<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313</id><updated>2011-07-08T12:17:18.922-04:00</updated><title type='text'>China Diary</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dan Forbush</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02489721370551491704</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SL3nAXSrAKI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OhwihJKzD7Q/S220/July+and+August+2008+068.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-3896252096820152314</id><published>2009-08-28T08:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T09:01:12.012-04:00</updated><title type='text'>They've landed ....</title><content type='html'>This report just in from Sandy Welter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've heard from many of the teachers as they have arrived in Beijing and Hong Kong. All are just overwhelmed, excited ,and so thankful to Skidmore for offering them this opportunity.  Yesterday the two groups from Qufu and DongYing unexpectedly met each other...on The Great Wall! Their universities are touring them around the highlights of Beijing before heading to Shandong.  So they've already had a China reunion after only one day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Hong Kong group has arrived at Sun yat-Sen University and are settling in.  Internet access is sketchy for the next few days as they get set up in their apartments...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-3896252096820152314?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3896252096820152314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=3896252096820152314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3896252096820152314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3896252096820152314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/08/theyve-landed.html' title='They&apos;ve landed ....'/><author><name>Dan Forbush</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02489721370551491704</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SL3nAXSrAKI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OhwihJKzD7Q/S220/July+and+August+2008+068.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-333961849072802157</id><published>2009-08-24T11:58:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T13:24:27.712-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Down to the Wire</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow's the big day for most of the 19 recent Skidmore graduates who will be teaching in China this summer -- the day that the seven of the eight who are going to Sun-Yat Sen University will fly to Hong Kong from Boston and Newark and ten of the 11 who will be teaching in Dongying and Qufu will be flying to Beijing from Boston and New York. (One teacher will fly to Hong Kong next week and another will fly to Beijing from India.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crossing the international dateline, they'll land in China on Wednesday. The Sun-Yat Sen contingent will stay overnight in Hong Kong and be picked up by their hosts on Thursday. They'll begin their teaching assignments September 10. The Dongying and Qufu contingents will have less time to prepare, beginning their assignments September 1 and 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've asked members of the Class of 2008 who taught in China last year to pass on their reflections and advice. As the next crop of teachers tends to a myriad last-minute pre-trip details, we share the following perspectives from Karrin Varucene below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SpLK2wtlihI/AAAAAAAAADc/Jc0t9HCo-t0/s1600-h/karrin+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373580347544275474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SpLK2wtlihI/AAAAAAAAADc/Jc0t9HCo-t0/s200/karrin+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Q: Are you glad you did it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karrin&lt;/strong&gt;: I am absolutely glad I did it and wouldn't take it back for anything. At about the halfway point, I remember doubting my decision, feeling lonely and eager to return home. However, after entering the second semester refreshed from time spent traveling (mostly in the south where it was warm and sunny) and with a new outlook on how to approach my role as teacher, I found myself in disbelief that the whole experience would soon be drawing to a close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I did it for many reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I made closer relationships than I ever expected to with my fellow Skidmore teachers and especially with my Chinese students and colleagues. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got a view of China that most tourists never get. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to live, eat, breathe (unfortunately?) China for almost an entire year, something that often seems like a far-off dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got to travel and see a part of the world the way I most prefer to: from the inside.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q: What are the main lessons that the experience taught you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karrin&lt;/strong&gt;: I learned to have patience, with myself and with others. I learned to have confidence in myself and my abilities, having been thrown into completely uncharted waters--standing at the front of the classroom, charge with the responsibility of somehow imparting knowledge. I learned things about the Chinese people and culture that one simply would not learn in a book. And that is, perhaps, most valuable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SpLMCdvC4uI/AAAAAAAAADs/44ymv7qKPkE/s1600-h/karrin+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373581648120177378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SpLMCdvC4uI/AAAAAAAAADs/44ymv7qKPkE/s200/karrin+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Q: Have you changed your career plans as a result of the experience? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karrin&lt;/strong&gt;: I had never considered teaching as a profession before going to China. But I loved the experience so much. It is such a gratifying feeling to stand in front of a classroom, explain something to the best of one's abilities, and see 35 heads nod with understanding. It is even more meaningful to build personal relationships with certain students who come to see you outside the classroom, perhaps to discuss class material, and sometimes to discuss non-academic subjects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharing life knowledge and exchanging opinions and ideas with my students was so enjoyable that I am now considering teaching as a profession, though I have decided first to focus on my interest in book publishing. My teaching experience in China was such a great one that I fear most of the passion and enjoyment came from such a unique and isolated circumstance. I'm not entirely sure those charged feelings would occur for me in an American classroom. However, if publishing does not work out, I intend to explore a career in education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The experience overall did give me some much-needed self-confidence, especially when it comes to applying for jobs. I currently have a number of resumes out to most of the major publishing houses on the East Coast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q: What advice do you have for the next crop of Skidmore teachers in China?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Karrin:&lt;/strong&gt; I suppose I would say: It is all what you make it. Many of us Qufuans agreed that we could see how one could be miserable in Qufu (as many of our students claimed to be). It is still "developing," quite filthy, and about three decades behind us in many ways. However, there is also much to love about it. Qufu has character, charm, great food and an authenticity not found in Beijing, Shanghai or Hong Kong. It is "the real deal," so to speak. We all seemed to make the unspoken decision to fall in love with Qufu, and that was it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I would say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't be afraid to try new restaurants and food. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make yourselves available to students and colleagues. There are truly wonderful relationships to be made if you make the effort and put yourself out there. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Enjoy the quiet and simplicity that the yearlong experience has to offer -- you'll miss it once you return to the U.S. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take calligraphy lessons if you can! It's an unbelievably cool (and challenging) art form. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Always have some TP and sanitizer on-hand. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be sure to ride in a rickshaw. (Don't forget to bargain!). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soak it up and take it all in.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-333961849072802157?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/333961849072802157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=333961849072802157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/333961849072802157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/333961849072802157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/08/down-to-wire.html' title='Down to the Wire'/><author><name>Dan Forbush</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02489721370551491704</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SL3nAXSrAKI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OhwihJKzD7Q/S220/July+and+August+2008+068.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SpLK2wtlihI/AAAAAAAAADc/Jc0t9HCo-t0/s72-c/karrin+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-4200795409496940281</id><published>2009-08-03T10:59:00.021-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T11:42:36.529-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Introductions</title><content type='html'>Sandy Welter, director the Teaching in China program, divides the Skidmore graduates who will be teaching in China into three groups based on the geography of their assignments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK9NF7AqI/AAAAAAAAAC8/biuDt8p5oJc/s1600-h/CT1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365769527638033058" style="WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: pointer; MARGIN-RIGHT: 8px; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK9NF7AqI/AAAAAAAAAC8/biuDt8p5oJc/s320/CT1.JPG" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;four members of the&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt; Dongying group&lt;/span&gt; are assigned to the city of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dongying"&gt;Dongying&lt;/a&gt;, which is located southeast of Beijng in Shandong Province near the mouth of the Yellow River. Close to the giant Shengli Oil Field, Dongying's economy revolves around the production of petroleum and it's various by-products, including pneumatic tires and rubber and petrochemicals. Teaching at Shengli College will be Ryan Smith (far left) and Alexandra Tedaldi (far right). Teaching at China University of Petroleum will be Amanda King (middle left) and Andrea Scharf (middle right).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK9tS_MXI/AAAAAAAAADE/cnUpuXBjFYU/s1600-h/CT2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365769536282767730" style="WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: pointer; MARGIN-RIGHT: 8px; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK9tS_MXI/AAAAAAAAADE/cnUpuXBjFYU/s320/CT2.JPG" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The seven members of the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Qufu group&lt;/span&gt; will go to the city of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qufu"&gt;Qufu &lt;/a&gt;which, also located in Shandong Province, is the birthplace of Confucius and is one of China's oldest cities. Teaching at Xintan College will be Dana Gresham (far left), and Lauren Offringa (third from right). Teaching at Qufu Teachers University will be Charlee Bianchini (far right) and Lisa Klane (not pictured). Teaching at Qufu Teachers University High School will Steven Mastanduno (third from left) and Alexandra Preefer (second from right). Teaching at the Rizhou campus of Qufu Teachers University will be Jessica Yan (second from left). (Note: Michal Ault and Matt Michaels, also represented in this photo, subsequently had to withdraw from the program for family-related reasons.