It's beginning to look a lot like China
I’ve been really lazy about blogging lately, but before things get too out of hand, I’ll write down some of my thoughts. I originally intended to keep a separate, traditional journal of my time here in China, but because I used this blog so often the first few weeks, I abandoned the idea of a separate journal, but since I have been relatively inactive here as well as of late, my time here is currently passing by unrecorded and without much reflection. That said, I do hope to be more diligent in writing, as I do think I’m learning a lot from being here.
I’ll start out with a few cultural observations and then let you know what’s been happening in my day-to-day life.
Teaching has been going well the past several weeks, and in fact I have only about two more weeks of instruction, followed by a movie week, a review week, and then final exams. Right before final exams I’ll have a break of a few days, during which time I am planning on visiting my friend, Ellen, from Vanderbilt who will happen to be in Beijing on an orchestral tour during those few days off. Then a certain Tyler Harlan may or may not come visit, and perhaps we’ll visit the Ice Festival in Harbin in northern China, and/or head somewhere further south to escape the increasingly bitter cold. It snowed a bit yesterday and today, but nothing substantial. The temperatures have hovered around freezing for the past couple of days, but what makes it really cold is the fierce wind that blows off of the ocean. During storms the winds are at least 30 mph, but even on nicer days they can be pretty strong and bone-chilling.
Anyhow, back to classes. As I alluded to in an earlier post, sometimes I mold part of my instruction to help me learn more about China and the national conscience. Though I originally intended to avoid the topics of Japanese reconciliation from WWII and the independence movement in Taiwan, I decided to address the issues in class after several students requested it at the beginning of the year. I’ve already written a little about Chinese feelings toward Japan, but allow me to expand a bit upon the subject. Japan committed some pretty terrible acts on Chinese citizens during WWII (much as every country does during war, though these were particularly heinous), but whereas many Americans seem to have forgiven the Japanese for their aggression during the war, the idea of forgiveness and moving on seems pretty much incomprehensible in China. I brought up the topic around the time of Thanksgiving as a way to tie in the issue of reparations to Native Americans and ancestors of slaves to a more salient debate, namely Japanese reparations to the Chinese. I outlined a few factors always discussed amid such debate (guilt/culpability of current generation as opposed to those that committed the initial acts, fairness to a generation not wholly responsible, deservedness of ancestors in receiving reparations as opposed to those who were more directly affected, role of government versus private individuals, etc.), but nothing could move my students from their position that Japan must pay reparations before they could once again enjoy hospitable relations with the mainland. I then posed the following situation: perhaps Japan never pays reparations (which is their current stance, based on treaties they argue free them of paying war reparations to the Chinese; Chinese argue, on the other hand, that these treaties only free the Japanese government from responsibility to the Chinese government, and not to individual citizens; whatever the case, there is no real dialogue at the moment). If China were to forgive Japan nonetheless and establish normal relations with the country, would this be a mature step, or one that would indicate giving in without proper recompense? Unanimously, my students opposed any such move and agreed that no amount of time would heal the wounds without a formal declaration of apology and the payment of reparations from the Chinese. Not even 500 or 1000 years without such actions would rectify the deeds. Even outside of the classroom, I am constantly confronted by this very negative perception of Japan. Students casually talk about their hatred of Japan when we go out for lunch, but they never really seem to be able to articulate any substantial reasons why. It must be hard to be a Japanese student or teacher living in Chinese, particularly in a country whose citizens seem to offer no free forgiveness. While I am cautious of labeling the whole country as such, the sentiment is so strong, especially in this area, where many of the crimes were committed, that I feel relatively justified in doing so.
