I’m starting to fall into a routine here. It’s only been two weeks of classes, but already I know that it takes me forty-five minutes to wake up and get out the door each morning, fifteen minutes to walk to the IUP building, and three hours to do my homework each night. Even cooking dinner, which used to take multiple attempts and an embarrassing amount of time, is almost down to a science. Last week, though, I was reminded of just how little I know of even my immediate surroundings.
As I walked home having just completed of my second week of classes, I overheard a conversation between two Tsinghua University students on the topic of Taiwan-Mainland China relations. I was surprised by how much I could understand, and furthermore that they were discussing a topic that I had just been talking about that day in class. I followed the girls all the way to the South Gate, eavesdropping on their ten minute or so conversation, which touched on a variety of points, from the quality of life and cultural differences between the two locales, to the Taiwanese pop sensation, Jay Chou.
I couldn’t help but wonder where these two girls were from, and as silly as it may seem, it was the first time I had really considered the (thousands of) other Tsinghua students that I passed every day on my way to Wen Bei Lou, (my classroom building), which is inhabited mostly by foreigners. It is so easy to fall into a little community in Beijing, and this year I am trying to push myself to expand my boundaries. I accomplished this in one sense by making my first (real) Chinese friend, a friend of my brother’s who had just moved here from Hunan. But aside from him, I do spend the majority of my time outside the classroom with my English-speaking friends. After my walk home behind these two Tsinghua students, and especially after being prompted by a question sent to us by the Light Fellowship, I started to think about how I want to spend my year in China, particularly in comparison to the whirlwind of a summer that was 2008. I came up with a rather simple answer: I want to live in the real Beijing, and not in an artificial, ex-pat dominated Beijing. I do not want to spend my time holed up in my apartment studying characters, nor do I want to spend my nights working at an American company where I’ll be handling the same business that I encountered back in NYC. Despite living in Wudaokou, (a district known to be inhabited by foreign students because of the many universities), I have been, and am going to continue, to take every chance I get to leave campus, and leave Wudaokou.
But back to the point of this post... That night, some friends and I went out to dinner, and somehow the documentary China Prep came up in conversation. I’ve always been interested in how educational systems vary between countries, so I googled it when I got home and spent the next hour or so watching the show. It is fascinating. It tells the story of five high school students attending one of Sichuan’s best schools, all competing for entrance to China’s two best universities – BeiDa and Tsinghua University. Their futures are contingent on one test, known as the Gao Kao, and this documentary follows their final year in high school as they prepare to take the test. The show does a decent job of addressing the ever so obvious question of bureaucracy, which exists in almost every realm of China, and in the end convinces the viewer that while the system may not be perfect, it’s as close as it’s going to get to giving a Party Secretary’s son and a poor farmer’s son equal chances of success. If you have a chance, I highly recommend watching it. You can find it at: http://www.pbs.org/wnet/wideangle/episodes/china-prep/video-full-episode/2722/
These students’ lives are completely different than anything I have ever experienced or even seen through my travels and time spent studying abroad. While I knew in theory this is what China’s educational system was like, (just based on the sheer numbers), I did not have a clear sense of what this meant for somebody my age. This documentary tells the stories behind some of the students I pass every day on my way to class. These kids are tested at the age of 13 and 14 for entrance to high school; some of these schools have the capabilities and resources of getting their students into college, but most of them do not. Then at the ages of 17 and 18, they take the Gao Kao, an SAT-like test that will most likely determine if they stay in their hometown forever, or if they are able to attend college in the nation’s capital and have a chance at any sort of higher standard of living. For those from poor or rural backgrounds, this outcome has significantly more important repercussions than for those living in cities. Some argue that their lives will be determined by that first test at age 14, and that there are no second chances. And I thought the world of prep schools and the Ivy League was stressful… Imagine having only one chance at success, and having to take that chance at the age of 14.
