Same Difference

Most days I wonder if there is any difference between teaching ESL in the U.S. and China.

When I taught at the graduate school in Shenzhen, I was given an attendance policy that was supposed to be strictly enforced, even though it was a lenient policy. There was no official policy for tardiness, but my department agreed that students would be counted absent after 15 minutes, which really pissed off some students. Most students showed up on time, but there were also the habitually tardy.

Now, I've been given a much less lenient attendance policy (two absences per class and four lates equals one absence). I've repeatedly told my classes about this policy. Still, a few of them are habitually late. I also have a few who have already failed the class (it's not even mid-term) because they've missed too many classes. And I'm fairly lenient on the tardiness--I give them a few minutes before I mark them late.

The only significant difference I see between my current and previous students is that the current ones are much more active in class and usually ask questions. In a year and a half at the grad school, I only had a few students who regularly asked questions (mostly clarifications of assignments).

One aspect I miss about the grad school is the communication. We had a small department and held weekly meetings to discuss the classes and any administrative matters. Unlike most meetings in China, these were not boring or useless--my boss only made the meetings as long as they needed to be, which occasionally meant the meeting lasted a few minutes. Now, if I have any problems or concerns, I have schedule a meeting that somehow fits my schedule as well as my supervisor's.

Busy Streets

My first trip to Macau was almost a year after I arrived in Shenzhen. If I had visited the city earlier, I might have tried to move there instead of staying in Shenzhen.

On that first trip, I traveled with Jia and her mother during the October holiday--it was their first trip outside of mainland China. We rushed through Macau in two days, visiting as many non-casino attractions that we could (of course, we also stopped in a few casinos, but we only gambled 20RMB).

I always enjoyed the sight of the Lisboa (before the Grand Lisboa opened across the street) in the distance as I looked down Avenue de Alemeida Ribeiro from Senado Square.

Working the Beach

During my short stint at the training center in Bao'an district, I was treated to a day at Dameisha. We were promised fun on the beach and plenty of food. The weather was terrible during that May holiday--it rained, and, like all days in Shenzhen, it was horribly humid. But, it was my first trip to Dameisha, and I was excited (I definitely had my expectations set a little too high).

There wasn't much of interest by the beach--and there wasn't much more when I returned a year later. It reminded me of Seaside Heights without the boardwalk (another destination I don't plan on ever revisiting).

As it was the beginning of the national holiday, it was crowded. I expected plenty of tourists, but I wasn't prepared for all the local factory workers. When it came time to have our beach barbecue in the designated area next to what appeared to be a landfill, I realized we were surrounded by people who rarely get a day off work. I also realized I didn't want to eat anything that the training center had provided--the meat and vegetables were mixed together and had been sitting on the hot bus all day. I ate a few things that were purposely overcooked in an effort to avoid illness.

Unlike my other foreign co-workers, I decided to take the free bus back to Bao'an. In hindsight, I should've taken a public bus with the others. The company decided the bus would stop elsewhere in Bao'an to make it more difficult to get home. I split a cab with a Chinese co-worker, but found that she lived in an area I didn't recognize. Of course, I had no idea which way the taxi driver was going and ended up paying much more than I should have. It would've been easier to take a taxi back from Dameisha.

Beach Weekend

I'm not much of a beach person. I prefer hiking in the mountains to sitting in the sun. But, I decided to take a weekend trip to Cape May--it was my first time there (and I've lived in New Jersey for 24 years), and I got to share the experience with Jia.

For some reason, all the small hotels I called prior to our departure were booked for the weekend. However, I was convinced that I could find a guesthouse or bed and breakfast that had a room available when we arrived. I was right. After searching for about 20 minutes, we found the May Caper--an older guesthouse across from the beach. It had no amenities: no TV, no air conditioning, no breakfast. It was in need of some repairs, but it was comfortable enough for a night. And, our second-floor room included a large balcony overlooking the ocean.

After a short walk on the beach, Jia and I rented bikes for the day and rode around town. We stopped along the pedestrian mall, which was rather disappointing as it had nothing I'd consider interesting or unique. It was much more interesting to ride on the side streets and admire the Victorian architecture of Cape May.