The week before I discussed Japan, I had tackled the even more sensitive issue of Taiwan (I have since decided that I will save discussion of any additional political topics for next semester). Because we were studying persuasive writing in a couple of my classes, I introduced the importance of addressing and weakening some of the major arguments of one’s opponent. Otherwise, two sides end up arguing two separate cases with no real reflection, and as long as the points offered in both are valid, the undecided audience is left with making a decision no less easy than before the (sometimes heated) debate began. Knowing that all of my students would have the same opinion about Taiwan, I at least wanted them to be aware that others do not share their opinions. And even though I framed the presentation of the alternative arguments as a way to strengthen their arguments, my alternative intentions were to help them think more deeply about the issue. So, if they were going to have one opinion, at least they would have thought about it more deeply and have become better able to articulate it.
First I had them list the reasons why Taiwan should not be independent of the mainland; they had trouble coming up with anything other than its historical relations as part of China, and while this is a valid argument, it is not particularly convincing in a world where at least a few countries a year, especially those in Africa, seem to substantially change their governments and in essence become almost completely different countries. As soon as I asked for students to brainstorm reasons why others might argue for Taiwanese independence, one student stood up and demanded that we change topics, stating that, “There is no discussion”. Mind you, I wasn’t offering arguments for independence in hopes of trying to get them to change their opinions, and I made this clear before I even began the lesson. Rather, I framed it completely as a way to make their opinions seem more valid. If anything, I was instructing them on how to strengthen their opposition to Taiwanese independence, not weaken it. Flabbergasted, I quickly assigned an in-class essay while I fumed at the front of the class. At first I thought I had handed the situation horribly for allowing my authority in the classroom to be undermined, but I actually think I handled it pretty well now. Having them write the essay gave me some time to prepare how to respond to the students at the end of class; I told them that I had in no way meant to offend anyone, and that I had simply been using the topic as a framework for writing persuasively, though in the future I wouldn’t tolerate interrupting class for reasons like the one that interrupted it that day, and I later spoke to the student individually (he was quite embarrassed, in fact). I told them it was fine to have whatever opinion they have, but I would not allow my classroom to be used for tirades against a person, group of people, or country. When some students at the beginning of the semester requested that we discuss Taiwan, perhaps what they meant was a discussion of one side only, but I made it clear that this is not how my class will operate.
Even though I handled the situation relatively well, I was still concerned about what might be reported to my higher-ups. Students have a surprising amount of control in the classrooms here: all they have to do is complain to the dean, whatever the issue may be; the dean says a word to the teacher; and the teacher, not the student, is expected to change whatever caused the unhappiness or disagreement. Some of the other teachers have even been forced to stop assigning homework to classes because the students complained to the dean that they did not want to do it. While the teacher was still required to plan classes each week, the students were freed from their end of the contract and no longer had any responsibility outside of showing up for class. Aware of such information, I was nervous of what might be reported about me, and I didn’t sleep well for the first couple of days and week after the confrontation, but it appears that everything has passed over without any trouble. What really is unfortunate is that the class had been my favorite, and I had even been fond of the student who had been unable to control his opinions and emotions, but now it is difficult to think of the class without thinking of the “incident”. I am thankful that it happened relatively late in the semester, as my confidence in the classroom was affected, particularly with this class, but I will be able to start anew next semester.
Anyhow, the issue gave me the opportunity to reflect on differences between the American and Chinese educational systems. I think it is dangerous to always be on the lookout for differences between countries, especially if you are living in another country for a relatively long period of time, as it can make your time there really negative and prevent you from integrating into the local culture and really enjoying what the country has to offer. It happened in Germany for a time, and I have been cautious not to focus too strongly on differences, particularly unfavorable ones, in China. Still, at times it is unavoidable, particularly after moments of great frustration.
