Getting Organized

Recently I’ve been spending a lot of my free time preparing for China. No, not in a directly useful way, like packing or applying for a visa (don’t worry, I’m getting on those…). [Edit: Visa application is now in the mail!] Instead, I’ve been discovering a lot of internet and electronic applications that will hopefully enhance my time in China. Since I don’t really have much else to write about at the moment, and these ideas may possibly be of interest to current or future Light Fellows/travelers to China, here they are, in no particular order. (Also note – I don’t really have any concept of which of these tools will work in China. If anyone reading this from China knows, let me know!)

www.rememberthemilk.com - This is a website that allows you to create to-do lists. You can sort, tag, and prioritize tasks. Besides being a useful tool for making life more organized in general (something I could definitely use), I think this website will be extremely helpful to me both in the process of getting ready for China, and once I am living there. I’ve never packed a year’s worth of belongings into a couple suitcases before, and I think it’s going to be a pretty daunting task, so I’ve got a running list of things I’ll need to pack (and buy), as well as a list of things to take care of before I leave. With only about ten days at home in August before I leave, I’m hoping this website will help remove stress from the process and give me as much free time as possible to relax and visit with people before leaving. I’ve also got lists for ideas of things I want to do and people I want to meet up with while in China, and I’m sure I’ll use it to keep track of coursework once IUP starts. Let’s hope this website is not blocked! (Or that Yale VPN does its job.)

New York Times China Page - I like to read China-related news articles with some frequency. So far, the New York Times China page has been my favorite source, as I think it provides a nice balance between larger news stories about Chinese political events and economic trends, and interesting smaller-scale stories about individuals or particular social and cultural phenomena. If anyone has any recommendations for other sources of Chinese news, please share!

iPod applications – For five dollars, I just updated my first generation iPod touch to iOS 3, an operating system which allows it to run many of the same apps available for iPhone. Browsing through the iPhone application store, there are tons of free or inexpensive applications that will be will likely prove extremely useful next year. Most notably, there are lots of free Chinese-English dictionaries. Some even allow the user to search for a character by drawing it, though I have not found this particular functionality for free yet. The free dictionary I like the best is Pleco, though I’m sure there are many other great ones. All of these dictionaries work offline. I think Pleco will prove invaluable. Other potentially useful or fun China-related apps I’ve found include maps of Chinese cities and subway systems, guide books (Lonely Planet has a Beijing one for $5 or $6 which I’m considering, as it would greatly lighten my load on outings), and even an app which allows the user to download unlimited Chinese music for free (拉手音乐), although that app is entirely in Chinese. Again, further suggestions welcome!

www.renren.com - 人人网 is basically the Chinese equivalent of facebook. I made an account for myself (瑞秀晴 – add me!) so that I’ll have a way to keep track of and stay in touch with my Chinese acquaintances next year. Even if you’re only doing a summer program, most of your teachers will probably have a 人人 account, if they’re not already on facebook.

…Kindle? – I’ve been considering putting some of my summer earnings towards purchasing a Kindle or other eReader for next year. I don’t particularly savor the idea of lugging a ton of books with me to China, nor do I want to pay through the roof for English language books at some specialty store in Beijing. (Of course, an eReader is more expensive, but it has worthy long-term attributes…) A Kindle or other eReader would give me the ability to easily access almost any book I could want to next year (a kind of substitute for Sterling Memorial? …maybe not quite), including electronic math or computer science textbooks, so I don’t forget everything I’ve learned in my major thus far. And without the normal Yale academic courseload, I might have time to tackle some of the larger classics that I hope to read in my life. This would be a great use, since there is no way I am stuffing a paper copy of War and Peace into my suitcase. [I must give credit for this eReader idea to my Chinese history professor, Valerie Hansen. While we’re on the subject, I strongly recommend her fall course HIST 315, History of Traditional China to 1600.]

These are all the things I can think of at the moment. I’ll update if I remember any others later.
share on: facebook

Blog Resurrection!

After ten months of silence, this blog is (hopefully) coming back to life - thanks to the continuing generosity of the Light Fellowship, I am back for China, Round 2! Last summer, I attended the Princeton in Beijing program for an intense eight weeks. (See prior posts.) This time, I will be returning to Beijing for the entire year to attend the Inter-University Program, a Chinese language program run by UC Berkeley, on the campus of Tsinghua University. Though by now, I’m somewhat familiar with the city of Beijing, and Chinese universities in general, living in a foreign country away from home and school for such an extended time period will be a completely new experience.

