I'm in a class called Sexual Satisfaction, and we had to write a paper on a topic of our choice. I chose to write about the development of sexual fetishes. Here is it!
Sexual Fetishes As the Result of Childhood Experiences
Sexual fetishes have been observed across history, with records of French psychologist Alfred Binet (1857-1911) describing it in his writing. However, most of these old notes were not based on scientific research, but rather based on the clinical observations of patients by psychologists. Most research of sexual fetishism cited today comes from the 1990’s and later (with a few exceptions.) There were some notable case studies as well as actual studies conducted in the 1960’s that provided a solid base for later research. Today, while there is not a plethora of data regarding the development of sexual fetishes, there is certainly enough to draw some conclusions as to how a person can derive sexual satisfaction from an inanimate object. From the data presented, it is apparent that sexual fetishes are the result of usually positive sexual experiences occurring around puberty, and the new sensation of sexual arousal and pleasure that this fetishized object evokes a desire in the person for more, thereby creating a self-sustaining, vicious cycle.
Before attempting to understand how a fetish is developed, it is important to understand the scientific definition of fetish. A fetish is a form of paraphilia, meaning that it is a sexual desire focused at nonhuman objects. A sexual fetish is defined as “the use of a nonliving object as the exclusive or preferred method of achieving sexual gratification” (Köksal, Domjan, Kurt, Sertel, Örüng, and Bowers, 2003). Another definition offered by a different study is “a form of perversion in which sexual gratification is obtained from other than the genital parts of the body (Lowenstein, 2002).” Although not specifically mentioned, an important aspect of this definition is the difference between a sexual interest in a nonliving object, and a sexual interest in a body part other than the genitals or breasts. This is to say, sexual interests directed towards nonsexual body parts (feet, hands, knees) are not technically defined as a fetish, but rather as partialism (Kafka, 2009). For example, an amputee fetish would technically be considered partialism, not fetishism. Yet, because most people do not realize the difference between partialism and fetishism, for the purposes of this paper, partialism will be considered a type of fetish. However, it is important to understand both that there is a scientific difference, and what that difference is.
When looking at sexual fetishes, researchers have found that it is helpful to first look at fetishistic behavior in animals, because it is easy to control what an animal has been subjected to, and to specifically study how they develop a fetish (Köksal, 2003). In a study done on Japanese quails (Köksal, 2003) researchers sought to replicate and observe the ways in which a fetish is created and how individual differences in quails affected the development of fetishes, and then apply this knowledge to understand fetishes in humans. Results indicated that while many quails developed a sexual fetish, not every quail did, even though they were all subjected to the same methods to develop a fetish. This would suggest that individual differences in quails (and humans) play a part in the development of fetishes, and that given the right circumstances, anyone can develop a fetish at a young age. In addition to this, it was shown that in many cases, quails were more interested in copulating with the cloth rather than copulating with a female quail, indicating that the fetishistic object was of greater interest to the male quail than the female quail was. In managing to successfully recreate and study most aspects of a sexual fetish, this research using quails (but applied to human behavior) showed how a fetishistic behavior can originally manifest itself in humans, and the depth of dependence a fetishistic person can have on an object. Yet this research only begins to explain how people with different experiences develop sexual fetishes.
Fetishes have, historically, been thought to be the result of severe castration complex (Lowenstein, 2002), and it has only been fairly recently that researchers have attempted to understand their nature. Some researchers have argued that individuals with fetishes are “an unusual by-product of a normal adaptive process” and do not suffer from some horrible perversion (Munroe, Gauvain, 2001). It is argued that fetishistic people had the same experience of sexual arousal during childhood/puberty as non-fetishistic people, but while they were becoming aroused, a nonsexual object was present which ultimately became linked with their sexual arousal (Munroe, 2001). This link of an object to sexual arousal creates a dependence in the person to an object, which only gets stronger the longer the fetish exists.
Once these fetishes have begun, they operate on “self-maintenance, leading to a persistent response to an inanimate object (Köksal, 2003). In Köksal (2003), 58% of participants indicated that they had masturbated to fee or shoes at least 3-4 times a week for the past 12 months. This would suggest that for many fetishistic people, masturbation is frequently a method of sexual gratification. This continuous masturbation to a certain object serves to strengthen the mental connection a person makes with their sexual object. Indeed, once a person has this fetish, it is nearly impossible to get rid of (Munroe, 2004). Hence, a fetish once initiated becomes a part of a person’s life, and the dependence on an object for sexual arousal can become so severe as to render a person impotent without it (Lowenstein, 2002).
For many people, their particular sexual fetish has simply become a normal part of their life, and as such, it is hard for them to think of a specific instance or event that led to the fetish, in much the way that non-fetishistic people find it hard to remember the genesis of their normal traits. However, research indicated that the genesis of fetishes could be traced back to either one event or a series of events in a person’s childhood or adolescence (Munroe, 2004). In one study of homosexual men, all of who had foot and shoe fetishes, researchers looked specifically at what event triggered this fetish, who participated, and how old the participant was. 45% of participants indicated that “their fetish interest developed because of pleasurable events in childhood” while 46% said the same of events in adolescence (Weinberg, Williams, and Calhan, 1995). Participants’ answers also indicated that 12 years old was the average age when they first became sexually aroused by feet or shoes. Pleasurable events at these young ages included playing with their fathers’ feet, or tickling or massaging an older adults foot. Almost all participants indicated an event in their childhood that triggered the fetish, which supports the idea that the genesis of a fetish is in a person’s childhood.
In similar lit based study supporting the research, Munroe (2001) found that the sexual learning experience leading to fetishism normally happens around one of two different ages, either at 4 or 5, or at 8 or 9. The article goes on to describe how only one instance of sexual excitement with a nonsexual object is necessary to initiate a sexual fetish in a person. Once sexual arousal to an object has been reinforced via sexual satisfaction, the child may link the object to sexual arousal, and from then on think that the only way of obtaining sexual arousal/satisfaction is with the object. Yet, an important part of the development of a fetish is sexual reinforcement, most commonly in the form of masturbation (Köksal, 2003). Without this sexual reinforcement, the object will remain nonsexual and unlinked to sexual arousal, and the person will not develop a fetish
In one particular case study of, Dr. Walter Everaerd (1983) followed and described the history and current state of a man with an amputee fetish. In this case study, Everaerd listed his patients’ responses to open ended questions, revealing perfectly the genesis of his fetish, and the reasons behind his desire to cut off his own leg. When discussing what caused him to view amputees as an object of sexual arousal, the patient described a time when he was 10 years old, saying “I was jealous of the children who played in the street…even the boy who…had a wooden leg… so called unhappy boy…Never the less I considered him happier than myself…” (Everaerd, 1983). He then went on to say that the peg leg unconsciously became synonymous with happiness, as the peg leg boy was happier than he, a healthy boy, was. This seemingly un-noteworthy event shaped this mans’ sexual drives, and he linked the happiness in the amputee boy first to the boys’ amputated leg, and then the amputated leg to his own sexual satisfaction. It is small, un-noteworthy events like this that researchers argue create a fetish in an otherwise normally developed child.
It is clear from the data available today that sexual fetishes are the result of positive sexual experiences occurring around the age of puberty. Of course, while individual differences could lead people to develop fetishes as a reaction to different events, it is clear that most of the events people experience that lead them to develop fetishes are positive ones. A study of fetishism in animals showed that it is possible for anyone to develop a fetish, while lending proof and support to the scientific definition of fetishes. Studies before and since then have also lent evidence to the conclusion that fetishes are born out of the experiences in a persons’ childhood, and once they have developed, remain a big part of the person’s sex life for the rest of his or her life.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The Halloween Tales Part 2
Saturday dawned. My room mate, who is exceedingly loud in the morning, woke me up at 9, and the day started. I met my friend at the Grundle, which is the local name for one of the dining halls, and after a long breakfast, went back to her dorm to watch the last bit of Scooby Doo, and then all of The Nightmare Before Christmas. That movie, for some movie, really got me into the spirit of Halloween. Well, enough so that I felt like going out dancing that night would be the perfect remedy for all my problems.
After one episode of Heroes, I called it quits and went back to my dorm. There the Halloween preparations began. I looked through my wardrobe, literally holding everything up to everything else, racking my brain for a costume. But the creative juices just were not flowing. No matter the match up, there was literally nothing in my wardrobe that could be used for a Halloween. Never did I hate having to fly to college more than at that moment. Stupid airline limitations on how much you can carry with you on a plane. Didn't they ever consider the implications their restrictions might have on a college students Halloween plans? Clearly not.
After an hour of racking my brains, I did the only logical thing to do. I gave up. I stopped desperately asking my suitemates for advice, and I stopped sending frantic texts. I simply grabbed a jacket, slipped my feet into some shoes, and went back over to my friends dorm room to hang out as he washed his clothes. It turned into a three hour event, with one of my other friends, Rebecca, coming down to join us, and Dylan and I ordering bad Chinese food. (Honestly, how hard is it to get good Chinese food in America? Clearly impossible.)
Later that night, Rebecca invited me to a rave that she was going to. I'm not going to lie, I was tempted. I miss dancing, a lot. However, the thought of a rave, as I pondered it, did not really fit my idea of a good dance party. Not to mention, I didn't have a costume (although we all know that that is just an excuse). And remember, I am slightly awkward. The idea of a party, where I would have to interact with a bunch of people my age, slightly freaked me out. I do better in smaller groups. Baby steps Sophie, baby steps.
After watching my friends transform into Hollywood stars (A Clockwork Orange person, Britney Spears), computer game characters (someone from Mario) and various other people and things, I waved goodbye to the group going raving, and went back for a quiet night of relaxation. Instead of getting my rave on, I watched Ghostbusters, a Halloween classic.
Many would say that this was a boring night, that I should be embarrassed. I disagree. This is who I am. I am a homebody. I don't like partying, I don't like drinking. I don't know how to interact with people my age in large groups. Yes, this is a hinderance, but I figure, as I am in college for longer, I will get used to it. For now, I can safely say, I am a homebody, and proud of it.
Happy Halloween.
After one episode of Heroes, I called it quits and went back to my dorm. There the Halloween preparations began. I looked through my wardrobe, literally holding everything up to everything else, racking my brain for a costume. But the creative juices just were not flowing. No matter the match up, there was literally nothing in my wardrobe that could be used for a Halloween. Never did I hate having to fly to college more than at that moment. Stupid airline limitations on how much you can carry with you on a plane. Didn't they ever consider the implications their restrictions might have on a college students Halloween plans? Clearly not.
After an hour of racking my brains, I did the only logical thing to do. I gave up. I stopped desperately asking my suitemates for advice, and I stopped sending frantic texts. I simply grabbed a jacket, slipped my feet into some shoes, and went back over to my friends dorm room to hang out as he washed his clothes. It turned into a three hour event, with one of my other friends, Rebecca, coming down to join us, and Dylan and I ordering bad Chinese food. (Honestly, how hard is it to get good Chinese food in America? Clearly impossible.)
Later that night, Rebecca invited me to a rave that she was going to. I'm not going to lie, I was tempted. I miss dancing, a lot. However, the thought of a rave, as I pondered it, did not really fit my idea of a good dance party. Not to mention, I didn't have a costume (although we all know that that is just an excuse). And remember, I am slightly awkward. The idea of a party, where I would have to interact with a bunch of people my age, slightly freaked me out. I do better in smaller groups. Baby steps Sophie, baby steps.
After watching my friends transform into Hollywood stars (A Clockwork Orange person, Britney Spears), computer game characters (someone from Mario) and various other people and things, I waved goodbye to the group going raving, and went back for a quiet night of relaxation. Instead of getting my rave on, I watched Ghostbusters, a Halloween classic.