Freedom of Speech. Freedom of the Press. They’re wonderful, and I take them for granted in America. Though the press may cover ludicrous stories (see CNN’s recent obsession with everything pop culture, and FOX News’s obsession with everything untrue), they’re free to cover them under US law. And while I would like to see some more control on FOX’s propensity to distort facts and tout lies, I recognize that the introduction of controls is a slippery slope (as much as I hate the phrase) and is probably best avoided. Beijing recently announced that foreign journalists would be allowed to travel and write freely during the 2008 Olympics, though this freedom will be only temporary and will be curtailed in conjunction with the closing of the Games. Freedom of the Press is simply nonexistent here. It’s no wonder that all of my students have one opinion (though some of them do seem to be aware that everything they read is highly slanted). It’s also no wonder that plagiarism is so accepted in the world of academia here. Whereas it’s punishable by expulsion in America, it is almost expected that students plagiarize the thesis that allows them to graduate from university. Advisors do not have time to guide the theses of 30 or 40 students, and reading plagiarized work in essence reduces the amount of corrections they have to make. When they are told how and what to think, the duplication of another’s work is not but a small step further. Indeed, I am handed at least a couple of pieces of substantially plagiarized work every time I collect an assignment. Why come up with one’s own opinion for something as mundane as a 5-paragraph essay when you’re not even entitled to have your own for more pressing issues like Taiwan? Why think about how another person might view a situation when you’re not free to agree with them?
Another facet in which this issue operates is in the job market upon graduation. One of my friends here has only a few unimportant classes this semester, his next to the last before he graduates, so he has decided his time would be better spent primarily in Beijing and commuting to Weihai only when he has an exam. Anyhow, the job he has now is the same one he will have when his degree makes the completion of his university education final (though in all respect, it already is). His job? Filling internet orders for Sony-Ericsson. I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a person in the US or Europe with a college diploma who desired such a job. But here, this is a job my friend feels he can’t pass up. Sure, many college graduates in China go on to find intellectually stimulating and rewarding jobs, but many end up as receptionists or factory workers, jobs reserved for the lower end of the educational spectrum in the western hemisphere. But when a college graduate in China may not, and indeed probably will not, have acquired the ability to think independently, he or she can be relatively effortlessly pushed into a job with only menial tasks, whereas in the west a graduate almost without exception will soon become unsatisfied with such work and seek something more intellectually demanding.
Well, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I’ll reflect on a few more basic elements of life here in China. I’ve said that there are about 40 or so Westerners in Weihai, and the Saturday after Thanksgiving about 15 of us gathered for a potluck dinner. I was in charge of mashed potatoes and “special drinks”, and both turned out really well, despite almost all of my previous cooking experience working against me. For the potatoes I used the last of the cheese in Wehai (I had been saving it for more than a month, though a new shipment has arrived in the past week) along with some garlic and salt and milk. For the “special drinks” I decided to produce a spiked and spiced apple cider, a decision that was made more complicated by the fact that apple cider can’t be purchased in China (at least not in Weihai). My friend Allyssa helped me throw some ingredients together (hawthorne nectar, apple juice, orange juice, lemon zest, cloves, cinnamon, orange and apple slices, and rum), and it turned out to be pretty much the best cider I’ve ever had, save for the apple cider in Illinois that a certain Benjamin Campbell introduced to me. While no turkey was had, we did have a couple of chickens. Other than that, many of the dished were not what you would normally expect for Thanksgiving, especially since only about 6 of the Westerners were American. The Kiwis brought mini pizzas and ice cream cake, while some Chinese guests brought Chinese dumplings and spicy seafood and shrimp (with the head and legs still attached). This also marked the first time that I’ve ever attended a Thanksgiving dinner at which chopsticks were used.
The Thanksgiving Spread:
A Friend Eating Thanksgiving Dinner with Chopsticks:
Then this weekend, the local five-star hotel invited some foreigners to sing Christmas carols at their annual tree-lighting ceremony. Many foreign businessmen stay at the hotel, though Christmas is becoming more popular in China in general. Basically the only requirement was that the participants have white skin, as we clearly weren’t chosen for our singing capabilities. After we sang for about five minutes, we were given a free Christmas dinner as compensation, and this dinner actually did have turkey with homemade cranberry sauce, though most of the spread was more oriented toward Chinese taste buds. After dinner we played a few games of bowling in the hotel’s bowling alley. My bowling was pretty unremarkable, though I did win one game and bowl “the spare of the century”, as one onlooker described it. I had two pins on each side of the lane, and having no hope of getting all of them, I chucked the ball down the lane with a lot of spin on it, and it hit pretty much the only place that would even give one the chance of collecting all the pins. My ball hit a pin on the right side just enough to nudge it over to the left with barely enough strength to knock down the other two pins. I’m sure I’ll never be able replicate the bowl again, and I was pretty nervous I’d roll a gutterball on my next turn to make it look even more like an accident, but luckily that didn’t happen.
