China Finals

I am long overdue for a blog post.

Not only is the semester winding down, but I am closing the book on my time as an English teacher in China. The former offers plenty of fodder for laughter and frustration, but the latter has not yet provoked reflections that I could put clearly into words. That may not come until, as Papa Z. says, I am sitting on a windy Himalayan peak.

Fingers are crossed that our Tibet travel permits are approved. There have been new restrictions about group sizes, countries of origin, and modes of entry into the area. I've heard about a few friends being denied. Not to mention that foreigners are getting really bad press in China at the moment.

Hopefully cooler heads will prevail, and hopefully I will be in Tibet 6/8-6/20.

Yellow Mtn.

And while I know I will gain perspective on my experiences and time in China over the coming weeks (and months and years), I can definitely say that I have learned at least two things about myself over the past two years:

1) The more I learn about China, the less I understand; and
2) my greatest pet peeves are crowds and when eating mouths are unnecessarily noisy.

These pet peeves were on display during a recent weekend to Yellow Mountain. Heralded as one of the better tourist attractions in China, Yellow Mountain has unique rock formations and colorful cliff faces. As with all famous tourist attractions and popular mountains in China, Yellow Mountain was annoyingly crowded. After summiting, my friends and I had to wait in line just to see each vista on the peak circuit. While in line, I gave some stink-eyes to a couple of guys eating cake and shrink-wrapped tofu. Their mouths snapped and slurped so much, my personal space felt invaded. Also, food was falling all over this guy's mouth and clinging to his sweaty face to form a handlebar mustache made of cake. Eventually, I couldn't suppress the shivers running down my back; the pain and exhaustion after climbing miles of stairs, the claustrophobia-inducing line, and these guys' mouths pushed me too far: "你嘴很吵."

Spring's Quarterly Report

Spring time on campus

At eight weeks into the term and with just eight weeks left in the academic year, I feel it is time to purge myself of some thoughts and anecdotes related to my teaching experiences.

***

General Class Management:

I am now showing one video out of this ongoing series to each class each week. They love it. I am amazed at how Jessica has corralled her manic personality traits into flawless Chinese mannerisms. Her affect is dead-on though, somehow, more than a little offputting.

Also, I recently discovered that her Chinese name (白姐, baijie, "white sister") is also the title of a popular Chinese pornography novel.

Thanks to DNyks for bringing this series to my attention. Thank you to my students for being well-read on Chinese pornography. (In China, porn is called "yellow" material; perverts, "黄.")

***

As class began one brisk day in March, I found myself lassoing one student's attention: "Sousa, can you please put your nunchuks away?"

One week later, I walked into the same class while Michael Jackson's "Beat It" was playing. My students started clapping [mostly] to the rhythm and shouting: "Dance! Dance! Dance!"

Confertzel: The Pesach Edition

Being as Pesach (Passover) is a celebration of freedom (beyond the metaphorical appreciation of The Exodus) in all forms, I have been thinking a lot about what "freedom" means to the average Chinese person. My reflections have coincided with some interesting China-related current events: Mike Daisey taking "freedoms" with his reporting on the Foxconn factories that supposedly oppressed workers; Bo XiLai's ousting over, in one way or another, acting too freely with his power; and the recent and brief shut-down of China's version of Twitter because of false rumors about a coup in Beijing. (That last link also has a good discussion about what foreigners can expect career-wise in China.)

So thin...Eat! Eat!

When I ask my students about "freedom," many say they believe they are as free as anyone should be--that they are free to do and say as they like. This is an obvious delusion or a "Polly-want-a-cracker" trained response--interpretations will vary based on cynicism and views of an Orwellian China. But my students seem to be vaguely aware of their limits because of the way they blanch whenever the following topics arise: politics, religion, and criticism of the Chinese government.

Despite what people say about the inherent power of Chinese democracy, this is still a country essentially run by ten chairmen. They govern based on the infantilizing policy that they know what is best for the Chinese people. Average citizens have little sway over the voice of these chairmen. These chairmen will oust a popular Party member if he (or she) doesn't tow the line enough; and these chairmen will sever Internet communication over even preposterous rumors.