We gazed at the lighthouse before sunset from the end of Beach Avenue--we would've stayed longer, but we had to return the bikes by 6. With a little time before sunset, we drove out to the lighthouse. Unfortunately, we arrived a little too late to walk up the lighthouse. But, it was still nice to walk on the beach around it.

Sunday we drove out to the zoo. This was probably the most exciting zoo Jia has ever visited (I'll have to take her to the Bronx Zoo sometime) as she's only visited her hometown zoo, which I didn't know existed.


Before returning home, we made one last stop in Avalon to visit my friend's deli for lunch. I regret getting the larger hoagie--he stuffs his sandwiches with more meat than is really necessary.

Meet the New Boss

When I first moved to China I thought I was moving to a communist country. I quickly realized how little labels mean there.

On a trip to Dameisha, I came across this advertisement. Somehow I doubt Karl Marx would approve (or even see the humor in it). I especially like the knock-off sports car logo in the bottom left of the sign. I wouldn't be surprised if the school's curriculum included reading "Jewish Business Secrets," a popular book that has little basis in reality.

Class Demographics

After three weeks of teaching ESL writing and grammar at the community college, I've noticed more differences between my current and past students. Of course, some of the differences can be attributed to the location.

Overall, my current students are more motivated. That's not to say that my students in China weren't--I had some amazing students there who were more motivated than any student I've ever encountered. But, there are fewer unmotivated students here in New Jersey (I also only have 45 students instead of 300, so the percentage might be similar).

To go along with the motivation, my current students are much more talkative in class. Aside from my time at the language mill in Shenzhen, I never had students who actively participated in class--including the few highly-motivated students I taught at the graduate school. On the first day of class, I was shocked by students volunteering to read in class. And, the willingness to answer questions without me looking through the class list to call on specific students makes my life easier. Of course, this also leads to numerous questions from students, some of which are difficult to answer.

The best part of teaching at the community college is that all of my students are at about the same level. Again, aside from my time at the language mill, all my classes in China had mixed levels in the same class--I've had students who were nearly fluent in English mixed with students who couldn't speak a complete sentence.

This has made me realize that if I go back to teach in China (or any other country), I want to teach English and literature majors at the university level. It would definitely be more enjoyable.

Lunatics Holding Us Hostage

I thought it was over after that idiot in Florida got his 15 minutes of fame for planning to burn copies of the Koran. Now, more idiots are coming out of the woodwork and threatening the lives of every American because of their disregard for tolerance of anyone other than themselves.

The first is an pastor in Tennessee who has decided to burn the Koran to "save their souls." The second is the most hated church group in America: Westboro Baptist Church--those so-called Christians who protest at soldiers' funerals with highly offensive slogans about gays. These people are going to burn the Koran because the idiot in Florida decided not to.

How is it that a few lunatics can garner so much attention that it endangers an entire nation? Maybe the government can sponsor a trip for the lunatic fringe to the rural regions of Afghanistan and Pakistan...and leave them there.

Calming Effects

Things are a little less hectic around here. Our new apartment is now furnished (though we still need a few more bookcases and some art on the walls), and I've started teaching again at the community college.

It feels a little weird being in an ESL classroom and having no Chinese students, but that's not the demographic of the area. I was surprised that I have relatively few Spanish speakers in my classes, and quite a few Arabic speakers. Fortunately, most of the students who showed up for the first day of class were enthusiastic and determined to do well, which should make my job easier for the semester.

Everything that's been going on lately has made it difficult for me to put together the sixth issue of Terracotta Typewriter. I hope to have it finished next week--I just need to write a book review and lay-out the poems and stories.

This Friday photo is a reminder of my favorite destination in Bangkok, because it was the least crowded tourist attraction. I visited Wat Arun twice, once with Jia after our engagement and once with my parents, and was just as impressed the second time around. I found Wat Arun to be a relaxing and quiet temple in the middle of a busy city. Sometimes I think I could use a place like this nearby.

The Flood

One thing I was definitely unprepared for in China was that I would encounter quite a few Pakistanis studying at Chinese universities.