The first Asian Santa I've ever seen:
Another cool thing about last night was that I might have made a new friend. Perhaps this has been one of the hardest transitions from college to working life. I am making more friends here, but the rate is pretty slow, and many of them are significantly older than me. Other than Allyssa, who also just graduated from college, my primary friends include two families in their thirties with small children, and a 35 year-old Chinese man. I have a couple of other Chinese friend that are 21 years old, but they are both moving away in a couple of months. So, I was pretty happy to learn that a 22 year-old from Australia just moved to Weihai about a week ago. Again, the unfortunate thing is that he’ll only be here two weeks on and four weeks away, as he is based in Weihai but works for a mining company and must travel a lot. Even though he’s been here for only a week, he already knew about a club in Weihai that I had not heard about, so we went there with another girl named Melidy after the bowling subsided. I went to clubs quite often in Germany, but my few attempts in Nashville after I studied abroad were quite disastrous, so I was pleasantly surprised by the club in Weihai. Granted, it wasn’t your typical European disco, as it featured a scary woman in a mask trying to persuade club-goers to interact with her (including me); a couple of solo singers when music wasn’t playing; and martial arts performers with giant fans; but the DJs and music were great, and there were enough people dancing (including me) to make it fun as well. While it wasn’t too nice to my wallet, I hope I’ll be able to spend more time there in the future.
That’s all for now. If you’ve read to the end of this post, give yourself a big pat on the back. And send me a Christmas card.
Neal Palmer
Shandong University at Weihai
Wen Xuanyuan Room 402
180 Wenhua Xilu, Weihai, P.R. China 264209
Here is another picture for your personal pleasure, from a hiking trip in Weihai a few weeks ago:
I’ll start out with a few cultural observations and then let you know what’s been happening in my day-to-day life.
Teaching has been going well the past several weeks, and in fact I have only about two more weeks of instruction, followed by a movie week, a review week, and then final exams. Right before final exams I’ll have a break of a few days, during which time I am planning on visiting my friend, Ellen, from Vanderbilt who will happen to be in Beijing on an orchestral tour during those few days off. Then a certain Tyler Harlan may or may not come visit, and perhaps we’ll visit the Ice Festival in Harbin in northern China, and/or head somewhere further south to escape the increasingly bitter cold. It snowed a bit yesterday and today, but nothing substantial. The temperatures have hovered around freezing for the past couple of days, but what makes it really cold is the fierce wind that blows off of the ocean. During storms the winds are at least 30 mph, but even on nicer days they can be pretty strong and bone-chilling.