It’s difficult to express fully my feelings about the upcoming year. When I think forward to the end of August when I’ll be shipping off to the mainland, I feel a jumble of thrill and terror. I’m thrilled to have this chance to just soak in Chinese language and culture for an entire year. I’m excited for the opportunity to better develop my understanding of a country and language that have already heavily influenced my life. I can’t wait for my brain to switch back into “Chinese mode” and to speak Chinese like a freshly-minted PiB graduate again. And I can’t help but fantasize a little about the many of the incredible experiences that await me in the year ahead.

At the same time, enrolling in IUP is not the same as having a greater ability in Chinese language, meaningful cultural experiences, engaging activities, and a social life served up and placed before me on a lazy susan. Certainly IUP will be one of many gateways to these ends, but, by and large, I believe I’ll be finding my own path next year. That I will place a great deal of effort into IUP is, in my mind, a given. But I’m sure there can be so much more to this experience than Chinese classes. Next year is, in many ways, independent of my time at Yale. I will be pursuing different activities, meeting different people, and none of the course work will appear on my transcript. When I return to Yale, I will still be a rising junior. Apart from not flunking out of IUP, I am essentially free to do what I want with the year. And there’s almost no limit to what that may entail. To misuse a term from The Tao of Pooh, next year is somewhat like the “uncarved block.” The fact that I not only have total freedom to carve that block in whatever way I desire, but also feel compelled to do so in a meaningful and satisfying way, is perhaps the greatest source of my excitement and anxiety about the upcoming year. Reading the blog posts and final reports of previous or current Light Fellows at IUP who have all found unique and interesting ways of “carving their blocks,” whether through musical collaboration, speech competitions, social activism, or something else, has inspired me to think seriously about how I would like to spend my time in China.

Admittedly, one other nontrivial source of anxiety is the prospect of leaving home, family, friends, and school. I’ve never had problems with homesickness, but I’ve never been away for so long, so far away. Part of me wishes I could freeze time back at home while I’m away, keeping the rest of the world from moving on without me. I’d like, at the end of an exhilarating year, to return to find the people, places, and things in my life exactly as I’d left them. But alas, this is not A Wrinkle in Time. A year for me is a year for everyone else, and I can only hope things will pick up as they left off. While I am loath to face the fact that the best of my friends will be graduating in 2012, and I in 2013, I think returning to Yale with a fresh perspective and motivation to branch out will, in the long run, only be positive. The conventional wisdom seems to be that, in the end, no one regrets taking a year off for this sort of experience. Despite my apprehensions, I am hopeful my experience will be no exception.

After writing the bulk of this post, I realize there’s a very important question I have neglected to address: “Why?” That is, why am I going to China? Why am I, for almost ten months, leaving a life in which I am generally comfortable and happy, for a life in which the only certainty is smoggy skies and 100-plus characters a night? I wish there were a simple answer to this. I wish I could say “because I need to learn Chinese to do X,” where X is some specific, concrete goal. Unfortunately, I can’t state my reasons for this decision in such simple terms. For me, it is an amalgam of factors – a passion for Chinese language and culture, a thirst for new experiences, an unwillingness to pass up this rare opportunity (thank you Light!), and a general sense of optimism that I will eventually discover what “X” is for me.

I’m sorry if it seems this post is boringly unspecific and filled with empty platitudes concerning my thoughts about going abroad next year. Future posts, if they exist (see following paragraph), should focus more on my experiences in China as they happen, which, hopefully, will be more interesting and specific.

One final note about me and blogging. I am miserable at it. I feel compelled to admit I have always had a low batting average with journals, diaries, blogs, etc. That said, I do very much wish to keep up with this blog this year. I don’t view blogging as only a way to preserve and share my experiences with others, worthy as these things are on their own. I think the very act of writing and reflecting on my personal experiences or feelings will help me become more aware of them, which will be helpful in making the most out of my time in China. I want to keep up with this blog, even if means relatively short posts. I think frequent short posts would be more beneficial than longer more infrequent posts, and certainly better than none at all. I invite all readers to badger me for new posts if this blog goes silent for a period.

Thanks for reading!