Many would say that this was a boring night, that I should be embarrassed. I disagree. This is who I am. I am a homebody. I don't like partying, I don't like drinking. I don't know how to interact with people my age in large groups. Yes, this is a hinderance, but I figure, as I am in college for longer, I will get used to it. For now, I can safely say, I am a homebody, and proud of it.
Happy Halloween.
The Halloween Tales Part 1
Halloween. For most college students, it is the first real excuse to get fucked up with a solid group of friends (if you have been there for a more than a year.) If you are sadly, like me, a freshman, it is still the first real excuse to get fucked up, but instead, you are with friends that you have had for a much shorter amount of time. For many people who are not socially awkward, this isn't a problem, and the massive amount of house parties, raves, and random parties happening across the country, in every city in the US provide ample destinations to party to your hearts content, and rack up an impressive repertoire of drunken stories to wow your friends with the next morning.
However, as most of you know, I am not a normal college student. I have never been drunk, I have never been high. Hell, I have never even smoked, and the last time that I took a shot (1 single shot of JD) my head was spinning for hours. Add on to that my life long loathing of Halloween, you can see how this weekend posed some serious problems for me. Ever since I was young, I have steadfastly boycotted Halloween, turning all the lights off and locking the doors to deter trick or treaters, and finding some large paper to write on Halloween to deter friends. However, I have found that as I get older, this is a harder and harder tradition to enforce. Particularly so now that I am at college.
As you should all know, Halloween was on a Saturday night this year. For us college students, this means two nights of hardcore partying, possibly even three if you don't have class on Friday, or don't care about class on Friday. Friday night, I was supposed to go to a fencing party, hosted at a house that is a 20 minute walk from my dorm room. That night, I had gone downtown with a friend to go to a used bookstore and grocery shopping. When we were downtown, it started pissing down with rain while I, clad in all cotton, watched with despair from the book store. My friend had been texting me all afternoon trying to get me to come to the party, and after hours of me telling her I didn't want to go, I finally got her to stop texting me. I didn't realize until I went grocery shopping, and received a phone call, that the reason she had stopped texting me was because she had called someone else, Marc (one of the coaches on the fencing team) to persuade me to go. Even though I had promised myself I wouldn't go to the party, I agreed to go anyway. Why you might ask? I have no idea.
I don't know why Halloween stresses me out so much. There is no logical reason for it. It is some combination of thinking of a costume, being judged on the costume, and then hanging out with lots of people that I just can't handle. Don't ask me me why. Not to mention, someone only has to mention the word "party" to get me nervous and tense. that would be due to my extreme lack of social experiences with people my age. What do I do with my arms? My legs? How should I dance? Where should I look? What should I drink? What do I do with my drink? What if I am the only one not drinking alcohol? Will they judge me? Of course, these are all silly questions, and when I am in control of my emotions, I know this. However, at the time, I absolutely was not in control of my emotions.
After agreeing to go to the party, I hung up the phone, and immediately freaked out. Why did I agree to go? I HATE HALLOWEEN AND DON'T WANT TO GO TO ANY PARTY! After a 20 minute bitch fest with my friend while walking back up to campus, I calmed down enough to realize that I just needed to tell him that I didn't want to go, and it would be okay. Phew. Crisis averted. I texted Marc, said very politely that I didn't want to go, but have fun. At the time, I was exceedingly happy with my decision. On hindsight, there was no good reason for me not to go and if I had gone, I probably would have had a good time. Ah well. Freshman year is a learning experience. Instead, I went to my friends dorm, and spent the better part of the night watching movies, and just chilling out.
However, as most of you know, I am not a normal college student. I have never been drunk, I have never been high. Hell, I have never even smoked, and the last time that I took a shot (1 single shot of JD) my head was spinning for hours. Add on to that my life long loathing of Halloween, you can see how this weekend posed some serious problems for me. Ever since I was young, I have steadfastly boycotted Halloween, turning all the lights off and locking the doors to deter trick or treaters, and finding some large paper to write on Halloween to deter friends. However, I have found that as I get older, this is a harder and harder tradition to enforce. Particularly so now that I am at college.
As you should all know, Halloween was on a Saturday night this year. For us college students, this means two nights of hardcore partying, possibly even three if you don't have class on Friday, or don't care about class on Friday. Friday night, I was supposed to go to a fencing party, hosted at a house that is a 20 minute walk from my dorm room. That night, I had gone downtown with a friend to go to a used bookstore and grocery shopping. When we were downtown, it started pissing down with rain while I, clad in all cotton, watched with despair from the book store. My friend had been texting me all afternoon trying to get me to come to the party, and after hours of me telling her I didn't want to go, I finally got her to stop texting me. I didn't realize until I went grocery shopping, and received a phone call, that the reason she had stopped texting me was because she had called someone else, Marc (one of the coaches on the fencing team) to persuade me to go. Even though I had promised myself I wouldn't go to the party, I agreed to go anyway. Why you might ask? I have no idea.
I don't know why Halloween stresses me out so much. There is no logical reason for it. It is some combination of thinking of a costume, being judged on the costume, and then hanging out with lots of people that I just can't handle. Don't ask me me why. Not to mention, someone only has to mention the word "party" to get me nervous and tense. that would be due to my extreme lack of social experiences with people my age. What do I do with my arms? My legs? How should I dance? Where should I look? What should I drink? What do I do with my drink? What if I am the only one not drinking alcohol? Will they judge me? Of course, these are all silly questions, and when I am in control of my emotions, I know this. However, at the time, I absolutely was not in control of my emotions.
After agreeing to go to the party, I hung up the phone, and immediately freaked out. Why did I agree to go? I HATE HALLOWEEN AND DON'T WANT TO GO TO ANY PARTY! After a 20 minute bitch fest with my friend while walking back up to campus, I calmed down enough to realize that I just needed to tell him that I didn't want to go, and it would be okay. Phew. Crisis averted. I texted Marc, said very politely that I didn't want to go, but have fun. At the time, I was exceedingly happy with my decision. On hindsight, there was no good reason for me not to go and if I had gone, I probably would have had a good time. Ah well. Freshman year is a learning experience. Instead, I went to my friends dorm, and spent the better part of the night watching movies, and just chilling out.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Update
So it's been a while since I posted anything. I know. But now, I am back in America, unfortunately. My China stories are done, except for maybe coming out in my reminiscing. Now, I am in Vermont, attending the University of Vermont, and trying desperately to adjust to my life here in college. It's crazy. Who knew that college would be like this? I sure didn't. But now, I have decided to start using this blog again. So, stay tuned!
Monday, June 1, 2009
The End of An Era
I'm going to start off this post properly. I'm not a writer. I'm not going to explain myself properly in this post, and I'm probably going to end up sounding like an emo little girl. But it's the only way I can express myself.
I'm back from Beijing, and in Davis. After the most intense 9 months of my life, I'm back. I think that they were the best. They were certainly the most memorable. I have never been more changed in 9 months than I have in Beijing. Both physically, and mentally. I grew up in Beijing, and entered adulthood (mentally if not legally, yet.) I have learned how to live, how to operate on my own. I understand more about the world, and how to take care of yourself in it. I learned about life, about people.
I left my friends and my family back home, back in Beijing. I may never see some people ever again. It's the strangest feeling to know that the people I have spent such a long time with, and connected with, I may never see again. That was my life for 9 months, and now it is over. How does something like that just end, with a click of a mouse, and a plane ride home?
It's surreal, almost. Like an out of body experience. Even if Davis hasn't been home for a couple of years, it is still the place where I have felt the most comfortable. It's been a waiting place for me, and in between, one where I simply have to deal until my next big adventure. It isn't home for me, but it's familiar. I look at all my things, and think, that is my bed, or... those are my books. But it doesn't feel like they are mine. This doesn't feel like my life. Neither my bed nor my books belong in the life I have created for myself over the past 9 months. I feel like I am living in a twin's life or something. But definitely not mine. I feel like I am just on a vacation, and I will be going back to Beijing, and 新街口外大街 in no time. I mean, this can't be my life now, can it?
Now that I am back from Beijing, Davis is still the same, except with one major difference. Now, it almost scares me. The familiarity of it, and normalness of all of it, terrifies me more then the unfamiliarity Beijing ever did. I'm not sure if terror is the right word, as I am not afraid to go out of the house or anything. I just don't know what to do with myself now. Don't know what to expect. I can no longer live the life that I have been used to for 9 months. Beijing felt more like home to me than any place I have ever been in. I don't know what to expect from Davis. I don't feel comfortable here, not anymore. It's more than just feeling out of place. It's more than reverse culture shock. Hell, it's more than just missing Beijing. I just keep asking myself, what am I doing here? Why am I wasting my time here?
I know that this all sounds very emo, and depressed. I'm not emo, and I'm not depressed. I am simply trying to figure out why I feel the way I do, why I can't seem to understand how to live in Davis again. I can't be the only one who feels this way. I love you all. :)
I'm back from Beijing, and in Davis. After the most intense 9 months of my life, I'm back. I think that they were the best. They were certainly the most memorable. I have never been more changed in 9 months than I have in Beijing. Both physically, and mentally. I grew up in Beijing, and entered adulthood (mentally if not legally, yet.) I have learned how to live, how to operate on my own. I understand more about the world, and how to take care of yourself in it. I learned about life, about people.
I left my friends and my family back home, back in Beijing. I may never see some people ever again. It's the strangest feeling to know that the people I have spent such a long time with, and connected with, I may never see again. That was my life for 9 months, and now it is over. How does something like that just end, with a click of a mouse, and a plane ride home?
It's surreal, almost. Like an out of body experience. Even if Davis hasn't been home for a couple of years, it is still the place where I have felt the most comfortable. It's been a waiting place for me, and in between, one where I simply have to deal until my next big adventure. It isn't home for me, but it's familiar. I look at all my things, and think, that is my bed, or... those are my books. But it doesn't feel like they are mine. This doesn't feel like my life. Neither my bed nor my books belong in the life I have created for myself over the past 9 months. I feel like I am living in a twin's life or something. But definitely not mine. I feel like I am just on a vacation, and I will be going back to Beijing, and 新街口外大街 in no time. I mean, this can't be my life now, can it?
Now that I am back from Beijing, Davis is still the same, except with one major difference. Now, it almost scares me. The familiarity of it, and normalness of all of it, terrifies me more then the unfamiliarity Beijing ever did. I'm not sure if terror is the right word, as I am not afraid to go out of the house or anything. I just don't know what to do with myself now. Don't know what to expect. I can no longer live the life that I have been used to for 9 months. Beijing felt more like home to me than any place I have ever been in. I don't know what to expect from Davis. I don't feel comfortable here, not anymore. It's more than just feeling out of place. It's more than reverse culture shock. Hell, it's more than just missing Beijing. I just keep asking myself, what am I doing here? Why am I wasting my time here?
I know that this all sounds very emo, and depressed. I'm not emo, and I'm not depressed. I am simply trying to figure out why I feel the way I do, why I can't seem to understand how to live in Davis again. I can't be the only one who feels this way. I love you all. :)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Falling In Love With My Work
This is basically a translation of the speech that I had to say, and this is an essay I wrote for English about something we learned on the last trip.