My students go even further, though, to accuse The U.S. of being a falsely free country. My students cite: economic disparity, the death penalty, gang activity, and the drinking age. Some of these examples encourage debate, but I find their ability to observe lacking freedom elsewhere versus domestically (in China) a curious contradiction.

With those thoughts in mind, I am thankful to be in a position to take advantage of the freedoms of being a modern Jewish American living in China.

***

The "Confertzel Cookbook" should serve as documentation of one Jew-in-China's attempts to make "soul food" using what is available at local Chinese wet markets and corner stores. I intend to keep the recipes fairly low budget and to use methods that most people in China (or with limited resources and kitchen facilities) could accommodate. If I offend anyone with how heinously I drift from traditional recipes, let me apologize preemptively. Specifically, I apologize to my Jewish grandmother.

Perma-Culture Shock

Eggplant!

This past weekend, I enjoyed a quick jaunt to 西安 (Xi'an). Unbeknownst to me, the Xi'anites (Xi'anians?) have a self-satisfying motto that appropriately summarizes my own first-hand exposure to Chinese history: "If you want to study 100 years of Chinese civilization, go to 深圳 (Shenzhen). If you want to study 1,000 years of civilization, go to 北京 (Beijing). But if you want to study 5,000 years of civilization, go to 西安."

As the motto would indicate, 西安 is a city filled with relics and preserved buildings from various dynasties. 西安 was one of the Four Great Ancient Capitals of China, and China has done a surprisingly outstanding job of preserving and restoring the city's value. (China is infamous for destroying historical districts and old buildings for the sake of development.)

Thai/Tie Pun II: El(i)es and Wats' Wat

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This is the fourth and final entry of journal "highlights"--here is the first entry, the second entry, and the third entry (which was the first half of my time in Thailand). These are excerpts from what I wrote while I was in or around Chiang Mai and Cambodia. Hereafter, I promise my blog's contents will shift from personal journal regurgitation.

Eyes of the ele

***

01/28

I slept terribly last night; I woke repeatedly to mosquitoes biting my face. At least they weren't bed bugs.

Our cubby in our train car sleeps four passengers. Coincidentally, I bump into a fellow alum from my childhood summer camp--he sleeps two-cubbies-down.

01/29

"Good morneen," the car manager calls as she walks the aisle. "Brekfest fifteen minoots."

I slide open my lower berth's curtains. The air-con reasserts its unforgettable presence without the poor shield that was the curtain; I've been freezing for the nearly nine hours of Benadryl-clouded sleep. At some point in the night, I wake to put on my flannel; the cotton blanket does not match the pillow in comfort-level. 

While eating my rice soup with chicken, I join our cubby's roommates (a body-odor-plagued French couple) in watching the hills covered in tropical forest--not quite rainforest. We rumble past a pineapple orchard, and I wonder if I'm not stationary while everything crashes past.

Thai/Tie Pun.

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This is the second entry of journal "highlights"--here is the first entry and the second entry. These are excerpts from what I wrote while I was in Thailand's south and Bangkok. More soon, friends and family!

Thai style

***
 
01/17
 
I watch the sunset beyond the backside of the wings. Because of visa restrictions and unexpected inquiries at the ticket desk in Hawaii, I'm not even sure that I can enter Thailand without an onward ticket--I just have the plan to walk across the border to Cambodia.

After reading last year's journal entries, I begin a line of questioning about my direction and my context. I come to a conclusion that I do not feel lost, but I am certainly not feeling as engaged in my daily life as I would like to be.

Confertzel Cookbook: Mocchitashen

So thin...Eat! Eat!

The "Confertzel Cookbook" should serve as documentation of one Jew-in-China's attempts to make "soul food" using what is available at local Chinese wet markets and corner stores. I intend to keep the recipes fairly low budget and to use methods that most people in China (or with limited resources and kitchen facilities) could accommodate. If I offend anyone with how heinously I drift from traditional recipes, let me apologize preemptively. Specifically, I apologize to my Jewish grandmother.