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK94VwiWI/AAAAAAAAADM/MpRjindVdUs/s1600-h/CT5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365769539247180130" style="WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: pointer; MARGIN-RIGHT: 8px; HEIGHT: 161px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK94VwiWI/AAAAAAAAADM/MpRjindVdUs/s320/CT5.JPG" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The eight members of the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Sun-yat Sen University group &lt;/span&gt;will go to the city of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zhuhai"&gt;Zhuhai &lt;/a&gt;in southern China. Teaching at Sun-yat Sen University will be (from left to right, starting in the back row): Brad Nesbitt, Geoff Parsons, Mariso Cimino, Ana Pugatch, Amy Proulx, Phoebe Conklin, Olivia Duong, and Greg Luhn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-4200795409496940281?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4200795409496940281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=4200795409496940281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4200795409496940281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4200795409496940281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/08/introductions.html' title='Introductions'/><author><name>Dan Forbush</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02489721370551491704</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SL3nAXSrAKI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OhwihJKzD7Q/S220/July+and+August+2008+068.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SncK9NF7AqI/AAAAAAAAAC8/biuDt8p5oJc/s72-c/CT1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-6012081685891511014</id><published>2009-07-31T15:47:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T15:32:31.715-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tradition Continues ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Nineteen recent Skidmore graduates will board planes to China this August to begin a year of teaching English literature, composition, speech, and western culture to English majors at six universities. This is by far the largest number of recent graduates that Skidmore has sent to China since launching its "Teaching in China" program 20 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 14 alumni sent by the College last year have finished their assignments. Over the next few weeks, we'll ask them to reflect on their experience and offer suggestions to the new team of teachers. And we'll refurbish this space for the new team of teachers who will begin their assignments soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly 100 Skidmore graduates now have had the experience of teaching in China and the program has expanded to seven institutions. It started with Qufu Teachers University in Shandong Province, where retired Skidmore English professor Murray Levith and his wife Tina made the China connection during Murray's sabbatical in 1987-88. The College embraced his proposal to establish a formal exchange and sent a first contingent of new graduates to Qufu in 1989-90. Recent Skidmore graduates are now also teaching at China University of Petroleum and Shengli College in Dongying, a new branch of China University of Petroleum University in Qingdao, a new branch of Qufu Teachers University in Rizhao, Xin Tan College in Qufu, and Sun Yat-sen University in Zhuhai, near Guangzhou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"China is opening up and there's so much more that these English-speaking university students are now able to do with their English instruction," said Sandy Welter, director of the Teach in China program. "They're more open-minded and they can now freely spend their money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In January, the new team of selected students begin an orientation workshop that lasts throughout the spring term. Students learn teaching strategies and techniques for cultural assimilation. They also receive assistance with the myriad details of travel and living in a foreign country for a year, such as medical needs, insurance, and visa applications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skidmore teachers live with other foreign teachers and international guests in apartments on the campus where they teach. Each teacher has his or her own apartment with a living area, bedroom, western-style bathroom, and some have kitchens. Others may have a communal cooking area. The apartments are fully furnished and include heat, air conditioning, and Internet connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 21 students who qualified for teaching assignments in this year's program come from a wide range of majors and career tracks. Only four know Chinese, but from a pedagogical standpoint that makes little difference because they will speak English at all times in their classrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of their year abroad, all of the Skidmore teachers will be able to speak enough Chinese to shop, travel, and communicate regularly with their students and colleagues, Welter says. Some students have extended their assignment in China to two or even three years so as to continue to hone their language proficiency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their experience of teaching in China is much different than seeing the country as a tourist or even a study abroad student, says Welter. "During their year, these young alumni are defined and viewed as professionals living and working in a university setting. When they return to the US, their cultural identity is grounded in choice and commitment, not just in the arbitrariness of birth and location."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many Skidmore teachers come to the realization that they love teaching and move in that direction. Others decide to attend graduate school in international relations, international business, law, human rights advocacy, literacy, and Chinese history and culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following are the 21 Skidmore teachers who leave for China later this month:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Michal Adut '09 (Government and Dance) - Xintan College &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Charlee Bianchini '09 (American Studies) - Qufu Teachers University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Marissa Cimino '09 (IA and French) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Phoebe Conklin '09 (Psychology) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Olivia Duong '09 (Chemistry) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dana Gresham '09 (Government) - Xintan College &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Amanda King '09 (English) - China University of Petroleum &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lisa Klane '08 (Government) - Qufu Teachers University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Greg Luhn '09 (Anthropology) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Steven Mastanduno '09 (Philosophy and History) - Qufu Teachers University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Matthew Michaels '09 (History and IA) - Xintan College &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brad Nesbitt '09 (Philosophy and Environmental Studies) -Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lauren Offringa '09 (Psychology) - Xintan College &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Geoff Parsons '09 (Business and Spanish) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Allie Preefer '09 (English) - Qufu Teachers University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Amy Proulx '09 (American Studies and English) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ana Pugatch '09 (English) - Sun Yat-Sen University &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Andrea Scharf '09 (IA) - China University of Petroleum &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ryan Smith '09 (Religious Studies) - Shengli College &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ally Tedaldi '09 (History) - Shengli College &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jessica Yan '09 (English) - Qufu Teachers University&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-6012081685891511014?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6012081685891511014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=6012081685891511014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6012081685891511014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6012081685891511014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/07/tradition-continues.html' title='The Tradition Continues ...'/><author><name>Dan Forbush</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02489721370551491704</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_I--0s_q-HiQ/SL3nAXSrAKI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OhwihJKzD7Q/S220/July+and+August+2008+068.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-9080624697846544796</id><published>2009-06-24T16:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T17:00:25.220-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving "Home" and Coming Home</title><content type='html'>I am home in my mother country, sitting at my gate in Newark Airport.  It seems cliched to say that there are no words to describe my feelings as I stepped into the main hub of Newark, and yet, I am really without words.  Perhaps because China has dumbed me down in the sense that I have lost a great deal of my English vocabulary and now struggle to put together a grammatically correct sentence that makes sense.  It could also be that I have been traveling for twenty-four hours straight at this point, having slept for only moments here and there on the 13-hour flight from Beijing.&lt;div&gt;Rachel and I pulled away from the gate of Xingtan College what now seems like days, even weeks ago, when in fact it was only yesterday morning.  We were seen off by around fifty students and The Gang (our teacher/office friends), all waving and giving heartfelt wishes for happy healthy lives, success, and our return to China.  Many were also crying, including Rachel and myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look at my only half-filled journal and wonder why I suddenly stopped writing in it. A bit of laziness, I'm sure. But more than anything, I think, by our second semester life in Qufu became my life. My apartment was my home and all the things once crazy and novel eventually blurred into just daily life, the norm.  It is still a shame, though, and I hope the hundreds of photos I have taken can help to fill in the gaps.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for my thoughts and feelings now being back in America, I will do my best to give them justice with the words I find myself limited by.  Lost. Lost in my ability to suddenly understand and comprehend.  Thrilled. Thrilled to see/hear diversity in all forms--race, skin color, hair color, fashion, food, language.  Relief. Relief to be able to ask questions and comprehend the answers. Joy. Joy for finally being back in a culture where, for the most part, people don't hesitate to lend a helping hand, where a kind smile goes such a long way, and where perfect strangers can comfortably engage in conversation. (I must note here that this is a general Chinese cultural comment, and that I feel blessed to have found several exceptions to this in my students and good friends. I got to know some of the kindest and most genuine people I have ever met this year, and I will never forget them.) To illustrate, just standing in line to go through security for my domestic flight I noticed the woman in front of me was crying and mumbling to herself.  At first I thought she was perhaps unsound in mind, but then I remembered I am back in a place where it is acceptable and common to reach out to strangers. So I dug in my bag for a tissue, softly touched her arm and handed her a tissue.  She took it, thanked me and murmured that she was trying to get home in time to see her mother, but that her mother had just passed away.  I told her I was so sorry to hear that, and my eyes fell to the ground as I silently said a prayer for her.  Then, not two minutes later, a boy behind us in line dropped something on the ground, and the woman touched his arm and called his attention to the dropped paper.  I was reminded then of the idea of paying it forward, and I really believe that is something very present in American culture.  Something I am proud of.  This small scene was certainly a far cry from the scene of Rachel and I schlepping our six bags (between us) on and off the airport shuttle with great difficulty as several large men just stood and watched us struggle.  Different from the several seats on the shuttle being occupied by small bags and careless people who didn't think to move their bags and offer us a seat. Different again from the scene of me, mid-flight, attempting to hoist my uber heavy backpack into the overhead compartment as an older man stood watching me, impatiently waiting for me to move out of his way.  Even when he saw it just wasn't gonna happen for me. Thank goodness for my SPW in crime, Rachel, who quickly jumped up and came to my aid.  Apparently The Gentleman died with chivalry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Rochester flight was delayed an hour, so with this in common, I chatted with several strangers.  It's so nice to be able to do that again. I only wish I could have engaged in such casual conversation with the Chinese.  