We had to give a short speech in class last week on a topic of our choice, so I chose to discuss differences between the American and Chinese educational systems. My teacher explained most of the students that attend Tsinghua are local Beijing residents, but some, if they score high enough on their Gao Kao, (higher than Beijing applicants), are accepted from outside the city. I certainly have a new found appreciation for being able to attend class everyday at Tsinghua. We are not only among the nation’s brightest students, but also learning Mandarin in the midst of what some might declare the biggest competition in the world.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
空气污染
For those who want to learn some Chinese, I will post words with the Pinyin translation and tone (1-4) after each word. Let's start with "air pollution", or 空气污染 (kong1qi4 wu1ran3)
The view from my apartment this morning:
The view from my apartment this morning:
Monday, September 13, 2010
雍和宫 - The Lama Temple
Last week, I was taking the subway home from the Beijing version of Best Buy when my line stopped at the Lama Temple (雍和宫). As one of the largest and most important lamaseries in the world, this temple had always been on my to-do list here in Beijing, especially after taking multiple Chinese history courses throughout my time at Yale. But somehow, in the midst of studying and running around to China’s many other tourist spots, I had yet to make it there. Thankfully, I had a free afternoon and my camera on me, so I spent the next two hours wandering around the various halls and courtyards that comprise this Buddhist temple, (photos below).
I was fascinated by the history of the temple; so often, I am overwhelmed when I read about a historical site in Beijing, and then am able to go wander around that very same place. Perhaps this is why I get chills when I step onto Tiananmen Square each time. So much of China is based in tradition that walking down the street to run an errand can be just as much a cultural experience than it is a chore. For example, people, especially the elderly, practice Tai Chi each morning in the parks, while others paint calligraphy on the sidewalk. The Mid Autumn Festival is also about to take place on September 22nd, and grocery stores, restaurants, and billboards around the city are all focused on promoting of the famous “Moon Cakes” and honoring the holiday, which is rooted in celebrating the Goddess of the Moon and the end of the harvest season.
While I know the Lama Temple has undergone several renovations, its inherent function as a lamasery is still the same. And as I wandered around the halls filled with Buddhas of all sizes, (there is even one over 85 feet), this landmark as actually serving as a place of worship became very evident. The monks overseeing each room recited scriptures either from memory or text, providing a consistent, monotone humming as the lyrical background to my visit. I was also in the minority of people not engaging in active worship. Around me, visitors offered incense to the Buddhas and completed intricate prayer rituals. Many went through the prayers in sets of three’s. Others kept it simple with a single up and down motion. Very few people spoke outloud. The temple took on a very reverent feeling, and made me think a lot about ritual, worship, and religion.
I considered myself non-religious, somewhere between Atheism and Agnosticism, throughout high school and college, perhaps more out of laziness than anything. As a child, I only attended “Sunday School” until the age of eight when “Cantonese School” then took over the weekend morning routine. But being at the Lama Temple made me realize just how many people, even in an atheist country such as China, turn to some form of ritual to enhance their daily lives. In the US, we rarely see forms of worship aside from organized religion, except maybe in our weekly yoga class. In China, it’s everywhere. It’s in my readings for class, it’s in the cultural values based in Confucianism, and it’s on the sign hanging on my neighbors’ doors. That being said, this temple is one of very few surviving Tibetan lamaseries in a country that has had a history of religious intolerance. The temple’s use as a genuine place of worship versus a government-sponsored site used to demonstrate China as a country that respects the religious freedom of minorities could be debated. Either way, I thought a lot that day about whether there is a way for anybody, no matter one’s background, to incorporate some aspect of the divine, whether it is simple ancestor worship or full-blown commitment to organized religion, into one’s life in a valuable way. Or do we all already worship something, whether it be divine or not? If it's not divine, is that the same thing as worship?
For those interested in the history of the temple, here is a short summary: The temple was originally the residential palace of Count Yin Zhen, (later known as Yongzheng), who, when he became emperor in 1723, moved to the Forbidden City. Eventually, his second palace was converted into a lamasery that accumulated importance in latter years and became home to legions of monks from Mongolia and Tibet. The temple was closed for a period of time after China’s Civil War in 1949, but managed to escape the destruction of the Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution thanks to Zhou Enlai, who was pioneering an effort to preserve what he could of China’s heritage. It reopened to the public in 1981, and today serves as an active Tibetan Buddhist center.
