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

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 Gym

I joined a gym last week. My good Chinese friend LiLi told me about it because she started taking yoga classes there.

The gym is about a 15 minute walk from the university. I walk down a dirty, crowded street, past a poor area of town, and into a dingy building. The elevator is broken, so I climb up to the fourth floor in a dark, damp stair well. The lights are sound-activated and are off until I clap, stomp my feet, or cough.

When I reach the fourth floor, I slowly open the door and find, to my surprise, a completely normal-looking gym. It’s clean, has new equipment, and the people working out seem very western. American pop music is playing. I always breathe deeply and pretend that I’m back in America for just a few minutes. The contrast shocks me every time.

My first day, I had a complete exam, including body composition and strength tests. I found it fascinating, but I was surprised that I can have a nearly fluent conversation in Chinese about things like blood pressure, physical injuries, nutrition, and muscle mass. Using technical words like these is great for my Chinese. When I go to classes, it’s the same. We talk about breathing, body parts, direction words, and motion words.

Recently I had been feeling a little glum and tired; working out has been great for me. I have more energy, and when I get back from a full day of classes, it’s actually relaxing to go for a run or practice yoga.

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.

HSK

There is a standardized Chinese language test called the HSK; it’s like the TOEFL is for foreign students wanting to study in the U.S.

“HSK” stands for the Chinese words for Chinese Level Examination (Hanyu Shuiping Kaoshi). The highest score is a 9, and I don’t know if many Chinese students could get a 9 on it. The lowest score is a 2 (no, I don’t know what happened to 1).

I’m taking the HSK in two weeks. I’m not nervous about it, because I actually don’t care about my score. I’m fine with getting a 2, and would be absolutely elated to get a 3. The important thing for me is not what my score is, but that I have a score. I can try to describe my Chinese proficiency all I want with words, but having a score is like a pass to getting a job or getting into a Chinese grad school.

I took a practice exam last week and I thought I did horrible on it. Then I talked to some other students and I’m actually ok with getting a 42/120. I’m not sure what HSK score this correlates to… possibly a 3, but I don’t know how the scoring actually works.

I bought my “HB” pencils (there’s no #2 here), got my picture taken for my HSK ID, and am studying grammar every day. Now I’m just waiting…

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.

Solar-Powered Tea Kettle

I climbed a mountain the other weekend with my English friend Andy. The scenery was pretty, the weather was ok, and climbing was fun, but the best part of the trip (besides finally speaking English and freely complaining about teaching methods at the university) was visiting an old man who lives on the mountain and keeps up a Buddhist temple.



Andy and I stopped to say hi to this guy, and we ended up sitting and talking to him for a while. The main subject of our conversation was this cool contraption that the man has set up. Since he has no electricity, he has this reflector panel that concentrates the sun’s rays on the bottom of a tea kettle, and this is how he boils water. (And I thought frying ants with a magnifying glass was BA…)

It just so happened that as we arrived at his home, he was putting the kettle on. As we finished our conversation, the water was just starting to boil. Perfect timing.

This man was really baffled as to why I kept asking about how he boils water, and Andy also doesn’t think it’s cool as I do... What do you think?