There are a few Chinese on my flight, and it makes me feel more comfortable.  Already a kind man offered to help me hoist my bag overhead, and the friendly flight attendant offered me a better alternative when it didn't fit.  This is, by the way, a very extremely small plane.  Especially after the giant Boeing 777 we had for the international flight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't really know how I am feeling in this moment. Content? But that seems impossible given all that I have left behind and all the uncertainty and reality that lies before me. But it is my goal, as a world traveler, to be content wherever I am and to not mourn for too long what I have left behind.  I prefer to hope, look forward and dream.  And I look forward to returning to China in the near future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-9080624697846544796?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/9080624697846544796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=9080624697846544796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/9080624697846544796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/9080624697846544796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/06/leaving-home-and-coming-home.html' title='Leaving &quot;Home&quot; and Coming Home'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-846243788286188260</id><published>2009-04-24T23:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T23:59:39.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Raining Buckets in Zhuhai</title><content type='html'>With the spring season has come the rainy season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite a change from home: no changing foliage, warm and humid temperatures, tons of rain. These flash floods bring a rush of water down the road up to my apartment building from the main campus road. I almost got washed away in it when I grabbed some breakfast, a sort of triangular-shaped piece of dough and an Eastern-style egg and pork sandwich, and was almost swept away by all the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost week 10 here at Sun Yat-sen, meaning only seven more weeks of teaching classes and then its time to start packing for home. Amazing how the time has gone by. When I look back it doesn't feel like eight months, but that's how it always goes, right? Our sense of time changes so much, it's disorienting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes have been fun. I had my sophomore verbal classes watch the movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Cousin Vinny (1992)&lt;/span&gt; outside of class. They ate it up. If you've ever seen the movie, they particularly enjoyed the seen where the two boys just get arrested for murder and Billy calls his mother to explain the situation, shouting, "ma! ma!" The students loved how similar it was to how they say "mom" in mandarin. I truly feel that the movies are a powerful tool for teaching those certain intangible qualities that fill foreign cultures: Intonation, body gesture, emotionally-wrought phrases with a whole history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that's enough blabbering for now. Until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-846243788286188260?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/846243788286188260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=846243788286188260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/846243788286188260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/846243788286188260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/04/raining-buckets-in-zhuhai.html' title='Raining Buckets in Zhuhai'/><author><name>troeray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05069981660240478302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-8946499784666505100</id><published>2009-03-11T11:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T12:03:32.508-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in the Swing of Things</title><content type='html'>With the end of our winter vacation in late February, I got back to work. Just as I had imagined, things are moving at warp speed since classes started. Now, it's already the end of week three out of 18 for teaching classes, and then it's bye bye China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carrie and I have had to make the tough life decisions of the future: Should we stay in China next year or take our chances back in the states? After a lot of thought and considering the options, we decided to not renew our contracts for next year. Our school, Sun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Yat&lt;/span&gt;-sen University, is taking EIGHT &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Skidmore&lt;/span&gt; teachers, which is such a great step for the school's China program. To those who go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SYSU&lt;/span&gt;, I wish you the best of luck. You will have plenty of fun, new experiences, challenges, and adventures, and you should embrace it all when it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now... I want to make this short so that it is given the chance of being read by others. To my fellow teachers up North, I hope all is going well and that your giving those Chinese students hell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-8946499784666505100?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8946499784666505100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=8946499784666505100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/8946499784666505100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/8946499784666505100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-in-swing-of-things.html' title='Back in the Swing of Things'/><author><name>troeray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05069981660240478302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-358327959059111770</id><published>2009-01-27T10:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:55:26.865-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Festival From the Outside</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, January 26th, was the first day of the first  month of the Lunar year. The most important holiday of the year in China, the new year and Spring Festival have a number of traditions involved. Unfortunately, I haven't really been able to participate in any of these traditions, but I have observed some different behavior and scenes. On the 25th, Carrie, Travis, Karrin and I were in Guangzhou after flying back from Sanya late the night before. That day we went to a wonderful dim sum breakfast with one of Carrie's freshman and she then showed us around the city for a bit. The main visit of the day was to the main flower market near Beijing Lu. During spring festival families decorate their houses with flowers and bring flowers to others when they visit. Their is one specific flower having to do with 5 generations in a family that is one of the most common flowers during this time of year. I had never seen it before, and it is a strange sort of flower in that it doesn't blossom and you can't eat it. The flower market was filled with these, though orchids, lilies, gladiolus, and others were also there. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8pyXmhSAI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/vImPRFAmZYM/s1600-h/SNC11792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8pyXmhSAI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/vImPRFAmZYM/s320/SNC11792.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295997632116770818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8px-EvvzI/AAAAAAAAAPI/cgOoGQTN9t4/s1600-h/SNC11785.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8px-EvvzI/AAAAAAAAAPI/cgOoGQTN9t4/s320/SNC11785.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295997625264226098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8t34wUq7I/AAAAAAAAAPw/GHGqVK1R88k/s1600-h/SNC11794.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8t34wUq7I/AAAAAAAAAPw/GHGqVK1R88k/s320/SNC11794.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296002124962114482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Also being sold along the market were pin-wheel type toys, bought and carried about by both children and adults. Decorations for Spring Festival also include red and gold posters of traditional phrases or images of plump children, and also never-ending knots. Red and gold-or yellow-are unavoidable during this time or year. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8q6Z-AptI/AAAAAAAAAPg/X39_oh6SQTE/s1600-h/SNC11786.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8q6Z-AptI/AAAAAAAAAPg/X39_oh6SQTE/s320/SNC11786.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295998869702747858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8q57XXfOI/AAAAAAAAAPY/yw_UCvH89RA/s1600-h/SNC11796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8q57XXfOI/AAAAAAAAAPY/yw_UCvH89RA/s320/SNC11796.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295998861487602914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also unavoidable this time of year are images of the Ox. This new year's animal, the ox is everywhere and everyone wants a picture in front of it-or rather all of them. I particularly enjoyed these grandparents and grandson posing in front of an Ox with winnie the pooh at the entrance to the flower market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, the new year, we arrived in Hong Kong. Most shops, restaurants, and business had closed for the holiday-usually new years and the following 2 days-but though much of the city was closed, the streets were still alive with activity. That, I think, is what I've enjoyed most about the New Year and Spring Festival-seeing families together. It is a common sight to see grandparents toting children around and spoiling them, but rarely do you see both parents-mother and father-walking leisurely with their child (or children). Tonight, the 27th we went to California Pizza Kitchen for a western treat and got to watch a spectacular fireworks show over the water. The feeling, the crowds were calm and quiet. No drunkenness, no rushing about, but rather families sharing the spectacle together. It is this sense of togetherness and the enjoyment in simply being together that has stood out most for me.  The lunar new year and spring festival really are about family-being with your own and visiting others-and so as a foreigner here I have really only experienced the festivities from the outside, but I've enjoyed observing nonetheless. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8t3oUgRTI/AAAAAAAAAPo/h8Sk4p26Y5o/s1600-h/SNC11802.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8t3oUgRTI/AAAAAAAAAPo/h8Sk4p26Y5o/s320/SNC11802.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296002120550466866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-358327959059111770?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/358327959059111770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=358327959059111770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/358327959059111770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/358327959059111770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/spring-festival-from-outside.html' title='Spring Festival From the Outside'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SX8pyXmhSAI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/vImPRFAmZYM/s72-c/SNC11792.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2894249143648307744</id><published>2009-01-27T06:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T08:35:21.835-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Imlek - Chinese New Year in Indonesia</title><content type='html'>I thought that my decision to spend my winter vacation in Indonesia would mean a temporary hiatus from all things China.  I didn't quite do my homework, however, and was surprised to find out that Indonesia actually harbors a rather sizable Chinese minority, about 5% of the total population.  I was surprised to see Chinese architecture and Chinese characters throughout Jakarta.  In addition, the government of Indonesia recognizes six official religions, one being Buddhism and one being Confucianism (yea Qufu!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently volunteering in Jakarta at an orphanage/free education center.  Because it is volunteer run, underfunded and serving over five hundred students, there is not a lot of free time to explore the world outside the center.  However on January 26, the Chinese New Year, we happened to have left to go to a technology mega-mall in search of a wireless router.  We took a forty-five minute bus which allowed plenty of time for me to peer out the window and soak up the sights. Street after street I continued to notice red banners with Chinese writing and red Chinese lanterns filling the sky.  I turned to one of the boys who lives at the center and asked him what this was about.  "Imlek," he said, and then told me that this is the name for the Chinese New Year, a public holiday in Indonesia.  