Yours truly,
Rachel
share on: facebook

Final Report

In Princeton in Beijing Third Year, there were 39 students and 15 teachers, a fairly incredible ratio.  Classes started every day at the early hour of 7:30 A.M. – “Chinese style,” according to Zhou Laoshi, PiB’s much-venerated director. There were four fifty-minute classes, separated by two ten-minute and one twenty-minute break. The first two classes were “大班”(“big class”) with eight students and one teacher.  In these classes, we’d learn and practice new grammar and vocabulary from the day’s chapter.  Then in “小班”(“little class”), with four students and one teacher, we’d review the material covered in 大班 and go on to discuss the material with our freshly learned vocabulary.  Teachers rotated every day, and “大班”/”小班” classmates were shuffled weekly.

 

Discussion was often quite interesting, as our textbooks (all written by Zhou Laoshi), delved into all sorts of topics concerning modern China.  We discussed such disparate topics as single-use products (“一次性产品”) and the environment, China’s one child policy, names for foreigners in China (and the historical reasons for these names), increasing consumerism among China’s youth, and the growing presence of American fast food (“样快餐”).

 

By the time class let out at 11:30, my brains were usually more fried than 油条 (fried dough sticks – a delicious staple of Chinese breakfast.)  I found class exhausting, and not just because of the early hour.  The problem I had was forcing myself to pay rapt attention for the four fifty-minute stretches.  In classes where English is the primary language, zoning out for short periods is usually not a big problem, as I find my brain has a way of sub-consciously following along while I pay a visit to La-La Land, so that when I snap back, it doesn’t take too long to get back on track.  Unfortunately, my ability to do this trick is rather underdeveloped when it comes to Chinese.  I found that not getting lost in class required quite a bit of conscious effort.  The problem wasn’t only that getting back on track might take several minutes, but that the odds of getting called on in the mean time were also quite good.  In spite of the frustration of trying to pay attention for such long stretches and the frequent embarrassment of having no clue how to respond to a question, reviewing the material after class, I often discovered that I had absorbed much more than I’d realized.  Another thing I discovered was that this problem seemed to lessen as time went on.  As my listening comprehension improved, so too did my ability to follow along and participate in class.

 

On the bright side, meals could be as fun as class was difficult. Twice a week we had “中文桌子” (Chinese table), a meal with a teacher and one or two other students, at a restaurant of our choosing, paid for by PiB. This was, for many reasons, my favorite part of the PiB program. Chinese table not only allowed us to have free and relaxed conversation with our teachers, but also gave us the opportunity to further familiarize ourselves with Chinese culinary customs. On one occasion, a classmate with whom I was to have Chinese table wanted to try dog meat. I was curious myself, so we asked our teacher for that meal where we could eat dog. She seemed a little surprised by our request at first, but agreed to take us to a hotpot place nearby that she knew to serve dog. While not every Chinese table experience was this extreme, I’d often be introduced to new dishes by virtue of the fact that that dish was a teacher’s favorite. Because of the informal nature of Chinese tables, they were a great opportunity to ask our teachers all sorts of questions. I remember discussing things from the typical experience of Chinese college students, to the concept of “hot” and “cool” in Chinese cooking. I think one of the most fun Chinese table conversations I had the entire summer involved learning what sounds Chinese uses to represent animal sounds, and, of course, sharing with our teacher the English counterpart.

 

In general, I felt PiB offered a rich learning environment, in no small part because of the endless opportunities to interact with our teachers. Apart from Chinese table, we had “个别谈话,” individual sessions with a teacher, in the afternoon. The wonderful thing about this time was that after the first week or so, we were allowed to use this hour more or less in any way we wanted. Sometimes, I would use this time to review the day’s lesson, but more often than not, this time was spent discussing issues particular to Chinese society, culture, and history. In particular, I spent a lot of time discussing with my teachers issues of free speech and openness. I was surprised to find that, in this setting, my teachers seemed comfortable discussing all sorts of topics – Mao, the Olympics, Taiwan, the Tiananmen Square events of 1989, etc. – and, moreover, that each seemed to have very individualistic view points that did not necessarily mirror government mantra. I will never forget the conversation I had with one teacher in particular about Mao Zedong. Even though this teacher was too young to have lived while Mao was in power, she had, through independent reading and research, learned of the countless atrocities and deaths caused by his reign, and therefore concluded he was a truly evil and scary person. Particularly because this view of history is not taught in schools in China, this teacher’s independence of mind left me deeply impressed.

