S.O.S. (Survivors on Shore)
Written by Nikki Weiner (Barnard College), Student Correspondent
C.V. Starr-Middlebury School in China in Hangzhou, Spring 2013
This past weekend we headed to the Chinese fishing village of 象山(Xiangshan), which is near 宁波 (Ningbo), to have bonding time with our roommates. The Americans prepared for the trip by blasting “Vamos a la Playa” and throwing together a bag of bathing suits, towels, and a change of clothes, all of which took under 10 minutes and was completed 30 minutes before our departure; Meanwhile, our Chinese roommates had a more precautionary preparation. This consisted of a meeting the day before departure about how to prepare properly to go to the beach, and sending us multiple reminders through email, text, phone calls, and word of mouth to NOT FORGET to bring sunscreen, to apply said sunscreen (though we weren’t at the beach yet), to bring warm clothes, to drink lots of water, and to buy lunch to eat at the beach… oh and did you remember to pack your sunscreen? Chinese people deem pale skin as more beautiful than tan skin, a common contradiction between Americans and Chinese, so the sunscreen would prove to be a point of controversy throughout our vacation.
But after preparation and a 3.5 hour bus ride, we pulled up to Xiangshan rocking shorts, flip-flops, and tank-tops, while our roommates were dressed in flannel clothing. As to not let them know we hadn’t actually taken their recommendation to dress warmly we shivered subtly, very subtly, thinking S.O.S. After surviving the less than ideal first day weather, our first night at what some of our Chinese roommates called a Haunted Hotel turned out to be a rocky-horror like night. My roommate’s alarm went off at 3:00AM as she planned to watch the sunrise. Though the sunrise is at 5:03AM, a 2-hour preparation that would wake me up at 3:00AM and would ensure she wouldn’t miss it is totally understandable, right? Meanwhile, those living on the “silou”(4th floor), which has the same pronunciation as the Chinese word “to die”, brought forth Chinese superstitions. One Chinese roommate said he saw a ghost, heard someone calling his name, and saw things in the mirrors. Hmmm… And those sleeping on the 3rd floor came to breakfast complaining a screaming and yelling mother had woke them at 5:00AM, which ironically coincided with the sunrise, just want to point that out.
Despite a horrifying first night, we were going to “la playa” and nothing could impede our excitement. But getting to the beach wasn’t the traditional American road trip experience; a boat packed with Chinese travelers transported us to another beach where army men questioned our identities. Then a Jurassic Park-like tour car drove us to a mud-filled body of water, where the driver told us to walk straight until we reached a vacant beach (he didn’t tell us it’d be vacant, but it was, just for the record).
On the beach the bonding with our roommates began! Us Americans stripped down to our bikinis and our Chinese roommates left all of their long-sleeved shirts and pants on, applying sunscreen on top of their clothes, which is truly not too far off of reality. I tried to fly a kite with Lanlan, a Chinese roommate, but failed miserably. Then an hour later she came running over to me saying, “WeiWei, kankan!” (weiwei, look,look!) She was indeed flying the kite (though multiple experienced kite flyers had helped her). Meanwhile, Ethan was speeding around the beach on an ATV, and his driving skills proved to attract all of the ladies. Vivian, who is like Mother Teresa, collected trash on the beach, while the rest of us worked on our tans (using minimal sunscreen), which resulting in sunburns. Then we started a game of beach volleyball that gave our roommates an opportunity to show their true athletic skills, like their ability to make sure every time they received the ball it would fly out of bounds. I still would encourage them to “Manman lai” (take your time).
On our last day in 象山 we headed to the famous Movie City, where some of us experienced a 15-minute ‘time travel’ to ancient China and the future world through the 3D films “The Mummy Returns” and “Dinosaurs” in the 4D cinema. Wow, what a well-developed theatre… no seatbelts, no precautions, and tape holding together the seat arm rests. Water sprayed all over us, and our seats rocked all over the place, and some weird “things” (still left unidentified) slapped us, burning our sunburns. It was very zhongguo (China), to say the least. Finally, we had a little fun inside of the catacomb exhibit where we shot our version of the Blair Witch Project. This consisted of Jeremy using his iPhone to capture our reactions to the skeletons. Maia’s reaction to the Boxer skeleton, self-explanatory and totally comprehensible, a skeleton wearing one red boxing glove, was the spookiest or the funniest scene, you decide. And to finish off our trip, our bus ride back to Hangzhou included bathroom stops, a stop to get seafood at a seafood market, and a McDonalds run. We arrived back at school 5 hours later, with some serious laduzi (stomach problems)!
Home away from home
Written by Nikki Weiner (Barnard College), Student Correspondent
C.V. Starr-Middlebury School in China in Hangzhou, Spring 2013
Midterm week was a week of indulgence in my studies, not much consideration for what was going around me. My classmates and my studies were sporadically interrupted by dancing to Ke$ha, sharing funny Youtube videos, and taking late night trips to the market to stock up on study snacks. And of course there were other cockroach distractions. My mission to control the cockroach infestation has progressed since last week when my screams pierced the hallways and everyone gathered to witness me “reiding” a mama Roach giving birth, yes life birth. It was horrifying; and I am still suffering from nightmares about the controversial decision to murder a cockroach giving birth, but I believe I saved the dorm from a new generation of roaches, and, in the end I call myself a hero.
