Last week, I got an interesting look at three different sectors through which foreigners interact with China. The three experiences gave me a lot to think about, and many comparisons to ponder.
Last Monday, CIEE arranged a lecture by a guy who has made his career helping multi-national corporations with risk management in China (Enterprise Risk Management: Mitigating the Risks of Globalization). Beforehand, I was a little worried that this would be a very, very boring two hours (I mean, “risk management” sounds about as exciting as tying your shoes before getting on an escalator…). However, our speaker entertained and informed us, regaling us with the details of how companies deal with (or try to deal with) the vagaries of Chinese government policy, corruption, fraud, and intellectual copyright infringement, and how they adapt to the more benign but no less impactful differences in culture and perspective. He (I’ve forgotten his name…fail) seemed like someone with tons of firsthand experience, and he showed a respect for both the good and bad aspects of the Chinese and American ways of doing business. One moment that struck me, though, was when he said that “foreign companies are teaching China how to modernize.” Probably true, to a certain extent—but it also feels like a comment right out of early-20th century China; at best, if felt at least a couple decades out of date. Right now, it feels like the Chinese have a pretty good handle on where they want to go as a country and how to get there, at least economically. They no longer need hand holding from Western companies. The next comment that gave me some pause was when he described how all foreign companies in China have a couple expats stationed here to oversee operations, but hire local Chinese for almost all other positions—from management positions, to office workers, to laborers. Yet, because of the language barrier, the expats really just have to trust that their ideas and rules and orders are being followed and understood, as they’re basically totally excluded from the inner culture and workings of their own company (he was especially citing foreign companies’ efforts to communicate their anti-corruption and non-compete policies to their workers).
Both of these aspects of what it means to be a foreign company doing business in China seemed incredibly retro to me, right out of 19th-century Shanghai. From the 1840s until 1949, foreign companies in China had a couple of taipans (rich, largely useless managers who spent all their time and money on food and Western leisure pursuits) stationed in Shanghai, who did basically none of the work—everything was done by a Chinese comprador (a Portuguese term that became universal), who actually ran the company’s day-to-day affairs and managed investments. Now, of course, Chinese workers do high-level professional work as well as labor-intensive low-level work; companies put significant effort into thinking about how to best structure and deploy their Chinese staff. But it just seems funny to me. It’s not that it doesn’t make sense; it’s clearly the most efficient way of doing things. And clearly it works, or companies wouldn’t still be doing it this way. But still. How much has changed since a century ago? So much. But also, weirdly enough, in some ways not so much.
Wednesday night, I went to a reception for American students at the US consulate. Notable lessons: 1. Working in a consulate sounds very, very boring, and 2. Americans can ALWAYS have a great BBQ, no matter where they are in the world. Think hamburgers and hot dogs, potato salad, gooey chocolate chip cookies…I’ve been loving the Chinese food I’ve been eating here, but even so, that hamburger was freaking amazing.
Now, I don’t wish to disparage the State Department and the consulate when they showed me such great hospitality. There are certainly some interesting aspects of their work; they police fraud by both American and Chinese companies, and are working very closely on executing the American Pavilion at the World Expo which will be in Shanghai from May-October of 2010 (Better City, Better Life!). There are certainly some very boring aspects of their work; they spend a lot of time and staff on citizens services (replacing passports, birth and death certificates for Americans who are born or who die in Shanghai, etc.), and probably an equal amount on issuing visas for Chinese who wish to go to America. Apparently Shanghai issued the 5th largest number of US visas in the world last year. Lucky them. I also met some interesting Americans, such as this group from a program called “Global College”…basically they spend each year of college in a different place, and they’re all (there are like 30 in each grade) basically international relations majors, with a sub-specialty of their own. To be honest, I was a little weirded out by this group, I think mostly because they were so down on the traditional American college experience (although, really, how would they know?). Clearly I believe in study abroad and different types of learning…but I also believe that at some point you need to be in a classroom, learning a wide variety of things, even some things you don’t really like (one girl told me that a major reason she chose the program is that she wouldn’t have to take math ever again…this girl is running a long way from math…). I think I just don’t like feeling like the most conventional, stodgy person in a conversation. Which I guess is probably a daily reality if you work at a US consulate…kidding…that was mean. They gave me a hamburger, after all. If I ever lost my passport, the last couple sentences will be summarily deleted and will never have happened. But until then, I need something to provide some levity to this monstrosity of a post, and, I mean…the US Diplomatic Corp is known for being a great source of levity. Right?
Now, everything of any importance or interest must come in threes, and the best thing is always last, so now we come to the Baby Bear event that was “just right” for me.
The event was an evening of speakers about environmental entrepreneurship and action in China. I was invited by Elizabeth Campbell, the Milton and Yale grad with whom I had a very enjoyable lunch a couple weeks ago. Elizabeth was one of the speakers at the event, along with a woman who founded a “social business” called Greenovate that seeks to “integrate sustainable concepts into traditional business and community practices”, two Chinese university students who volunteer for Greenovate and spent their summer teaching rural schoolchildren about sustainable practices and the environment, the founder of the progressive design company Frog Design, the founder of Naked Retreats, a resort company, and the founder of Eno, a clothing and accessories company that seeks to promote environmental awareness and action among China youth while selling them nifty fashion items. All of the companies spoke of their “bottom-up” approach to creating social change by promoting environmental awareness in China; they all had different approaches and products, but similar philosophies. Let me report: Greenovate highlighted its MaGiC (Made Green in China) public awareness and action program which they launched this weekend (www.joinmagic.org). The Frog Design founder said that “The ultimate challenge for Design is to create objects which are useful art, and to inspire spiritual values…,” adding that “Waste is the product of bad design.” The Naked Retreats guy said that China represents an “enormous opportunity to educate individual communities” on how to live more sustainably, and also said that his company planned to build the first LEED Platinum resort with more than 100 rooms in the world—in China. That was pretty cool. Eno said that their mission was to “inspire China youth to make a difference through fashion and fun.” The lady who founded Eno with her husband also remarked that Chinese consumers are starting to be willing to pay more for a product because it’s “green,” and she thinks there is a huge and very profitable niche for the company or companies that first manage to craft an image of being “green companies” in China. Elizabeth represented her organization, JUCCE (Joint US-China Collaboration on Clean Energy –www.juccce.com), which uses a more “top-down” approach to promoting sustainable practices by working with the Chinese government and businesses. Elizabeth called JUCCE a “convener, with an eye to action.”
