One Down, One To Go

First semester is done, which means I'm off to greater Southeast Asia for the Spring Festival break. Feel free to post comments and questions while I'm gone, which I can then address upon my return.

Back in a month. (With pictures.)

Wuhan Rules of the Road

1. Pedestrians DO NOT have the right of way.

2. Simple maneuvers, such as backing out or making a three-point turn, are terrifying and must be done at one mile-per-hour.

3. The parking lot being a completely foreign concept, pay no attention to the layout of the spaces.

4. Lane lines and center lines are meaningless. Passing, overtaking, and merging happen everywhere, all the time.

5. Stoplights are suggestions. Follow at your own convenience.

6. Car horns being the equivalent of animal calls in the wild, they are to be used to communicate even the slightest fear or displeasure.

7. There are signs in certain areas prohibiting the use of a horn. These can be ignored.

8. Motorbikes (and sometimes cars) are not confined to the road. They can and should be driven down a crowded sidewalk.

9. Cutting people off (or “Vehicular Darwinism”) is a perfectly natural process.

10. It’s always your turn and never your fault.

"Sound of Spring"

Such was the theme of the wintertime concert that I and the other teachers were treated to a little while ago. See, every now and then we get to go to these events aimed at making China feel more hospitable, and so, on relatively short notice (as happens here sometimes), we were invited to a Friday-night performance at the Wuhan Conservatory of Music. After being rounded up and put on a bus, we residents of the CCNU international building arrived at the auditorium to find that, in fact, all the foreign experts in Wuhan, perhaps even in Hubei province, had been brought together for this, an evening of Chinese culture.

We took our seats high up in the balcony, taking note of the many faces and languages. Some were familiar; many were not. The distinct lack of homogeneity was pretty refreshing. (To put it in perspective, almost 95% of the country's population is classified as "Han Chinese," the largest ethnic group in the world.)

The evening began innocently enough with a children’s choir, then moved semi-swiftly on to dance numbers and soloists. The most impressive act of the showcase had to be the pair of female acrobats, both of whom could bench-press me, and I’d say my favorite was the quartet of traditional Chinese instrumentalists.


But the most memorable (and the longest) had to be the Beijing (or Peking) Opera. Imagine a series of tightly choreographed fight sequences set to the sound of kids playing with crash symbols. I can only describe its effect on the ears as a kind of auditory water-boarding. I can’t complain, though; it was pretty cool to watch. The whole performance, in fact, was really interesting. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Holidays, Laowai-Style

Well, it's now day two of the new year in China, with most of the world still observing the first of 2009. Thankfully, I did not have class today, which opened up possibilities for the preceding night. I'd say it was a pretty eclectic celebration--we covered a lot of ground and represented a lot of countries between us. With so many kinds of people teaching, studying, or just hiding out abroad, you never really know whose path you'll cross. And even though the Chinese (Lunar) New Year is a much bigger deal here, they do still use the Gregorian calendar; thus, I got the day off. I also get tomorrow off, but I have to teach tomorrow's class on Sunday at 8 am, so the long weekend comes at a price.

I never did talk about Christmas. I'd been meaning to, but I guess I got busy. I did teach on Christmas (and the eve), but the students already knew almost as much as I did, so I didn't teach for very long. I walked around afterward and, surprisingly, found carols in the streets, decorations in the windows, store employees wearing santa hats, etc. And there was a ton of shopping. It was very much an American holiday. Seems like the Chinese are getting into it more and more. The night of the 24th was actually pretty quiet for me, since many of the Wuhan laowai had already gotten together for a party the weekend before. "Laowai" (老外), to explain further, is a more colloquial form of "foreigner." My Chinese friends tell me it's not meant as an epithet, but sometimes I wonder.