Curious to learn more, I asked "why is Chinese New Years celebrated here?"  His answer was to the point but sufficient, "we respect the Chinese people."  Why didn't I think of that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intrigued, I did some research when I got home and learned that Chinese New Year is celebrated here very similarly to how it is celebrated in China, with a large family meal, gift giving, firecrackers, decorating with banners and more.  On the holiday, all schools and offices are closed.  Street parades are held and singers and dancers flood the roads, making their way from one temple to the next.  Something unique to Chinese New Year in Indonesia though, is the TV programming, which includes hour after hour of celebratory Imlek themed variety shows with Indonesian actors dressed in traditional Chinese garb.  I was not lucky enough to catch the shows first hand, but when I asked another Westerner here to describe her impression of the shows, her words were "entertaining" and "less than politically correct."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left, my students made sure to remind me what a pity it was that I was not spending New Years in China.  I agreed, but am happy with my decision to come volunteer.  It seems that today I was fortunate enough to have the best of both worlds: Chinese New Year celebrations and a tropical climate.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2894249143648307744?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2894249143648307744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2894249143648307744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2894249143648307744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2894249143648307744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/imlek-chinese-new-year-in-indonesia.html' title='Imlek - Chinese New Year in Indonesia'/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-1317044725075394714</id><published>2009-01-26T02:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T02:49:10.732-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese New Year in Yangshuo</title><content type='html'>Happy Spring Festival! (the Chinese New Year, for those who don't know)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm currently sitting in the Yangshuo Culture House, the small hostel I have made my home for the last few days, and where I spent Spring Festival last night. Staying at the Culture House was in some ways an attempt at experiencing the festival with a Chinese family - the Culture House is operated by a Mr. Wei and his family, who cook all the meals for the guests, eat with us, and offer things such as cooking classes, Tai Chi, and calligraphy lessons. I've been here five days now, and it's fantastic - if you ever find yourself in Yangshuo, China, I recommend looking it up... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, lets talk about the festival! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like New Years in the States, Spring Festival is very much a midnight celebration, and "ringing in the new year" is actually similar to how we do it in the U.S. (think firecrackers, and lots of them). Now, Spring Festival is a big deal here. While the western calendar is used for all things official, it's not really 2009 in China until the lunar calendar says so, usually sometime in early February; this year happened to come a bit early. I'll get into the specifics of how I spent my first Spring Festival, but I don't want to get ahead of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ask any Chinese person and they will tell you how extremely important Spring Festival is to everyone here in China. They will also most likely mention that one of the most important aspects of the festival is that it should be spent with your family. I've been at the Culture House for five days now, and one of the big reasons is travel. China, as most of us know, has a very large population. Combine that with an ever growing migrant worker population all trying to get home at the same time, and add a dash of trying to buy train tickets (it's rare to be able to buy round trip tickets, and most places you can't buy tickets very far in advance) and you've got absolute mayhem. I'm told that last year in Guangzhou, home to one of the biggest migrant worker populations, there was at one point a million people standing outside the train station trying to get home. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That's a lot of people&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. Suffice it to say, laying low for this period of time is something all of us took to heart. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday was New Years Eve, but instead of spending the day in preparation for the festival like our hosts, Eva, a German woman staying at my hostel, and I decided to go for a hike along the Li River. Considered one of the most beautiful landscapes in China, we didn't want to miss out on catching a glimpse of the scenery, and here is a 24 km hike along the banks which was supposed to be fantastic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The towns were completely alive when we headed out - the markets were busy, the bus station was busy, everything was busy. The air just had that electric tension which only comes from great anticipation and excitement; really a cool feeling to experience in another culture. We arrived in the town of Yangdi, about 70 minutes north of Yangshuo and headed out along the banks of the river. Long story short, we went left when we should have gone right, and ended up high in the mountains surrounding the Li River. Absolutely beautiful, if not about 15 kilometers from where we wanted to be hiking... When we finally realized what had happened, we were too far along to turn back (the road we were on led to the same place, just not via the river), so ended up hiking through the one and two house farming communities which dot the area. When we finally made it back to civilization (by way of the two of us crammed on the back of a motorcycle taxi), we were shocked at how dead the towns were. The same city streets, crowded not hours before, were total ghost towns. I've never seen a Chinese city as quiet as I did yesterday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We made it back to the Culture House just in time for dinner - a fantastic feast consisting of about 10 to 12 different dishes, and after dinner everyone at the hostel really got into the New Years spirit. Now, as I mentioned before, the Chinese take Spring Festival very seriously, and they also take firecrackers and fireworks very seriously. In the last few days, massive wheels of fireworks had gone on sale on just about every street corner. Myself and Eric, a businessman from Holland, bought several of these firecracker wheels, one of which you can see in the picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295505716807067058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SX1qZIRV5bI/AAAAAAAAAK0/ZOZxAwcVeeg/s320/P1030088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These aren't your everyday firecrackers... they pack serious punch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the most interesting things I noticed about the fireworks, is the complete disregard for the way in which I was raised to deal with fireworks. Most notably demonstrated by the three eight year old boys running around launching bottle rockets and roman candles at houses, people, the unlit firecrackers in an attempt to ignite them (they were successful to), or anything else that suited their fancy, yet nobody really saying anything... It was a bit wild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After fireworks we all headed downtown and hiked to the top of a peak in the middle of Yangshuo and watched the fireworks at midnight. I've never in my entire life seen so many fireworks, firecrackers, and other explosive and incendiary devices ignited all at the same time. It was a spectacular sight to behold - the entire town became immersed in the smoke cloud associated with large fireworks displays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That sums up my Chinese Spring Festival for the most part - in a lot of ways similar to the New Year in the U.S., but with a very distinct Chinese feel. In a few minutes I'm going to help make jiaozi, or dumplings, which are eaten on New Years Day for good luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all for now - as for a travel update, not quite sure what is next. Perhaps Hainan Island, in my increasingly desperate search for warmer climates. I'm heading to Thailand on the 5th of February, and if all else fails I'm sure it will be warm there. Happy New Year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-1317044725075394714?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1317044725075394714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=1317044725075394714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1317044725075394714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1317044725075394714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/chinese-new-year-in-yangshuo.html' title='Chinese New Year in Yangshuo'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SX1qZIRV5bI/AAAAAAAAAK0/ZOZxAwcVeeg/s72-c/P1030088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-4475901807232424973</id><published>2009-01-15T09:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T09:42:03.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel Update and Harbin</title><content type='html'>So I apologize for the general lack of blogging in the last few days... Sometimes it's just not in the cards. I mean lets face it, between Counter Strike and playing Risk on Facebok, who has time for things like "reading," or "traveling," or "blogging" anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so in my defense, yesterday I got fed up with my muscles being weak with atrophy and the impending feeling of office-ass hanging over my head and played basketball and went for a run. And today I went out to lunch! ...Don't judge me you've all been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway in all seriousness, due to the suns rays reflecting off of Venus thus igniting some swamp gas in Florida and the deepening economic and financial crisis in the United States, my travel plans have become FUBARed (that statement is 50% right!) and I'm in the midst of re-arranging travel plans for the prolonged break I am currently on. Noah (my older brother for those who don't know) was supposed to visit from the 21st of January until February 7th(ish), but, because of the deepening economic and financial crisis in the United States (I wasn't lying), at the last minute had to cancel his trip. I have now found myself alone in Qufu attempting to re-sort and re-tool my upcoming vacation, and I think I've almost got it worked out. If (and this is a big if) buying train tickets goes according to plan, tomorrow or the next day I will head for Beijing to meet up with Rachel, Olivia, and Lucy to hang out/get out of Qufu while they sort out visas for the rest of their travels. On the 20th I will hopefully head for Guilin and Yangshuo where I will hole up for somewhere in the realm of a week to a week and a half. Following that I will head toward Hong Kong, see the sights, and quickly depart via plane for Thailand on or around the 6th of February. Depending on funds and general interest, I'll spend the better part of February visiting LT (Lowell Thomson, former high school teacher and mentor who now lives in Thailand with his family and who has very graciously offered me a place to stay for a few nights), exploring Thai mountains, and of course, going to the beach. After that I'll head back toward China via Hong Kong and, most likely, head on back to Qufu. Maybe go to Hangzhou or Suzhou along the way, they are supposed to be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's whats on tap - now lets take a step back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks ago, right near the start of our vacation Olivia, Eliza, and I set out on a 23 hour train ride (don't worry we had beds!) to the city of Harbin, located in the northeastern most section of China and home to the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harbin_International_Ice_and_Snow_Sculpture_Festival"&gt;Harbin Internatio&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harbin_International_Ice_and_Snow_Sculpture_Festival"&gt;nal Ice and Snow Festival&lt;/a&gt;. The trip in some ways was lackluster for me - Our hostel was gross, I spent a lot of money (mostly on cabs that ripped us off), and most importantly, I'm not a big fan of being cold (To be clear - I enjoy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cold&lt;/span&gt;, and I enjoy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;snow,&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cold&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;snowy&lt;/span&gt; places, but I don't like &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;being&lt;/span&gt; cold. Call me picky or whiny or whatever - it is what it is). Despite some of the lame aspects of the trip, the city itself as well as what it had to offer more than made up for having snot-cicles in my mustache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were 4 main attractions we visited in Harbin aside from the city itself: the small (very much a relative term here) ice lantern festival, the Siberian Tiger Park, the snow sculpture park, and the grand daddy of em' all, the big ice lantern festival. Harbin itself was originally founded as a Russian city and is still shows signs of Russian influence to this day; notably so in architecture as well as food. It also serves as a very popular tourist destination for Russians from Siberia, and local signs will often advertise in Russian, and annoying street vendors trying to rip you off don't only shout "HELLO!" but also the equivalent word in Russian (unfortunately my Russian is a bit rusty so I'm not exactly sure what that is...