The first few I met were friends of my wife--they were studying medicine at her university in Xinjiang and attended our wedding. They were finishing up their program when we met, and they were very happy to have people with whom they could converse in English. One was arranged to be married to a woman living in Denver, and he was unsure of how he could get to the US or if she would return to Pakistan. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to see them after the wedding.

The second group of Pakistani students I met were at the graduate school in Shenzhen. The first time we met was at the campus Christmas party. I saw them a few more times around campus. And, during my last semester there, we participated in a humiliating badminton competition. They were all engineering students, and finished up their programs last year (or so they expected).

As far as I know, all of those young men returned to Pakistan. With news of the epic flooding, I wonder if they're safe. Even if they are safe, their country is in crisis and needs help. I'd like to remind my readers that toward the bottom of the sidebar of this blog is a link to the Red Cross and they do accept donations for international aid.

The Bus Through Sichuan

I took plenty of bus rides during my time in China. Fortunately, most were uneventful. I don't have the horror stories of overcrowded overnight bus trips, or getting stuck in the mud like Johnny Vagabond (whose post reminded me that I hadn't written this story yet). But, my first long-distance bus trip from Chengdu to Songpan was still an experience that I recall with a bit of humor, though it wasn't quite as amusing during the trip.

Jia decided that our best route to Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou was to take a morning bus to Songpan, stay overnight, and head to Huanglong the following morning. During the May holiday, the buses were crowded and tickets were difficult to come by, but Jia managed to get us two tickets on what she claimed was a "second-class" bus.

It was rather hot for an early May morning--I was tempted to wear shorts, but I knew we'd be heading north into the mountains--and I was sweating by the time I got on the bus to find that it had no air conditioning. A breeze would've been nice through the open windows, but we sat in the parking lot for more than a half hour.

For the first few hours, I tried to sleep, but the old bus shook too much for me to get more than a few minutes of rest. I enjoyed the scenery through Sichuan and saw terraced fields along the river for the first time during my stay in China (but not the last time).

As we rolled down the road out of Chengdu with a fresh breeze, half the bus lit cigarettes to help them enjoy the ride. It wouldn't have been so bad had the passengers smoked a few cigarettes on the way, but they didn't. They decided to chain smoke during the entire 11-hour ride. This included the driver who sat below the "No Smoking" sign. At least the windows were open.

The open windows became a mixed blessing as we drove into the mountains. Snow was still on the ground, and a few flakes fell along the ride. The windows would not close--they were stuck. I packed my jacket in my backpack, so I had some warmth, though I had to share it with Jia because she didn't have one.

On this trip I discovered the secret to making money as a bus driver or ticket-taker in China--pick up hitchhikers. During the first three hours, we stopped to pick up another 10 passengers along the road. The driver and ticket-taker split the cash and most of the new passengers had to sit in the aisle. As we came to a checkpoint, the passengers in aisle were told to lie down so the police wouldn't see them. We passed through the checkpoint without incident and the passengers resumed sitting on their bags.

As this was a second-class bus, there was no toilet on board (I was spoiled by the nice buses with toilets and movies on the short trips to Guangzhou) and we had to stop a few times in villages--usually when someone requested that the driver stop. I avoided using the public toilets as long as I could. On the first two stops I browsed through the local shops that sold snacks and cheap souvenirs--Jia and I bought some dried fruit for the ride. By the third stop, I gave in. I paid my 5 jiao to use the toilet housed in a wooden shack. It was dirty and dark, and the floorboards creaked. The toilet was little more than a slat removed from the floor. I looked down at the hole and peered clear down the mountainside. I laughed as I thought I paid for what I could've done outside off the edge of the cliff.

We arrived in Songpan in the early evening. We bought our tickets for the earliest bus the next day and inquired about hotels--we were pointed to one right across the street. We wandered the town and hiked up part of a mountain before dark. We slept early in our hotel that had no heat and boarded a much nicer bus in the morning that took us to Huanglong.

Evil Plot

The Republican gubernatorial candidate in Colorado Dan Maes claims that Denver mayor John Hickenlooper's quest to make Denver more bike friendly is a plot for UN control of America.