It was hot, a heavy, hot heat that comes more from humidity then from the actual temperature. I could feel it pushing on my lungs, and the sweat already running down my back, even though it had only been 20 minutes since we had stepped out of the house. The sparse shade from trees hanging over the small path we were walking on did little to relieve the sun, and I could feel that the temperature was only going to keep rising. My and Julia’s small host father bounded ahead of us on the path, buckets barely swinging on the end of a bamboo pole balanced across his shoulders, and acting like the heat and the hill was absolutely no trouble at all. At this particular moment, watching our dad lead the way, there were only 3 things that Julia and I knew for certain: 1) it was hot, and we had only one water bottle, 2) we were going to work in the fields with our host dad and 3) we had absolutely no idea where we were going, or what we were going to do.
We were in a Dai village in Guizhou, following our host dad out to do work with him in the fields. The night before this march into the wilderness, Mr. Bissell had made it clear that all the SYA students were to go out with their host families to work, much like the intellectuals did when they were banished to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution. However, when Julia and I had come out of our bedroom in the morning, and asked our family what we were doing for the day, they simply told us to go explore on our own, that we didn’t need to work. That point of view was quickly changed after a brisk conversation between my host dad and Zhang Laoshi.
We arrived at a small hut in the middle of the hills after an hour long walk. Our dad let the cow inside out of the hut and free to roam (cared for by another Chinese man), and picked up the 4 woven baskets we had carried to start loading them up with huge piles of wet, decaying feces and straw. Each one must have easily weighed 20 pounds, and he picked them up like he was carrying loaves of bread. With a smile and a laugh, he handed a pole laden with filled buckets to Julia, who dutifully hoisted them onto her shoulders with a grimace at the weight, while our dad went around the back of the shed to get his burden. With me documenting the whole trip on my camera, the three of us set off across small hills to dump massive amounts of manure into fields for fertilization.
After Julia had finished her ordeal, we went back, filled up the buckets again, and then it was my turn. The bamboo pole seemed to push unrelentlessly into my shoulders, and it was heavy and uncomfortable. I could imagine myself toppling sideways off the small path we had to follow (which was lined by rather unpleasant looking embankments.) I dumped my load of feces in a field, and then walked back to rest at the cow enclosure, as my dad was tired. He lay his scrawny body down on the ground, and almost fell asleep, complaining of being exhausted to death. I don’t know how he kept hauling huge buckets of cow manure up mountains. I could barely do it once.
After a 30 minutes break, we convinced my dad, with great effort, to start again. There was not a lot of spirit in his body or voice as, with a great sigh and complaint, he dragged himself around the corner of the enclosure, and started filling up the buckets again. It was plainly obvious he did not want to be there. Julia took another load, the same way we had both gone the first time (to the same field) and then it was my turn, for the last time. Julia offered to carry it again (maybe she is secretly a physic) but I insisted on doing it myself. I picked up the bamboo pole, and balancing it across both shoulders, felt it sit on the exact same spot as it had last time, putting more pressure onto my already sore shoulder muscles. I could already tell that I should have let Julia take the last load of cow manure.
This time, as we walked to the field, our dad led us a different way, along a path with small paddies on the left, and an irrigation ditch 10 feet blow to the right. As I watched my dad balance his pole on one shoulder elegantly, I thought that must be so much easier and more comfortable, and decided to try to imitate him. I was worried about balance, but it wasn’t a problem, and as it turned out, it is actually easier to balance the buckets on one shoulder then on two. So elated with my success, I turned to tell Julia how much better it was, excited to show off my new-found talents. This turned out to be a very bad idea. As I turned to talk to Julia, I kept walking. As I put one foot down, I seemed to lose track of the ground. Suddenly, it was no longer where my foot was, and I went down. Hard.
Both I and the cow manure fell down the embankment. I wasn’t worried about the cow manure that fell on either side of me, though. I was simply worried about not falling into the water that was at the end of the embankment. Desperately grabbing handfuls of reeds and hanging on for all I was worth, I slowed my fall, and eventually stopped myself, hanging upside down, 5 feet above the water. Julia and my dad, after assuring themselves that I was okay, (it wasn’t hard to convince them, as I was trying to stop laughing) soon joined me in laughter, and we all paused so we could catch our breaths. Then, without much ado, I heaved myself off of the embankment, much like a swimmer pulling themselves out of the pool.
I could feel my face blushing bright red as I brushed off pieces of debris that had attached themselves to my clothes while my host dad and Julia watched, with laughter in their eyes. Immediately, thinking only of my wounded pride, I made both Julia and my dad swear to not tell anyone. My dad, however, thinking he was very clever indeed, agreed to keep the secret, and then used the local dialect to tell every person we passed. So much for family loyalty.
This story, while seemingly well natured, taught me a very good lesson. Moral of the story: always watch where you are going, and always laugh off the embarrassing stuff. Everyone has embarrassing things that happen to them, and the best way to deal with them is to laugh. I have had this experience many times, but for once, I found myself actually wanting to tell the story. I feel like that experience of me falling down the embankment with two buckets of cow manure helped me let go of my pride, and simply enjoy my life.
It was hot, a heavy, hot heat that comes more from humidity then from the actual temperature. I could feel it pushing on my lungs, and the sweat already running down my back, even though it had only been 20 minutes since we had stepped out of the house. The sparse shade from trees hanging over the small path we were walking on did little to relieve the sun, and I could feel that the temperature was only going to keep rising. My and Julia’s small host father bounded ahead of us on the path, buckets barely swinging on the end of a bamboo pole balanced across his shoulders, and acting like the heat and the hill was absolutely no trouble at all. At this particular moment, watching our dad lead the way, there were only 3 things that Julia and I knew for certain: 1) it was hot, and we had only one water bottle, 2) we were going to work in the fields with our host dad and 3) we had absolutely no idea where we were going, or what we were going to do.
We were in a Dai village in Guizhou, following our host dad out to do work with him in the fields. The night before this march into the wilderness, Mr. Bissell had made it clear that all the SYA students were to go out with their host families to work, much like the intellectuals did when they were banished to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution. However, when Julia and I had come out of our bedroom in the morning, and asked our family what we were doing for the day, they simply told us to go explore on our own, that we didn’t need to work. That point of view was quickly changed after a brisk conversation between my host dad and Zhang Laoshi.
We arrived at a small hut in the middle of the hills after an hour long walk. Our dad let the cow inside out of the hut and free to roam (cared for by another Chinese man), and picked up the 4 woven baskets we had carried to start loading them up with huge piles of wet, decaying feces and straw. Each one must have easily weighed 20 pounds, and he picked them up like he was carrying loaves of bread. With a smile and a laugh, he handed a pole laden with filled buckets to Julia, who dutifully hoisted them onto her shoulders with a grimace at the weight, while our dad went around the back of the shed to get his burden. With me documenting the whole trip on my camera, the three of us set off across small hills to dump massive amounts of manure into fields for fertilization.
After Julia had finished her ordeal, we went back, filled up the buckets again, and then it was my turn. The bamboo pole seemed to push unrelentlessly into my shoulders, and it was heavy and uncomfortable. I could imagine myself toppling sideways off the small path we had to follow (which was lined by rather unpleasant looking embankments.) I dumped my load of feces in a field, and then walked back to rest at the cow enclosure, as my dad was tired. He lay his scrawny body down on the ground, and almost fell asleep, complaining of being exhausted to death. I don’t know how he kept hauling huge buckets of cow manure up mountains. I could barely do it once.
After a 30 minutes break, we convinced my dad, with great effort, to start again. There was not a lot of spirit in his body or voice as, with a great sigh and complaint, he dragged himself around the corner of the enclosure, and started filling up the buckets again. It was plainly obvious he did not want to be there. Julia took another load, the same way we had both gone the first time (to the same field) and then it was my turn, for the last time. Julia offered to carry it again (maybe she is secretly a physic) but I insisted on doing it myself. I picked up the bamboo pole, and balancing it across both shoulders, felt it sit on the exact same spot as it had last time, putting more pressure onto my already sore shoulder muscles. I could already tell that I should have let Julia take the last load of cow manure.
This time, as we walked to the field, our dad led us a different way, along a path with small paddies on the left, and an irrigation ditch 10 feet blow to the right. As I watched my dad balance his pole on one shoulder elegantly, I thought that must be so much easier and more comfortable, and decided to try to imitate him. I was worried about balance, but it wasn’t a problem, and as it turned out, it is actually easier to balance the buckets on one shoulder then on two. So elated with my success, I turned to tell Julia how much better it was, excited to show off my new-found talents. This turned out to be a very bad idea. As I turned to talk to Julia, I kept walking. As I put one foot down, I seemed to lose track of the ground. Suddenly, it was no longer where my foot was, and I went down. Hard.
Both I and the cow manure fell down the embankment. I wasn’t worried about the cow manure that fell on either side of me, though. I was simply worried about not falling into the water that was at the end of the embankment. Desperately grabbing handfuls of reeds and hanging on for all I was worth, I slowed my fall, and eventually stopped myself, hanging upside down, 5 feet above the water. Julia and my dad, after assuring themselves that I was okay, (it wasn’t hard to convince them, as I was trying to stop laughing) soon joined me in laughter, and we all paused so we could catch our breaths. Then, without much ado, I heaved myself off of the embankment, much like a swimmer pulling themselves out of the pool.
I could feel my face blushing bright red as I brushed off pieces of debris that had attached themselves to my clothes while my host dad and Julia watched, with laughter in their eyes. Immediately, thinking only of my wounded pride, I made both Julia and my dad swear to not tell anyone. My dad, however, thinking he was very clever indeed, agreed to keep the secret, and then used the local dialect to tell every person we passed. So much for family loyalty.
This story, while seemingly well natured, taught me a very good lesson. Moral of the story: always watch where you are going, and always laugh off the embarrassing stuff. Everyone has embarrassing things that happen to them, and the best way to deal with them is to laugh. I have had this experience many times, but for once, I found myself actually wanting to tell the story. I feel like that experience of me falling down the embankment with two buckets of cow manure helped me let go of my pride, and simply enjoy my life.
Speech Festival Speech
This was my speech for the speech festival, where we had to get up in front of 70 people and say a speech in Chinese, for 3 minutes.