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived late Saturday afternoon and one of the first things that struck us was the ground. Olivia slipped and hit the ground hard disembarking from the train... It was to be the first of many. This is also a good time to mention one thing I found most interesting about Harbin, where, more months than not, the temperature is well below freezing; that being, the complete lack of sidewalk or road treatment. The entire city is very much a giant skating rink. When you combine this with typical Chinese sidewalks and taxi drivers, it's devastating. I saw no plows (although it never actually snowed while we were there, they've &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;got&lt;/span&gt; to have plows stashed somewhere...), no sanding trucks, no salt. In fact, the only way I saw ice being removed from roads was, in true Chinese fashion, by hand. That's right, crews of six or seven people with sledge hammers, pick axes, and giant chisels going to town on the expressways. This was all well and good for the fifty feet of curb they had managed to clear that morning, but unfortunately neglected the several miles of black ice underneath the hydroplaning wheels of our taxi. Even more astonishing (or not at all I suppose) was the lack of thoroughfare de-icing at the festivals themselves. When we went to the big ice festival (don't worry I'll get there eventually), which is very much an international event, going up and down staircases made of ice was, well, icy! I mean I can't complain too much it was a world made entirely of ice, I wouldn't want them to skimp on the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The small ice lantern festival was in the city itself near a very popular and very chic walking street with all sorts of fun shops and touristy things. We had dinner on this street at a Russian cafe recommended by the ever trusty Lonely Planet, which was an adventure. We were famished and hadn't eaten since the train, so we decided to have an early dinner at around 5:30... After sitting down, we slowly began to notice that, while there were many people actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;the restaurant, very few people were eating, and fewer still had apparently given their orders. Not wanting to miss out on our one chance at piroshkis, we patiently waited for them to take our orders. Long story short, we waited until right around six o'clock, at which time they finally came over to take our order - except that every time we tried to order, the waiter would shake his head and say "we don't have." Apparently all they had was cold sausage and bread. We thought that was a very fitting Russian meal, in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner we headed straight away to the festival. This one was Disney themed and had an ice castle (with working three story elevator - one of the only things not made of ice), a pirate ship, and all sorts of other smaller structures and buildings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4DR90zO-I/AAAAAAAAAIM/IPxc21SPGHI/s1600-h/P1010976.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4DR90zO-I/AAAAAAAAAIM/IPxc21SPGHI/s320/P1010976.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291170219395595234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Approaching the Castle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4A_-AcPUI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Z3g67T5PThk/s1600-h/P1010979.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4A_-AcPUI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Z3g67T5PThk/s320/P1010979.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291167711183519042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The castle - notice the functional escalator and elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4BV_vAkhI/AAAAAAAAAH0/UCE0qwvTYCI/s1600-h/P1010987.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4BV_vAkhI/AAAAAAAAAH0/UCE0qwvTYCI/s320/P1010987.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291168089604395538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Part&lt;/span&gt; of the slide which came off the castle. Yes, its amazing, and yes, made entirely of ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was much more happening at this festival than these three pictures show, including some very elaborate and finely crafted sculptures, but that will have to do for now. Remember, this was the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;small&lt;/span&gt; festival...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we started off with a sure winner - the Siberian Tiger Park. The park itself states that it raises tigers to be released back into the wild. As the guidebook explains however, how exactly it does this is not clear, as you can buy strips of meat (10 yuan), live chickens, (40 yuan), goats (200 yuan), or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;whole cows&lt;/span&gt; (somewhere in the range of 200 USD) to watch them eat while you drive through the park. The park was in some ways a bit sad - lots of cages and the tigers looked completely immune to the OBNOXIOUS heckling of Chinese businessmen (I wanted to punch one guy in the face), but you cannot deny the awesomeness of the animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4JwW-Qx3I/AAAAAAAAAIc/pSUqtOBtYXE/s1600-h/P1020053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4JwW-Qx3I/AAAAAAAAAIc/pSUqtOBtYXE/s320/P1020053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291177338612008818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I could kick your ass if I wasn't a big lazy cat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4Jwn9Hd5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/c_wxTtUf8xE/s1600-h/P1020029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4Jwn9Hd5I/AAAAAAAAAIk/c_wxTtUf8xE/s320/P1020029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291177343170606994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We all wanted one afterward. They just look so adorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we went to the tiger park, which was located a good distance outside the city, we made our way back to Harbin proper via one of my favorites of the trip, the snow sculpture park. While it wasn't entirely completed when we were there, the scale of it, as well as the intricate and cool designs, carved entirely out of snow, blew us away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4N8rypTqI/AAAAAAAAAIs/b2iX-1fUQrE/s1600-h/P1020086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4N8rypTqI/AAAAAAAAAIs/b2iX-1fUQrE/s320/P1020086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291181948405370530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I Thought this arch was really cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4N9AHuGbI/AAAAAAAAAI0/ik_W2rkPhIU/s1600-h/P1020093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4N9AHuGbI/AAAAAAAAAI0/ik_W2rkPhIU/s320/P1020093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291181953862474162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There was a whole section of different Santas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4N9p_lfjI/AAAAAAAAAI8/M1HCzhJ1O-A/s1600-h/P1020156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4N9p_lfjI/AAAAAAAAAI8/M1HCzhJ1O-A/s320/P1020156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291181965102644786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was only a small part of this particular sculpture... it goes to the left another three pictures. Just to give you an idea of the scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could have gone across the street to the big ice festival that evening, but at this point we had been outside in the Harbin winter for almost five hours, we had another full day in the city, and there were back to back episodes of "Corporate Law All-Stars" on TV, so after the snow park we grabbed dinner and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we packed in a bunch of very cool sights, including the Church of St. Sophia, a Russian Orthodox church in the heart of the city which is now a museum, a Buddhist monastery, and finally the big ice festival. Unfortunately My camera battery was on its way out, so I only have a few pictures of the grand finale ice festival, but let me tell you - it was awesome. Remember, EVERYTHING in these pictures is made of ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SRQyCozI/AAAAAAAAAJE/oIvav6K1c7o/s1600-h/P1020221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SRQyCozI/AAAAAAAAAJE/oIvav6K1c7o/s320/P1020221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291186699978842930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Church of St. Sophia (not made of ice)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SRkisk2I/AAAAAAAAAJM/k5nsp2MdOnk/s1600-h/P1020278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SRkisk2I/AAAAAAAAAJM/k5nsp2MdOnk/s320/P1020278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291186705283191650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;entrance &lt;/span&gt;gate to the ice festival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SRx46ThI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7Xms8z01D3M/s1600-h/P1020294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SRx46ThI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7Xms8z01D3M/s320/P1020294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291186708866027026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The center castle. This thing was massive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SSrhbl7I/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ge9ki1d-UDY/s1600-h/P1020322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SSrhbl7I/AAAAAAAAAJk/Ge9ki1d-UDY/s320/P1020322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291186724336801714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another view of the center castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SSCLqfPI/AAAAAAAAAJc/d1g2qoumn18/s1600-h/P1020302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4SSCLqfPI/AAAAAAAAAJc/d1g2qoumn18/s320/P1020302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291186713239649522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A checkers board made of ice... Also gives a good perspective in the background to the scale of the whole complex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4TbVSXuXI/AAAAAAAAAJs/98WSB3YYrmg/s1600-h/P1020324.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4TbVSXuXI/AAAAAAAAAJs/98WSB3YYrmg/s320/P1020324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291187972498504050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Snow Buddha visible through some ice pagodas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4TbvxD-eI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Sv6NahHT0FU/s1600-h/P1020332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4TbvxD-eI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Sv6NahHT0FU/s320/P1020332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291187979606555106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Snow Buddha up close and personal. Use the flowers for scale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I think that's all for now - I took almost 300 pictures all told while I was in Harbin, these are just the highlights. I'll do my best to blog about my travels to Guilin, Hong Kong, and Thailand as they unfold. We'll see how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-4475901807232424973?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4475901807232424973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=4475901807232424973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4475901807232424973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4475901807232424973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2009/01/travel-update-and-harbin.html' title='Travel Update and Harbin'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SW4DR90zO-I/AAAAAAAAAIM/IPxc21SPGHI/s72-c/P1010976.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-3273974670443916654</id><published>2008-12-21T10:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T10:47:06.