 

Apart from our teachers, the language pledge was almost certainly the most important aspect of learning at PiB. My initial fear of not being able to speak English bringing me to complete silence turned out to be unfounded. In fact, the language pledge, if anything, made speaking Chinese easier for me. While learning Chinese at Yale, I frequently felt uncomfortable using Chinese to communicate. Perhaps I felt that, because I had the option of speaking English, choosing to speak Chinese instead and making mistakes was embarrassing. Under the language pledge, I figured no one could hold this against me. So in a sense, the language pledge freed me of this irrational inhibition. My other major fear, that the language pledge would mean living two months without meaningful conversation, was only in some ways unfounded. On the one hand, with such rudimentary communication skills, it seemed hard to show any personality, and many of my attempts at joking seemed to fall completely flat. I would liken the experience to talking in instant messages. Not being able to attain that highest level of nuanced communication often felt frustrating and a bit lonely. On the other hand, the content and level of conversation, after the first few weeks, was no longer limited to simple matters like food or weather. Discussing ideas, telling stories, and even debating, all became feasible. Life under the language pledge was not without rewarding conversation.

 

PiB has, not unjustifiably, a reputation for its intensity. I was a little concerned about this going into the program, and indeed the workload was quite heavy. At times it felt impossible to master such large volumes of material in such short periods of time. I think that in some ways, though, this may be the best way to learn Chinese. While it may have been impossible for me to fully meet the high expectations of third year PiB – to remember all the vocabulary, characters, and grammar structures – I think I gained a lot by trying. Lest I make PiB sound like a labor camp, I should say that life at PiB was actually quite pleasant. While weekdays were essentially dedicated to academic work, after a while I developed a routine, which allowed me to work more efficiently and sometimes find a bit of free time during the week. Additionally, weekends were blissfully free to relax and explore Beijing. To any future Light Fellows, I wholeheartedly recommend Princeton in Beijing. This program is well worth the effort.

share on: facebook

Shanghai

Blog-related notes: This post is a little out of date, but I’ll be posting an entry about my first week at PIB soon. Also, I have thus far been able to read comments left on this blog, but sadly I have been unable to reply to them. If I don’t reply, it’s not because I’m snubbing you or am uninterested in your comments – in fact, I enjoy reading them immensely, and they make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Finally, I will probably post some photos on this blog soon (once I have my photos organized), but in the meantime, you can still view my photos on http://picasaweb.google.com/DeepThought0042

 

Since writing the last post, Kenny and I have spent several days in Shanghai. Currently we are on an overnight train returning to Beijing, as I have to arrive at my program the day after tomorrow.

I have to admit, Shanghai exceeded my expectations. When I visited the city two years ago with my high school tour group, the primary activity was shopping on East Nanjing Street. Spending almost five days in Shanghai this time around, I think I managed to get a fuller sense of the city by exploring both the old and the new.

On the first night, Kenny and I went to the Shanghai Chabad house for Shabbat dinner, in search of good food and good company, and perhaps to experience Judaism from a different perspective than that of our reform/secular upbringing. We certainly found all three. The food was not only delicious, but also (and I’m a little ashamed to say it) a refreshing break from a steady diet of oily Chinese food. The religious experience was different, to say the least, but I won’t go in to detail, as I think it is a little off-topic. We met several interesting people, including a fellow Yalie doing the Bulldogs in Shanghai internship (small world!). Because we were enjoying conversation with the two guys at our table, Josh and Yee, we decided to meet up two days later for Sunday brunch at the Westin hotel, which, according to Yee, is somewhat of a hallowed Shanghai tradition (at least among foreigners and Shanghai’s wealthier clientele.)

At the Westin hotel, we passed over the 400 RMB brunch downstairs (unlimited steak, lobster, champagne, etc.) for the “cheaper” brunch upstairs at about a quarter the price. This brunch was unlimited Chinese, Japanese, and Thai food, so we ordered about 30 or 40 dishes, each dish being only three or four bites worth of food. Baozi, dumplings, noodles, sushi, congee, squid, century egg, chicken feet, coconut soup, anything you could imagine, filled the top of our table with the span of about five minutes. But when we waddled out of the Westin about two hours later, Yee was not finished with his tour of Shanghai’s upper crust.