Anyhow, back to classes. As I alluded to in an earlier post, sometimes I mold part of my instruction to help me learn more about China and the national conscience. Though I originally intended to avoid the topics of Japanese reconciliation from WWII and the independence movement in Taiwan, I decided to address the issues in class after several students requested it at the beginning of the year. I’ve already written a little about Chinese feelings toward Japan, but allow me to expand a bit upon the subject. Japan committed some pretty terrible acts on Chinese citizens during WWII (much as every country does during war, though these were particularly heinous), but whereas many Americans seem to have forgiven the Japanese for their aggression during the war, the idea of forgiveness and moving on seems pretty much incomprehensible in China. I brought up the topic around the time of Thanksgiving as a way to tie in the issue of reparations to Native Americans and ancestors of slaves to a more salient debate, namely Japanese reparations to the Chinese. I outlined a few factors always discussed amid such debate (guilt/culpability of current generation as opposed to those that committed the initial acts, fairness to a generation not wholly responsible, deservedness of ancestors in receiving reparations as opposed to those who were more directly affected, role of government versus private individuals, etc.), but nothing could move my students from their position that Japan must pay reparations before they could once again enjoy hospitable relations with the mainland. I then posed the following situation: perhaps Japan never pays reparations (which is their current stance, based on treaties they argue free them of paying war reparations to the Chinese; Chinese argue, on the other hand, that these treaties only free the Japanese government from responsibility to the Chinese government, and not to individual citizens; whatever the case, there is no real dialogue at the moment). If China were to forgive Japan nonetheless and establish normal relations with the country, would this be a mature step, or one that would indicate giving in without proper recompense? Unanimously, my students opposed any such move and agreed that no amount of time would heal the wounds without a formal declaration of apology and the payment of reparations from the Chinese. Not even 500 or 1000 years without such actions would rectify the deeds. Even outside of the classroom, I am constantly confronted by this very negative perception of Japan. Students casually talk about their hatred of Japan when we go out for lunch, but they never really seem to be able to articulate any substantial reasons why. It must be hard to be a Japanese student or teacher living in Chinese, particularly in a country whose citizens seem to offer no free forgiveness. While I am cautious of labeling the whole country as such, the sentiment is so strong, especially in this area, where many of the crimes were committed, that I feel relatively justified in doing so.
The week before I discussed Japan, I had tackled the even more sensitive issue of Taiwan (I have since decided that I will save discussion of any additional political topics for next semester). Because we were studying persuasive writing in a couple of my classes, I introduced the importance of addressing and weakening some of the major arguments of one’s opponent. Otherwise, two sides end up arguing two separate cases with no real reflection, and as long as the points offered in both are valid, the undecided audience is left with making a decision no less easy than before the (sometimes heated) debate began. Knowing that all of my students would have the same opinion about Taiwan, I at least wanted them to be aware that others do not share their opinions. And even though I framed the presentation of the alternative arguments as a way to strengthen their arguments, my alternative intentions were to help them think more deeply about the issue. So, if they were going to have one opinion, at least they would have thought about it more deeply and have become better able to articulate it.
First I had them list the reasons why Taiwan should not be independent of the mainland; they had trouble coming up with anything other than its historical relations as part of China, and while this is a valid argument, it is not particularly convincing in a world where at least a few countries a year, especially those in Africa, seem to substantially change their governments and in essence become almost completely different countries. As soon as I asked for students to brainstorm reasons why others might argue for Taiwanese independence, one student stood up and demanded that we change topics, stating that, “There is no discussion”. Mind you, I wasn’t offering arguments for independence in hopes of trying to get them to change their opinions, and I made this clear before I even began the lesson. Rather, I framed it completely as a way to make their opinions seem more valid. If anything, I was instructing them on how to strengthen their opposition to Taiwanese independence, not weaken it. Flabbergasted, I quickly assigned an in-class essay while I fumed at the front of the class. At first I thought I had handed the situation horribly for allowing my authority in the classroom to be undermined, but I actually think I handled it pretty well now. Having them write the essay gave me some time to prepare how to respond to the students at the end of class; I told them that I had in no way meant to offend anyone, and that I had simply been using the topic as a framework for writing persuasively, though in the future I wouldn’t tolerate interrupting class for reasons like the one that interrupted it that day, and I later spoke to the student individually (he was quite embarrassed, in fact). I told them it was fine to have whatever opinion they have, but I would not allow my classroom to be used for tirades against a person, group of people, or country. When some students at the beginning of the semester requested that we discuss Taiwan, perhaps what they meant was a discussion of one side only, but I made it clear that this is not how my class will operate.