OK so enough exposition. Basically, this event was SO COOL and gave me an inside look at some of the stuff that is going on here in regards to the environment. It also brought home to me that part of why I’m learning Chinese is that I’d love to be involved with this sort of “social business” or non-profit work in China. As was emphasized throughout the evening, a little bit of change by a mass of individuals is a powerful idea in China, where the mass of individuals is bigger than anywhere else.
Something that both the Chinese students and Elizabeth’s presentation touched on was the Chinese idea of pursuing an “environmentally harmonious society.” In the US, the idea of ‘harmony with nature” seems like a very hippy-dippy crunchy goal to espouse, and would certainly never be the basis of a government public service campaign. But here in China, such a principle is ancient and seems to work as a motivator, or at least it seems that way from how I’ve seen and heard it used while I’ve been here. I was also interested that both of the Chinese students highlighted water pollution as a motivator for them; one girl said that her dream is that her children will be able to swim in the lake in her home city. Environmental destruction is such a concrete reality here; in the US, it often seems like somewhat of an abstraction, with all the focus on emissions and less on pollution. You can’t see or taste or smell carbon dioxide, and its effects on the environment are not at all cut and dry. A lake or river so clogged with debris and spoiled by chemicals that humans can barely go near it is a whole other ballgame.
So things are happening here. Maybe on a small scale, maybe too small. But think about this: 5 years ago, Greenovate, Eno, and JUCCE didn’t exist (that might be true for Naked Retreats, too, not sure). And now they’re established organizations and companies that are starting to make an impact. And think about this: in 5 years in China, the equivalent of 10 New York Cities are constructed in new development. So yes, there is a ton to do here. But the pace of change is also so fast that social change can take root quickly. My fingers are crossed.
Not a lot of other goings on, and this post is getting so long. I’m going to Beijing on Thursday for 8 days, and probably won’t bring my computer, and probably won’t post unless I get super inspired by all the National Day fervor.
One last thing…last Thursday, one of the CIEE college students here, a senior at UPenn, died in an accident in his dorm room. His name was Kenny, and I’d appreciate if you could send out a prayer or a moment of silence for him and his family and friends. We Gap Year students don’t really interact with the college students here, so I had never met him, but it’s still really sad and scary.
See you in a couple of weeks, and be well! Peace.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
My Host Family!
I thought that, since I have a dearth of super exciting events/activities to report (life is great, class is hard but good, I went to a “hot yoga” aka Bikram yoga class this weekend and it was lovely…), I would write about a central part of my experience here, which also happens, luckily, to be one of my favorite things about my life here: my host family. There’s so much I could say, and I have to go to bed soon, so I really truly am going to keep this short.
I think that for now I really want to focus on my host mom, because I’m a little bit obsessed with her. She’s 38 years old, works for Wrigley (yes, the gum company…not sure what she does exactly, but she gets free samples which she gives me…), and spends most of her time either at work or helping her daughter with her homework. Seriously…she leaves at 7:30 each morning, gets home between 6 and 7 pm, and spends most of the weekend and every evening from after dinner until 10 or 11 helping her daughter with her homework. And Judy is only 10…I shudder to think what life will be like when she has to prep for the all-important high school examination. Every so often, Liu Mama goes shopping or to lunch with friends or her sisters (she has 4 sisters, I think), plays mah jong in the neighborhood center where we eat dinner, and she’s gone to dinner/karaoke with her colleagues a couple of times. Her English is very good, and she is also very good at helping me with my Chinese—a perfect balance. In fact, I learned this week that she used to be a Chinese teacher (for Chinese 5th graders, so she taught reading and grammar and stuff), 10 years ago she said. She’s very glamorous and always looks very pulled together, with lightly highlighted and wavy hair, a tiny frame, and the much-desired pale skin (which she’s pretty proud of, I think, given the fact that she laments how dark her daughter is), and could definitely pass for much younger than she is. Yesterday, I spent a good amount of time looking at old family pictures that they showed me; my favorite pictures were the ones of Liu Mama and He Baba (my host mother and father…in China women are prohibited from taking their husband’s name) in 1997 (so pre-Judy) on vacation in rural China. In all of the pictures of my host mother, she is in very “model-ly” (just coined that word…) poses…and funnily enough, all the pictures of my host dad have him in sort of classic men’s model poses, looking pretty awkward. There are very very few pictures of the two of them together, and most are these glamour-shot type photos. It made me smile to think of this young married couple, in their late-20s, the product of post-Deng China and fully urban Shanghairen, thinking up pictures and poses (although I’m almost positive that my host mother would have been the driving force and certainly creative director of the shoot….) along the banks of a very rural looking river and in front of cliffs, etc. The glimpse into their life together was both endearing and illuminating, and for whatever reason moved me.
As I mentioned before, my host mother doesn’t cook at all. I thought that was weird at first, but it’s become clear to me that her work is pretty all-consuming, and on the weekends I can understand why she doesn’t want to spend her time cooking. One fact, casually mentioned last week, that most clearly shows the importance of her career in her life, is that she sent Judy to live with her parents until Judy was 5 so she could work. Her parents live in Shanghai (I haven’t met any family members yet, even though they all live in Shanghai…), but an hour away, so Liu Mama saw her daughter once a week for the first 5 years of Judy’s life (until she started school, I guess). AH. I sort of freaked when I heard that, because it totally brought home the realities of being a young, upper middle/upper class professional in China, and how much more intense work and pressure and the drive to succeed at all costs is than in America. I don’t think that it’s necessarily worse here…my family seems very close-knit and happy, even if they’ve only been living all together for 5 years (half of Judy’s life was spent living with her grandparents, half with her parents….crazy). And in America, professional women either have to scale back their careers or hire nannies or other “help” or send their kids to preschool…and I don’t think of any of those options as inherently bad in and of themselves, because I’m used to them and I think that each can be good or bad depending on the particular situation. So I guess sending your child to be raised by your parents seems harsh to me because I’m not used to it, the same way that my host mother curiously asked me about whether I had babysitters as a child, and whether my mom worked (she mentioned that on TV it seems like Americans mom often stay home with their kids…I didn’t know how to react to her question/statement, since it’s true but also not true at the same time…this post is getting more and more inarticulate…).
OK I ran out my personal clock and am going to bed now. I have tons more to say about Judy and my host mom and my host dad, but I will have to say it another time.
Tomorrow I’m going to a reception at the US Consulate for students studying in Shanghai, and Friday I’m going to this panel on green companies/ technology/ activity in Shanghai and China in general. Both very exciting. Will let you know how it goes. Peace.