***

Firstly, I want to wish a Happy Purim to friends and family: I hope you had a festive if not inebriated holiday. חג שמח. In my stead, I hope everyone consumed at least half of an apricot hamentaschen and half of a poppy seed hamentaschen. I usually only eat about two bites of each variety before I remember that I only enjoy four-bites-worth of hamentaschen per annum.

For those unfamiliar with the traditional Purim treat, hamentaschen (or, oznei haman) are representative of the Purim story's villain's ears. Carbohydrate-packed, doughy, apricot-filled ears.

And yet I digress (II)...

Instead of bringing me an apple, one of my freshman students brought me a bag with other edible plants--I would have said vegetables, but I am not sure that seaweed is technically a vegetable. She asked me how to say each one. They were, in order of inquiry:

1) Seaweed
2) Spinach
3) Cauliflower

This student actually asked (about the cauliflower), "This is a muffin, yes?" I then explained the difference between a head of cauliflower and a muffin. Somehow, though, my words were not enough of an explanation. I then used my creative talents to help elucidate the differences between a cauliflower and a muffin. Mostly, the explanation involved the key detail of what happens in an oven.

I suppose a cauliflower could go in the oven...

Practice Mahalo

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This is the second entry of journal "highlights"--here is the first entry. These are excerpts from what I wrote while I was in Hawaii. More soon, friends and family!

Waving

01/06

I woke up about 24-hours-ago, but not a minute has moved on the clock. As the airport P.A. says, "Mahalo for your cooperation," I indulge a hot cup of $2 Starbucks and an invigorating second chance on the day. I'm excited to be surrounded by diversity and English; adrenaline and caffeine will need to power me through the remaining twelve-to-fourteen hours of the day. I took a two-hour nap on the plane, but I couldn't sleep more (despite hitting international coach jackpot with an empty row).

There are no knock-off "Beats by Dre" headphones.

Women bare skin while reading a newspaper on an outdoor bench in a garden in the middle of the airport.

Golf clubs spill onto the baggage claim belt.

*

The first drive after six months was refreshing: the azure gleam of the ocean, humpback whales spouting, sheer cliff-faces, coves, slow speed limits, and lowered windows.

Fish tacos.

Clouds billow into the West Maui crater as if they were volcano plume billowing out. Palm fronds whisper softly in the breeze.

As my eyelids start to feel heavy at just 2 pm, I check into the condo my family has rented for the week. A cleaner is there, so I leave for a quiet cup of iced coffee.

So many board shorts.

***

Getting Out of China (Shanghai, Beijing, Hangzhou)

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This first entry of journal "highlights" will be brief; these are excerpts from what I wrote between my last day of school (12/22) and my first day in Hawaii (01/06). More soon, friends and family!

Cold Wall

Confertzel Cookbook: 渴舌发日你试渴

So thin...Eat! Eat!

The "Confertzel Cookbook" should serve as documentation of one Jew-in-China's attempts to make "soul food" using what is available at local Chinese wet markets and corner stores. I intend to keep the recipes fairly low budget and to use methods that most people in China (or with limited resources and kitchen facilities) could accommodate. If I offend anyone with how heinously I drift from traditional recipes, let me apologize preemptively. Specifically, I apologize to my Jewish grandmother.

*** 

Kasha varnishkas has always been one of my favorite side dishes in the Jewish cookbook. Generally speaking, the noodle-and-buckwheat-groat-based dish is savory in flavor and comforting in nature. Not to mention, the dish takes advantage of my [possibly genetic] love affair with cooked onions. All traditional versions of kasha varnishkas will implement a heavy dose of shmaltz (chicken fat)--and when it comes to Jewish comfort food: the more shmaltz, the better.

This is a good dish for the Confertzel Cookbook because of kasha varnishkas's simplicity. The preparation is simple, and it demands several compromises to accommodate resource availability in the Chinese market. The compromises open the door to be filled with Chinese flavors.