大家好。我叫苏菲，我是丁班的学生。今天，我要告诉你们一个这次旅行的故事。在第一个小村子的时候，毕老师要我们体验一下农民的生活和他们一起做一样的工作。晚上的时候，我和王芸以为我们的爸爸会带我们两个去干活，但是第二天早上我们发现他不打算带我们出去。我们问他的时候，爸爸说“你们不用去干活，可以自己去玩儿。”但是，张老师和他谈过话以后，他很快改变他的主意，决定带我们去干活。
毕老师告诉我和王芸我们要去挑牛粪，我们以为他只是开玩笑。当我和王芸和我们的爸爸挑桶的时候，我们以为去采摘水果或采摘蔬菜。后来我们走了很长时间，差不多45分钟以后，我们到了一个小木棚。我们的爸爸让里面的牛出去。然后他开始把牛粪放到桶里，把那个桶挂在扁担上。王芸先挑竹桶，跟着我们的爸爸到一块田地.在那里，我们把粪倒在地里，然后回小木棚。我的爸爸再把牛粪放在桶里，我再挑一桶到那里。
挑了两次以后，我们的爸爸特别累，所以他说他得休息。半个小时以后，我们说服他继续工作。王芸先挑，然后我们回去。最后轮到我挑。我的爸爸把牛粪放在桶里，然后我们把桶挑到田地里。但是，这次我们走的路跟以前不一样，我们要去别的田地。那些桶特别重，所以我的肩膀很疼，我走路走得不太稳。我重新调整 肩上桶的时候，我转过头想和王芸说话。这是个不太好的想法，因为我一边走路一边说话。身体失去了平衡，我们的右边是一个水塘我从小路上摔了下去。还好我掉下去的时候，手抓住了芦苇虽然我没有掉进水塘，可我还是头下脚上地摔倒在路边。王芸和我的我的爸爸很紧张，他们以为我摔得很严重，但是他们看到我笑的时候，他们也大笑起来，然后一起把我拉回小路。
我很不好意思，所以我告诉我的爸爸和王芸这件事要保密，不能对别人讲。但是我们回小村子的时候，我爸爸用苗语告诉每一个人。虽然我听不懂他们在讲什么，可是看到他们看着我笑时，我就知道在小村子里，你不会有秘密。
这次旅行给我很留下很深的印象。我很喜欢这里朴实的农民，喜欢这个古朴的小村子。我喜欢中国！谢谢大家。
大家好。我叫苏菲，我是丁班的学生。今天，我要告诉你们一个这次旅行的故事。在第一个小村子的时候，毕老师要我们体验一下农民的生活和他们一起做一样的工作。晚上的时候，我和王芸以为我们的爸爸会带我们两个去干活，但是第二天早上我们发现他不打算带我们出去。我们问他的时候，爸爸说“你们不用去干活，可以自己去玩儿。”但是，张老师和他谈过话以后，他很快改变他的主意，决定带我们去干活。
毕老师告诉我和王芸我们要去挑牛粪，我们以为他只是开玩笑。当我和王芸和我们的爸爸挑桶的时候，我们以为去采摘水果或采摘蔬菜。后来我们走了很长时间，差不多45分钟以后，我们到了一个小木棚。我们的爸爸让里面的牛出去。然后他开始把牛粪放到桶里，把那个桶挂在扁担上。王芸先挑竹桶，跟着我们的爸爸到一块田地.在那里，我们把粪倒在地里，然后回小木棚。我的爸爸再把牛粪放在桶里，我再挑一桶到那里。
挑了两次以后，我们的爸爸特别累，所以他说他得休息。半个小时以后，我们说服他继续工作。王芸先挑，然后我们回去。最后轮到我挑。我的爸爸把牛粪放在桶里，然后我们把桶挑到田地里。但是，这次我们走的路跟以前不一样，我们要去别的田地。那些桶特别重，所以我的肩膀很疼，我走路走得不太稳。我重新调整 肩上桶的时候，我转过头想和王芸说话。这是个不太好的想法，因为我一边走路一边说话。身体失去了平衡，我们的右边是一个水塘我从小路上摔了下去。还好我掉下去的时候，手抓住了芦苇虽然我没有掉进水塘，可我还是头下脚上地摔倒在路边。王芸和我的我的爸爸很紧张，他们以为我摔得很严重，但是他们看到我笑的时候，他们也大笑起来，然后一起把我拉回小路。
我很不好意思，所以我告诉我的爸爸和王芸这件事要保密，不能对别人讲。但是我们回小村子的时候，我爸爸用苗语告诉每一个人。虽然我听不懂他们在讲什么，可是看到他们看着我笑时，我就知道在小村子里，你不会有秘密。
这次旅行给我很留下很深的印象。我很喜欢这里朴实的农民，喜欢这个古朴的小村子。我喜欢中国！谢谢大家。
Friday, April 10, 2009
Homework? No Thank you.
So, I have some catching up to do. This blog is actually going to be about 3 days ago, on Wednesday, because I was far too lazy to write about it after I got home. Please excuse me.
Normally, every Wednesday, school gets out at 12:15, and then I hang around with nothing to do until 2 for a music lesson, and the go home. However, I had no music lesson today (which my friend had to tell me, my teacher didn't even text me) and it was such a beautiful day, I wanted to go out and do something, just go out.
Normally, every Wednesday, school gets out at 12:15, and then I hang around with nothing to do until 2 for a music lesson, and the go home. However, I had no music lesson today (which my friend had to tell me, my teacher didn't even text me) and it was such a beautiful day, I wanted to go out and do something, just go out.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Random Thoughts from a Frazzled Mind
I can barely remember the last week. As a matter of fact, I don't want to. There were some nice parts, I'm not going to lie. I had a girls day/night out last weekend. My friends and I met up, and we went shopping, got our hair done, got our nails done, and then went out for a nice dinner. I, of course, put all the pictures up on facebook. :)
This week though, I have been hit with some of the worst home sickness I have ever had. I've never felt so lonely before. It's pretty shitty. I know logically that I will get over it, and it does come and go in waves, but still, I'm almost scared how bad I feel. At least I know why it is called homesickness.
I am going on a five day immersion, starting this afternoon. Meaning I have to take a language pledge, and I am going to be living in a school that is about an hour an a half north of Beijing, on the other side of the Great Wall. It should be fun. Talk to you all when I get back!
This week though, I have been hit with some of the worst home sickness I have ever had. I've never felt so lonely before. It's pretty shitty. I know logically that I will get over it, and it does come and go in waves, but still, I'm almost scared how bad I feel. At least I know why it is called homesickness.
I am going on a five day immersion, starting this afternoon. Meaning I have to take a language pledge, and I am going to be living in a school that is about an hour an a half north of Beijing, on the other side of the Great Wall. It should be fun. Talk to you all when I get back!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Read and Enjoy
This is an essay I wrote for history about my trip to Yunnan a month ago. We were supposed to pick a focus, and write a travel essay about it. I'm not going to post the sources, because there are way too many, but I do have them.
7:30 AM on a dark Monday morning. The sun is still rising, not even letting us, 51 American students in the middle of Jinghong, get a clear view of the Chinese high school we are about to attend. The cold of the morning touches every bit of my body not covered, and sets to work trying to freeze my still damp hair. Our teacher (马老师) calls out students names in groups of 4-9 and corresponding classroom number, points to the general direction our classroom is in, and sends us on our way, free into the madness of a Chinese high school. Once my group arrives in classroom 130, most of the 12th grade Chinese students are already there, studying for their next class. (Their classes start at 8 in the morning, and sometimes don’t end until 9:45 at night.) There is an awkward, pregnant pause as we enter, 9 foreign faces amongst 16 Chinese ones. There is only 10 minutes to scope out the “other side”: their clothes, their mannerisms, and their speech. It is awkward, watching everyone else, and what they are doing, and seeing who has the courage to make contact first: the Chinese in their matching blue, white and red uniforms, or us, 9 half asleep Americans. Then it is time to stand up, greet the Physics teacher, and begin the first class of the day in Jinghong #1 City High School.
We were in a 理科 (science oriented) class, as opposed to a 文科 (humanities/liberal arts oriented.) The science track takes Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Math, Chinese and English class, while the humanities class takes Chinese, English, Politics, History, Geography and Math (both tracks require Chinese, English and Math). As soon as students start their high school education, they have to pick which track (science or liberal arts) to study, but they do not necessarily have to follow that same track once in college. Generally, there are more boys in the sciences track, and more girls in the humanities and liberal arts track, and this is definitely true in Jinghong.
Jinghong #1 City High-School (or 景洪市一中 in Mandarin) is the 3rd best high school in Jinghong, a city in the extreme Southern corner of Yunnan, the province in China’s extreme Southwest corner (so overall, this is the “deep South”). Yunnan is a diverse place, with at least 25 out of 55 Chinese ethnic minorities living inside its borders . Yunnan’s total population is approximately 42.88 million , with an ethnic population of over 14.33 million (about 34%). Its temperate, tropical climate (described as 4 seasons of Spring) makes it the perfect place to grow tobacco, sugar cane, and tea, which are an important part of Yunnan’s economy. Indeed, it is in the county of Xishuangbanna (西双版纳)-in the southern most corner of Yunnan- that the famous Puer tea is grown, harvested, and sold wholesale.
Jinghong, known as the political, economic and cultural center of the Xishuangbanna prefecture, is the home to 10-13 ethnic minorities , and approximately 380,000 people . It borders the West bank of the Mekong River, just north of Myanmar and Laos. A very laid back place, Jinghong’s streets are lined with palm trees and plants, and it seems like every side walk in the whole city is under construction, by workers who are either taking a smoke break, or asleep by their wheel barrows. Down every street and alley way, there is a Thai man screaming at you to come look at his “real” jade bracelets, or someone inviting you into their shop to look at wood carvings of elephants and dragons.
While this is all new and strange for a foreigner living in China (especially one who lives in Beijing, Jinghong’s polar opposite) it is home (and therefore normal) for the school kids here, and they are quite unlike any other Chinese kids I have ever met (at least, the ones I have met in Beijing). Most of the high school kids we are with in Beijing are very school/study oriented, and have almost no time for anything else. Here in Jinghong, the opposite is true; this isn’t to say that kids in Jinghong don’t study or value school, but in Jinghong, they have a much more relaxed attitude about the Gaokao, which is the high school exit exam and College entrance exam. Most of them have accepted that they will not score high enough on the Gaokao to go to a really competitive school (such as Beida or Qinghua), so they use their time to enjoy their beautiful city.
The Gaokao (高考 in Chinese) is often likened to the SAT, but only because both tests are both required for college applications. That is about where the similarities end. As one journalist put it “ {The Gaokao is} China’s SAT, if the SAT lasted two days, covered everything you’d ever studied, and decided your future.” It’s an examination aimed at testing how much you can remember, and how well you test. When taking the Gaokao, every student is required to take a foreign language – normally English - (no speaking, just listening and writing), Chinese, and math. Students can then pick up to 3 other tests (at least one is required) to take, depending on what they feel strongest in. In China, every school kid begins to prepare for this test in the beginning of his or her high school career (although you could go as far as to say they start in junior high, as that is the basis for much of the information kids are tested on). Every school’s curriculum is aimed at preparing their students to take the Gaokao. Parents in the country side will send their children to better schools in a city for junior high and high school education, so that they will test better on the Gaokao.
罗优莎, or Rosa as she told me to call her, is one of these children. Her family is originally from a small Lahu ethnic minority village about 6 hours out of Jinghong, and her parents are still there (she has no siblings). She lives with her aunt (her dad’s older sister) an easy 2-kilometer walk from her school. Every day during the lunch break, she would walk home, eat lunch, take a nap, and then walk back to school to start class. A girl of about 5’7”, with a round face always ready with a smile, she was happy to talk to me, the foreigner who could barely manage tones in Chinese. She answered every one of my monotonous and boring questions as honestly as she could, especially the ones regarding the dreaded Gaokao (which students can only take once a year, adding to the already intense pressure.) When asked about her initial views of the Gaokao, she immediately said that it was fair and just. This was the exact opposite of the response I expected to get from her, as the Gaokao is extremely tough, and is biased towards certain students in special situations.
The Gaokao’s intensity has roots stretching far back into the past. Many scholars assert that the Gaokao is the modern version of the Chinese Civil Service Exam, which was in place for thousands of years (although it ended in 1905 just before the overthrow of the Qing dynasty.) The Civil Service Exam was a test that people had to pass to become a scholar or part of China’s gentry. It was based on Confucian teachings and values, requiring at least 10 years of study, and forced memorization of many Confucian classics, and long-winded poems (which would later have to be referenced in the test.) The score on the Civil Service Exam also determined what job in government a person would receive, as the test was a test of how well a person could govern. But it was not easy to do well on these exams. In fact, during the Tang Dynasty, the pass rate was only 2%. Candidates would be locked into an examination room with a bed, a desk, a chair, and the test, and not let out until they were done (which sometimes was not for 2 or 3 days.) This drove many of the candidates to death and insanity.
Although the Gaokao is obviously a big change from the Civil Service Exam, there are still many elements that were left over from the Civil Service Exam that the Gaokao still has. For example, the Gaokao is still a test based on memorization: the memorization of everything a student has learned since the beginning of high school (instead of Confucian classics.) Hence much of what is learned in high school is aimed at teaching students just for the test, not to prepare them for the real world. It is a major test at the end of the year, lasting for 3 days, all day long. Even the purpose is still the same: the score you get on the Gaokao determines what college you get into, just like how the score on the Civil Service Exam determined what sort of job a person would get in government.