I think that for now I really want to focus on my host mom, because I’m a little bit obsessed with her. She’s 38 years old, works for Wrigley (yes, the gum company…not sure what she does exactly, but she gets free samples which she gives me…), and spends most of her time either at work or helping her daughter with her homework. Seriously…she leaves at 7:30 each morning, gets home between 6 and 7 pm, and spends most of the weekend and every evening from after dinner until 10 or 11 helping her daughter with her homework. And Judy is only 10…I shudder to think what life will be like when she has to prep for the all-important high school examination. Every so often, Liu Mama goes shopping or to lunch with friends or her sisters (she has 4 sisters, I think), plays mah jong in the neighborhood center where we eat dinner, and she’s gone to dinner/karaoke with her colleagues a couple of times. Her English is very good, and she is also very good at helping me with my Chinese—a perfect balance. In fact, I learned this week that she used to be a Chinese teacher (for Chinese 5th graders, so she taught reading and grammar and stuff), 10 years ago she said. She’s very glamorous and always looks very pulled together, with lightly highlighted and wavy hair, a tiny frame, and the much-desired pale skin (which she’s pretty proud of, I think, given the fact that she laments how dark her daughter is), and could definitely pass for much younger than she is. Yesterday, I spent a good amount of time looking at old family pictures that they showed me; my favorite pictures were the ones of Liu Mama and He Baba (my host mother and father…in China women are prohibited from taking their husband’s name) in 1997 (so pre-Judy) on vacation in rural China. In all of the pictures of my host mother, she is in very “model-ly” (just coined that word…) poses…and funnily enough, all the pictures of my host dad have him in sort of classic men’s model poses, looking pretty awkward. There are very very few pictures of the two of them together, and most are these glamour-shot type photos. It made me smile to think of this young married couple, in their late-20s, the product of post-Deng China and fully urban Shanghairen, thinking up pictures and poses (although I’m almost positive that my host mother would have been the driving force and certainly creative director of the shoot….) along the banks of a very rural looking river and in front of cliffs, etc. The glimpse into their life together was both endearing and illuminating, and for whatever reason moved me.
As I mentioned before, my host mother doesn’t cook at all. I thought that was weird at first, but it’s become clear to me that her work is pretty all-consuming, and on the weekends I can understand why she doesn’t want to spend her time cooking. One fact, casually mentioned last week, that most clearly shows the importance of her career in her life, is that she sent Judy to live with her parents until Judy was 5 so she could work. Her parents live in Shanghai (I haven’t met any family members yet, even though they all live in Shanghai…), but an hour away, so Liu Mama saw her daughter once a week for the first 5 years of Judy’s life (until she started school, I guess). AH. I sort of freaked when I heard that, because it totally brought home the realities of being a young, upper middle/upper class professional in China, and how much more intense work and pressure and the drive to succeed at all costs is than in America. I don’t think that it’s necessarily worse here…my family seems very close-knit and happy, even if they’ve only been living all together for 5 years (half of Judy’s life was spent living with her grandparents, half with her parents….crazy). And in America, professional women either have to scale back their careers or hire nannies or other “help” or send their kids to preschool…and I don’t think of any of those options as inherently bad in and of themselves, because I’m used to them and I think that each can be good or bad depending on the particular situation. So I guess sending your child to be raised by your parents seems harsh to me because I’m not used to it, the same way that my host mother curiously asked me about whether I had babysitters as a child, and whether my mom worked (she mentioned that on TV it seems like Americans mom often stay home with their kids…I didn’t know how to react to her question/statement, since it’s true but also not true at the same time…this post is getting more and more inarticulate…).
OK I ran out my personal clock and am going to bed now. I have tons more to say about Judy and my host mom and my host dad, but I will have to say it another time.
Tomorrow I’m going to a reception at the US Consulate for students studying in Shanghai, and Friday I’m going to this panel on green companies/ technology/ activity in Shanghai and China in general. Both very exciting. Will let you know how it goes. Peace.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Quick Update!
And by “quick update,” I actually mean a post of normal length and verbosity. Sorry….
So it turns out, surprise surprise, that now that classes have gotten into full swing, I have less free time than before. Who would have thought. Hence the long silence. I guess that last post was so long, though, that it sort of made up for the long gap.
This past week has been good, but sort of quiet; it definitely feels like we’re getting into more of a routine, which is actually pretty nice, even if I have homework and have to get up early. As it turns out, the long period of “orientation” we had from our arrival on August 27 until last Friday the 11th was, in fact, unintentional on CIEE’s part. Apparently, ECNU (East China Normal University, where I’m taking classes) starts on an arbitrary date each year which is decided sometime in mid-July. When CIEE set the start date of the program back in May, they had to approximate based on last year’s schedule when the university would start. And for whatever reason, ECNU started a week later this year…what a system. So after our two weeks of leisure, we’ve finally started classes. I’m in a pretty hard class, but I chose to move up from where I was originally placed because I figure if I’m only here for three months and my grades don’t matter, I might as well be challenged. Hopefully I won’t regret that decision. So far, though, I really like the class. It’s three hours every morning with a 15 minute break, but the time goes surprisingly quickly (except for the last half hour, which is killer and usually involves me checking the time every few minutes).
Other happenings…I’ll work backwards. On Tuesday, I taught English at the school for the children of migrant workers for the first time. This basically consisted of me and the friend I’m teaching with making complete fools of ourselves in front of 50 bemused fifth graders. We got really into miming baking a cake, and it may have gotten away from us a little bit….I think it went well, but I also think it’s hard to say after only an hour of teaching whether you’ve accomplished anything or not. One thing I noticed was that girls would not raise their hands to answer a question, but most of the time if we called on them anyway they could answer, while the boys were more likely to raise their hand, but often would have an answer that had nothing to do with the question asked. This may be true of fifth graders everywhere, but I found it interesting nonetheless.
Saturday, I met up with a recent Milton and Yale grad, Lisa Campbell, who is working for an environmental organization in Shanghai (Thank you, Ms. Wade!). It was a very fun afternoon, and it was so great to get to talk to someone with so many experiences in common with me (she was co-head of PIB too!), and with so many thoughts on China and Milton and Yale and the environment and so many other interesting things…basically, you should be jealous. It was awesome. It was also the first time that it really hit me that I’m now a Milton alum, probably because it was the first time that I’d really reflected on Milton through the rose-colored glasses of knowing that I’m not actually enrolled there. Not to say that I don’t miss Milton (to be honest, I probably miss Milton more than I miss the US or home in general, by a combination of lingering post-graduation nostalgia and general warm feelings towards anything across the Pacific). It was just interesting to feel myself looking at Milton from a completely different frame of reference.