I was fascinated by the history of the temple; so often, I am overwhelmed when I read about a historical site in Beijing, and then am able to go wander around that very same place. Perhaps this is why I get chills when I step onto Tiananmen Square each time. So much of China is based in tradition that walking down the street to run an errand can be just as much a cultural experience than it is a chore. For example, people, especially the elderly, practice Tai Chi each morning in the parks, while others paint calligraphy on the sidewalk. The Mid Autumn Festival is also about to take place on September 22nd, and grocery stores, restaurants, and billboards around the city are all focused on promoting of the famous “Moon Cakes” and honoring the holiday, which is rooted in celebrating the Goddess of the Moon and the end of the harvest season.
While I know the Lama Temple has undergone several renovations, its inherent function as a lamasery is still the same. And as I wandered around the halls filled with Buddhas of all sizes, (there is even one over 85 feet), this landmark as actually serving as a place of worship became very evident. The monks overseeing each room recited scriptures either from memory or text, providing a consistent, monotone humming as the lyrical background to my visit. I was also in the minority of people not engaging in active worship. Around me, visitors offered incense to the Buddhas and completed intricate prayer rituals. Many went through the prayers in sets of three’s. Others kept it simple with a single up and down motion. Very few people spoke outloud. The temple took on a very reverent feeling, and made me think a lot about ritual, worship, and religion.
I considered myself non-religious, somewhere between Atheism and Agnosticism, throughout high school and college, perhaps more out of laziness than anything. As a child, I only attended “Sunday School” until the age of eight when “Cantonese School” then took over the weekend morning routine. But being at the Lama Temple made me realize just how many people, even in an atheist country such as China, turn to some form of ritual to enhance their daily lives. In the US, we rarely see forms of worship aside from organized religion, except maybe in our weekly yoga class. In China, it’s everywhere. It’s in my readings for class, it’s in the cultural values based in Confucianism, and it’s on the sign hanging on my neighbors’ doors. That being said, this temple is one of very few surviving Tibetan lamaseries in a country that has had a history of religious intolerance. The temple’s use as a genuine place of worship versus a government-sponsored site used to demonstrate China as a country that respects the religious freedom of minorities could be debated. Either way, I thought a lot that day about whether there is a way for anybody, no matter one’s background, to incorporate some aspect of the divine, whether it is simple ancestor worship or full-blown commitment to organized religion, into one’s life in a valuable way. Or do we all already worship something, whether it be divine or not? If it's not divine, is that the same thing as worship?
For those interested in the history of the temple, here is a short summary: The temple was originally the residential palace of Count Yin Zhen, (later known as Yongzheng), who, when he became emperor in 1723, moved to the Forbidden City. Eventually, his second palace was converted into a lamasery that accumulated importance in latter years and became home to legions of monks from Mongolia and Tibet. The temple was closed for a period of time after China’s Civil War in 1949, but managed to escape the destruction of the Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution thanks to Zhou Enlai, who was pioneering an effort to preserve what he could of China’s heritage. It reopened to the public in 1981, and today serves as an active Tibetan Buddhist center.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Photo Update: Week with Mom
Peking duck at Dadong - Zoe, *when* you come...
Visit to Tiananmen and Mao's tomb - I always get chills when I step onto the square. My mom brought up our first trip to China when Quin and I flew kites there one afternoon, and it's actually one of the few memories from my childhood that I remember in detail.
At 798 Art District - A highlight for my mom, and one of my favorite places in the city. We roamed around for about two hours, and only saw a portion of the entire district. Can't wait to go back.
At 798 - Statues can be found everywhere outside of the galleries. It's changed a lot even since the last time I was here in 2008.
Tsinghua University - My walk to class.
IUP Building
Lunch - 13 yuan = $1.90. Love Beijing.
Nanluoguxiang - Ran into these cuties on our walk to Nanluoguxiang, one of my favorite streets in Beijing. The street is a refurbished hutong alley that's been converted into a fashionable area stocked with restaurants, shops, bars, and cafes. These three were air-drying their paintings and playing games outside of their homes.
Cooking class - We learned how to make four delicious Chinese dishes that are not included in my Poh Poh's repertoire. The teacher is originally from Guangzhou, so my mom was excited to use her Cantonese after being left in the dark for the previous week of Mandarin.