The next stop was across the Huangpu River in the glitzy skyscraper side of town known as the Pudong. We first walked along the riverside, taking in views of the Puxi, the older side of town where we had just come from, and of the boats streaming by in all directions. Then we headed over towards two of the tallest skyscrapers in the world (ranked #3 and #4, I think), to get a bird’s eye view of Shanghai. The first skyscraper was the Jinmao, 87 floors tall (I think), high enough to dwarf the tallest skyscraper in almost any other city. Yet overshadowing it only a block away was the even taller World Financial Center, vanishing into the clouds at 114 stories – for Albany readers, that’s about the height of two Corning towers stacked on top of one another!

To get to the observation decks of either of these buildings costs about 150 RMB, so instead we took elevators to the second-to-highest floors in each, and loitered for a bit in the fancy bars and restaurants on these floors for free bird’s-eye view of Shanghai. At Yee’s insistence, we checked out the bathrooms at the top of the World Financial Center. I’d never thought about it before, but if a toilet could be pimped out, what we found in those restrooms would surely be it – automated lid opener, heated seats, rear washer and dryer, and other features you would only expect to find in the USS Enterprise or similarly futuristic vessel. If I were a little braver, I might have tried some of the features out, but alas, I’ll have to settle with the assumption that the buttons do not lie.

But even cooler technology was to follow. After our unofficial tour of the Pudong skyscrapers, we took the subway to the beginning of the Maglev train line. After purchasing two round trip tickets to the Pudong International Airport, we boarded the Maglev train and took off. As the train accelerated, we watched the digital speedometer rise steadily, finally hitting a peak of 301 km/hr. It was incredible to think that we could travel 20 miles in the span of eight minutes. Apparently if we’d arrived earlier in the day, the train would have hit 430 km/hr.

In the following days, we explored the older parts of Shanghai, including the French Concession and the old Jewish quarters of the city at Ohel Moishe Synagogue. During World War II, Shanghai was one of the few places in the world to accept Jews fleeing from Europe, so a sizable Jewish population grew there, establishing their own synagogues, neighborhoods, and newspapers. Interestingly, the Jews were largely spared during Japan’s invasion (although they were forced to live in ghettoes), and only left in large numbers when the uncertainties of the Cultural Revolution came, years later. It was fascinating to see the place where these Jews had lived and worshipped, and to see such striking photos as Jewish women preparing Shabbat dinner in a wok.

I am sad to see such a fun and exciting vacation come to an end, yet I cannot wait for PiB to begin. I’m sure my feelings may be slightly different once I am in the midst of memorizing hundreds of characters and writing essays, but perhaps I feel the same kind of excitement I always get at the beginning of a fresh school year. I’m looking forward to embarking upon a new challenge, making new friends, and, hopefully, having a real sense of accomplishment when it is all over. I’m sure there is an appropriate French (or Chinese?) phrase to throw in at this point, but unfortunately, I cannot think of it. Wish me luck, and I’ll keep you all posted on my progress throughout the summer!

 

~Rachel

share on: facebook

From One Capital to the Next

Note: This entry is particularly long because it covers my first five days in China, so I've broken it up into sections. Everything is still chronological. Also, I apologize for any formatting issues as I'm not posting directly onto the blog.

到北京 (Arrival in Beijing)

            Kenny and I arrived in Beijing on Friday June 5, and, upon leaving the airport, boarded a cab to our hotel. Immediately, my Chinese skills were put to the test. Our taxi driver had never heard of our hotel, nor the street it was on. I explained it was on a street to the east of Tiananmen but to the west of Wangfujing (a big shopping street.) That got us most of the way there. The ride was exciting, and a little scary. I'd almost forgotten the crazy driving customs (or lack thereof) found in china. Cars swerve left and right without signaling, and lanes (as well as turn signals) are reduced to mere suggestions. Pedestrians and bicyclists also seem to be regarded as obstacles – things to be navigated around as efficiently (and with as little margin) as possible. I have yet to figure out the safest mode of transportation…

            The rest of our stay in Beijing was a mix of street wandering, tourist sites, and culinary delights (I have now tasted donkey and ox tendon). The first night, in an attempt to avoid falling asleep at 4 PM China time, we walked around the Wangfujing shopping area, just a block from our hotel. Two things strike me about shopping and advertisements in China. The first is the use of bright, unmuted colors. Who would have thought bright pink awnings would make someone want to buy snacks or a book? But the more I see of these colorful storefronts with their crayola-colored goods, the more I am drawn to them. I will have to watch my pocketbook. The other thing I've noticed is the preponderance of tiny shops that all sell identical products, be it bottled drinks or battery-powered stuffed lions and donkeys that wobble and shake violently in their shoes. Perhaps this is an example of a market in which there is perfect competition?