According to the Denver Post, Maes believes that because Mayor Hickenlooper agreed to the International Council for Local Environmental Initiatives, along with hundreds of other cities and towns around the country, that anything suggested by the UN council would infringe on our personal freedoms.

Maes told his 50 supporters in a Denver suburb, "This is all very well-disguised, but it will be exposed." He added, "This is bigger than it looks like on the surface, and it could threaten our personal freedoms."

So, Maes believes that it's a bad idea for Americans to drive less and bike more. Instead of saving money on gas and getting more exercise, we should all get fat and drive gas guzzlers because this is America and we have a God-given right to be fat and wasteful.

At least he has conspiracy theorists on his side come election day.

Turning the Wheels

I visited Jiuzhaigou in 2006 (my first full year in China), and I'm still fascinated by the park. It is the only place in China that I want to visit again (once is usually enough for any place).

Just outside Shuzheng village, where we spent the night, were these Tibetan mills.

The Tibetans channeled the rivers through chutes that powered small turbines that spun prayer wheels. They engineered a way for the water to pray.

Twisted in Shenzhen

Yesterday I heard about tornadoes in Shenzhen. I never heard about tornadoes in Shenzhen while I lived there, and this was quite shocking as it was actually three simultaneous tornadoes. And this came shortly after we were scared by warnings in the New York City area (one touched down in the Bronx). It really has been some unexpected weather lately.

Fortunately, I haven't heard anything about injuries in Shenzhen. The tornadoes were in Shenzhen Bay near Shekou--only a few miles from my last apartment. I guess these would be better classified as waterspouts as they didn't make landfall. According to the Shenzhen Daily, it is the first recorded in Shenzhen (though no word on how far back those records go).

There are some amazing photos of the tornadoes in Shenzhen here (captions are in Chinese).

Colorful, Cool

As we've experienced the hottest July on record here in New Jersey, I want to reflect on cooler times. (Funny how I was thinking about warmer times during the frigid winter.)

Still one of my favorite trips through China, Huanglong and Jiuzhaigou were beautiful. The calcified pools of Huanglong were amazing, though we arrived before the snow melt, so most of the pools were dry. It just gives me another reason to go back (next time I'll be sure to not take the 11-hour bus ride from Chengdu).

My Chinese Wedding

A few days after Jia and I obtained our Chinese marriage certificate, we celebrated our wedding in Urumqi with family and friends (mostly hers).

Before the celebration, we had a few more things that needed to be prepared. Jia had already booked the hotel--the Yindu Hotel, which was one of the nicest hotels in the city. To save some money, she contacted a friend who worked at another hotel to supply us with soda, wine, and baijiu (he agreed to buy back any unopened bottles). After picking up the drinks, we went in search of firecrackers--we had to set off a long line of them before we entered the hotel for the reception--and purchased a roll of 1500. We also had to purchase cigarettes to be places on each table--I didn't want to buy them, but I was told that guests would be very disappointed if we didn't have them (fortunately, most of Jia's friends were kind enough to smoke outside).

Jia stayed with her aunt and uncle who lived just down the street from our hotel, so it was easy for me to pick her up. Because my Chinese wasn't too good, I didn't have to play all the painful games that grooms must endure on their wedding day. Traditions include refusing to open the door until the groom answers questions and slips hongbao under the door, hiding the bride's shoes, and other obstruction tactics courtesy of the bride and groom's friends. The worst test I had to endure was carrying my bride down four flights of steps to the car (why couldn't they have lived in a building with an elevator?).

The firecrackers were lit as our car arrived at the Yindu Hotel. We stood at the entrance, waiting to greet our guests as they arrived over the course of an hour. We got to see how other people in Urumqi celebrate their wedding as another couple hosted a ceremony next to us. We had a bit of a laugh as we saw the bride in her Western-style white wedding gown next to the groom who wore dress slacks and short-sleeve shirt and tie. I was tempted to offer my services as a stand in with a tuxedo--they could later edit the photo with his head.