Yet unlike the Civil Service Exam, many of the strategies implemented in trying to make the Gaokao unbiased in fact accomplish the exact opposite. For example, if the student taking it belongs to an ethnic minority (and they indicate that on the test) they automatically get 100 points added to their test (each test is graded out of 900 points ). This is in an effort to bridge the gap between minority and majority ethnic groups. But to Han people, who don’t get extra points, this is seen as unfair. There is also another, less advertised bias. If the student taking the Gaokao lives in Beijing (for example) and applies to Beijing University, then their required score to get into that university (one of the best in China) is far less (almost 100 points less) then it would be if a student from Yunnan, for example, applied to the same school. This is simply because that student from Beijing already lives in Beijing, and wants to go to college there. The flipside would also be true for a Yunnan and Beijing student applying to school in Yunnan (the student from Yunnan would be given preference –therefore a lower required score.)
I asked Rosa, my friend from Jinghong, why, considering all these things, she still thought the Gaokao was fair. The only answer I got from her was that in the end, it tested how well a student could test, and how much material that student could memorize (which she believed directly correlates to how smart a person is, and indeed is the main point of the Gaokao.)
Still confused, I turned to her classmate 刘茜 (Liu Qian), who quickly became my best friend. Liu Qian was a Dai ethnic minority student, living in Jinghong with her parents. Because her favorite class is math, she chose the science track in school, and excelled. Telling me that she wants to move to Chongqing and become a doctor, she’s nervous for the Gaokao, and anxious to get a good score. It didn’t help that she didn’t think she would do well, and was not ignorant of the fact that if she wanted to go to a good school, she would have to score much better then students receiving a better education than her (like students in Beijing, or Shanghai). She too believes that the Gaokao is a fair, and an impersonal judge of a person’s ability to succeed. She said she didn’t necessarily want to score high enough to go to school in Beijing, she just wanted to be able to go to her #1 school, which was in Chong Qing. They way she said it made it seem like this was her back up school, because she knew she couldn’t test well enough to get into a Beijing university.
As the day (and our trip) wound to an end in the tropical city of Jinghong, I realized just how much the Gaokao was a part of Chinese high schools students’ lives. Every night, when I went with my friends, they would always say that they could have fun, but later, they would be going home to study. Amidst the palm trees and jade shops was a struggle by students to further themselves in life, and to beat the system of tests that they are bound to. And as I walked out of the paved, palm tree lined way of the school, I couldn’t help but be thankful that the dreaded Gaokao would never be part of my life.
As a side note, I only got a B+ on this essay. 不好意思 I thought I did better then that. :(
7:30 AM on a dark Monday morning. The sun is still rising, not even letting us, 51 American students in the middle of Jinghong, get a clear view of the Chinese high school we are about to attend. The cold of the morning touches every bit of my body not covered, and sets to work trying to freeze my still damp hair. Our teacher (马老师) calls out students names in groups of 4-9 and corresponding classroom number, points to the general direction our classroom is in, and sends us on our way, free into the madness of a Chinese high school. Once my group arrives in classroom 130, most of the 12th grade Chinese students are already there, studying for their next class. (Their classes start at 8 in the morning, and sometimes don’t end until 9:45 at night.) There is an awkward, pregnant pause as we enter, 9 foreign faces amongst 16 Chinese ones. There is only 10 minutes to scope out the “other side”: their clothes, their mannerisms, and their speech. It is awkward, watching everyone else, and what they are doing, and seeing who has the courage to make contact first: the Chinese in their matching blue, white and red uniforms, or us, 9 half asleep Americans. Then it is time to stand up, greet the Physics teacher, and begin the first class of the day in Jinghong #1 City High School.
We were in a 理科 (science oriented) class, as opposed to a 文科 (humanities/liberal arts oriented.) The science track takes Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Math, Chinese and English class, while the humanities class takes Chinese, English, Politics, History, Geography and Math (both tracks require Chinese, English and Math). As soon as students start their high school education, they have to pick which track (science or liberal arts) to study, but they do not necessarily have to follow that same track once in college. Generally, there are more boys in the sciences track, and more girls in the humanities and liberal arts track, and this is definitely true in Jinghong.
Jinghong #1 City High-School (or 景洪市一中 in Mandarin) is the 3rd best high school in Jinghong, a city in the extreme Southern corner of Yunnan, the province in China’s extreme Southwest corner (so overall, this is the “deep South”). Yunnan is a diverse place, with at least 25 out of 55 Chinese ethnic minorities living inside its borders . Yunnan’s total population is approximately 42.88 million , with an ethnic population of over 14.33 million (about 34%). Its temperate, tropical climate (described as 4 seasons of Spring) makes it the perfect place to grow tobacco, sugar cane, and tea, which are an important part of Yunnan’s economy. Indeed, it is in the county of Xishuangbanna (西双版纳)-in the southern most corner of Yunnan- that the famous Puer tea is grown, harvested, and sold wholesale.
Jinghong, known as the political, economic and cultural center of the Xishuangbanna prefecture, is the home to 10-13 ethnic minorities , and approximately 380,000 people . It borders the West bank of the Mekong River, just north of Myanmar and Laos. A very laid back place, Jinghong’s streets are lined with palm trees and plants, and it seems like every side walk in the whole city is under construction, by workers who are either taking a smoke break, or asleep by their wheel barrows. Down every street and alley way, there is a Thai man screaming at you to come look at his “real” jade bracelets, or someone inviting you into their shop to look at wood carvings of elephants and dragons.
While this is all new and strange for a foreigner living in China (especially one who lives in Beijing, Jinghong’s polar opposite) it is home (and therefore normal) for the school kids here, and they are quite unlike any other Chinese kids I have ever met (at least, the ones I have met in Beijing). Most of the high school kids we are with in Beijing are very school/study oriented, and have almost no time for anything else. Here in Jinghong, the opposite is true; this isn’t to say that kids in Jinghong don’t study or value school, but in Jinghong, they have a much more relaxed attitude about the Gaokao, which is the high school exit exam and College entrance exam. Most of them have accepted that they will not score high enough on the Gaokao to go to a really competitive school (such as Beida or Qinghua), so they use their time to enjoy their beautiful city.
The Gaokao (高考 in Chinese) is often likened to the SAT, but only because both tests are both required for college applications. That is about where the similarities end. As one journalist put it “ {The Gaokao is} China’s SAT, if the SAT lasted two days, covered everything you’d ever studied, and decided your future.” It’s an examination aimed at testing how much you can remember, and how well you test. When taking the Gaokao, every student is required to take a foreign language – normally English - (no speaking, just listening and writing), Chinese, and math. Students can then pick up to 3 other tests (at least one is required) to take, depending on what they feel strongest in. In China, every school kid begins to prepare for this test in the beginning of his or her high school career (although you could go as far as to say they start in junior high, as that is the basis for much of the information kids are tested on). Every school’s curriculum is aimed at preparing their students to take the Gaokao. Parents in the country side will send their children to better schools in a city for junior high and high school education, so that they will test better on the Gaokao.
罗优莎, or Rosa as she told me to call her, is one of these children. Her family is originally from a small Lahu ethnic minority village about 6 hours out of Jinghong, and her parents are still there (she has no siblings). She lives with her aunt (her dad’s older sister) an easy 2-kilometer walk from her school. Every day during the lunch break, she would walk home, eat lunch, take a nap, and then walk back to school to start class. A girl of about 5’7”, with a round face always ready with a smile, she was happy to talk to me, the foreigner who could barely manage tones in Chinese. She answered every one of my monotonous and boring questions as honestly as she could, especially the ones regarding the dreaded Gaokao (which students can only take once a year, adding to the already intense pressure.) When asked about her initial views of the Gaokao, she immediately said that it was fair and just. This was the exact opposite of the response I expected to get from her, as the Gaokao is extremely tough, and is biased towards certain students in special situations.
The Gaokao’s intensity has roots stretching far back into the past. Many scholars assert that the Gaokao is the modern version of the Chinese Civil Service Exam, which was in place for thousands of years (although it ended in 1905 just before the overthrow of the Qing dynasty.) The Civil Service Exam was a test that people had to pass to become a scholar or part of China’s gentry. It was based on Confucian teachings and values, requiring at least 10 years of study, and forced memorization of many Confucian classics, and long-winded poems (which would later have to be referenced in the test.) The score on the Civil Service Exam also determined what job in government a person would receive, as the test was a test of how well a person could govern. But it was not easy to do well on these exams. In fact, during the Tang Dynasty, the pass rate was only 2%. Candidates would be locked into an examination room with a bed, a desk, a chair, and the test, and not let out until they were done (which sometimes was not for 2 or 3 days.) This drove many of the candidates to death and insanity.
Although the Gaokao is obviously a big change from the Civil Service Exam, there are still many elements that were left over from the Civil Service Exam that the Gaokao still has. For example, the Gaokao is still a test based on memorization: the memorization of everything a student has learned since the beginning of high school (instead of Confucian classics.) Hence much of what is learned in high school is aimed at teaching students just for the test, not to prepare them for the real world. It is a major test at the end of the year, lasting for 3 days, all day long. Even the purpose is still the same: the score you get on the Gaokao determines what college you get into, just like how the score on the Civil Service Exam determined what sort of job a person would get in government.
Yet unlike the Civil Service Exam, many of the strategies implemented in trying to make the Gaokao unbiased in fact accomplish the exact opposite. For example, if the student taking it belongs to an ethnic minority (and they indicate that on the test) they automatically get 100 points added to their test (each test is graded out of 900 points ). This is in an effort to bridge the gap between minority and majority ethnic groups. But to Han people, who don’t get extra points, this is seen as unfair. There is also another, less advertised bias. If the student taking the Gaokao lives in Beijing (for example) and applies to Beijing University, then their required score to get into that university (one of the best in China) is far less (almost 100 points less) then it would be if a student from Yunnan, for example, applied to the same school. This is simply because that student from Beijing already lives in Beijing, and wants to go to college there. The flipside would also be true for a Yunnan and Beijing student applying to school in Yunnan (the student from Yunnan would be given preference –therefore a lower required score.)
I asked Rosa, my friend from Jinghong, why, considering all these things, she still thought the Gaokao was fair. The only answer I got from her was that in the end, it tested how well a student could test, and how much material that student could memorize (which she believed directly correlates to how smart a person is, and indeed is the main point of the Gaokao.)
Still confused, I turned to her classmate 刘茜 (Liu Qian), who quickly became my best friend. Liu Qian was a Dai ethnic minority student, living in Jinghong with her parents. Because her favorite class is math, she chose the science track in school, and excelled. Telling me that she wants to move to Chongqing and become a doctor, she’s nervous for the Gaokao, and anxious to get a good score. It didn’t help that she didn’t think she would do well, and was not ignorant of the fact that if she wanted to go to a good school, she would have to score much better then students receiving a better education than her (like students in Beijing, or Shanghai). She too believes that the Gaokao is a fair, and an impersonal judge of a person’s ability to succeed. She said she didn’t necessarily want to score high enough to go to school in Beijing, she just wanted to be able to go to her #1 school, which was in Chong Qing. They way she said it made it seem like this was her back up school, because she knew she couldn’t test well enough to get into a Beijing university.