After my triumph last week we started Spring Break, but before heading off to travel, our attention was brought to international news reports covering the H7N9 Bird Flu in China. Many of us received messages from family and loved ones inquiring about our safety, and we were advised to stay away from areas where large numbers of bird congregate and to not eat meat. Meanwhile live poultry markets in Hangzhou and Shanghai closed to control the outbreak. We carried on with our travel plans using caution, and collectively our Spring break trips took us all around China and beyond. Ethan traveled solo to Yunnan’s and visited Lijiang; Jeremy jet set to India to visit a friend; Susie, Katharine, Zella, and Meagan went biking and boating in Guilin and Yangshuo, and I went hiking with my parents to Huangshan (Yellow Mountain). From each one of these places, my classmates brought back stories about cultural experiences, and some even brought back trinkets! Jeremy showed us the henna on his hands that he done in India and Ethan flashed a skinned dog rug that he purchased in Lijiang, in his defense he thought it was a wolf. Susie, Katharine, Zella, and Meagan gave us a fashion show of their hats and clothes they bargained for in Guilin.
As for me, the long awaited visit of my parents had finally arrived, and I had anticipated a smooth sailing trip, a little introduction to my life in China for my parents, you might say. I assured my anxious mother that I would safely get us from one place to another, and order all of her food with no MSG, no oil, no sugar, no butter, no milk, and no meat. No problem, I got this, meaning I was traveling with two people who barely know how to say “nihao” and “xiexie,” I guess in retrospect I may have been getting ahead of myself? So at the airport in Huangshan, I was bombarded by heiche (black cabs), which my parents were oblivious to, as they didn’t understand the drivers, phew! Finally I got a legal taxi and headed into nature to hike the Yellow Mountain. But my mom was rather shocked when we had to wait at the bottom of the mountain for two and a half hours in line with thousands (no exaggeration) of Chinese people who had the same plan. Meanwhile, this was my parent’s first encounter with Chinese habits like spitting, coughing, and shoving. I purchased our tickets and when my parents weren’t looking I got them the senior citizen discount (saved us 500 Yuan, right there)….. Until we got stopped by the police when we were about to enter the cable car, and I was fairly certain we were about to be arrested when the police officer opened his mouth and spoke perfect English, “Let me see your passport,” he said. Then my sweet, sweet mother pointed to me and said “She bought the tickets.” After arguing that the ticket office had sold me the senior citizen discount for a while, and giving him the 500 Yuan, we got through to the cable car. But my mom got a little feisty and kicked a guy who was pushing her in line, which started another argument. We finally got to the top of the mountain, and the next morning we woke to watch the sunset, and I cannot emphasize enough that there is nothing quite like an intimate sun-set with your parents…. And the rest of China (thousands of ‘em). My dad did get a kick out of the Chinese wanting to take pictures with us, though! Hey, I got us there and back safe, and that’s all that matters!
But reminders of home came in a more heartbreaking way upon returning to campus. Waking up to news and social media sites covering the Boston Marathon bombings was jolting. It was a flash of reality; outside of this study abroad bubble we live in here. For some of us, not knowing whether loved ones were safe was unbearable. For all us, the reality of being halfway across the way, a 12-hour time difference, and no ability to help, brought an array of emotions: anger, sadness, fear, and grief. Personally, imagining that my parents run the Boston Marathon annually and, had they not come that week to China to visit they could have been victims, was a hard pill to swallow. Prayers and thoughts have been and will continue to be sent from each of us here in China to Boston. We love you, Boston.
Stop and Smell the Roses
Written by Nikki Weiner (Barnard College), Student Correspondent
C.V. Starr-Middlebury School in China in Hangzhou, Spring 2013
I can’t believe that I’ve been in China for 3 months now, and that I only have 2 months before I return to America. Recently my friend and I were walking along the West Lake, he turned to me and said, “I can’t believe how much we’ve grown since being in China.” I smiled and contemplated the weeping lilies dipping into the water like a woman’s hair, and the green lotus flowers, full blossom, and with the change of the season, I smiled because I know that each one of us is blooming.
I believe we have choices as to what we will do along our journey in China. Of course, some circumstances are out of our control and we must learn to adapt. For instance, the other morning I woke up to a cockroach infestation on my floor. I stood on my tiptoes and cringed while the mama and papa cockroaches’ babies crawled on my floor. After a trip to the market, I returned home with a bottle of Raid. Now I don’t know what you know about Raid, but it is a pretty big deal. It gave me a practical way to terminate the ancestral line of cockroaches. I felt empowered, like the way I always imagined Geraldine Hoff must have felt whenever I see a “We Can Do It!” poster. Things only looked up from there, and most recently, after months of being grossed out by China’s Pringles, from meat to cucumber flavors, I took a friend’s suggestion, and tried the tomato flavored Pringles, and whadda you know…Love ‘em!