Even though I handled the situation relatively well, I was still concerned about what might be reported to my higher-ups. Students have a surprising amount of control in the classrooms here: all they have to do is complain to the dean, whatever the issue may be; the dean says a word to the teacher; and the teacher, not the student, is expected to change whatever caused the unhappiness or disagreement. Some of the other teachers have even been forced to stop assigning homework to classes because the students complained to the dean that they did not want to do it. While the teacher was still required to plan classes each week, the students were freed from their end of the contract and no longer had any responsibility outside of showing up for class. Aware of such information, I was nervous of what might be reported about me, and I didn’t sleep well for the first couple of days and week after the confrontation, but it appears that everything has passed over without any trouble. What really is unfortunate is that the class had been my favorite, and I had even been fond of the student who had been unable to control his opinions and emotions, but now it is difficult to think of the class without thinking of the “incident”. I am thankful that it happened relatively late in the semester, as my confidence in the classroom was affected, particularly with this class, but I will be able to start anew next semester.
Anyhow, the issue gave me the opportunity to reflect on differences between the American and Chinese educational systems. I think it is dangerous to always be on the lookout for differences between countries, especially if you are living in another country for a relatively long period of time, as it can make your time there really negative and prevent you from integrating into the local culture and really enjoying what the country has to offer. It happened in Germany for a time, and I have been cautious not to focus too strongly on differences, particularly unfavorable ones, in China. Still, at times it is unavoidable, particularly after moments of great frustration.
Freedom of Speech. Freedom of the Press. They’re wonderful, and I take them for granted in America. Though the press may cover ludicrous stories (see CNN’s recent obsession with everything pop culture, and FOX News’s obsession with everything untrue), they’re free to cover them under US law. And while I would like to see some more control on FOX’s propensity to distort facts and tout lies, I recognize that the introduction of controls is a slippery slope (as much as I hate the phrase) and is probably best avoided. Beijing recently announced that foreign journalists would be allowed to travel and write freely during the 2008 Olympics, though this freedom will be only temporary and will be curtailed in conjunction with the closing of the Games. Freedom of the Press is simply nonexistent here. It’s no wonder that all of my students have one opinion (though some of them do seem to be aware that everything they read is highly slanted). It’s also no wonder that plagiarism is so accepted in the world of academia here. Whereas it’s punishable by expulsion in America, it is almost expected that students plagiarize the thesis that allows them to graduate from university. Advisors do not have time to guide the theses of 30 or 40 students, and reading plagiarized work in essence reduces the amount of corrections they have to make. When they are told how and what to think, the duplication of another’s work is not but a small step further. Indeed, I am handed at least a couple of pieces of substantially plagiarized work every time I collect an assignment. Why come up with one’s own opinion for something as mundane as a 5-paragraph essay when you’re not even entitled to have your own for more pressing issues like Taiwan? Why think about how another person might view a situation when you’re not free to agree with them?
Another facet in which this issue operates is in the job market upon graduation. One of my friends here has only a few unimportant classes this semester, his next to the last before he graduates, so he has decided his time would be better spent primarily in Beijing and commuting to Weihai only when he has an exam. Anyhow, the job he has now is the same one he will have when his degree makes the completion of his university education final (though in all respect, it already is). His job? Filling internet orders for Sony-Ericsson. I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a person in the US or Europe with a college diploma who desired such a job. But here, this is a job my friend feels he can’t pass up. Sure, many college graduates in China go on to find intellectually stimulating and rewarding jobs, but many end up as receptionists or factory workers, jobs reserved for the lower end of the educational spectrum in the western hemisphere. But when a college graduate in China may not, and indeed probably will not, have acquired the ability to think independently, he or she can be relatively effortlessly pushed into a job with only menial tasks, whereas in the west a graduate almost without exception will soon become unsatisfied with such work and seek something more intellectually demanding.