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese Solstice</title><content type='html'>The howling, bitter wind awoke me this morning - December 21st - long before the sun attempted its daily token effort at warming the world. Mildly startled, I found myself awake, peering from the safety and warmth of my comforter at the hazy black and white shadows hiding in the corners - things that send small boys shivering for the depths of colorful car-and-truck bedspreads - and which have a knack for appearing at ungodly hours, no matter where you are in the world. It seems fated that the arctic wind finds me today; the shortest day of the year. Qufu is a sunny place and today will be no exception, but the darkness which, day after day, week after week, has been encroaching on all of our spirits takes its toll, and the icy bitterness the wind brings will not lift with the sun today, no matter how brilliant and cloudless the day may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bed is comfortable and warm, but the howling wind - a sound not yet heard since moving to China nearly four months a go - sends a cold shudder straight through me, and serves as a reminder of the dark, cold winter I hide from, existing just inches outside my window. It's Sunday and I have no where to be for hours, so the prospect of burying myself in the heart-warming security of blankets, a pillow, and my imagination is so scintillating I'm happy to be awake to savor the moment. Somebody awesome once said that winter is best witnessed through a window with a glass of wine and a fireplace, but I prefer my trio this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drift in and out of sleep, encountering a half-awake state which on most days would leave me ragged and annoyed, but today finds me happily accepting. I get up to pee - who knows what time it is, but it's still dark - and quickly make my way back, smiling, to bed until it's time to go shopping. Today Olivia, Rachel, and I eat &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jiaozi&lt;/span&gt;, or dumplings, with our Chinese tutor Wish. My eyes water on the way to the store, and Wish suddenly gets concerned, thinking I am upset. "No no," I joke, "my Western eyes just can't take the cold." Apparently watering eyes aren't common in China, or at least Wish hasn't experienced it - or not from cold anyway. I always did have sensitive eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we eat, Wish tells us that you eat &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jiaozi &lt;/span&gt;on the shortest day of the year&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;for good luck. Like all Chinese traditions, there is a story, and Wish explains that, long ago, there was a woman named &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Zhang&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Zhong Jing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;who noticed that during the winters many poor people's ears froze, and she wished to find a way to prevent and cure this. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Zhang Zhong Jing&lt;/span&gt; came up with a special medicine (Wish explains that it is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jiaozi&lt;/span&gt;, or something she put in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jiaozi&lt;/span&gt;, I'm not sure which) to help the poor people keep their ears from freezing, and you eat &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;jiaozi&lt;/span&gt; in honor of her on this, the shortest day of the year. The tradition does not seem to be a major one, as it is the first any of us have heard it mentioned, but we enjoy it nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I later googled &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Zhang Zhong Jing&lt;/span&gt;, and Wikipedia explained that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Zhang Zhong Jing&lt;/span&gt; was actually a man, and he is considered to be the founder of "cold damage or 'Cold Disease' school of Chinese medicine." I liked the version Wish told better, but you always tend to like what you hear first, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As this, the shortest day of the year, comes to a close, the failing sun reminds me of a "hang in there baby" poster; trying to offer some desperate sense of hope. The wind subsides with the sun, but the effects have been felt: "you're not out yet," it seems to taunt, with one last icy blast. In its bitterness, however, the wind becomes the salvation - with it comes &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;change&lt;/span&gt;. I have never felt so connected to the solstice as I do here in this now familiar place. The celebrations, the ceremonies, the parties; I guess I always knew why, but I never &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;understood&lt;/span&gt;. Not until now. Tomorrow will be longer, if even for a moment.  And that...? That will make all the difference.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-3273974670443916654?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3273974670443916654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=3273974670443916654' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3273974670443916654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3273974670443916654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/chinese-solstice.html' title='Chinese Solstice'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-6738085829306096829</id><published>2008-12-19T00:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T00:02:20.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Teaching and Travel</title><content type='html'>Today is my last real “teaching” day of the semester, and it couldn’t have come fast enough. It seems that being a teacher in front of the classroom has not changed the attitude that regularly took hold of me as a student at this time of year. I need a break. In some ways I need the break simply in order to get out of Qufu. I love it here, I really do, but having not left Qufu for 3 months I am going a little stir crazy. I also need the break to get excited about teaching again. I need to relax, regroup and then instill my teaching with some energy once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you may tell, I am eager to get out of Qufu, and I have already begun planning what I will do for my 2 months of vacation—it has not been an easy process. Travel in China, and the process of arranging travel in China, is like nothing I have ever experienced before. In America, even in Europe, it is easy to arrange round trip tickets and to buy tickets for multiple destinations on a trip. Not so in China. You purchase train and bus tickets usually just a day or two before you wish to travel, and you can only buy one way tickets. You can also only buy tickets in the city of your departure. So I will go to Shanghai, then Zhuhai, then Guangzhou, then Macau, then Guangzhou, and then Hainan. But at this point, if I hope to travel only by train and bus, I can only purchase my ticket from Qufu to Shanghai. You really have no choice but to “fly by the seat of your pants” and hope that tickets will match hotel reservations (if you have been bold enough to book them). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point it seem that I will be traveling for about 7 weeks straight, and I’m sure my vacation will not be that relaxing, but I am excited to see more of China. The first week of January I will take a 23 hour train north to Harbin. This Russian-influenced city is home to a spectacular snow and ice festival each winter. I will admit, however, that I am a little worried about the cold. My weather widget tells me that this Sunday’s low is -19F. Yes, you read correctly, I did not mistake an F for a C. -19 Fahrenheit. Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-6738085829306096829?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6738085829306096829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=6738085829306096829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6738085829306096829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6738085829306096829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/teaching-and-travel.html' title='Teaching and Travel'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-4199325266468863389</id><published>2008-12-13T00:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T01:26:40.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to make sense of it all</title><content type='html'>I noticed that I haven't blogged in quite some time.  I used to try and blog every Wednesday, on my day off, so I began to think about why this change had occurred.  I suppose the answer is that I am finally (after three and a half months) beginning to settle into Qufu.  We have developed a comfortable daily routine and certain things that I once would normally have blogged about, don't startle or shock me anymore.  This isn't to say that China doesn't challenge and surprise me anymore.  Quite the contrary; it does so everyday.  I think the difference is that I am learning to roll with the punches and learning to expect the unexpected.  When unusual or confusing occurrences happen, I think to myself "just another day in Qufu..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't yet mentioned the fact that I went home to the U.S. for a month due to a serious and urgent family matter.  Having been back in China for about two weeks, I have felt some element of culture shock that I almost didn't feel the first time I came here in August.  Similarly, I didn't feel homesick when I came in August, but I did feel homesick coming to China this time around.  I think the difference was that the first time I came to China, I didn't know what lay ahead of me.  It was a mysterious adventure that I could not envision in my mind.  This time, I knew exactly what I was coming back to.  I was excited to go back, but not like the first time around.  I also thought I would have some profound realizations about China during my time home, but I didn't; sorry to disappoint.  I felt like two months in China was not a sufficient amount of time for me to have been able to make sense of my time there.  Right now I almost feel as if I am not cognisant of what I am really experiencing.  It won't be until after I get home and look back upon my time here that I will really say "wow" and begin to start understanding all the complexities that it held.  For now, I am on what we like to call here "sensory overload."  At all times in Qufu, our five senses are constantly being stimulated by the vibrant and nonstop world around us.  It will take a serious calm from the storm for me to regain a steady sense of understanding of my life in China.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-4199325266468863389?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4199325266468863389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=4199325266468863389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4199325266468863389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4199325266468863389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/trying-to-make-sense-of-it-all.html' title='Trying to make sense of it all'/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-9027449466144149568</id><published>2008-12-09T11:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T11:22:31.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things That blindside You at 1:30 on an Idle Tuesday...