After meeting Lisa, I went with a friend to the famed (and fame-worthy) Shanghai Museum, which houses an amazing collection of ancient artifacts, in particular ancient Bronzes and Ming and Qing Dynasty porcelain. I mention this visit because we were not at all prepared for the epic line to get through security to enter this free museum…just from the amount of Mandarin we heard in line, I would say that going to the museum is not only popular with tourists, but with Shanghairen as well. Interesting, since museums in the states hardly ever have lines for the general exhibits and are usually filled with school children, tourists, and the elderly.
Thursday we had our first martial arts class, with our teacher Yang Shifu (Master Yang). Yang Shifu is nuts. He is a martial arts professor at ECNU, and he showed us some of the stuff he can do, which was simultaneously amazing and scary (scary, because it involved him throwing each of us to the ground in turn…). He’s very friendly and I think Thursday afternoons will him will always be pretty entertaining.
The highlight of Wednesday, and indeed one of the my favorite moments of the whole time here so far, was the walking tour we did of the French Concession. The French Concession is home to the shikumen lilongs, tenement housing from the early 20th century built in a hybrid East/West style. Each complex is huge, expanding from a small entrance on a main street into a web of small alleys and lanes lined with narrow, low-ceilinged houses, most with a little courtyard or patio in front of them. Walking into a shikumen lilong is a bit like walking into a time warp, except for the high rises and construction that looms over each one. Indeed, most of the shikumen lilongs are being razed and replaced by high rises in the government’s efforts to “modernize” Shanghai; apparently the residents are normally forced to move to housing far removed from the center of the city, albeit housing with better sanitation and modern conveniences than the shikumen lilongs. It was an absolutely fascinating walking tour, as the whole neighborhood felt like it was in a confusing mix of degradation and renewal, nostalgia and evolution, loss and the push to keep moving forward despite the loss. I know I’m romanticizing, but it’s one of those little pockets of the world that one feels totally justified in romanticizing, especially since it’s disappearing. As I walked through, I kept thinking about Boston and the West End, and how this push by the Chinese government to “modernize” feels pretty “retro” rather than “modern” to me…another one of the numerous (infinite?) paradoxes of modern China.
Other news…I got selected to go to a reception for American students studying abroad in Shanghai at the US Consulate on Wednesday! I will definitely let you know how that goes. I’m excited.
My group is going to Beijing during the first week of October, which is a national holiday week and also the 60th anniversary of the PRC. We’ve been told by like every Chinese person we’ve told our plans to that we’re insane to be going then since everyone in China wants to be in Beijing, but we have a plane ticket there and a hostel room reserved. No way home yet, but we’re going to get a train ticket as soon as they go on sale…we hope.
I have so many more observations and thoughts, but no time because it’s almost 11 here and I have to go to sleep. I’ll post this weekend, I think. I can’t believe I’ve already been here for three weeks!
So it turns out, surprise surprise, that now that classes have gotten into full swing, I have less free time than before. Who would have thought. Hence the long silence. I guess that last post was so long, though, that it sort of made up for the long gap.
This past week has been good, but sort of quiet; it definitely feels like we’re getting into more of a routine, which is actually pretty nice, even if I have homework and have to get up early. As it turns out, the long period of “orientation” we had from our arrival on August 27 until last Friday the 11th was, in fact, unintentional on CIEE’s part. Apparently, ECNU (East China Normal University, where I’m taking classes) starts on an arbitrary date each year which is decided sometime in mid-July. When CIEE set the start date of the program back in May, they had to approximate based on last year’s schedule when the university would start. And for whatever reason, ECNU started a week later this year…what a system. So after our two weeks of leisure, we’ve finally started classes. I’m in a pretty hard class, but I chose to move up from where I was originally placed because I figure if I’m only here for three months and my grades don’t matter, I might as well be challenged. Hopefully I won’t regret that decision. So far, though, I really like the class. It’s three hours every morning with a 15 minute break, but the time goes surprisingly quickly (except for the last half hour, which is killer and usually involves me checking the time every few minutes).
Other happenings…I’ll work backwards. On Tuesday, I taught English at the school for the children of migrant workers for the first time. This basically consisted of me and the friend I’m teaching with making complete fools of ourselves in front of 50 bemused fifth graders. We got really into miming baking a cake, and it may have gotten away from us a little bit….I think it went well, but I also think it’s hard to say after only an hour of teaching whether you’ve accomplished anything or not. One thing I noticed was that girls would not raise their hands to answer a question, but most of the time if we called on them anyway they could answer, while the boys were more likely to raise their hand, but often would have an answer that had nothing to do with the question asked. This may be true of fifth graders everywhere, but I found it interesting nonetheless.
Saturday, I met up with a recent Milton and Yale grad, Lisa Campbell, who is working for an environmental organization in Shanghai (Thank you, Ms. Wade!). It was a very fun afternoon, and it was so great to get to talk to someone with so many experiences in common with me (she was co-head of PIB too!), and with so many thoughts on China and Milton and Yale and the environment and so many other interesting things…basically, you should be jealous. It was awesome. It was also the first time that it really hit me that I’m now a Milton alum, probably because it was the first time that I’d really reflected on Milton through the rose-colored glasses of knowing that I’m not actually enrolled there. Not to say that I don’t miss Milton (to be honest, I probably miss Milton more than I miss the US or home in general, by a combination of lingering post-graduation nostalgia and general warm feelings towards anything across the Pacific). It was just interesting to feel myself looking at Milton from a completely different frame of reference.
After meeting Lisa, I went with a friend to the famed (and fame-worthy) Shanghai Museum, which houses an amazing collection of ancient artifacts, in particular ancient Bronzes and Ming and Qing Dynasty porcelain. I mention this visit because we were not at all prepared for the epic line to get through security to enter this free museum…just from the amount of Mandarin we heard in line, I would say that going to the museum is not only popular with tourists, but with Shanghairen as well. Interesting, since museums in the states hardly ever have lines for the general exhibits and are usually filled with school children, tourists, and the elderly.
Thursday we had our first martial arts class, with our teacher Yang Shifu (Master Yang). Yang Shifu is nuts. He is a martial arts professor at ECNU, and he showed us some of the stuff he can do, which was simultaneously amazing and scary (scary, because it involved him throwing each of us to the ground in turn…). He’s very friendly and I think Thursday afternoons will him will always be pretty entertaining.