Well, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I’ll reflect on a few more basic elements of life here in China. I’ve said that there are about 40 or so Westerners in Weihai, and the Saturday after Thanksgiving about 15 of us gathered for a potluck dinner. I was in charge of mashed potatoes and “special drinks”, and both turned out really well, despite almost all of my previous cooking experience working against me. For the potatoes I used the last of the cheese in Wehai (I had been saving it for more than a month, though a new shipment has arrived in the past week) along with some garlic and salt and milk. For the “special drinks” I decided to produce a spiked and spiced apple cider, a decision that was made more complicated by the fact that apple cider can’t be purchased in China (at least not in Weihai). My friend Allyssa helped me throw some ingredients together (hawthorne nectar, apple juice, orange juice, lemon zest, cloves, cinnamon, orange and apple slices, and rum), and it turned out to be pretty much the best cider I’ve ever had, save for the apple cider in Illinois that a certain Benjamin Campbell introduced to me. While no turkey was had, we did have a couple of chickens. Other than that, many of the dished were not what you would normally expect for Thanksgiving, especially since only about 6 of the Westerners were American. The Kiwis brought mini pizzas and ice cream cake, while some Chinese guests brought Chinese dumplings and spicy seafood and shrimp (with the head and legs still attached). This also marked the first time that I’ve ever attended a Thanksgiving dinner at which chopsticks were used.
The Thanksgiving Spread:
A Friend Eating Thanksgiving Dinner with Chopsticks:
Then this weekend, the local five-star hotel invited some foreigners to sing Christmas carols at their annual tree-lighting ceremony. Many foreign businessmen stay at the hotel, though Christmas is becoming more popular in China in general. Basically the only requirement was that the participants have white skin, as we clearly weren’t chosen for our singing capabilities. After we sang for about five minutes, we were given a free Christmas dinner as compensation, and this dinner actually did have turkey with homemade cranberry sauce, though most of the spread was more oriented toward Chinese taste buds. After dinner we played a few games of bowling in the hotel’s bowling alley. My bowling was pretty unremarkable, though I did win one game and bowl “the spare of the century”, as one onlooker described it. I had two pins on each side of the lane, and having no hope of getting all of them, I chucked the ball down the lane with a lot of spin on it, and it hit pretty much the only place that would even give one the chance of collecting all the pins. My ball hit a pin on the right side just enough to nudge it over to the left with barely enough strength to knock down the other two pins. I’m sure I’ll never be able replicate the bowl again, and I was pretty nervous I’d roll a gutterball on my next turn to make it look even more like an accident, but luckily that didn’t happen.
The first Asian Santa I've ever seen:
Another cool thing about last night was that I might have made a new friend. Perhaps this has been one of the hardest transitions from college to working life. I am making more friends here, but the rate is pretty slow, and many of them are significantly older than me. Other than Allyssa, who also just graduated from college, my primary friends include two families in their thirties with small children, and a 35 year-old Chinese man. I have a couple of other Chinese friend that are 21 years old, but they are both moving away in a couple of months. So, I was pretty happy to learn that a 22 year-old from Australia just moved to Weihai about a week ago. Again, the unfortunate thing is that he’ll only be here two weeks on and four weeks away, as he is based in Weihai but works for a mining company and must travel a lot. Even though he’s been here for only a week, he already knew about a club in Weihai that I had not heard about, so we went there with another girl named Melidy after the bowling subsided. I went to clubs quite often in Germany, but my few attempts in Nashville after I studied abroad were quite disastrous, so I was pleasantly surprised by the club in Weihai. Granted, it wasn’t your typical European disco, as it featured a scary woman in a mask trying to persuade club-goers to interact with her (including me); a couple of solo singers when music wasn’t playing; and martial arts performers with giant fans; but the DJs and music were great, and there were enough people dancing (including me) to make it fun as well. While it wasn’t too nice to my wallet, I hope I’ll be able to spend more time there in the future.
That’s all for now. If you’ve read to the end of this post, give yourself a big pat on the back. And send me a Christmas card.
Neal Palmer
Shandong University at Weihai
Wen Xuanyuan Room 402
180 Wenhua Xilu, Weihai, P.R. China 264209
Here is another picture for your personal pleasure, from a hiking trip in Weihai a few weeks ago:
posted by Mysteries of The Orient at 11:37 AM
2 Comments:
i can't believe i missed the spare of the century!
I can't WAIT TO SEE YOU!!!!!!! What the hell. I love you 100 Things List and, as in the livejournal days of olde, it makes me want to do my own. Kurt Vonnegut and other sundry gifts will come your way, I do believe. HOORAY.
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