students are housed six or eight people per tiny dorm room. Libraries, dining halls, and classrooms are all crowded and thousands of people use them every day.
The number one in Chinese is “yi” so everyone says H-yi-N-yi, which I find very funny. If they say “H” and “N” (not Chinese) can’t they also say “one”? Actually, I’m wondering what other countries say in their languages… for example in Russian, what looks like an “H” says “N” and they don’t go around translating the name of the swine flu into н-один-N-один. No, no one does that. H-uno-N-uno, H-eins-N-eins, H-un-N-un? Anyone?
But back on topic, last week I entered Zhuan Jia Lou - where I live - and the desk workers stopped me and checked my temperature. Beside my name and room number they carefully recorded my temperature to the thousandths decimal place.
And just today, all the international students met in an auditorium, and the police talked to us about safely and sanitation. (I’m not sure why it was the police who came… that doesn’t really make sense, does it?) Then they gave everyone a fairly large bottle of disinfecting solution. As soon as I had hot water tonight, I cleaned everything in my room. I’m not so worried about getting the swine flu; I just like to clean things, especially in China.
I would also like to mention that the cleaning solution they gave us was produced and bottled in Lanzhou, by the Lanzhou Numerous Sterilization Products Company. It’s “galloping horse” brand, and is called 84. Impressive.
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