The highlight of Wednesday, and indeed one of the my favorite moments of the whole time here so far, was the walking tour we did of the French Concession. The French Concession is home to the shikumen lilongs, tenement housing from the early 20th century built in a hybrid East/West style. Each complex is huge, expanding from a small entrance on a main street into a web of small alleys and lanes lined with narrow, low-ceilinged houses, most with a little courtyard or patio in front of them. Walking into a shikumen lilong is a bit like walking into a time warp, except for the high rises and construction that looms over each one. Indeed, most of the shikumen lilongs are being razed and replaced by high rises in the government’s efforts to “modernize” Shanghai; apparently the residents are normally forced to move to housing far removed from the center of the city, albeit housing with better sanitation and modern conveniences than the shikumen lilongs. It was an absolutely fascinating walking tour, as the whole neighborhood felt like it was in a confusing mix of degradation and renewal, nostalgia and evolution, loss and the push to keep moving forward despite the loss. I know I’m romanticizing, but it’s one of those little pockets of the world that one feels totally justified in romanticizing, especially since it’s disappearing. As I walked through, I kept thinking about Boston and the West End, and how this push by the Chinese government to “modernize” feels pretty “retro” rather than “modern” to me…another one of the numerous (infinite?) paradoxes of modern China.
Other news…I got selected to go to a reception for American students studying abroad in Shanghai at the US Consulate on Wednesday! I will definitely let you know how that goes. I’m excited.
My group is going to Beijing during the first week of October, which is a national holiday week and also the 60th anniversary of the PRC. We’ve been told by like every Chinese person we’ve told our plans to that we’re insane to be going then since everyone in China wants to be in Beijing, but we have a plane ticket there and a hostel room reserved. No way home yet, but we’re going to get a train ticket as soon as they go on sale…we hope.
I have so many more observations and thoughts, but no time because it’s almost 11 here and I have to go to sleep. I’ll post this weekend, I think. I can’t believe I’ve already been here for three weeks!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The Serious Post -- Art, China, the Environment, and the Meaning of Life
I promised a more serious post, and I spent a lot of time this weekend thinking about what to write about. I found some inspiration today when I visited the Shanghai Art Museum. I had the afternoon free (the 5 people staying for the whole year had to go get a medical exam, so the 3 of us just doing a semester got free time), so I went on a solo-excursion. Before I launch into my main topic—which is, in case this long intro is making you antsy, what I’ve observed in my little time here about China and the environment—I just want to say that so far I think my favorite thing about my gap year is the me-time. One of the reasons I took a year off was to create some head-space for myself, and this afternoon was one luxurious stretch of Abby-on-Abby bonding time. There is something deeply peaceful about having an afternoon to yourself; I was able to chart my own course, walk where I wanted, think about anything that occurred to me, idle in a park, move at my own pace, and it was lovely. One of the things that occurred to me as I was enjoying my own company, however, was that the luxurious me-time is also the most dangerous part of a gap year; over the course of the last two weeks, I have found myself becoming very self-centered in every sense of the word. I worry so much about how everything around me is contributing to “my experience,” and concentrate almost exclusively on what I’m learning and feeling, what I want to do, and how to make the most of my time. I think part of this self-centeredness is just me adjusting to a different pace and setting and purpose than I have had for the past four years. I’ve set a goal for myself to try to become self-aware rather than self-focused. My gap year has a goal! Woah.
OK. That was quite philosophical and heady. Back to China and the environment…not that that topic is any less heady.
Three of the exhibits I visited in the Shanghai Art Museum—which is housed, in case you were wondering, in the beautiful old club house of the British horse racing club in Shanghai—made me reflect in different ways on the Chinese view of and relationship with nature. The first exhibit was very modern and edgy; the painter claims man’s relationship with the environment and ecological balance as his inspiration and subject, yet his paintings are splotches of bright colors, incomprehensible shapes and splatters, which, while evoking contrast and movement, did not particularly draw my mind to the environment. His paintings did broadcast emotion, which I guess was their purpose. They were angry and energetic, often jarring and discordant. Here was a man who did not see or paint a harmonious relationship between man and nature. Instead, he painted imbalance, and this imbalance clearly made him angry.
The second exhibit was the complete opposite, featuring classical style Chinese scrolls painted by a modern painter with exquisite likenesses of carp, insects, birds, and flowers. I found this exhibit “nice”: boring in its prettiness, slightly engaging because of the painter’s skillful mechanics. What I did find interesting about the exhibit, however, was that, interspersed between the classical depictions of harmonious nature, were scrolls featuring city streets, Communist monuments, and people doing everyday tasks, all done in the same meticulous style as the natural subjects. There was no commentary with the exhibit, no justification for the lay-out. Indeed, it’s definitely possible that the scrolls were arranged with complete indifference. Even if it was unintentional, I find it interesting that these settings and subjects completely removed from nature were placed side by side with those very traditional scrolls depicting nature. Does this say anything about the Chinese attitude towards nature? Perhaps not. But in the context of the next exhibit, I found it very interesting.
This last exhibit was my favorite, and also featured scrolls. These scrolls, however, carried some of the discordance and anger of the first exhibit; they were painted with slashes of black and red, with splotches of other colors here and there. Often, the colored splotches resembled light bulbs, and the stripes and shades of black and other colors felt, to me, very industrial, like scaffolding or the windows of an apartment complex. In the midst of the darkness and chaos, or hiding at the edges, were gaps where the creamy white of the scroll showed through. In those little pocket of white, the artist had painted—in the same meticulous, classical style as the other scroll painter—little carp or sparrows. Nature peeking through, in some cases almost observing the industrial, modern chaos, in all cases on the verge of being swallowed up. I loved these scrolls, as I felt they integrated the anger and despair of the first exhibit and the awareness of nature and Chinese tradition of the second.
But what do these three exhibits mean in regards to China’s relationship with nature? Well, I can’t claim to give any kind of comprehensive account of “China and the Environment.” Nor can I comment on industrial China, China on the world stage, or even any kind of universal mindset towards the environment. What I do think these exhibits showed is a Chinese sense of ambivalence about the environment and nature. Not indifference, as is so often depicted in the Western media, but ambivalence. Nature is something to be sympathized with, to be protected, as the first artist showed; it is something whose beauty is to be appreciated, but in much the same way we appreciate fine architecture and modernity—for its balance, and for how it pleases us, as the second artist showed. And finally, nature is something which is vulnerable, but which cannot be completely separated from our human society, as the third artist showed. I don’t think any of these views is completely dominant; nor do I think the museum meant for these three exhibits to have any common themes, I’m just extrapolating here. But this museum visit coupled with my observations from the last few weeks made me do a lot of thinking this afternoon. The actions the Chinese government is taking to curb consumption and promote sustainability reflect, mostly, the second perspective, in that they are all motivated by human concerns. The government has banned or placed a heavy tax on plastic bags in supermarkets and other large stores; it is promoting the building of sustainable buildings (meaning energy- and water-conserving buildings). These actions come out of a sense of necessity, and nationalism. China has so many people that conserving water and energy is a necessity, rather than a moral issue. China builds more LEED-certified buildings every year than any other country, because of this necessity, but also because the government and business community see green technology as something China can make itself the best at, and use to gain prestige in the international community. Similarly, my host family is obsessed with turning out lights, not using the air conditioning, and not using hot water because energy and utilities are expensive, not because of environmental concerns (or at least they haven’t expressed any environmental concerns to me). Does it matter why they act this way? No, because the effect is the same. But is it enough, from an environmental perspective? Probably not. But we in the United States, with all of the energy and guilt we expend on worrying about the environment, don’t seem to be doing much better. My Chinese family’s carbon footprint is so much smaller than anyone I know in America, even the most environmentally conscious people. They don’t own a car and walk, bike, or take public transportation everywhere, don’t have heating in their home, don’t own a dryer, don’t fly often or at all, and are conscientious about their appliances and electricity. They don’t recycle, don’t have solar panels, don’t buy carbon credits, and don’t eat organic or local food—but does it matter?