Underwater Shakespeare

A couple of weeks ago, after all the blood and sweat, and maybe an occasional tear, I saw the culmination of a couple months of effort. Not so much by me, but by the Shakespeare Association of Zhongnan University of Economics and Law (ZUEL). For a little while now, I've been heading over to Cori's school about every week to help direct their production of Twelfth Night. These are just ordinary Chinese students getting together to perform a few of the Bard's better works, in the original Elizabethan English. Pretty impressive, when you think about it. They aren't all necessarily English majors or theatre kids. They don't get to rehearse on a stage. They have a faculty advisor, but no official director. Naturally, having studied both Shakespeare and directing, Cori and I were happy to help out.

We learned pretty quickly that this wasn't going to go how we wanted it to. We're used to a well-planned and efficient rehearsal process—movement, lines, character, dress, show. They direct themselves on-the-fly and by committee, which doesn't really work unless you're a finely-tuned acting company with a history of collaboration. These were Chinese students who could spend an hour debating the proper delivery of the play's opening line.


Usually, the most important part of the play is the text, and when they can't pronounce the text, you give them some actions and hope that people get the gist of it. We mostly just gave notes, taught basic theatre techniques, and even showed them a little swordplay. It was a good learning experience all around.

The performance was definitely a surprise. They had a packed auditorium. They also had actor microphones (which must've been cranked up to 11), a set with props (which were covered in flashy gold tinfoil), and scenes with narration (which aren't in any copies of Twelfth Night I've ever seen). They changed a few things and cut out a bunch of scenes, but the running time still stretched to nearly three hours (with no intermission).

In the end, I managed to understand only about 30 percent of the lines, but it’s sort of like going to Latin mass—you know what’s supposed to be happening. What I wonder is whether the Chinese could catch more of it than I could, since they have an easier time deciphering the accent.

This entry’s title comes from Cori’s rather apt description of the show. On a related note, the previous entry’s title comes from my students. Unfortunately, that really is how some of them talk.

"Sanksgiving Day"

Well, I don't know exactly what's been keeping me from writing more on the blog. It's not for lack of material, since there's always something to write about, however mundane. I think I may have just started subconsciously associating the blog with real, actual work. Like lesson-planning. That's how it always goes with these things. Journaling goes from an outlet to a chore in no time.

We did have a Thanksgiving celebration, in case you were curious. We don't usually pass up an opportunity to do something expensive and indulgant for the sake of togetherness. So, while everyone back home was still asleep, we headed across Wuhan to the Shangri-la Hotel for a traditional Thanksgiving buffet. And we had a hell of a time trying to get there. We couldn't find a cab to take us there, since you need a cab with an odd number on an odd-numbered date with a driver who's willing to go across town at rush hour. Our only option was the bus, but two buses had just collided at the stop nearby, blocking traffic both ways. We ended up walking to another stop, catching a bus to the Yangtze River, ferrying across, and taking a cab the rest of the way.

Our friend Jo was nice enough to call ahead and reserve a table for us, even though she didn't join us for the meal. It turns out that reserving a table there on Thanksgiving is a little like calling up the Four Seasons in Chicago and asking about the Dongzhi Festival. There just aren't going to be many takers. Nevertheless, it was a fine meal, and well worth the 25 or so dollars we each paid for it. There was much turkey and ham and potato to be had. And the desserts, how many there were. Thinking about it now only makes me wish we could've taken some for leftovers.

Throughout the week, I tought my students about the holiday--the history, the customs, the introspection, etc. Most people here don't really know or care much about it, since there aren't quite enough foreigners in Wuhan to make the holiday profitable. But we, in true American fashion, still managed to do the most patriotic (or ex-patriotic) thing we could think of and stuffed ourselves silly. Here are a few snapshots of the evening.

The Yangtze River at night.

Cori with ice sculpture and buffet in back.

The first of many plates of food.

Walking through the lobby. Fancy.

Posing with the holiday display.

Fine for China, but Not for America

The FDA has just deemed it safe for me to eat my words.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/14/business/worldbusiness/14fda.html?ref=business