As the day (and our trip) wound to an end in the tropical city of Jinghong, I realized just how much the Gaokao was a part of Chinese high schools students’ lives. Every night, when I went with my friends, they would always say that they could have fun, but later, they would be going home to study. Amidst the palm trees and jade shops was a struggle by students to further themselves in life, and to beat the system of tests that they are bound to. And as I walked out of the paved, palm tree lined way of the school, I couldn’t help but be thankful that the dreaded Gaokao would never be part of my life.
As a side note, I only got a B+ on this essay. 不好意思 I thought I did better then that. :(
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Walk Till You Drop
Today started out not looking too bright. I had to go meet the rest of my class at the Military Museum (军事博物馆) as a class field trip because we are reading the Red Sorghum right now. That is, in case you haven't read it, an extremely gory book that follows the accounts of one boy through the War of Resistance against Japan. Some of the stuff you read in this book actually makes me nauseous.
We went to see the exhibit for the Wars against Japan, but, of course, it was closed. Considering the planning, I am actually not at all surprised. We all thought it was extremely ironic, and no one could help but laugh when we realized that it was closed. I stayed my obligated hour, and looked around at the impressive display of old Communist weapons and statues, before my stomach got the best of me, and I encouraged the rest of my group that we should leave to go find something to eat.
We decided to head in the direction of the Animal Market, which is an amazing market selling all kinds of animals. A friend of ours, Warren, had gone a couple days ago, claiming it was pretty cool, so Jamie, Julia, George, Stephanie and I decided that we should check it out for ourselves, just to make sure. We found it after a short walk from the subway station, and started looking around. From the road, it just looks like a short section of a couple of shops, but in actuality stretches through the equivalent of 2 city blocks of hutongs. It's incredible.
The whole front section sold puppies and kittens and some fish. We saw a fight over something (by the puppy section) but none of us dared to summon up the courage to ask what. So we just kept walking. There were tubs on the ground filled with fish and lots of turtles, and tiny cages containing kittens and rabbits. Sometimes we came across someone with 2 puppies sticking out of their shirt, or a kitten cradled in their arms, but more often then not, these animals were contained in their cages, frightened half to death. It was pretty sad to see.
There were all sorts of fish, every kind you can think of, and a turtle that was probably as big as my leg, and much hornier (and not in the sexual way.) We saw a couple tubs full of maggots, which was absolutely disgusting. There were albino frogs (at least, it looked that way to me) and rabbits everywhere. It really was amazing. The pictures I take don't do it justice. When we got to the end of the labyrinth of hutongs, there was a small place with a lot of snack places, but none of us wanted to eat there, as we feared 拉肚子 (or spicy stomach... interpret that as you will.)
We were all getting hungry, and I could feel the affects hitting me (I was getting irritable, blunt, edgy, and tired. All clear signs I needed to eat, NOW.) We found a small place to grab some noodles (the hole in the wall places always have the best noodles) and Julia went out to try to find a Bank of China, because she was out of money. George left soon to go to some boarding school thing, and Stephanie, Jamie and I finished our noodles not much longer.
We met up with Julia, and as we were deciding what to do, Stephanie and I left to go look at dvds (I am a total dvd junkie. It is a problem) and left Jamie and Julia to decide what to do. I bought "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (it was 73 cents) and as soon as Julia and Jamie found us, we decided to go back to school to grab a little more food, go to a bank, and possibly get our hair cut.
That turned out to be one of our worse ideas. I got a jian bing and then dragged Stephanie with me to yet another dvd store, while Jamie pulled out his guide book. The guy that owns the dvd store and I are fighting, though. He won't let me buy just one movie out of a set (like, just one harry potter instead of all of them.) It is a problem. I have given that guy so much money, he should be able to make an exception for me. (For example, I bought one movie for 7 kuai, and Stephanie walked out of their with lots of dvds, and 84 kuai lighter. See what I mean?)
When we met up with Julia and Jamie again, they still hadn't decided, so I made an executive decision, and we decided to go to the zoo. We met Annie on the bridge as we were walking to the bus stop, and as she had locked herself out of her house, she decided to come with us. The more the merrier.
The bus ride was long, and crowded, but we got there, and paid an exorbitant 60 kuai ($8.77) to get a ticket. We can get it reimbursed though. I was on a mission to see the Giant Pandas, and made a beeline for them. Annie, Stephanie and I actually ended up going off on our own and losing Jamie and Julia. Oops.
We wandered off, looking at Pandas, lions, tigers, monkeys, bears. It is a very big zoo, and we covered as much as we could, before we wandered into the aquarium, where Annie and I both realized our shared connection of deeply wanting to be marine biologists. The aquarium was amazing. We spent 2 hours walking around, looking at the huge tanks, some holding fish that were easily twice my size. We lost and found Stephanie a couple of times, and at 5, 2 hours after we had gotten there, made a quick pass by the dolphin tank before racing to try to find the hippos and rhinos. Unfortunately, they were just closing, so we will have to go back later. Damn.
We conveniently met up with Jamie and Julia not too long after this, and it was obvious that we were all exhausted, after walking all day, and no breaks. Annie and I secretly admitted that our feet were killing us, and indeed, I felt like cutting my legs off at the ankles. Jamie and Julia (who I may start referring to as JJ, as that is easier to type. Haven't decided yet) took off in one direction for an exit, and Annie, Stephanie and I went to a another one. As soon as we found where we were, we just decided to take a bus back, which may have been a silly idea. We were all so tired, and our feet hurt (although Annie got a seat, and then Stephanie sat on her lap) the bus was extremely crowded, and hot. I think I may have gotten way over heated and dehydrated by the end of the day, as my head was killing me.
I got home just in time for dinner with my dad and sister, and then took a shower and got in bed to watch Benjamin Button, which, while being an excellent movie, may have been one of the saddest I have ever seen. I have started talking to my family more during dinner, which is good. I can actually have a conversation with my dad now, and I think he likes that. I know I do. My sister speak more Chinese to me now, instead of Chinglish. I think she just does that now because it is a habit. She is so funny.
I am so tired right now, and my feet are still killing me, of course. Goodnight all!
We went to see the exhibit for the Wars against Japan, but, of course, it was closed. Considering the planning, I am actually not at all surprised. We all thought it was extremely ironic, and no one could help but laugh when we realized that it was closed. I stayed my obligated hour, and looked around at the impressive display of old Communist weapons and statues, before my stomach got the best of me, and I encouraged the rest of my group that we should leave to go find something to eat.
We decided to head in the direction of the Animal Market, which is an amazing market selling all kinds of animals. A friend of ours, Warren, had gone a couple days ago, claiming it was pretty cool, so Jamie, Julia, George, Stephanie and I decided that we should check it out for ourselves, just to make sure. We found it after a short walk from the subway station, and started looking around. From the road, it just looks like a short section of a couple of shops, but in actuality stretches through the equivalent of 2 city blocks of hutongs. It's incredible.
The whole front section sold puppies and kittens and some fish. We saw a fight over something (by the puppy section) but none of us dared to summon up the courage to ask what. So we just kept walking. There were tubs on the ground filled with fish and lots of turtles, and tiny cages containing kittens and rabbits. Sometimes we came across someone with 2 puppies sticking out of their shirt, or a kitten cradled in their arms, but more often then not, these animals were contained in their cages, frightened half to death. It was pretty sad to see.
There were all sorts of fish, every kind you can think of, and a turtle that was probably as big as my leg, and much hornier (and not in the sexual way.) We saw a couple tubs full of maggots, which was absolutely disgusting. There were albino frogs (at least, it looked that way to me) and rabbits everywhere. It really was amazing. The pictures I take don't do it justice. When we got to the end of the labyrinth of hutongs, there was a small place with a lot of snack places, but none of us wanted to eat there, as we feared 拉肚子 (or spicy stomach... interpret that as you will.)
We were all getting hungry, and I could feel the affects hitting me (I was getting irritable, blunt, edgy, and tired. All clear signs I needed to eat, NOW.) We found a small place to grab some noodles (the hole in the wall places always have the best noodles) and Julia went out to try to find a Bank of China, because she was out of money. George left soon to go to some boarding school thing, and Stephanie, Jamie and I finished our noodles not much longer.
We met up with Julia, and as we were deciding what to do, Stephanie and I left to go look at dvds (I am a total dvd junkie. It is a problem) and left Jamie and Julia to decide what to do. I bought "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (it was 73 cents) and as soon as Julia and Jamie found us, we decided to go back to school to grab a little more food, go to a bank, and possibly get our hair cut.
That turned out to be one of our worse ideas. I got a jian bing and then dragged Stephanie with me to yet another dvd store, while Jamie pulled out his guide book. The guy that owns the dvd store and I are fighting, though. He won't let me buy just one movie out of a set (like, just one harry potter instead of all of them.) It is a problem. I have given that guy so much money, he should be able to make an exception for me. (For example, I bought one movie for 7 kuai, and Stephanie walked out of their with lots of dvds, and 84 kuai lighter. See what I mean?)
When we met up with Julia and Jamie again, they still hadn't decided, so I made an executive decision, and we decided to go to the zoo. We met Annie on the bridge as we were walking to the bus stop, and as she had locked herself out of her house, she decided to come with us. The more the merrier.
The bus ride was long, and crowded, but we got there, and paid an exorbitant 60 kuai ($8.77) to get a ticket. We can get it reimbursed though. I was on a mission to see the Giant Pandas, and made a beeline for them. Annie, Stephanie and I actually ended up going off on our own and losing Jamie and Julia. Oops.
We wandered off, looking at Pandas, lions, tigers, monkeys, bears. It is a very big zoo, and we covered as much as we could, before we wandered into the aquarium, where Annie and I both realized our shared connection of deeply wanting to be marine biologists. The aquarium was amazing. We spent 2 hours walking around, looking at the huge tanks, some holding fish that were easily twice my size. We lost and found Stephanie a couple of times, and at 5, 2 hours after we had gotten there, made a quick pass by the dolphin tank before racing to try to find the hippos and rhinos. Unfortunately, they were just closing, so we will have to go back later. Damn.
We conveniently met up with Jamie and Julia not too long after this, and it was obvious that we were all exhausted, after walking all day, and no breaks. Annie and I secretly admitted that our feet were killing us, and indeed, I felt like cutting my legs off at the ankles. Jamie and Julia (who I may start referring to as JJ, as that is easier to type. Haven't decided yet) took off in one direction for an exit, and Annie, Stephanie and I went to a another one. As soon as we found where we were, we just decided to take a bus back, which may have been a silly idea. We were all so tired, and our feet hurt (although Annie got a seat, and then Stephanie sat on her lap) the bus was extremely crowded, and hot. I think I may have gotten way over heated and dehydrated by the end of the day, as my head was killing me.
I got home just in time for dinner with my dad and sister, and then took a shower and got in bed to watch Benjamin Button, which, while being an excellent movie, may have been one of the saddest I have ever seen. I have started talking to my family more during dinner, which is good. I can actually have a conversation with my dad now, and I think he likes that. I know I do. My sister speak more Chinese to me now, instead of Chinglish. I think she just does that now because it is a habit. She is so funny.
I am so tired right now, and my feet are still killing me, of course. Goodnight all!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Are You A Kung Fu Master?
Packing time. Our trip on Saturday is looming, and I still haven't packed. But you know how it is when you have to do something: you just keep putting it off, and off, and off. Today was kind of like that. Except at about 4, I found something better than watching Ocean's Eleven to distract me.
I talked to Chris, and we came up with the idea of going to see Chinese Martial Arts. After securing Julia and Elle to come with us, we checked ticket prices, and decided to meet at Taiping Jiaozi guanr (太平饺子馆儿) for dinner. It's just a small, almost hole in a wall restaurant close to school that a lot of people go to for meals. I met Chris there, and Julia and Elle were on their way (meaning they came half an hour later.)