I think that the environmental “balance” we need to seek now is a balance between American environmental angst and moral questioning and this Chinese practicality. One without the other is not enough; we Americans may love the trees, but we can’t seem to give up any parts of our lifestyle because we feel that we have no direct impetus to do so, other than our moral qualms. And as the Chinese become richer, they may abandon their current frugality, with disastrous results. Going to the museum gave me a glimpse the complexity of the Chinese way of thinking about the environment—just like the American way of thinking about the environment. We have our Manifest Destiny attitudes, our Romanticism, our rural co-existence, our urban indifference, the Hummer and the Prius. Looking at artists may not be the best way to come to any conclusions about a society and where it is headed, but they are a good example of what a culture is thinking, and how it processes change. I have so many other thoughts about Chinese history and how this all plays in (“Topics” with Ms. Wade…a year later, and it’s still so awesome); about Communism and Confucius and the Chinese tradition of seeing the natural wrapped up with the human, but this post is so long, and I obviously haven’t sorted any of this out in my head. I hope this post wasn’t too muddled (or long!). Let me know what you think.
Other goings-on, quickly…I saw my cousin/godmother Katharine Lister on Sunday! She was in town with Senator Maria Cantwell, her boss. We went into the city center and grabbed a snack; it was so great to see her! Saturday I went to the Shanghai Urban Exhibition Center, which is basically the city museum; it’s all about the Shanghai of the future and all the modern stuff they’re building (when I started fomenting all these thoughts). Monday we visited the Sunshine Home for children with cerebral palsy and other disabilities. I think I want to go back on my own, because these kids were so kind and welcoming, and clearly ecstatic to have visitors. There were so patient with us, as they helped us make strawberries out of beads (it’s super cool, but I felt pretty helpless/incompetent as they skillfully guided us through the process). It’s a little shocking, however, that these kids—many of whom seemed to have just physical disabilities with no mental problems at all—must live in a home; our teacher told us that the disabled are much less integrated into society in China than in America. Maybe a topic for another post?
Sending all my good wishes and love to you back in America! I really am having a great time, and I can’t wait to get into the swing of classes later this week.
OK. That was quite philosophical and heady. Back to China and the environment…not that that topic is any less heady.
Three of the exhibits I visited in the Shanghai Art Museum—which is housed, in case you were wondering, in the beautiful old club house of the British horse racing club in Shanghai—made me reflect in different ways on the Chinese view of and relationship with nature. The first exhibit was very modern and edgy; the painter claims man’s relationship with the environment and ecological balance as his inspiration and subject, yet his paintings are splotches of bright colors, incomprehensible shapes and splatters, which, while evoking contrast and movement, did not particularly draw my mind to the environment. His paintings did broadcast emotion, which I guess was their purpose. They were angry and energetic, often jarring and discordant. Here was a man who did not see or paint a harmonious relationship between man and nature. Instead, he painted imbalance, and this imbalance clearly made him angry.
The second exhibit was the complete opposite, featuring classical style Chinese scrolls painted by a modern painter with exquisite likenesses of carp, insects, birds, and flowers. I found this exhibit “nice”: boring in its prettiness, slightly engaging because of the painter’s skillful mechanics. What I did find interesting about the exhibit, however, was that, interspersed between the classical depictions of harmonious nature, were scrolls featuring city streets, Communist monuments, and people doing everyday tasks, all done in the same meticulous style as the natural subjects. There was no commentary with the exhibit, no justification for the lay-out. Indeed, it’s definitely possible that the scrolls were arranged with complete indifference. Even if it was unintentional, I find it interesting that these settings and subjects completely removed from nature were placed side by side with those very traditional scrolls depicting nature. Does this say anything about the Chinese attitude towards nature? Perhaps not. But in the context of the next exhibit, I found it very interesting.
This last exhibit was my favorite, and also featured scrolls. These scrolls, however, carried some of the discordance and anger of the first exhibit; they were painted with slashes of black and red, with splotches of other colors here and there. Often, the colored splotches resembled light bulbs, and the stripes and shades of black and other colors felt, to me, very industrial, like scaffolding or the windows of an apartment complex. In the midst of the darkness and chaos, or hiding at the edges, were gaps where the creamy white of the scroll showed through. In those little pocket of white, the artist had painted—in the same meticulous, classical style as the other scroll painter—little carp or sparrows. Nature peeking through, in some cases almost observing the industrial, modern chaos, in all cases on the verge of being swallowed up. I loved these scrolls, as I felt they integrated the anger and despair of the first exhibit and the awareness of nature and Chinese tradition of the second.