Before I arrived in Xinjiang, Jia also hired a photographer and MC for the day. I was a little confused about the MC, but Jia explained that he was just there to host the reception and provide a little humorous fun. To prepare me, she told me what questions the MC would ask so I could prepare my answers. Unfortunately, he spoke too quickly and didn't go in the order I was told--Jia had to translate a lot for me. He asked me questions like "How tall is your bride?" and "What size shoe does she wear?" The MC also came with a local musician from the university--she played a few instruments and was quite impressive.

After being roasted on stage and exchanging rings, dinner was served. Jia and I didn't get to enjoy dinner as we made our rounds and toasted our guests with wine and baijiu. My brother was disappointed as he thought he'd have to drink for me, which is the custom for the best man. After we toasted everyone, my brother made his rounds and tried to toast Jia's friends who became scared by the foreigner who wanted to drink baijiu.

I finally got to shovel some food into my mouth after two dozen drinks. I wish I could've eaten earlier because the food was excellent (or so I was told).

It was still early when the celebration ended. We decided to continue the party elsewhere after changing at the hotel. We rented a huge room at the local KTV--it had a projection screen and foosball table. We enjoyed more drinks and a buffet for a few more hours with about half the guests.

A Wedding Story

Jia returned from her business trip to China, and it was just in time as we celebrate our anniversary in a couple days (the Chinese wedding anniversary). And I realized I never wrote anything about our weddings (Chinese or American--yeah, we had two).

The summer before I started working at the graduate school, Jia and I planned our wedding--actually, she did most of the planning as I had no idea what needed to be done in China, nor could I communicate effectively in Chinese to know how to plan a wedding. All I had to do was set a date for my family to fly to China and pay for the whole celebration. The date was one of three lucky dates my mother-in-law obtained from a monk at a Buddhist temple.

A month prior, I had to visit the U.S. consulate in Guangzhou to obtain a notarized document stating that I was not currently married to anyone else, which then had to be translated and notarized in Shenzhen by a disgruntled government employee who questioned why he should notarize such a document even though we were paying for the service. After pleading with the notary for almost an hour, he agree to stamp the document so we would stop bothering him.

I met my parents and brother in Beijing and we flew out to Urumqi, as Jia's hometown is a two-hour bus ride from there. Before we could have our wedding reception, we had to visit the government office to obtain our marriage license. We only had four days between the license and the reception, unlike Jia's friends who waited almost a year for their reception. While my family was treated to an extended foot massage, Jia and I took a bicycle taxi across town with her friend (it was her job to take photos).

The government office was not what I expected. The first room had a lot of wedding decorations for sale--this was where we got our forms to fill out and our photos to be included in the marriage license. We then entered a larger room to wait our turn. We were the only couple getting married. The room was split in half by a banister. Jia explained that our side, which had rows of chairs in pairs, was for weddings, and the other side, which had a line or chairs around the perimeter was for divorces. I think the setup would be a great idea in Vegas.

When we were finally called to the desk for our marriage license, the clerk reviewed our documents to ensure everything was in order. She then insisted that we read a statement that claims we are not related--I thought it was funny, but the clerk insisted that I read the Chinese, which Jia had to help with as I only recognized every third character. A simple statement that should have taken two minutes took ten. The clerk disappeared for a few minutes to prepare our marriage license. When she returned, she proclaimed us husband and wife (or so I assumed considering my limited Chinese abilities). The first thing I did was look at our marriage license, which is written in Chinese and Uyghur. The clerk looked amused as Jia and I posed for photos with our marriage license in front of a large government emblem.

That night we celebrated with a banquet with Jia's relatives and friends--it was partly to make up for those who couldn't travel to Urumqi for the reception. We finished off the evening with a night out at Clone City--a large club featuring plenty of shanzhai (counterfeit) alcohol. Jia's friend had a ticket for a free bottle, and I was excited when it arrived at our table as it looked like Jack Daniel's. However, it turned out to be Jack Conte and it smelled like baijiu (my brother and I didn't drink it). They did have real alcohol, which was sold next to the shanzhai bottles (the price difference was a few hundred Yuan for the real thing and 10 Yuan for fakes). We decided to settle for Tsingtao.

Off the Coast

It really isn't surprising to anyone who has lived in China or follows the news of the country. But, this article popped up today about foreign companies leaving the coastal manufacturing areas of China.