We took a taxi to the theatre, because we only knew the name, not where it was. As it turns out, when we got there, the tickets we wanted were 380 RMB, not 300, but there was a 30% discount if you had your student ID. Me, Elle, and Chris had ours, so we got our tickets for cheaper. Julia didn't, but it didn't matter. The math hurt our heads, so we all just paid 300. It worked out, somehow.
After a quick trip to the convenience store next to the theatre (to buy drinks, cookies, and banana chips) we went inside to get our seats. It was a pretty impressive theatre, and jut about all the seats were good seats (but our were really good.)
I talked to Chris, and we came up with the idea of going to see Chinese Martial Arts. After securing Julia and Elle to come with us, we checked ticket prices, and decided to meet at Taiping Jiaozi guanr (太平饺子馆儿) for dinner. It's just a small, almost hole in a wall restaurant close to school that a lot of people go to for meals. I met Chris there, and Julia and Elle were on their way (meaning they came half an hour later.)
We took a taxi to the theatre, because we only knew the name, not where it was. As it turns out, when we got there, the tickets we wanted were 380 RMB, not 300, but there was a 30% discount if you had your student ID. Me, Elle, and Chris had ours, so we got our tickets for cheaper. Julia didn't, but it didn't matter. The math hurt our heads, so we all just paid 300. It worked out, somehow.
After a quick trip to the convenience store next to the theatre (to buy drinks, cookies, and banana chips) we went inside to get our seats. It was a pretty impressive theatre, and jut about all the seats were good seats (but our were really good.)
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
人山人海 (People Mountains People Seas)
Today is now the 2nd day of the Chinese New Year. It goes all week long, counting from 1 to 5, and for this whole time, fireworks and firecrackers continue to go off, but with decreasing intensity (which is a relief) as the city slowly runs out of things that go boom. There are still a few good, startling bangs every once in a while, when you think that a building is falling down or something, but they are just less and less frequent.
Today, Chris came over for lunch. My family is really funny when Chris comes over, because I am pretty sure that they just don't know what to do. They tell us to sit down in the living room, and eat, and then just leave. It's a little awkward. But lunch is always good, and the conversation is good.
After lunch, I was dying to get out of the house. I was going stir crazy. This week, there are these things going on called Temple Fairs. I don't know why they are called Temple, because they are in parks and temples. Basically, they are just huge fairs, which an amazing amount of people, with small little things to buy (food, drink, toys.) It's incredible. It only happens once a year, so I really wanted to go see it, because we don't have this kind of thing in America. Chris had already gone to one with his family, but my family doesn't go, and he didn't mind going again, so off we went.
We went to Ditan park, which was the closest Temple Fair to my house. Even when we first got out of the taxi, there were people everywhere. Getting across the bridge was a struggle to cut through the crowds. Everywhere you looked, there was just a sea of black heads: there were so many people you couldn't even see their bodies. We bought tickets, and as we walked closer to the actual fair, people got more and more dense. That term (the title) People Mountain People Sea (meaning a lot of people) is really the only way to describe it.
There were times when there were so many people around, it felt like I was in a mosh pit for a rock concert. The only way to get through it was to grab your friends hand, and just start pushing along with everyone else. Trying to get to a stall was crazy, because there were people everywhere. I pushed my way through, and bought a small New Years red Cow, and a purple lantern, which is rather pretty. Chris and I made our way to the carnival section of the Temple Fair, and he won me a snugglable panda named Pete. I named the cow Jenny.
The biggest draw of the Temple Fairs is the people. So after seeing that (and feeling it) for about 2 hours, we called it a day, and went off to our respective grandma's house, as it is still New Years. I can't even do this Temple Fair justice, but just wait until I show you pictures.
Today, Chris came over for lunch. My family is really funny when Chris comes over, because I am pretty sure that they just don't know what to do. They tell us to sit down in the living room, and eat, and then just leave. It's a little awkward. But lunch is always good, and the conversation is good.
After lunch, I was dying to get out of the house. I was going stir crazy. This week, there are these things going on called Temple Fairs. I don't know why they are called Temple, because they are in parks and temples. Basically, they are just huge fairs, which an amazing amount of people, with small little things to buy (food, drink, toys.) It's incredible. It only happens once a year, so I really wanted to go see it, because we don't have this kind of thing in America. Chris had already gone to one with his family, but my family doesn't go, and he didn't mind going again, so off we went.
We went to Ditan park, which was the closest Temple Fair to my house. Even when we first got out of the taxi, there were people everywhere. Getting across the bridge was a struggle to cut through the crowds. Everywhere you looked, there was just a sea of black heads: there were so many people you couldn't even see their bodies. We bought tickets, and as we walked closer to the actual fair, people got more and more dense. That term (the title) People Mountain People Sea (meaning a lot of people) is really the only way to describe it.
There were times when there were so many people around, it felt like I was in a mosh pit for a rock concert. The only way to get through it was to grab your friends hand, and just start pushing along with everyone else. Trying to get to a stall was crazy, because there were people everywhere. I pushed my way through, and bought a small New Years red Cow, and a purple lantern, which is rather pretty. Chris and I made our way to the carnival section of the Temple Fair, and he won me a snugglable panda named Pete. I named the cow Jenny.
The biggest draw of the Temple Fairs is the people. So after seeing that (and feeling it) for about 2 hours, we called it a day, and went off to our respective grandma's house, as it is still New Years. I can't even do this Temple Fair justice, but just wait until I show you pictures.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Fireworks, Fireworks, and More Fireworks
春节, or Chinese New Year. You can have any idea of this that you want, but unless you have actually experienced the New Year in China, then you don't have an idea of it. Aside from the Lantern Festival that happens later on next month, it is probably the biggest, most celebrated holiday. It would not be an underestimation to say that the whole city gets involved, and that at midnight, the whole city celebrates.
Today, it was family day, so to speak. We all had to stay up until 12, because it was New Years. Yesterday, we drove around and dropped off presents for all of the family members, and bought fireworks, and firecrackers, and lots of them. There are stalls everywhere around the city, bursting at the seams with fireworks. These things would never be allowed in America. It's funny, my sister demands that we all have to go buy fireworks, but she is scared of them. Sparklers it is.
My grandparents came over for dinner. New Years is a big family thing, and there are a bunch of tradtions that I am not used to. As it started to get darker, the fireworks started to increase, and the firecrackers got more intense. The huge bangs that shook the city set car alarms off, which only added to the chaos of noise that is Chinese New Years. I sat the window for at least a half an hour, just watching the fireworks (and listening to the firecrackers) that were being set off across the city. They were everywhere, as far as the ey could see. The only way to really describe it is that the city was celebrating.
I tried to stay up with my family, but they were just watching a New Years program on tv, and when you are tired, it is not the best idea to watch tv (that you can't understand) while on a very comfy couch. I kept going back to my room, until I finally just crashed on my bed and took a short nap. My mom and my sister woke up up at ten to twelve, and we went downstairs to watch the fireworks. I realized when I walked out of my room that I missed the making jiao zi thing, which everyone does. You are supposed to eat jiao zi (dumplings) at midnight, for good luck I think. I never actually got a straight answer.
Getting downstairs, when it was midnight, is something that I can't even describe properly. It was a frenzy, to see just how many fireworks could be set off in the shortest amount of time. The sky basically exploded. All over the road, fireworks were being set off, in a close proximity to each other. I am surprised that no one was killed from a firework going off in their face. Cars would weave in and out when the fireworks were done, only adding to the chaos.
Sometimes, you could have believed it was the middle of the day instead of the middle of the night, there were so many fireworks. The noise was incredible, as everything that could be lit was lit. People were standing around, watching and celebrating. There were fireworks bouncing off of buildings (doesn't seem like too smart of an idea to me) and at one point, fireworks that backfired all over the parking lot. One big flaming hunk fell on a bush and set it on fire, but people just ran over with blankets, beat it out, and kept setting fireworks like it wasn't a problem. Ambulances and fire trucks were circling around, waiting to pick up someone, or put a fire out. It was ridiculous.
The celebrations lasted at least an hour and a half, and easily hundreds of thousands of fireworks were set off. I didn't even know that many fireworks could be made, much less set off. My family and I went back upstairs at about 12:30 to watch fireworks from a better angle, and to eat jiao zi (饺子). In usual Chinese tradition, kept telling me to eat more and more until I was stuffed. I was wired, by this point, and stayed up until at least 2, watching fireworks and movies. My family went to bed, but after a celebration like that, how could I?
It really was amazing. I have never seen anything like it, and unless I keep coming back for Chinese New Year, I doubt I ever will. All the fireworks that had been set off just got left in the street for someone else to pick up, and walking through, it is staggering how many empty, massive boxes there were. This has not done this festival justice at all, but I gave it a go. Happy New Years, everyone!
Today, it was family day, so to speak. We all had to stay up until 12, because it was New Years. Yesterday, we drove around and dropped off presents for all of the family members, and bought fireworks, and firecrackers, and lots of them. There are stalls everywhere around the city, bursting at the seams with fireworks. These things would never be allowed in America. It's funny, my sister demands that we all have to go buy fireworks, but she is scared of them. Sparklers it is.
My grandparents came over for dinner. New Years is a big family thing, and there are a bunch of tradtions that I am not used to. As it started to get darker, the fireworks started to increase, and the firecrackers got more intense. The huge bangs that shook the city set car alarms off, which only added to the chaos of noise that is Chinese New Years. I sat the window for at least a half an hour, just watching the fireworks (and listening to the firecrackers) that were being set off across the city. They were everywhere, as far as the ey could see. The only way to really describe it is that the city was celebrating.
I tried to stay up with my family, but they were just watching a New Years program on tv, and when you are tired, it is not the best idea to watch tv (that you can't understand) while on a very comfy couch. I kept going back to my room, until I finally just crashed on my bed and took a short nap. My mom and my sister woke up up at ten to twelve, and we went downstairs to watch the fireworks. I realized when I walked out of my room that I missed the making jiao zi thing, which everyone does. You are supposed to eat jiao zi (dumplings) at midnight, for good luck I think. I never actually got a straight answer.
Getting downstairs, when it was midnight, is something that I can't even describe properly. It was a frenzy, to see just how many fireworks could be set off in the shortest amount of time. The sky basically exploded. All over the road, fireworks were being set off, in a close proximity to each other. I am surprised that no one was killed from a firework going off in their face. Cars would weave in and out when the fireworks were done, only adding to the chaos.
Sometimes, you could have believed it was the middle of the day instead of the middle of the night, there were so many fireworks. The noise was incredible, as everything that could be lit was lit. People were standing around, watching and celebrating. There were fireworks bouncing off of buildings (doesn't seem like too smart of an idea to me) and at one point, fireworks that backfired all over the parking lot. One big flaming hunk fell on a bush and set it on fire, but people just ran over with blankets, beat it out, and kept setting fireworks like it wasn't a problem. Ambulances and fire trucks were circling around, waiting to pick up someone, or put a fire out. It was ridiculous.
The celebrations lasted at least an hour and a half, and easily hundreds of thousands of fireworks were set off. I didn't even know that many fireworks could be made, much less set off. My family and I went back upstairs at about 12:30 to watch fireworks from a better angle, and to eat jiao zi (饺子). In usual Chinese tradition, kept telling me to eat more and more until I was stuffed. I was wired, by this point, and stayed up until at least 2, watching fireworks and movies. My family went to bed, but after a celebration like that, how could I?