But what do these three exhibits mean in regards to China’s relationship with nature? Well, I can’t claim to give any kind of comprehensive account of “China and the Environment.” Nor can I comment on industrial China, China on the world stage, or even any kind of universal mindset towards the environment. What I do think these exhibits showed is a Chinese sense of ambivalence about the environment and nature. Not indifference, as is so often depicted in the Western media, but ambivalence. Nature is something to be sympathized with, to be protected, as the first artist showed; it is something whose beauty is to be appreciated, but in much the same way we appreciate fine architecture and modernity—for its balance, and for how it pleases us, as the second artist showed. And finally, nature is something which is vulnerable, but which cannot be completely separated from our human society, as the third artist showed. I don’t think any of these views is completely dominant; nor do I think the museum meant for these three exhibits to have any common themes, I’m just extrapolating here. But this museum visit coupled with my observations from the last few weeks made me do a lot of thinking this afternoon. The actions the Chinese government is taking to curb consumption and promote sustainability reflect, mostly, the second perspective, in that they are all motivated by human concerns. The government has banned or placed a heavy tax on plastic bags in supermarkets and other large stores; it is promoting the building of sustainable buildings (meaning energy- and water-conserving buildings). These actions come out of a sense of necessity, and nationalism. China has so many people that conserving water and energy is a necessity, rather than a moral issue. China builds more LEED-certified buildings every year than any other country, because of this necessity, but also because the government and business community see green technology as something China can make itself the best at, and use to gain prestige in the international community. Similarly, my host family is obsessed with turning out lights, not using the air conditioning, and not using hot water because energy and utilities are expensive, not because of environmental concerns (or at least they haven’t expressed any environmental concerns to me). Does it matter why they act this way? No, because the effect is the same. But is it enough, from an environmental perspective? Probably not. But we in the United States, with all of the energy and guilt we expend on worrying about the environment, don’t seem to be doing much better. My Chinese family’s carbon footprint is so much smaller than anyone I know in America, even the most environmentally conscious people. They don’t own a car and walk, bike, or take public transportation everywhere, don’t have heating in their home, don’t own a dryer, don’t fly often or at all, and are conscientious about their appliances and electricity. They don’t recycle, don’t have solar panels, don’t buy carbon credits, and don’t eat organic or local food—but does it matter?
I think that the environmental “balance” we need to seek now is a balance between American environmental angst and moral questioning and this Chinese practicality. One without the other is not enough; we Americans may love the trees, but we can’t seem to give up any parts of our lifestyle because we feel that we have no direct impetus to do so, other than our moral qualms. And as the Chinese become richer, they may abandon their current frugality, with disastrous results. Going to the museum gave me a glimpse the complexity of the Chinese way of thinking about the environment—just like the American way of thinking about the environment. We have our Manifest Destiny attitudes, our Romanticism, our rural co-existence, our urban indifference, the Hummer and the Prius. Looking at artists may not be the best way to come to any conclusions about a society and where it is headed, but they are a good example of what a culture is thinking, and how it processes change. I have so many other thoughts about Chinese history and how this all plays in (“Topics” with Ms. Wade…a year later, and it’s still so awesome); about Communism and Confucius and the Chinese tradition of seeing the natural wrapped up with the human, but this post is so long, and I obviously haven’t sorted any of this out in my head. I hope this post wasn’t too muddled (or long!). Let me know what you think.
Other goings-on, quickly…I saw my cousin/godmother Katharine Lister on Sunday! She was in town with Senator Maria Cantwell, her boss. We went into the city center and grabbed a snack; it was so great to see her! Saturday I went to the Shanghai Urban Exhibition Center, which is basically the city museum; it’s all about the Shanghai of the future and all the modern stuff they’re building (when I started fomenting all these thoughts). Monday we visited the Sunshine Home for children with cerebral palsy and other disabilities. I think I want to go back on my own, because these kids were so kind and welcoming, and clearly ecstatic to have visitors. There were so patient with us, as they helped us make strawberries out of beads (it’s super cool, but I felt pretty helpless/incompetent as they skillfully guided us through the process). It’s a little shocking, however, that these kids—many of whom seemed to have just physical disabilities with no mental problems at all—must live in a home; our teacher told us that the disabled are much less integrated into society in China than in America. Maybe a topic for another post?
Sending all my good wishes and love to you back in America! I really am having a great time, and I can’t wait to get into the swing of classes later this week.
Friday, September 4, 2009
SAT Scores, Titanic acrobatics, and scavenging...? Oh my?
This has been a very busy week, and we've done so much, that it's hard to think of a way to summarize or explain all that's happened without writing a bazillion-word post. I also don't have time for that, since my internet has been weak at best (the reason I haven't posted sooner), and I want to get something posted while the connection is working. I'll try to write as much as I can, focusing on the three interesting little moments highlighted in my title.
SAT Scores: Why, you may be wondering, would I ever mention something so awful, so over-and-done? Aren't SAT scores one of those things I should be very happy to have left on the other side of the Pacific? Well, on Monday, we met our tutors, Chinese university students who will be helping us one-on-one with our Chinese studies. My tutor seems very nice; she got her degree in teaching Chinese as a foreign language, but now is a graduate student studying folklore. That might have been case of Chinglish, but I'm pretty sure she's actually studying folklore. I must admit, when I heard folklore I automatically assumed it was a mis-translation, since my American vision of Chinese university students is that they're all engineers, scientists, or doctors in the making. My mistake. Example of cultural difference Number 1.
One of the first things she asked me was whether I was going to university; when I said yes, she said that I must have done well on the SATs. Then she asked me how well I had done. Example of cultural difference Number 2. I mention this little episode because I think it is a good example of what my experience of "cultural difference" (as awful a term as that is) has been so far: every Chinese person I have met has so kind, curious, and gracious (except for the ones who stare at us in the street...) that I haven't experienced the feelings of isolation, incompetence, and resentment that people say often come with cultural immersion (although there's still plenty of time, I guess). And we have had enough in common, other than language, that I haven't really thought about culture, except for little moments like this one that give a glimpse into our differences in experience and point of view. For the Chinese, scores determine whether you go to university at all, let alone which one you go to, and are all-important. My tutor's question was not rude or nosey...it was a perfectly natural question for her. And it was an interesting moment for me, to share something that we in America do place so much value in--often while pretending not to--in a casual and open manner.
Titanic Acrobatics: I don't think I can find any striking cultural insight through this anecdote; it's just funny. On Tuesday night, we went to an acrobatic show. I was pretty prepared for this show, as I'd been taken to an acrobatic show when I was in Beijing in 2002, and my family has been to similar shows on other trips. Most of the time, these shows strike a tentative balance between great entertainment and hopeless kitsch. This show was no different. Amazingly flexible and strong acrobats performed feats of balance and contortion, wearing silly costumes and accompanied by terrible music. And the show always ends with motorcycles roaring around a cage. However, this show did have something different: the Titanic act. A man and a woman, wearing flowing white outfits, used two bright blue ribbons to hoist themselves into the air, swing around, and do amazing stunts and moves. Sounds pretty cool, right? How does it sound when accompanied by Celine Dion crooning "My Heart Will Go On", while two giant screens show the scene from "The Titanic" when Jack and Rose are on the prow of the ship? And how does it sound when the finale is the woman being swung around by her partner from high up in the air, not from her arm or leg, but from a rope (a noose, really) tied around her neck? It's hard to describe here, but please be assured that it was the most amazing mixture of intense kitsch, breath-taking moves, and American pop culture.
