More to come

Ni hao, everyone!

Perhaps you've visited this site and wondered why there's been such a gap in posts.

Well, my last week of teaching in Wuhan was chaos. I needed to put together packets of my teaching materials to leave with the Wuhan English department, I was co-coordinating the program's closing ceremony, I was packing my bags and doing lots of last minute shopping, and my students took up most of the freetime I had left. Then we, the American teachers, went on a cruise down the Yangtze and a short trip to Shanghai. I had limited access to the Internet then, and so did not post.

Now, I'm back in Utah and scrambling to get ready for the fall semester--classes begin today! I promise to continue adding to this blog in the next few days, to give my final impressions about teaching, eating, and traveling in China.

Until then, zai jian.
Greg

The Name Game

One fascinating discovery about Chinese students who study English is how they go about choosing "American" names. Many of them had their names assigned to them by their Chinese English teachers over the years. Some have chosen their own names, and often decide based on objects they like or activities they are known for. And a few have asked us American teachers to name them.

One girl asked me to help her find a name based on famous female biologists. It was difficult to come up with just one, but I eventually recommended Dian (Fossey), Jane (Goodall) and Margaret (Mead), which could be changed to Peggy, Meg, Marge, Maggie, or Greta. She eventually chose Bell, because of her admiration of Alexander Graham Bell and the famale character in 'Beauty and the Beast,' Belle. That one never occurred to me.

Some of the students have what I would consider "normal" (and a few old-fashioned) American names: Shirley, Gladys, Lillian, David, Cecily, Jimmy, Mary, Richard, Charles, Jason aka Jay, Kate, and Kelly.

Some are non-'American' names, but still ones you might be familiar with: Flora, Nina, Vivienne.

Others have chosen names that sound just like their Chinese names: Lulu (Lu Lu), Woman (Wu Man), Nina (Ni Na), Leeanne (Lene).

A few of the students appear to be the off-spring of '70s flower children: Sky, River, Echo, Leaf, Windy, Rainbow, Knight, Candy, Cookie and Sea.

And then there are the ones that defy explanation: Blucky, Elite, Email, Winning, and Naughty Boy.

My favorites, however, are three students' names that go so well together. The last two are actually in my homeroom: Romeo, Juliette, and Shakespeare!

Animal Kingdom

The day we arrived in Wuhan, the sound of the cicadas was absolutely deafening. If you live on the East coast, I think you know what I'm talking about. These little bugs with bulging red eyes chirp rhythmically and constantly during daylight hours. The noise has either diminished since we arrived or I've gotten used to it. But they are still around and I've come to enjoy their lulling effect as I walk around this gorgeously wooded campus.

On my first visit to my classroom, I was getting to know how all the equipment worked and opened up the large cabinet underneath the lectern. I was greeted by a large (say 2-3 inches) cockroach. I waved over the woman who opened the room for me and she reached back to the chalk boark, grabbed the eraser, crushed the cockroach, and replaced the eraser to the chalk rail. End of story (except for the part when I wiped down the back of the eraser with a Kleenex covered in hand-sanitizer).

A few weeks ago, before eating dinner at the house of the cousin of my professor friend Flora (whom I met at the University of Utah two years ago and is the main reason I'm here in China today), I was admiring the artwork on the walls and bookshelves around the living room. I came across a few large jars, the kind you might find in an old chemistry lab with waxy plastic rims that seal large glass-knobbed lids. Inside, I was told, was a concoction of "clear spirits" (essentially legal moonshine, also known here as "fire water," containing up to 60% alcohol which burns your nostrils as you inhale and causes you to involuntarily shutter as you sip it down), Chinese herbs and seeds, and 5 whole snakes--either dead or extremely intoxicated and comatose. I was told this liquid had medicinal qualities. I vowed then and there not to get sick while in China. Mission: (so far) accomplished! My only regret is I'd forgotten to bring my camera to the dinner, so there are no pictures of the snakes in a jar.