万里长城 (The Great Wall)

            After Kenny and I were relatively adjusted to the time difference, we took a trip to the Great Wall. Because I had been to Simatai two years previously, we decided to see the portion of the Great Wall at the newly opened Mutianyu site. Mutianyu is a much easier climb than Simatai because the steps have been paved over with relatively even black tiles of tar and you can take a cable car part-way up the mountain (or a toboggan down the mountain, if you are so inclined). These additions made the experience seem somewhat less authentic, but the landscape was absolutely gorgeous. I'm glad I got to see both sites, because they are very different, but worthwhile experiences.

到南京 (Arrival in Nanjing)

            On Monday, we left Beijing for a new city. After nixing Chengdu and Guilin (too far/expensive and too rainy, respectively), we decided on Nanjing, which is only a short three hour ride from our final destination, Shanghai. Our arrival in Nanjing was a little stressful, due to the last-minute nature of the decision. The people at the elong.com stand (the Chinese version of expedia) helped me get a near-budget price for a room at a three star hotel in a bustling part of town called 夫子庙 (fuzimiao). (Side note: If you're ever at an airport in China and in need of a hotel, talk to these guys – they're really helpful! Just be prepared to use your Chinese, and they'll haggle with the hotel for you until you have a decent price.)

Crazy Taxi!

Perhaps it was the relief of having found a place to sleep for the night, or perhaps it was just sheer stupidity, but, having decided to splurge an extra 20RMB for a taxi instead of the bus, we stepped up to the nearest available taxi. This taxi was inevitably not one of the licensed and reputable taxis waiting in line, just a few yards behind us. I only realized my mistake once our suitcases were in the trunk and we were seated, but again, I was too naïve to assert myself and get out of the taxi. And so, the scariest taxi ride of my life ensued. Once the driver convinced me not to use the fare meter (打表) and instead accept a ridiculously inflated flat rate (a tell-tale sign that you are being ripped off, by the way) he began to drive like a mad man, speeding down a deserted and unlit road off of the highway, running just about every red light, and even bypassing an entire toll booth. To make matters worse, he was talking madly on his cell phone in a dialect I had no prayer of understanding, to people that I could only assume were a part of the scam. At one point, he even rolled down the window to talk to some of his colleagues, who were standing by a taxi parked in the middle of the road. I recognized only one word of their conversation – 打表. In the end, we arrived safely at our hotel and paid him the exorbitant fee. By that point, Kenny and I didn't even care about the money. We were just glad to be alive, have all of our stuff, and be out of the taxi. It was a truly terrifying experience, not knowing where we were going, and not knowing if our driver merely intended to rip us off, or if he and his partners in crime had something worse in store.

I hate to make this blog overly preachy or advice-ridden, but I feel that if anyone can learn from my experience without making the same mistake, it's worth it. So my advice is as follows: If you're at an airport, look for the official line of taxis. Even if the driver has not come up to you to try to take your luggage, if they're waiting out of line, they're probably not legitimate. Also, look for identification on the dashboard. (Side story: the next day, I wound up with a female cab driver whose poor attempts at covering the ID on the dashboard concealed only half a masculine face. I have no idea what that was about, but at least she was willing to use the meter.) Finally, don't be afraid or embarrassed to change your mind if you think you've gotten into a disreputable cab. You can always tell the driver you have no money, and he should immediately lose interest in you.

Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall

During our first full day in Nanjing, we went to the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall. Its look and feel was strongly reminiscent of Holocaust museums I've been to in the United States, but I felt there was a subtle difference. I think that a good memorial museum ought to try to present facts in as unbiased a way as possible, and let those facts speak for themselves, allowing viewers to draw their own conclusions. This museum seemed to push viewers simultaneously towards a hatred of the Japanese, and a patriotic love of China, by using words like "tenacious" to describe the Chinese, and words like "wanton," "evil," and "whiskers," to describe the Japanese. I'm not saying that one ought not describe the actions of many Japanese soldiers during the rape of Nanjing as thoroughly morally reprehensible, but I think it makes more of an impact to let the viewer come to such conclusions on one's own. The capstone to all this was the final display with a quotation about the importance of "patriotic education" for today's youth of China. To be fair, perhaps western memorial museums have the same kind of bias, but I just don't notice it because it is, not coincidentally, already in alignment with my world beliefs. I will have to wait to wait to return to the US before I can make a fair comparison.

