Kunming: Week 3

And another week without a computer. This situation is sliding quickly from irritation to sheer farce. Apparently, they tried to deliver the package on Friday at 5:30 when the package center was closed. So as far as I know, the computer is floating around Kunming somewhere, in the hands of someone loosely affiliated with FedEx, and nobody who speaks English seems to be quite clear on what happens next. For me, this is insane just because, after all, it's not like we shipped my computer with Mr. Chen's Chinatown Package Company, we shipped it with FedEx, but once it crosses the border, nobody seems to know what's going on. Oh well, it's in God's hands now - perhaps literally, for all I know.

I wish I had fantastic adventures to tell you about, but unlike some study abroad programs where you drink your way across Europe, I actually have to work here. In fact, the weeks here can sometimes turn into nightmarish cycles of undercaffinated class (I've already switched from green to black tea, and may have to switch to french press coffee pretty soon) to homework to bed, and again. Class is not bad, when I'm not in a tired daze. I don't like drills or dictation much (does anyone?), but I really enjoy conversing in Mandarin, which I can do at a decently high level now, although my tones are often terrible, and my written Chinese is much better by far. My English classes are pretty good, because the kids on the program are pretty smart. I'm still definitely not feeling this field research paper. I may do a project on the Hui (Ethnic Chinese muslims), though I'm kinda nervous about going to a mosque here. I don't really have much time even to get out and about around the city here, which is kind of a bummer, I basically keep a tight circuit around the school since I don't have all that much time. But back home, it's not much different - except when Karl facilitates the occasional John Donut run, I eat/sleep/work/sleep. I miss good parties however.

The highlight of my week this week was definitely a trip to the local elementary school. Our Chinese professor knew somebody who knew an elementary school teacher, so we were allowed in the school. I assumed that the process would be somewhat more formal, considering we were entering an elementary school, but we basically just walked in. A fun reminder that the Han Chinese may be the most racist people on the planet: my white classmate George walked into the school no problem, but when my black classmate Nick walked in, he was immediately stopped by security. Nice.

I'd like to tell you that Chinese elementary schools are full of portraits of Mao or shaolin monks or something exciting, but actually, they are creepily familiar to this product of the NYC public school system: big, overcrowded, institutional structures, with bars on the windows and barbed wire fences (yes, my middle school had a barbed wire fence). They have English slogans pasted up on the walls, some of them ironically, sadly ungrammatical or misspelled. Many of the kids also wear the red scarves of the Communist Youth League, which is kind of unnerving.

The kids themselves are great, as are little kids anywhere in the world. I was basically shadily hustled into a classroom and told to talk to a couple of kids. So I asked, what did you do today, and they said, nothing, we were here all day. Yes, I said, but you were in class, what do you do in class? Oh, they said, we sit at our desks and raise our hands. Ahh, kids. They have an hour and a half of homework every day and a ranking system, and some of them commute in, although nobody's commute is as long as mine was to Hunter. One girl played the flute, another played a traditional Chinese instrument known as the Guqin. One girl wanted to be a fashion designer (she also wanted to go to France, to see Paris), another wanted to be a teacher, and another (who apparently spoke the best english in the class)wanted to be an ambassador (to which I replied, you already are). I also asked her why she studied English, and she said, because it's the world's language.

After a while, a crowd of girls started bombarding me with questions. Apparently, it was all girls because they all thought I was handsome (I kid you not...hey, there's no accounting for good taste). They asked how many people were in my family, so I said, my sister, my mom, my dad, and oh, my dog. A little girl responded mournfully with that international complaint of little kids, I want a dog but my mom won't let me have one. I said, well, dogs are very troublesome. No, the little girl said with authority, dogs are not troublesome, they are cute. I asked her what kind of dog she wanted, and she responded, a German Shepherd puppy, because they have soft fur. They also asked if I had any Disney things, what my favorite color is (well, whatever color is suitable, I responded. Black, for example, if black works. Oh, they said, because black is very cool), and whether everybody in America had very white skin (I replied, some people have whiter skin than me, and well, some...and I pointed to Nick). One girl was particularly fascinated with the American college experience and expressed a desire to attend an American college. Probably my favorite question I recieved: Does America have mosquitos? Are the mosquitos big? Apparently, the girl had seen a thing on TV about how America has huge mosquitos. After our brief interview, me and my classmates went to get our first Chinese pizza, which was both overpriced and exceedingly average.