</title><content type='html'>In previous posts (you might have to look a ways back, but it's there) I had mentioned the "street food" available just outside the school gates (think plastic bags). Right outside &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xintan's&lt;/span&gt; main gate, seven days a week, rain or shine, a small collection of food carts and vendors do business. Small little markets and collections of street vendors exist all over Qufu - we see them everywhere we go. Well, for the last month and a half or so there have been some interesting events regarding the street vendors located outside &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt; College, and today I was the unfortunate witness to the latest of these "interesting" events. Read on - this ones &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;crazy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let's start at the beginning. About a month and a half ago I walked out to buy fried noodles from the guy I do the most business with, and was surprised to find that the area normally containing the street vendors was eerily vacant, whereas just the night before it had been slammin' busy. Turns out that almost all of the carts had moved about a hundred yards down the road, and there were police officers shouting at the few remaining carts telling them to move. Nothing else much came of this - the market moved down the street for a day, and slowly worked its way back to just outside the gate. I talked it over with some of my students who explained that the area where the carts had been stationed, right outside the gate, was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt; property, and the college didn't want the carts there because they took away business from the on-campus canteen. It is important to note that the students don't look highly upon the canteen - one of Karrin's students mentioned flies in soup, and we routinely see stray cats running through there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after a while the police officers' presence became more routine, and slowly but surely the street vendors stopped setting up shop directly on the sidewalk outside &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt;, and instead moved into a nice uniform group lining the edge of the road, catering exclusively to those who happened to be on the very same sidewalk where they had set up shop before... I thought it was clever, really - carts, people, donkeys, and bicycles hanging out in the road is quite common in the streets of Qufu, as my previous post can attest, so simply moving the whole operation ten feet to the edge of the road (it's a big sidewalk) fixed their problem. Business went on as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this is where all of us buy our fruit and occasionally our lunches (not as much as we used to - it's just too oily to eat all the time), including the ever infamous &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jidan Bing&lt;/span&gt;. Rachel and Olivia love the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jidan Bing&lt;/span&gt;. We simply call it the "bing." It's a fried egg with vegetables placed inside something resembling a warm pita, with sauces. My point being, we're out there buying food generally on a regular basis. It is also, incidentally, exactly where the bus stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at about 1:30 I happened to be waiting for the bus for my weekly trip to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Qushida&lt;/span&gt; to teach the Korean students. Now, this is a downtime for the market - the lunch rush is over and the vendors are all, in general, relaxing. Well, today, just before the bus rolled up, two taxis sped up alongside the vendors and stopped - about 10 feet in front of the bus stop, and thus, me. Immediately, six young men (they looked anywhere between 18 to 24) jumped out of the cabs, each one of them holding some form of a large steel pipe (Naturally). Immediately the shouting began, quickly followed by the men turning the large steel pipes on the vendors' carts. Now, many of the vendors are old women, who of course are completely defenseless against six men wielding steel pipes and the element of surprise. One woman's entire cart was completely destroyed; a chaotic mangled mess of broken glass, bicycle, and vegetables. There really wasn't anything the vendors could do but watch. Directly in front of me (about 8 feet, give or take a few) a Bing vendor had the entire top half of her cart smashed in. I noticed an old, rickety propane tank with  a large dent in it about 15 feet away, luckily intact - that could have ended extremely poorly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There isn't much else to it - as quick as they came the left. The men and their pipes got back in the cabs and sped off, leaving the rest of us to contemplate what the hell had just happened. Total time elapsed, 45 seconds. Most of the vendors were quite calm as they mulled over what happened - some combination of stunned, stoic, and understanding. They didn't really seem that surprised, although it's hard to tell how much actual anger/emotion was lost in translation, plus I immediately got on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am not suggesting that this act of violence-as-intimidation is related to the school. I find it very hard to believe that the school would in fact hire a goon squad to intimidate some food vendors, and at this time I don't have any reason to think the incidents are related, but the thought crossed all of our minds. Whoever it was, they definitely wanted to send a clear message. Thankfully the pipes were directed solely at property - they didn't go for any of the vendors themselves, and they definitely didn't pay any attention to me standing at the bus stop. So on I went with my Tuesday. The Koreans, thankfully, didn't light anything on fire today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-9027449466144149568?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/9027449466144149568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=9027449466144149568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/9027449466144149568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/9027449466144149568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/things-that-blindside-you-at-130-on.html' title='Things That blindside You at 1:30 on an Idle Tuesday...'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-8444836362248511005</id><published>2008-12-08T22:01:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:07:09.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day, another competition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/ST3gBwvoNfI/AAAAAAAAAHo/yUji9dAg4Ak/s1600-h/n600958380_1037268_9816.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/ST3gBwvoNfI/AAAAAAAAAHo/yUji9dAg4Ak/s320/n600958380_1037268_9816.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277620659217249778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It has been quite some time since I last wrote about my experiences in china, and really not much has happened. As has been mentioned before, we have settled into our routines here. My days follow roughly the same pattern—wake up, put water on to boil while I wash up, drink coffee, eat breakfast, teach class, go online, pretend to grade, lunch, nap, Chinese lesson or free talk with students, pretend to grade watch tv or a movie online, dinner, read, grade, go for a run, shower, watch tv or a movie, sleep. There is very little variation to these habits. I should also mention that frequently thrown into the pattern is “judge.” As a foreign teacher, I am asked to judge competitions on a near weekly basis. China is obsessed with competitions, an obsession that I am sure was not helped by this summers Olympic games. They use competitions to assess almost every single skill. Singing, acting, basketball playing, dancing, speaking, movie “voice-overing”.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago I began my morning sitting in the back of a police car and ended it by getting 600 yuan. A day that should have been filled with new and exciting experiences, really felt not too different. Granted I was judging a police officers speaking competition but still. Very little about China shocks me anymore. That it should be different and “shocking” has become almost expected. Of course they would drive me to the competition in a police car. Of course the police car would be a Mercedes. Of course it would have black leather interior. Of course a plastic pink comb would be sitting on the black leather back seat of the Mercedes cop car. Of course – I would expect nothing else than to be “shocked” by the strangeness of the experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/ST3gkm7--eI/AAAAAAAAAIA/MW8UZ5mhFpc/s320/n600958380_1037272_1366.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277621257880140258" /&gt;This particular speech contest was a bit more of a to-do. It was a contest for all of Shandong province and a contest of government employees so a bit more ceremony existed. It was also not in a classroom but a rather plush hotel in Jining. The hotel was perhaps the nicest one I had been in a few years. I even got my own hotel room, complete with cushy bed, down pillows and duvet, and HBO, for naptime after lunch.&lt;br /&gt;The competition itself was and English speech competition for the immigration bureau of Shandong. The participants could speech on any topic they wished for a length of up to 8 minutes. Most speeches had similar themes: duty, respect, responsibility, Olympics, service, etc. What I found most interesting was how many speeches gave examples of experiences in which the police officers had to put aside family for their job. Women in their mid 20s spoke about sobbing as they left their sick baby in the hospital to go to the office to expedite a visa for a foreign businessman. This was one of the few things about the day that actually did shock me. These women were not leaving to bust a drug lord or rescue a child from a kidnapper; they were leaving to issue a form. Further, this act was one that they deemed honorable and noteworthy enough to include in a speech, but then this type of act speech to the society in which they live and the government under which they live. And so, upon thinking about the speeches some more, I am no longer shock. I am in China—of course this would be the subject of a speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/ST3gCHzAA7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/KvHAQQTIhIo/s320/n600958380_1037271_957.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277620665405408178" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The competition also included some skits. This one was about Swedish athletes who were in Qingdao for the sailing competitions for the Olymics. Their visas were expiring the next day but they wanted to visit Beijing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-8444836362248511005?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8444836362248511005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=8444836362248511005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/8444836362248511005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/8444836362248511005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-day-another-competition.html' title='Another day, another competition'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/ST3gBwvoNfI/AAAAAAAAAHo/yUji9dAg4Ak/s72-c/n600958380_1037268_9816.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-7380923213369019577</id><published>2008-12-01T09:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T09:14:52.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Golden Chariot of Qufu</title><content type='html'>I feel that it is safe to say that, for all of us here in Qufu, our daily routines have become, well, routine. We know what to expect. We know what our students get excited for, and that their blood pressures seemingly spike 15 points at the mere utterance of the word "exam." We know that we all need to get more exercise, and that sometimes it's just not in the cards. Okay so usually it's not in the cards (although we're doing better). My point being, we have become quite comfortable with our daily lives; China is no longer a strange and foreign land - at least Qufu isn't, and this means that I know, in general, what to expect during a given week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may or may not have mentioned this before, but my typical weekly schedule has come to include a once-a-week trip across town to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Qushida&lt;/span&gt; (where Lucy and Eliza work), to "tutor" two groups of middle-school and high-school aged Korean exchange students. While this weekly occurrence may or may not be an eventful one (read: the students recently started using the electric heaters in the rooms to try and set the hand outs I gave them on fire...), it has caused me to become extremely familiar with what I consider to be the most important asset of Qufu: the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SS5voRyea8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/MtwmSE8CPKI/s1600-h/P1010691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SS5voRyea8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/MtwmSE8CPKI/s320/P1010691.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273274951457991618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Enter the #5. This modern marvel of public transportation, while not being the quickest way around town, is by far the preferred method of transportation between the hours of wake up o'clock and 6:00 pm. The bus may not be direct, and it may be a rough ride at times (this is usually because of rough roads), but it is always entertaining. Okay let me re-phrase: somewhere between entertaining and dear-god-I-might-pee-myself-terrifying, but lets be honest, sometimes that is a very blurry line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The #5 is perfect for the college student (or&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;foreign&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; lao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;i&lt;/span&gt;, depending on who you are...). It costs only a single yuan (roughly 14 cents) and, at one end, starts at the Qufu train station just past &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt; college, and runs all the way across town to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Qushida&lt;/span&gt;. Along the way it passes the the Bank of China, two very large shopping centers, the center of the city (where you can find shopping, food, and the Confucius Temple), the bus station, a cool park, and my personal favorite, a clothing store named &lt;span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Roma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;nticbeaut"&lt;/span&gt; (photo pending). What else could a person need?