Winter Movement(s)

黄晶晶 (Huang Jingjing): "Elie, you are American. Yes?"
阿里 (Ali, me): "Yes."
黄晶晶: "Maybe next term you can teach an American Literature course."
阿里: "That would be fantastic!"

*2 weeks later*

黄晶晶: "Maybe it is better if one of our teachers teaches the American Literature course and you teach English Literature instead."
阿里: "Define 'better'..."

***

Confertzel: Identity in the Face of Tragedy

Confertzel

This entry could certainly use more research and reflection, but I feel a slight pressure to post it within a few days (or weeks) of Nanjing marking the anniversary of The Nanjing Massacre--also called The Rape of Nanking.

During The Nanjing Massacre (1937), Japanese troops laid waste to the city while committing atrocities like attempted genocide on innocent civilians and raping uncounted numbers of women. China claims that over 300,000 Nanjingers were murdered, while the United States tends to officially estimate the total somewhere between 100,000 and 200,000.

Understandably, the repercussions from these crimes can be felt today. Nanjing marks the memorial every December 13th by sounding a siren for one minute during the day, when much of the city pauses for reflective silence.

This all echoed of how Jewish people memorialize those who died in the Holocaust. Holocaust remembrance days are held throughout the year, and many congregations will dedicate a segment of Yom Kippur to honoring deceased love ones as well as the victims of the Holocaust. Other Jews light a  yahrzeit candle to "remember" and honor those who died in the Holocaust. In Israel, much of the country will acknowledge a two-minute-long siren on Holocaust Remembrance Day with a moment of silence.

What I find most interesting about the Chinese and Jewish memorials are how "national" identities shifted in response to tragedies. (I am referring to a "nation" as a body of people instead of a "nation" with borders.)

Finals and English Contest

This past week gave me the opportunity to conduct my first final exams from the teacher's perch. I must say that they were significantly more enjoyable for me than for the students, though the students appeared to be having fun between nervous giggles and voice quivers. Some students suffered from what I have come to call "Verbal Lawn-mowing": "I can--I can--I can--I can--I can..." But most were confident if not perspicacious. I also judged an English contest at Hu Jin Tao's high school. This was quite the formal affair that yielded significant financial reward for minimal work. Both experiences provided me with quite a few laughs at and with students. For better and worse, I saw just how much pressure students experience with regards to results-based activities. So, herein are the highlights to end my first semester as a university teacher--a highly enjoyable semester that I will summarize better in an a later post.

Confertzel Cookbook: 拉题卡

So thin...Eat! Eat!

The "Confertzel Cookbook" should serve as documentation of one Jew-in-China's attempts to make "soul food" using what is available at local Chinese wet markets and corner stores. I intend to keep the recipes fairly low budget and to use methods that most people in China (or with limited resources and kitchen facilities) could accommodate. If I offend anyone with how heinously I drift from traditional recipes, let me apologize preemptively. Specifically, I apologize to my Jewish grandmother.

*** 

"Same Dream China"

In the "Same Dream China" series of posts, I will reflect on recent dreams that I think provide some answer to the questions about "how I'm doing." The title of this series ("Same Dream China") is liberally borrowed from the wonderful Gold Panda track to which I often listen whilst walking and pondering along the streets and trails of China.

*


I find myself back in Donsol, Philippines. Specifically, I am in the middle of the dive that I enjoyed last winter break. It is a drift dive, which means that a heavy current pushes the divers in such a way that they need not swim--and should not resist the current for risk of exhaustion. This particular drift dive is remarkably strong since the Pacific tides are sweeping into a narrow strait between two islands. The current is so strong that divers are required to use hooks and leashes to tether to the ocean floor. I remember surfacing with rope burn on my wrists, where I was tethered to the leash.

Anyways, I am floating rapidly in the current. I do not have a tank, but I can breathe. Wildlife also is pushed helplessly in the current: leopard sharks, octopi, eels, and other schools of small fish. Anemones dance on the reefs. The visibility (water clarity) is astounding. I breathe calmly, but aware of the fact that this is not a natural setting--that I should experience stress and discomfort.