I'm still all about the language partner. It's really a fascinating interaction, because she seems determined to serve as a representative for China. For example, she said that her teacher had told her that in China, unlike in the West, people feel that everyone who helps you in your life shares in your success, and so your victories are the family and the society's victories. I asked her if she agreed, and she said yes. I asked her if she felt that way about herself, and only then did she back away from it, saying, yes, it's partially true, but also I help make my own successes. I wonder, however, if I am just projecting my own particular ideas about the Chinese consciousness on her; maybe what I see as a Chinese tendency to accept cultural generalizations handed down from above is just someone with relatively few opinions sharing a general view, or someone trying to represent her culture, or someone who frankly believes in these things. We also discussed an incident in my textbook, where a little girl helped a little boy with his homework in class in exchange for money. She saw absolutely nothing wrong with it, and thought it was quite normal, and I struggled to explain to her (and hell, myself) why it wasn't appropriate. I asked her her views on the Hui, to which she responded, what views? My view is that they don't eat pork. Alright then.

Last night, I went over to my professor's for her birthday to make and eat dumplings. I really like the close relationship we have with the professors here, and I took a particular joy in Nick playing an extremely uncensored version of "Get Low" off of my IPod and watching the Chinese professors bob along to the beat. I can also eat so much, goddamn. I think it will be weird to adjust to the lack of safety protocol we have in America: the ability to just drink a glass of water, and to eat a piece of fruit without worrying. I came back to the dorms and was introduced to my new roommate, a Japanese student, 31 years old, learning Chinese to improve his business as an accountant. It's kind of a great situation in that I cannot speak Japanese and he speaks little English, so we have to use Chinese. My Chinese is better than his, I think, but in any case, we often have have many moments of repeating. It's not bad though, he seems like a really nice guy.

Today, we headed off to the gorgeous Xishan area, some forty five minutes outside the city, a Taoist holy site with breathtaking views of the city. I'm pretty spoiled now, at least since Taishan, but I think Xishan is ,marvelous by any standard, with astounding vistas overlooking the lake and the city and lovely karst geology and pine groves. I'll probably make my parents go, when they visit. After a lousy lunch, we went to Dian Chi, Kunming's central lake, and met with an entrepreneur who is trying to clean the disasterously polluted lake. The lake is filled with sewage, busted through with nitrates and phospherous, and strangled with algae, really bad. This guy filters the water through a special filter, and lets lotuses and special plants do the rest. It's astoundingly green for anywhere, not to mention China, and with government subsidies, he makes a profit of about a nickel per square meter of water, which is not much but is something.

I love the parts of this blog where I express general opinions about the state of the country: it's so 19th century foreign correspondent dispatch. But as far as the environmental situation here goes, I think if anyone can solve it, it's China. The central government understands it's a huge problem, and has dedicated giant sums of money to it. The citizenry is also used to living in what we think of as a "green" lifestyle (lights that only turn on with motion sensors, no drying machines, no dishwashers, low flow toilets, public transportation and biking, eat locally, etc.), just because most of the population cannot afford to live in any other way. The real threat is, of course, corruption and heavy industry. The Northeast, China's industrial heartland, is a damn coal-stained nightmare, and government money has a way of disappearing along the way to its intended goal. Also, what's scary about China is the possibility of a Malthusian crisis, that population pressures will just make any sort of equilibrium with nature unimaginable. For example, the best way to clean Dian Chi would be to restore the marshes that Mao drained and destroy the Cultural Revolution era dams that allowed local residents to reclaim around 200 kilometers of land; but if you were to do that, you would basically flood a couple thousand residents, and not rich people either, common folk who are pouring into Kunming for the hope of a better life. But I hope that China can figure it out...if they can't, in any case, it's bad news for all of us.

On that somber note, I bid you farewell, and promise to check in at least next week, and with photos as soon as I am able.