While there is a large lake and plenty of humidity (and it rained every day for the first week), I was surprised that there did not seem to be any mosquitos. They have finally arrived, however. In the early evenings--as the heat of the day finally begins to recede--we've begun to play wiffle-ball with the students (they are oblivious to baseball but LOVE basketball) and I now have a fine collection of bites. Makes me homesick for Minnesota.

One day last week, one my of mosquito bites seemed to be spreading in an odd way. There were 5 short, red trails reaching out from the bite. The bite also became a bit infected and a few small pimples formed on the end of each of the trails. Upon closer inspection, I noticed two distict dark spots next to the main bite and realized that I must have been bitten by a (mildly) venomous spider. I have no idea when it happened, and frankly I'm glad because otherwise I'd be absolutely paranoid about it happening again.

Finally, this past Saturday night, I had dinner again with professor Flora. She took me, another American teacher, and some friends to dinner at restaurant near the Agriculture University (the only one in all of China, she tells me). The food served is raised and cultivated entirely on the campus. When we sat down to dinner on the outdoor patio on one of the few cool nights we've had since arriving, the chairs and table were no taller than in a kindergarten classroom. To fit my long legs under the table, I crossed and tucked my ankles under the chair. About 10 minutes into the meal, I felt a mild tingle on my left ankle and thought "Oh, I've sat on my syatic nerve," and adjusted my leg. A few moments later, I felt an electric shock run through my shin and I yelped just a bit. The people at the table asked me what was wrong and I said that I'd felt a pain in my leg because of my position. As I began to adjust legs, the other American looked under the table. She immediately screamed out loud and jumped back, knocking over her chair and scaring the little girl next to her. The entire restaurant was now looking at us and watched as a 6-inch millipede slithered/ran at lightning speed across the floorboard from our table, under another (causing its occupants to also jump up and out of the way), and over the deck to the grassy area below. As we all calmly sat back down to our meal--my legs stretched out fully across to the other side this time and my shin tingling mildly--Flora casually mentions that I was fortunate to have been wearing thick socks.

Ah, the adventures of overseas travel. My animal encounters during a year in Mexico when I was in high school had painted a picture in my mind about what I might find in China that has not been entirely accurate. I feel fortunate and relieved not to have seen more than one cockroach and no rodents of any kind. But there's still two weeks left!

Yangtze from Yellow Crane Tower

Wuhan University Library

Wuhan from Yellow Crane Tower

Team-Two-Teachers

Students With Gifts

Me-and-Mao

Karaoke

Great Wall

Find-the-Starbucks

Feet Jugglers

Feast and Cake

Arrival Feast

On the Town

Ni Hao!
Last Saturday, the American teachers all went to the Hubei (Province) Museum. (See some of the objects are read more about the museum at www.chinaplanner.com/hubei/hub_muse.htm) It's main exhibit is the burial artifacts of a governor from the 5th century BC. We attended a performance of bells and drums that are replicas found at the burial sight. The real ones are on display in a sealed glass case. The bells are extraordinary for two reasons. First, they're huge. The largest bell would take two people to wrap your arms around it. Second, the bells' notes pre-date the modern musical scale and yet can be used to play modern music. They performed Beethoven's Ninth Symphony "Ode to Joy" as their last piece.

Later that same day, we went to the Yellow Crane Tower (www.chinaplanner.com/hubei/hub_yelc.htm). It's reknown for inspiring Hubei province's most famous poets to write their best-known works. At ten stories tall, it provides a spectacular view: the tower itself, and a view of the city when standing on the top story balcony. The murals inside are gorgeous and I spent quite a while looking at the city of 7 million people below me.