The view from my apartment
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Moving in
I have been in Beijing for a week now, and in those seven days, I have: signed my first apartment (in Chinese!), visited three of favorite places in the city, (798 art district, Tiananmen, and Nanluoguxiang), had orientation for IUP, eaten one of the best meals of my life, eaten one of the cheapest meals of my life, taken a cooking class, discovered IKEA Beijing, and made way too many trips to the cell phone store. While it seems like this is the first time I’ve had time to sit down and breathe, I am trying to take everything one step at a time.
I’m living in 五道口,about a ten minute walk from the IUP building. My apartment complex only has singles, and this will be my first time living alone. So far it’s been fine, but I’m glad that I have my friend, Simin, one floor below me. The location is really convenient, with a supermarket right across the street and the subway about fifteen minutes down the road. The apartment hunt was not that bad at all – I looked at five or six different apartments my first day in Beijing and managed to sign this lease within 24 hours of first contacting the agency. I was surprised I was able to negotiate the terms with my agent and landlord, as the first few days in Beijing were a bit of a struggle with the language. I know things will only get easier with time, but I have had some frustrating moments over the past week.
I guess the major barrier I encounter with my speaking is what people expect me to be able to say, given my appearance, and what they get. I am asked the question, “What are you?” in regards to my ethnicity at least once a day. A few cab drivers were very annoyed to find out I am not fully Chinese, nor did I grow up speaking the language – in fact, one driver even kicked my mom and me out of his cab because he refused to take directions to our hotel. (Side note: it seems as though people in Beijing don’t use addresses.) I’ve encountered this attitude in the past, but it still surprises me as the majority of Chinese are over-the-top nice and go out of their way to help. Today, for example, as I was trying to navigate the public bus, one lady would not stop staring at me. After saying hello to her, she asked me where I was going and pointed me in the direction of the correct stop, about a block away. She even followed me down the street and made sure I was taken care of.
At the same time, however, I have felt that I am getting more familiar with Beijing, and that my Chinese is coming back. It’s a really spread out city, so getting from my district to downtown near the second ring road can be anywhere from a 20 minute cab ride with no traffic to over an hour on public transportation. Over the past week, though, I have made this trip a few times, going back and forth from my mom’s hotel room and my new apartment, which has really helped me understand the layout of the city. In fact, I have been asked for directions four times now and been able to correctly respond to three of them!
More pictures and stories from the past week to come – just wanted to give everybody a preliminary update because it’s been so long!
I’m living in 五道口,about a ten minute walk from the IUP building. My apartment complex only has singles, and this will be my first time living alone. So far it’s been fine, but I’m glad that I have my friend, Simin, one floor below me. The location is really convenient, with a supermarket right across the street and the subway about fifteen minutes down the road. The apartment hunt was not that bad at all – I looked at five or six different apartments my first day in Beijing and managed to sign this lease within 24 hours of first contacting the agency. I was surprised I was able to negotiate the terms with my agent and landlord, as the first few days in Beijing were a bit of a struggle with the language. I know things will only get easier with time, but I have had some frustrating moments over the past week.
I guess the major barrier I encounter with my speaking is what people expect me to be able to say, given my appearance, and what they get. I am asked the question, “What are you?” in regards to my ethnicity at least once a day. A few cab drivers were very annoyed to find out I am not fully Chinese, nor did I grow up speaking the language – in fact, one driver even kicked my mom and me out of his cab because he refused to take directions to our hotel. (Side note: it seems as though people in Beijing don’t use addresses.) I’ve encountered this attitude in the past, but it still surprises me as the majority of Chinese are over-the-top nice and go out of their way to help. Today, for example, as I was trying to navigate the public bus, one lady would not stop staring at me. After saying hello to her, she asked me where I was going and pointed me in the direction of the correct stop, about a block away. She even followed me down the street and made sure I was taken care of.
At the same time, however, I have felt that I am getting more familiar with Beijing, and that my Chinese is coming back. It’s a really spread out city, so getting from my district to downtown near the second ring road can be anywhere from a 20 minute cab ride with no traffic to over an hour on public transportation. Over the past week, though, I have made this trip a few times, going back and forth from my mom’s hotel room and my new apartment, which has really helped me understand the layout of the city. In fact, I have been asked for directions four times now and been able to correctly respond to three of them!
More pictures and stories from the past week to come – just wanted to give everybody a preliminary update because it’s been so long!
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