The article begins with tales of workers demanding higher wages and better working conditions, such as the Honda plant strike in Foshan. It then goes into the attractiveness of sending some of the manufacturing jobs back to the U.S. or Mexico, or even some other Southeast Asian countries that don't have the manpower or infrastructure of China.

It only glances over the migration of factory jobs to inland cities. These cities are cropping up because of better roads and transportation improvements that make such factories competitive with their coastal counterparts. Inland cities are also more attractive to migrant workers because they might be closer to home and the standard of living is much lower, enabling workers to save more money. These cities are also attractive to smaller businesses and factories because the costs are lower--construction, rent, and wages are significantly lower than in places like Shenzhen and Shanghai. Only some of the rising cost of business in major cities is attributed to the rising exchange rate of the Yuan--the minimum wage increases in the regions plays a more important role.

Around Spring Festival, China Daily ran an article about the lack of returning employees to the major industrial cities of Guangdong Province. The estimated shortage of workers was in the hundreds of thousands. There was speculation then that the employees who didn't plan to return to their jobs were searching for work closer to home. Of course, Spring Festival is also the time of year for job hopping around China, which means most factories were already searching for new employees.

The next phase of the migration of factories is converting the old factory districts. What will become of the enormous factories around coastal cities? Some of these structures were built to accommodate more than 100,000 workers. What can be done with structures than take up so much space? In Shenzhen and Guangzhou, private schools and universities are opening up outside the center of the cities--Shenzhen has three top-tier graduate schools that share a campus in the northern city limits; and Beijing converted its old factories near the airport into the 798 arts district.

A silver lining to the exodus of manufacturing jobs from major cities may be that the heavily inflated real estate market will become more reasonable. Of course, such predictions have been made before and nothing has changed. In the coming year I'm certain there will be more predictions about real estate, the Yuan, foreign business, and overall manufacturing from the "experts" that will be proven wrong, just as they have been in the past.

Textbook Coincidence

I got an e-mail the other day offering me an adjunct position at the community college--they want me to teach two classes (though I was hoping for four) of high-level ESL writing and grammar. I scanned the syllabus to see what I'd be teaching for the semester and realized it's the same writing course I taught at the graduate school in Shenzhen. What really surprised me was that the writing textbook is the same as the one I used in China, though I think it's a newer edition. I just have to hope that the newer edition has updated and more interesting sample essays. In the event that the textbook really isn't updated, I do still have some resources to substitute into the course.

At least I'm familiar with the material and should have an easy time planning for class in the fall.

Things I Miss About Shenzhen (5)

Lychees!

I'm reminded of lychee season (though it usually starts in early June), and I really miss seeing them for sale on almost every corner of Shenzhen. Plus, there was the crowd around the lychees at Carrefour, which prompted me to avoid shopping at peak hours (which was almost anytime of day).

It's possible to get lychees, and other tropical Asian fruit, here in Jersey City, but it's prohibitively expensive. The cheapest I've seen is $5 for a pound. Fortunately, I took a trip to Chinatown and found lychees at a more reasonable price of $2 per pound. They're definitely not as good as they were in Shenzhen--the pits are larger in the varieties sold here and they're not as sweet.

I was tempted to make some lychee sangria like I did in Shenzhen, but that would require me to not eat all the lychees I bought. I also enjoyed making the sangria with dragon fruit, which is much more expensive in the US than in Asia (usually $5 for one).

On the bright side, I don't have to deal with the extreme heat and humidity of Shenzhen this time of year, which is worsened by the nonstop rain.

The Guards

I still dream of returning to Bali. It was too beautiful and friendly to forget, and four days was not nearly enough time to enjoy it. One of my favorite things around Bali (besides the beautiful views) was the sculptures--the Hindu influence around the island is amazing.

This temple guard was photographed at Ubud Palace. Our tour guide didn't know what to call it. He did, however, explain that its purpose depends on the color of the cloth that is wrapped around it (I think black and white means it's a destroyer, but I don't remember what any other colors mean). When we visited Tegalalang, Jia convinced me to purchase a colorfully-painted wooden temple guard for $7.