Scavenging: My title may have been misleading. We didn't actually scavenge. We Scavenger Hunt-ed. And we won. This victory may seem unimportant to you, but to me and to my fearless teammates, it was a hard-won honor. And we get a free 1-hr full body massage. The scavenger hunt took all day (Thursday), and involved miles and miles and miles of walking. Other than the Walk for Hunger, I have never walked so much in my life. We covered most of downtown Shanghai, almost entirely by foot (we hopped the metro a couple of times). We went from Old Town (the only part of Shanhai, I think, where the buildings are still less than ten stories) to the Bund (what used to be the heart of the European part of Shanghai, by the river) to this random area where we were kind of lost and faced great adversity (it was a bad time for the team, but we got through it) to Nanjing Rd (Nanjing Rd is like the 5th Avenue of Shanghai...we spotted a Zara, Marc Jacobs, California Pizza Kitchen, a Western supermarket, and many other Western stores. It's extremely long) to Renmin Square (People's Square, home of the Shanghai Museum and other important sights). We were walking from 9 AM until 4 PM, with only brief breaks here and there.
Other goings on from this week, in short form:
- We visited the school where we'll be teaching English once a week to the children of migrant workers. There are two of us for a 50-student class. I'm a little scared about this. Me, with my scant Chinese, in charge of 25 fifth graders who don't really speak English...
- We went to the Oriental Pearl Tower. It's kind of the distinguishing marker of the Shanghai skyline...very tall, pointy, with three pink globules. We went up to the second of the three globules, and saw a great view of this very large and quickly expanding city.
- Other touristy activities included an open-air bus tour of Shanghai, a visit to a "water town" (a small town with historic buildings built along a system of canals) about an hour outside the city, and dinner at Wujiang Rd, Shanghai's "snack road".
- I joined a gym! It's huge and modern and has yoga classes!
That's about it. All is well here, and I'm adjusting nicely. I'm going to try to think of something insightful and intelligent to write about later this weekend, so I don't keep just giving a litany of activities. Stay tuned!
SAT Scores: Why, you may be wondering, would I ever mention something so awful, so over-and-done? Aren't SAT scores one of those things I should be very happy to have left on the other side of the Pacific? Well, on Monday, we met our tutors, Chinese university students who will be helping us one-on-one with our Chinese studies. My tutor seems very nice; she got her degree in teaching Chinese as a foreign language, but now is a graduate student studying folklore. That might have been case of Chinglish, but I'm pretty sure she's actually studying folklore. I must admit, when I heard folklore I automatically assumed it was a mis-translation, since my American vision of Chinese university students is that they're all engineers, scientists, or doctors in the making. My mistake. Example of cultural difference Number 1.
One of the first things she asked me was whether I was going to university; when I said yes, she said that I must have done well on the SATs. Then she asked me how well I had done. Example of cultural difference Number 2. I mention this little episode because I think it is a good example of what my experience of "cultural difference" (as awful a term as that is) has been so far: every Chinese person I have met has so kind, curious, and gracious (except for the ones who stare at us in the street...) that I haven't experienced the feelings of isolation, incompetence, and resentment that people say often come with cultural immersion (although there's still plenty of time, I guess). And we have had enough in common, other than language, that I haven't really thought about culture, except for little moments like this one that give a glimpse into our differences in experience and point of view. For the Chinese, scores determine whether you go to university at all, let alone which one you go to, and are all-important. My tutor's question was not rude or nosey...it was a perfectly natural question for her. And it was an interesting moment for me, to share something that we in America do place so much value in--often while pretending not to--in a casual and open manner.
Titanic Acrobatics: I don't think I can find any striking cultural insight through this anecdote; it's just funny. On Tuesday night, we went to an acrobatic show. I was pretty prepared for this show, as I'd been taken to an acrobatic show when I was in Beijing in 2002, and my family has been to similar shows on other trips. Most of the time, these shows strike a tentative balance between great entertainment and hopeless kitsch. This show was no different. Amazingly flexible and strong acrobats performed feats of balance and contortion, wearing silly costumes and accompanied by terrible music. And the show always ends with motorcycles roaring around a cage. However, this show did have something different: the Titanic act. A man and a woman, wearing flowing white outfits, used two bright blue ribbons to hoist themselves into the air, swing around, and do amazing stunts and moves. Sounds pretty cool, right? How does it sound when accompanied by Celine Dion crooning "My Heart Will Go On", while two giant screens show the scene from "The Titanic" when Jack and Rose are on the prow of the ship? And how does it sound when the finale is the woman being swung around by her partner from high up in the air, not from her arm or leg, but from a rope (a noose, really) tied around her neck? It's hard to describe here, but please be assured that it was the most amazing mixture of intense kitsch, breath-taking moves, and American pop culture.
Scavenging: My title may have been misleading. We didn't actually scavenge. We Scavenger Hunt-ed. And we won. This victory may seem unimportant to you, but to me and to my fearless teammates, it was a hard-won honor. And we get a free 1-hr full body massage. The scavenger hunt took all day (Thursday), and involved miles and miles and miles of walking. Other than the Walk for Hunger, I have never walked so much in my life. We covered most of downtown Shanghai, almost entirely by foot (we hopped the metro a couple of times). We went from Old Town (the only part of Shanhai, I think, where the buildings are still less than ten stories) to the Bund (what used to be the heart of the European part of Shanghai, by the river) to this random area where we were kind of lost and faced great adversity (it was a bad time for the team, but we got through it) to Nanjing Rd (Nanjing Rd is like the 5th Avenue of Shanghai...we spotted a Zara, Marc Jacobs, California Pizza Kitchen, a Western supermarket, and many other Western stores. It's extremely long) to Renmin Square (People's Square, home of the Shanghai Museum and other important sights). We were walking from 9 AM until 4 PM, with only brief breaks here and there.
Other goings on from this week, in short form:
- We visited the school where we'll be teaching English once a week to the children of migrant workers. There are two of us for a 50-student class. I'm a little scared about this. Me, with my scant Chinese, in charge of 25 fifth graders who don't really speak English...
- We went to the Oriental Pearl Tower. It's kind of the distinguishing marker of the Shanghai skyline...very tall, pointy, with three pink globules. We went up to the second of the three globules, and saw a great view of this very large and quickly expanding city.
- Other touristy activities included an open-air bus tour of Shanghai, a visit to a "water town" (a small town with historic buildings built along a system of canals) about an hour outside the city, and dinner at Wujiang Rd, Shanghai's "snack road".
- I joined a gym! It's huge and modern and has yoga classes!
That's about it. All is well here, and I'm adjusting nicely. I'm going to try to think of something insightful and intelligent to write about later this weekend, so I don't keep just giving a litany of activities. Stay tuned!
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