I've also visited the Guiyuan Buddhist temple (www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/hubei/wuhan/guiyuan_temple.htm). It was packed with people meditating. I don't have many pictures because cameras are banned in most locations. The most fascinating part was visiting the Hall of Arhats. 500 statues of Buddha-like men, each with a different look, personality, and often objects in their hands, are enclosed in a maze of glass cases. You are supposed to select one, then begin counting them one-by-one until you reach the number of your current age. This is then the Arhat that you pray to for that visit. Mine was a bald man with a slightly maniacal look holding a softball-size gold orb in his hands.

One of my favorite activities, so far, was seeing a performance by the Wuhan Chinese acrobats. It was fantastic to see these performers just a few meters (China is metric, so I'm trying to adapt!) away from our ring-side seats--and the bargain rate of just 44 yuan, about $5. I was quite amazed by their abilities for strength, balance, and gracefulness. Most impressive were the two women who juggled tables, large clay pots and spinning rugs (you'd have to see it to understand, I suppose), all while laying on their backs, using their feet to do the juggling! Oh, and the "monkey men" were fun too. These guys were climbing up 15-foot poles upside-down, or jumping and grabbing onto the poles with just their legs, etc.

Zai jian
Greg

Positive Reinforcement

Ni hao!
Before leaving for China, I'd read a few books that said China is a gift-giving culture. So, I contacted different departments on the University of Utah campus to see if they would be willing to donate small items for me to give away as a token of 'Thanks' and friendship. I received free ball caps, buttons, lapel pins, pens, calculators, bags and books from departments on campus, and Utah Jazz keychains from the Salt Lake NBA team. Fortunately for me, crimson red is Utah's school color and a very important color in Chinese culture, and basketball turns out to be the universal language, so the gifts are a perfect match.

During the first week of classes, I quickly realized that the students are so concerned about "saving face," that I can hardly get them to volunteer to talk during group discussions, or volunteer to be the first to give the daily "impromptu" speech. So, to overcome the inertia, I've now begun to reward risk-taking behavior by letting those who volunteer first to choose one of the small gifts I have with me. The pens and ball caps are a hit, but the Jazz keychains are definitely the most popular. One guy absolutely gushed about what a fan he is of the Utah Jazz. This is actually a surprise considering that Yao Ming of the Houston Rockets is one of the most famous and popular Chinese celebrities.

The students are so expressive and full of emotion, once we get past the student/teacher subservience barrier. When I announce to the class that the volunteers will get a gift, there's always an "oooooh" from the class. And when the students come up to select their gift, there's often a spontaneous applause, too.

I've taken a photo of some of the students with their gifts. I'll see what we can do to get it (and others) posted onto the blog.

Zai jian.

Learning to Teach - Part I

The first week of instruction is behind me, and I've learned quite a lot, myself, about teaching English and working with Chinese students. And it seems that the students are learning just as much.

The students' ages range from 17-20. They were selected to be part of this program because they are some of the best English students at Wuhan University, based on a written exam and their own professors' recommendations. Our mission here, however, is to improve their listening and speaking skills. Both formal speeches and classroom discussions are being promoted by all of the American teachers.

The first thing I noticed was how attentive the students are when I'm talking. Every eye is on me and paying close attention. But the second I ask them to contribute to the conversation, the entire mood of the class changes. The Chinese students are so afraid of making a mistake that they are unwilling to volunteer to speak first. Once the inertia is broken, it becomes easier (but by no mean simple) to coax more out of them. But there is one difference between these students and the ones back in the US that has been a constant frustration for me. As soon as a classmate speaks up and participates in (what I believe to be) a group discussion, many of the students' heads drop down to read their notes, look at their phones, or chat with their neighbor. It seems that in Chinese classrooms, students address their instructors only, not other students. It's as if they don't feel that they can learn from one another.

I've changed my approach for getting group discussions going. An observing Chinese English instructor suggested that I give the students the opportunity to talk to a partner first before expecting them to answer my questions or join a larger discussion. This gives them a chance to try out their new vocabulary and build confidence that they know what they're going to say. It has certainly improved the number of students willing to volunteer.

I need to run off to my afternoon class. I'll write again on this topic very soon!