It really was amazing. I have never seen anything like it, and unless I keep coming back for Chinese New Year, I doubt I ever will. All the fireworks that had been set off just got left in the street for someone else to pick up, and walking through, it is staggering how many empty, massive boxes there were. This has not done this festival justice at all, but I gave it a go. Happy New Years, everyone!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Below Zero Excursions
This blog probably won't be funny. I am more just writing it so I can remember the day. Just warning you before you invest a good 5 minutes of your life reading it. Don't want you to waste your time.
Today was a good day. Although for the most part it was below freezing, and I was ready to just curl up and die from the cold, I prevailed. As a little funny side note, because most people here at SYA are from the East coast, they are used to the cold, and are forever making fun of me and Jamie (the two Californians) for being so cold when we go outside. They think it is hysterical, but being cold is no joke. I can't help it if I start wearing 4 jackets, a hat, jeans, and am still cold. It's in my blood. I can't wait until it gets warm again.
Today, I didn't go out until after lunch, when I went out with Chris and Sterling. Originally, we were going to go to a place where Chris could get a backpack for our Yunnan trip, and then go to the Luxun museum to buy a couple of books for English class. We realized what time it was though, and just went to the Luxun museum first.
We didn't want to pay the entrance fee to get into the museum, so we just told the guards we just wanted to buy a couple books, and they let us go to the bookstore without paying. Once at the book store, we found Claire and Annie, some of our classmates. They had just bought the last copies of the books we needed for English, so Chris, Sterling and I waited while the lady who ran the book store went out and got some more for us, which was very kind of her. We told her a bunch of our classmates were going to be coming, and then left.
Walking back out to the main road, Chris and I decided that we should go backpack hunting, and Sterling wanted to come along. However, every free taxi that we saw simply waved us away, and wouldn't stop, even though they could stop. It was frustrating. I was freezing cold, and didn't want to move. When we did finally get into a nice warm taxi, and started to defrost, I could have kissed the taxi driver for stopping.
We had to go to a couple of store for backpacks, because Chris's sister had given him the names of a couple of good places. We went to a cheaper (but still real) Northface store first (for Chris.) He almost bought a bag, but decided he should probably check the other stores first. We went to another place, where I found a bag, but because I can't make decisions at all, I couldn't decide whether it was too big or not (55 liters.) This led to me getting so frustrated that I basically just gave up, and we left. But this second place also led Chris to the conclusion that he should have gotten the first bag. Ah well.
We decided to meet our friend Annie at a Xinjiang restaurant for dinner. She said she knew a good one close to her house (which was close to school) so Sterling, Chris and I got back in a taxi, and attempted to get to her house. It was a bit rocky, but we met up with her. It was still cold (I was also wearing an insane amount of layers, so everyone was laughing at me) and we walked quickly to the restaurant.
Walking into this restaurant is one of the awkwardest things I have done in my life. It was a little hole in the wall place, just for the locals. I was in front of a pack of 4 foreigners, and as soon as we walked in, every stopped what they were doing and just stared at us. I almost turned around and walked out, because I felt like I was intruding or something.
We sat down though, and ordered. It was really good food. Lamb Kabobs, noodles and vegetable dishes were good, anyway. And pretty cheap, which is an excellent, excellent bonus. Outside of the restaurant (when we were done) they were selling raisins (a big bag for 10 kuai, which is about a dollar and a half), so all of us except Chris bought a bag. They were basically frozen from the cold, but that only made them taste better.
On the way back to Chris's house (and the bus stop for me) we stopped in probably 5 outdoors stores, looking for backpacks again. It was fun, and a nice way to get out of the cold. I hate being cold, more than anything in the world. Even more than scary movies. At least those end. So overall, a very good night.
Today was a good day. Although for the most part it was below freezing, and I was ready to just curl up and die from the cold, I prevailed. As a little funny side note, because most people here at SYA are from the East coast, they are used to the cold, and are forever making fun of me and Jamie (the two Californians) for being so cold when we go outside. They think it is hysterical, but being cold is no joke. I can't help it if I start wearing 4 jackets, a hat, jeans, and am still cold. It's in my blood. I can't wait until it gets warm again.
Today, I didn't go out until after lunch, when I went out with Chris and Sterling. Originally, we were going to go to a place where Chris could get a backpack for our Yunnan trip, and then go to the Luxun museum to buy a couple of books for English class. We realized what time it was though, and just went to the Luxun museum first.
We didn't want to pay the entrance fee to get into the museum, so we just told the guards we just wanted to buy a couple books, and they let us go to the bookstore without paying. Once at the book store, we found Claire and Annie, some of our classmates. They had just bought the last copies of the books we needed for English, so Chris, Sterling and I waited while the lady who ran the book store went out and got some more for us, which was very kind of her. We told her a bunch of our classmates were going to be coming, and then left.
Walking back out to the main road, Chris and I decided that we should go backpack hunting, and Sterling wanted to come along. However, every free taxi that we saw simply waved us away, and wouldn't stop, even though they could stop. It was frustrating. I was freezing cold, and didn't want to move. When we did finally get into a nice warm taxi, and started to defrost, I could have kissed the taxi driver for stopping.
We had to go to a couple of store for backpacks, because Chris's sister had given him the names of a couple of good places. We went to a cheaper (but still real) Northface store first (for Chris.) He almost bought a bag, but decided he should probably check the other stores first. We went to another place, where I found a bag, but because I can't make decisions at all, I couldn't decide whether it was too big or not (55 liters.) This led to me getting so frustrated that I basically just gave up, and we left. But this second place also led Chris to the conclusion that he should have gotten the first bag. Ah well.
We decided to meet our friend Annie at a Xinjiang restaurant for dinner. She said she knew a good one close to her house (which was close to school) so Sterling, Chris and I got back in a taxi, and attempted to get to her house. It was a bit rocky, but we met up with her. It was still cold (I was also wearing an insane amount of layers, so everyone was laughing at me) and we walked quickly to the restaurant.
Walking into this restaurant is one of the awkwardest things I have done in my life. It was a little hole in the wall place, just for the locals. I was in front of a pack of 4 foreigners, and as soon as we walked in, every stopped what they were doing and just stared at us. I almost turned around and walked out, because I felt like I was intruding or something.
We sat down though, and ordered. It was really good food. Lamb Kabobs, noodles and vegetable dishes were good, anyway. And pretty cheap, which is an excellent, excellent bonus. Outside of the restaurant (when we were done) they were selling raisins (a big bag for 10 kuai, which is about a dollar and a half), so all of us except Chris bought a bag. They were basically frozen from the cold, but that only made them taste better.
On the way back to Chris's house (and the bus stop for me) we stopped in probably 5 outdoors stores, looking for backpacks again. It was fun, and a nice way to get out of the cold. I hate being cold, more than anything in the world. Even more than scary movies. At least those end. So overall, a very good night.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
"Are You Two Dating?"
I've decided to do things a bit differently from now on. No one wants to hear about how I wake up at 5:35 every morning and drag myself through freezing conditions to school. I will admit, that gets old after a while. Instead, I am going to write about my day, the interesting bits anyway. When I have them. I may be living in China, but there are not always stories I can tell that will be funny to others. So, here goes nothing. Cross your fingers!
We have a new Chinese teacher now. She has been at SYA for a while, but at every semester, the classes change. This year, Classes 7, 6, and 5 switched a lot (as in the students change classes), so the teachers for those classes didn't switch. However, only one student in my class moved up, and one student moved into my class, so we got a new teacher, so we could be exposed to new teaching methods. Which is good I guess. We had a really good teacher last semester, so it is hard to have anything else. I am working really hard with the new teacher though, which is nice. I like working hard, while complaining about it. It's just something all teenagers do.
We had Chinese tables (中文桌子）which means we all have to go to the cafeteria, sit with a teacher, and speak Chinese for all of lunch. I was originally sitting with Chris, and trying to get a teacher and one more person to sit with us. Ding Lao Shi (one of Chris's teachers) sat down with us, and started talking. Not more than 2 minutes into the conversation, she looks at us and goes "I have a question, can I ask it?" to us, but in Chinese. We told her of course, and she, all timid like, goes "Are you two dating?" We both burst out laughing, and neither of us could answer. She kept up with these questions, wanting to know, trying to get information, until we finally told her. All the teachers are surprisingly intune with who is dating who, and they think it is an absolute riot. I swear, they are more like kids than us teenagers are.
During lunch, there was another funny story. My favorite new word has become "bugger", which everyone here thinks is hysterical, and they make fun of me all the time. So today, I am at the lunch line, getting my food, and for some reason, something happened that caused me to say bugger. Both Zhang Lao Shi, and Li Lao Shi (male Li Lao Shi) were across the table from me. Li Lao Shi can speak English, and he looked at me and goes "Bugger" like he is trying to sound it out. And then he said "You always say this. What does it mean?" except in Chinese. I told him it was like a nice form of damn. Then that started a conversation on how I speak with an Australian accent instead of American (or Australian word usage, basically would be translation. Word habit? Something like that.) It didn't occur to me until later that I should probably not be teaching my teachers the word bugger. Hm. Oops.
Mr. Bissell has started showing us pictures of the places we are going to visit on our upcoming trip to Yunnan, whetting our appetite, so to speak. It looks like it is going to be amazing. Tough, physically, but amazing. We will be doing a lot of walking, through terraced rice fields and such, which look beautiful. I am so excited. I just want to skip the next couple of school weeks and just get to the vacation. Who wants to do Calculus when you have this fantastic vacation looming ahead?
We have a new Chinese teacher now. She has been at SYA for a while, but at every semester, the classes change. This year, Classes 7, 6, and 5 switched a lot (as in the students change classes), so the teachers for those classes didn't switch. However, only one student in my class moved up, and one student moved into my class, so we got a new teacher, so we could be exposed to new teaching methods. Which is good I guess. We had a really good teacher last semester, so it is hard to have anything else. I am working really hard with the new teacher though, which is nice. I like working hard, while complaining about it. It's just something all teenagers do.
We had Chinese tables (中文桌子）which means we all have to go to the cafeteria, sit with a teacher, and speak Chinese for all of lunch. I was originally sitting with Chris, and trying to get a teacher and one more person to sit with us. Ding Lao Shi (one of Chris's teachers) sat down with us, and started talking. Not more than 2 minutes into the conversation, she looks at us and goes "I have a question, can I ask it?" to us, but in Chinese. We told her of course, and she, all timid like, goes "Are you two dating?" We both burst out laughing, and neither of us could answer. She kept up with these questions, wanting to know, trying to get information, until we finally told her. All the teachers are surprisingly intune with who is dating who, and they think it is an absolute riot. I swear, they are more like kids than us teenagers are.
During lunch, there was another funny story. My favorite new word has become "bugger", which everyone here thinks is hysterical, and they make fun of me all the time. So today, I am at the lunch line, getting my food, and for some reason, something happened that caused me to say bugger. Both Zhang Lao Shi, and Li Lao Shi (male Li Lao Shi) were across the table from me. Li Lao Shi can speak English, and he looked at me and goes "Bugger" like he is trying to sound it out. And then he said "You always say this. What does it mean?" except in Chinese. I told him it was like a nice form of damn. Then that started a conversation on how I speak with an Australian accent instead of American (or Australian word usage, basically would be translation. Word habit? Something like that.) It didn't occur to me until later that I should probably not be teaching my teachers the word bugger. Hm. Oops.
Mr. Bissell has started showing us pictures of the places we are going to visit on our upcoming trip to Yunnan, whetting our appetite, so to speak. It looks like it is going to be amazing. Tough, physically, but amazing. We will be doing a lot of walking, through terraced rice fields and such, which look beautiful. I am so excited. I just want to skip the next couple of school weeks and just get to the vacation. Who wants to do Calculus when you have this fantastic vacation looming ahead?
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