I do not feel panicked about lacking a tank, about lacking a leash, about being helpless to the push of the Pacific's current.

Confertzel: Interfaith Love and Marriage in Relation to Parents

In a recent conversation with two students I tutor, one student, John, bluntly asked: "Do you believe in--" He then paused to look-up a word on his phone's dictionary, "--God?"

This is a difficult topic to address regardless of a language barrier; to explain one's conceptions of "God" to someone who does not even know the word for "God" is a mental exercise in its own right.

John did not intend for the conversation to veer into philosophy, though. He quickly followed my simplistic answer with a story. John had recently proposed to his girlfriend: He showed me a silver band as validation and explained that modern Chinese custom is to use the engagement ring as an opportunity to exchange what Westerners might view as a "Promise Ring"--a non-diamond ring that signifies commitment but carries substantially less gravity. And given different economic standards, I am not surprised that the practice of giving a diamond ring (much less a three-months-salary-worth ring) is a rare occurence in China.

In any case, John's parents were not nearly as thrilled with his decision to propose to his girlfriend of fourteen months. According to John's mother, John "must" marry someone who believes in "God." John's girlfriend does not. (On a saddening side note, John's grandmother disapproves of John's girlfriend because she is not as pretty as John's cousin's wife. Therefore, John's grandmother and the rest of the family will "lose face" if he marries his girlfriend.)

"What can I do to change my mother's mind?"

Obviously, I advised honesty about his love. But I cautioned him that there are many details about the situation that make it so only he can truly find the "right" answer. I advised him to take into account the balance of tradition, legacy, familial love, independence, his own love, and his girlfriend's love. Then I asked him if he believed in "God": "No."

And yet I digress...

A snapshot of last week's sophomore class

*

Me: "I like a lot of different music."
Xiao Wang (a.k.a. Chris): "Me too. Who is your favorite rappers?"
Me: "--maybe A Tribe Called Quest, Jurassic 5, Outkast, M.I.A., the Roots, Jay-Z--"
Xiao Wang: "I like Jay-Z too."
Me: "Yeah? Who is your favorite?"
Xiao Wang: "Shaquille O'Neal."

An Introduction (new series)

I was recently clicking through Wikipedia articles (an act of procrastination related to a lack of direction in writing a blog post about how my students revealed their hierarchy of values during a class activity about societal pressure). In my distracted efforts to hone my now rusty pub-trivia-oriented mind, I continued through Wiki pages for at least an hour. I landed upon "Felix Mendelssohn" and was delighted to follow a link to an external page about Mendelssohn's decision to embrace Lutheranism over Judaism.

Despite being born a Jew, Mendelssohn was baptized in accordance with his parents wishes--his parents, however, were not baptized until Mendelssohn was a teenager. These conversions are now widely interpreted to have been indicative of a general shift away from shtetl life in 19th century Germany: In 1812, Germany guaranteed German Jews full civil equality if they converted from Judaism. Theoretically seeing an opportunity for socio-economic advancement, the Mendelssohns became some of the more famous converts from Judaism.

"Falletin Me Be Mice Elf"

Autumn is a difficult time for me to be away from the United States, from family, and from friends.

I often miss how autumn brings a transition of colors, flavors, and smells. Even though 南京 (Nanjing) experiences cooling temperatures more than 深圳 (Shenzhen), the leaves on most trees do not go through red, orange, or bright yellow phases. They immediately become brown with sickly yellow edges. They do, however, retain the gratifying crunch when stepped-on. Menus do not change, though, to favor pumpkins, apples, and spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, or clove. Pumpkins are popular year-round, and cider is completely absent in China. And I truly miss how the thick air of summer thins and reveals that lush smell of decomposition in the autumn. (Most of China has either the smell of pollution or public defecation.)

And the holidays (from October 14th through Jewish High Holidays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and into "holiday season") trigger an automatic craving for contact with friends and family. Regardless of my criticisms of celebrating historical imperialism or commercial materialism, I, like most Americans, feel a twinge of longing for those connections we hold dearest.