说中文 (Speaking Chinese)

As a large purpose of this blog is to informally track the progress of my Chinese, I'll make a few observations about my communication skills as they stand now. I have been relatively pleased with my ability to convey thoughts, questions, and needs, and to be understood by most people. For most things that I would like to say, I am able to find a way, even if it involves some ineloquent work-arounds. On the other hand, I have great difficulty in understanding the replies. I think that whenever I initiate conversations in Chinese, the person I am talking to assumes my level of Chinese is much higher than it actually is. The results in a lot of 'dui bu qi's, 'bu dong's, 'bu ming bai's, and 'shuo shenme?'s. Many conversations are almost 20 questions-like, with me asking questions that attempt to elicit simple "dui" or "bu dui"-type answers. (Yes-no answers.) I'm sure these frequent, real-world conversations are helping my Chinese, but I think the pace will accelerate greatly once I am at PiB and studying the language formally under a language pledge, in addition to these street conversations.

照片 (Photographs)

            Since I'm updating this blog via email, and it seems I'm currently unable to email photos, it looks like I'll have to figure out another way to post photos in blog entries. In the mean time, I'm uploading photos to this website:

http://picasaweb.google.com/DeepThought0042

 

That's all for now!

 

~Rachel

share on: facebook

Test

I've heard that blogger.com has recently been blocked again in China
(within the past week or so), so I'm testing an alternative method of
posting to this blog - via email! If any other Light Fellows going to
China are reading this post and have blogs on blogger.com, you can try
this out under Settings --> Email & Mobile. I'm also testing my
ability to post photos. (If it works, this photo will have nothing to
do with China.) That's it for now - leaving tomorrow morning!
share on: facebook

Pre-departure

Hello! My name is 瑞秀晴 (Rui4 Xiu4 Qing2), but you can call me by my English name, Rachel. I am a freshman (well, almost sophomore) at Yale University and, thanks to the generosity of the Richard U. Light Fellowship, I will be studying Mandarin Chinese with the Princeton in Beijing (PiB) program on the campus of Beijing Normal University (北师大) this summer. During this time, I plan to update this blog at least once a week (if I don't get lazy) with stories, thoughts, and hopefully some pictures.

I'm leaving for Beijing this Thursday, June 4. PiB doesn't start until June 19, but I'm going early to do some traveling. Kenny, my older brother, is coming along for this part of the trip. We have reservations at a hotel in Beijing for three nights, and are planning to go to Chengdu and Shanghai, but all the other details remain to be worked out - or improvised, as the case may be. This trip to China is going to be very different from the one I took in eleventh grade with my high school classmates. There won't be any tour company telling me what sites I'm going to see, which tour bus to get on, or even where I'm sleeping for the night. There are benefits to that kind of luxury, but it's not the kind of experience I want this time around. For me, there's kind of a high that comes with figuring stuff out on my own, like the feeling I had when I navigated the New York City subway by myself for the first time, or hailed my first taxi. I think this trip will bear many experiences of just this sort. Of course, I'm a little nervous about this kind of self-reliance, too. Will my Chinese be good enough to book train tickets? As a conspicuous foreigner, how can I ensure I won't be scammed or pick-pocketed? Will we be able to find a place to stay every night? Perhaps at least some of these uncertainties are just another part of the excitement.

When the two weeks are up, I will head back to Beijing for the start of PiB. In some ways, I'm more nervous about this program than the traveling beforehand. I'm trying not to let PiB's reputation (you know, "Prison in Beijing") get to me too much. I received one of my textbooks, "All Things Considered," in the mail several weeks ago. While its size is formidable, the content looks interesting and possibly even funny (in a Chinese textbook kind of way). The first time I opened it, I flipped past a chapter entitled something like "总统有了一个女朋友,” which roughly translates to "The President has a girlfriend." Even though I know an extraordinarily large amount of work lies ahead, I'm excited for all that I'll be learning and experiencing in those eight weeks. I'm pumped for the marathon.

share on: facebook