My point is that many of us yearn for comfort here in China. We will willingly travel an hour to get a burrito…hop on the K12 jammed packed bus, full of shoving people, deal with them pushing us in every direction, while passengers pick their noses and stare at us. I gotta say, usually at that point I am so grossed out, because that passenger is really diggin’ for gold, but I got my eye on the real treasure, the burrito. And I think my Chinese roommate thinks I’m desperate, but give me a break, she’s never gone 3 months without a bowl of “mala tang” (spicy soup), and let’s face it, she probably doesn’t know the taste of heaven in a bite of a burrito. But seriously, it can be challenging to eat food to which our taste buds and stomachs haven’t become accustomed; And day after day, it can still be frustrating for us to have people stare and say “HELLO” in our faces; And it never seems fair when our Chinese teachers give us hours on end of homework because we spend too much time in “yaoyaosan” (room 113), our study space, that I’m now not sure if some people have traded in their bedroom for “yaoyaosan.”
What keeps each of us going, though, is finding our passion in China by stepping out of our comfort zones. Each student has courageously found a way to assimilate into the culture: Jeremy, a talented musician back home, found a Chinese orchestra and now he is the first American to play in their orchestra; Maia, an artist, and Katharine, who loves working with kids, met an art teacher at Starbucks, and now they are volunteering at an art school for children; Zella, a martial arts chick, started taking Kungfu classes with a Chinese teacher; Vivian, a nature lover, buys fresh veggies and cooks organic vegetarian dishes; Ethan, a soccer player, joined a soccer league in Hangzhou, and hangs out with his teammates on weekends; Susie, a fit girl, is trying out belly dancing classes at the gym; Meagan, a fashionista, is shopping around Hangzhou buying the coolest trends; and me, I’m a spirit junkie, and I’m meditating with Buddhist monks in temples. What originally brought us together to China was our goal to improve our Chinese, but what makes us grow together is stepping out into Chinese culture and “stopping to smell the roses.” I am truly proud to be a part of this inspiring group of students with whom I get to study Chinese and grow with, and I can’t wait to continue our journey together for the next two months. Keep following us here, and don’t forget, when you want to find your way, make sure to stop and smell the roses.
~WeiWei
Eastern Immersion
As a Chinese major planning to work in China following graduation, I never intended my study abroad experience to be an extended vacation or some sort of enlightenment episode. My priority was more practical: I wanted to learn to speak Chinese well so I could work there effectively someday.
With this in mind, I chose a program specializing in language instruction and cultural immersion. I was drawn to it because it avoided superficial tourism in favor of a practical focus. With a language pledge that required us to speak Mandarin at all times, a rigorous course schedule consisting entirely of classes taught in Mandarin, and the opportunity to live with a Chinese roommate, it promised to provide the training and preparation I sought.
While in China I studied through two programs. The first was a January language intensive stint in Beijing, and the second was a spring semester in Hangzhou, a smaller city about an hour southwest of Shanghai.
The Beijing program was a crash-course on life and language in China. In addition to several classroom hours each day, we spoke with Chinese people throughout Beijing and the surrounding area, including interviewing elderly Chinese in a city park and rural Chinese families.
In mid-February I arrived at Zhejiang University of Technology in Hangzhou, where I’d spend the next four months. The program quickly proved itself to be demanding—almost overwhelmingly so—both academically and culturally. Three hours of daily classroom language instruction were followed by nightly memorization of dozens of characters, plus weekly tests and papers.
We were expected to display in-depth understanding of our subjects both verbally and in writing.
Perhaps the most demanding part of the curriculum was the tutorial, in which we discussed a topic of our choosing in one-on-one conversations with an instructor. We were expected to display in-depth understanding of our subjects both verbally and in writing. My topic was China’s economic reform since the 1970s. This challenging class, coupled with extensive requirements from other courses, improved my language skills exponentially within a brief period.
We 17 American students were also encouraged to be independent outside the classroom. During our first week on campus we were given a dorm room, a meal card, and a brief tour—and then we were on our own. Although the program director was available in case of trouble, we were expected to solve our own problems. This self-sufficiency forced us to confront our outsider status and brought us face-to-face with language and cultural barriers, preventing us from forming an idealistic view of China.
Sam with a Chinese friend.
Through our daily interactions with our roommates, teachers, other students, and locals, we confronted many jarring contrasts between Chinese and American culture—both pleasant and otherwise. The positives included the amazing variety of delicious cuisines as well as the friendliness of the Chinese people. The negatives included the prevalence of smoking, spitting, and butting into line. Though some of these matters were tough to get used to, our Chinese roommates helped us acculturate. I spent much time with my roommate, with whom I quickly formed a close bond. With him as my guide, I began to make sense of my surroundings and settle into the unfamiliar environment.
By the end of my months in China, the intensive immersive experience had paid off. My language skills had improved beyond recognition, and my understanding of Chinese culture had also increased. Just as importantly, I’d learned what it’s like to be an outsider, trying to understand and grow accustomed to an unfamiliar society—an experience that will serve me well in the years ahead.
Read Sam’s original blog post on the Macalester College website: http://www.macalester.edu/news/2012/11/eastern-immersion
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