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One reason the bus is usually entertaining is because of the people we sometimes encounter there. The weekend before last I met Lucy at Silver Plaza (the bigger of the two big shopping centers) on a pleasant Sunday afternoon. Now, the bus is easy enough to catch as long as you flag it down, but it is important to notice when it is coming so that you can step out into the street and let the driver know you want to get on (you can do this just about anywhere along the streets the bus runs, bus stops optional), and usually we are on top of this - particularly because the bus ALWAYS stops at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tan&lt;/span&gt;, but also we tend to keep an eye out. Well, on this particular afternoon I was finishing up sending a massive text message (thanks to a recently acquired cell phone), and failed to see the bus until it was whizzing past me. Not wishing to wait another 15 minutes I chased the big-twinkie-of-a-bus down. This was, apparently, the funniest thing since sliced bread to two women riding the bus, as immediately after boarding they proceeded to laugh and attempt to speak to me in loud Chinese. Once they realized (or at least I think they realized, but I'm not really sure) that I could not understand them, they simply started speaking slower... One would say something, enunciating every syllable, the other would laugh, I'd ignore them, the cycle would repeat. They got off the bus before me luckily - however when I returned to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt; going the other direction, they passed me again (shouting loudly of course) in another bus. Ahh Qufu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also always a decent "hair-affair" on the bus, or a person with a ridiculous and/or amazing hair cut. They love the wild hair here. Recently there was a guy with an MP3 player BLASTING some hilarious Chinese pop/slow dance song. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago Olivia, Karrin and myself headed over to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Qushida&lt;/span&gt; for a nice dinner with Eliza and Lucy, only to find ourselves stuck at a four way intersection just down the road for literally 10-15 minutes. There wasn't an accident and the road wasn't closed. Rather, there were simply too many vehicles/people, and no one was paying any mind to the traffic lights, let alone the 8 police officers standing helplessly in the middle of it all, angrily blowing their whistles and waving their arms as if to put on the illusion of actually having control of the intersection. Cars and buses were forcing their nose only inches from the vehicle in front of them and would creep inch by inch as soon as they possibly could, ensuring that there was no space for anyone else to nudge in (which they would have, given the opportunity). This of course was converging on the intersection from 4 directions, rendering it impossible for any one set of vehicles to move at all. Pedestrians, seeing the chaos, and being unable to use any form of a sidewalk because there were too many cars, simply decided to walk right through the middle of the intersection, only compounding the already hilarious jigsaw puzzle of vehicles which existed. One bus driver was agitated enough to nudge a man on a bicycle who attempted to get between his bus and the car in front of him. Add to the image in your mind the donkey who was, in a futile attempt to clear the intersection by its owner, headbutting a bus, and you might start to get an idea of why the #5 can be so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My absolute favorite part about the bus, and the reason I think it always proves to be entertaining/&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;terrifying&lt;/span&gt;, is because of the traffic patterns in Qufu, and the complete familiarity of the streets that only comes from driving a bus up and down the same roads day in and day out. You can tell that these drivers are totally on auto pilot. That is all well and good - I like a confident, experienced driver. It does mean, however, that sometimes they tend to drive &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a little&lt;/span&gt; too fast for the traffic patterns, and thus it gets a little scary, as we are constantly afraid that the bus is going to get into an accident. for example, lets consider the following picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPkxT6VHeI/AAAAAAAAAF8/--5JN4mKtZY/s1600-h/P1010082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPkxT6VHeI/AAAAAAAAAF8/--5JN4mKtZY/s320/P1010082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274811124390632930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As you can see, the lane is quite crowded - there really isn't anywhere for a large bus to go - or is there? Hmm, there seems to be some space on the left... well why not?! WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG? The driver of course, seeing the open lane will immediately shoot for it, resulting in a scenario, while not taken on the same bus ride, similar to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPlkFpRHnI/AAAAAAAAAGE/zq1paXaG8qQ/s1600-h/P1010704.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPlkFpRHnI/AAAAAAAAAGE/zq1paXaG8qQ/s320/P1010704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274811996734299762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, that is a mother and her small child darting across going the other direction, while the bus careens toward the woman on the cart with the yellow cover and the mini truck. Good times had by all. Lanes in general just don't seem to have much meaning, even when turning corners, as witnessed by this particular picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPmXeT_MOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/HLbe2em4CkM/s1600-h/P1010088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPmXeT_MOI/AAAAAAAAAGM/HLbe2em4CkM/s320/P1010088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274812879529259234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;look closely - that is actually the lane boundary for the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;left&lt;/span&gt; side of the road. Yes, the driver did in fact turn &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;directly&lt;/span&gt; into oncoming traffic. I must say however, it is not entirely the bus drivers' fault that they drive so insanely. For one, this is simply the norm over here. Roads are pretty much every man for themselves. This of course, means for pedestrians too, as is witnessed here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPnOO8curI/AAAAAAAAAGU/zw766VDJaDc/s1600-h/P1010084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPnOO8curI/AAAAAAAAAGU/zw766VDJaDc/s320/P1010084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274813820296805042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this picture from the inside of the bus. Right next to the door (it was really crowded). The woman is simply casually walking her bike down the middle of the street as if no one else existed. Now, this doesn't necessarily pose a problem - if a moving vehicle sees another person ahead walking down the middle of the street it is typically easy to slow down and avoid. I've noticed&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;one problem in particular as to why this usually can't happen as it should, and that is that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;people don't travel in straight lines&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ever.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In fact, bicycles, electric bikes, three wheeled carts, and people all tend to take a route closely resembling the red line below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPoYFuWlwI/AAAAAAAAAGc/RGD0JxDTQ9I/s1600-h/1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPoYFuWlwI/AAAAAAAAAGc/RGD0JxDTQ9I/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274815089132082946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While this happens, a car may come careening down the road in the opposite direction, in a pattern similar to the one shown in purple:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPox1oa_gI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Fx5God6NV7s/s1600-h/2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPox1oa_gI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Fx5God6NV7s/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274815531488837122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seemingly at the same time, and from the depths of no where, a dog/car/donkey/bike/pedestrian/chicken will decide they need to cross the road, as illustrated by the teal line:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPox1FyVgI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Ea_306-jZcc/s1600-h/3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPox1FyVgI/AAAAAAAAAGs/Ea_306-jZcc/s320/3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274815531343566338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Casually, all three sentient beings will seemingly pass through the highlighted space at the same time:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPp30d8q4I/AAAAAAAAAG8/j8Oxmnzijd0/s1600-h/4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/STPp30d8q4I/AAAAAAAAAG8/j8Oxmnzijd0/s320/4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274816733767314306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Miraculously, all parties involved emerge completely unscathed. We can use these diagrams to answer the question, "why did the dog/car/donkey/bike/pedestrian/chicken cross the road?" Simply put, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;to deny the laws of physics. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can very well see, the bus here in Qufu is not only a fantastic way to get around town, it is also cool because it simply does not obey the laws of physics. This may not be all of the fun stories and events we have encountered on the number 5 this year so far, but I'll do my best to update the blog with any further hilarious encounters/pictures of donkeys head-butting buses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-7380923213369019577?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7380923213369019577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=7380923213369019577' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7380923213369019577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7380923213369019577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/12/golden-chariot-of-qufu.html' title='The Golden Chariot of Qufu'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SS5voRyea8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/MtwmSE8CPKI/s72-c/P1010691.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-6681351205851137113</id><published>2008-11-26T21:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T21:45:14.759-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Turkey...er...chicken? Day! (Take 2)</title><content type='html'>It is a bit strange to be so far away, in such a foreign place (where they don't even have turkeys), during a holiday where the tradition involves a gathering of friends and family.  I am happy, though, to have some Skidmore friends to share the holiday with.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been receiving text messages on my cell phone, since yesterday evening, from my favorite freshman class, all wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving and thanking me for being their teacher.  It's funny, I often don't think of myself as a teacher, since I am so inexperienced, but I must be doing something right.  Yesterday evening, two of my freshmen invited me to dinner with them.  We enjoyed a really nice meal together (I tried a pamelo for the first time...delicious), and we sat and talked for two hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's another sunshiney, beautiful, Autumn-feeling day here in Qufu. On rare days like this, when we can actually see the blue of the sky, we can also see more clearly the thick, billowing clouds of black coal smoke that spew from the old-fashioned industrial chimneys.  We can see the wisps of smoke dissolve into the blue, but we know that we have already inhaled the fine dust into our lungs, and it is already forming another layer of gray/black dust over everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I often find myself in disbelief that we have now been here for only three months.  It feels like so much longer.  And upon this realization, my initial reaction is that I can't believe we have another seven months to go here; it's going to drag by.  But then I stop and think, wonder why I seem to be in such a hurry to return home (other than, of course, the fact that I miss my loved ones).  I remind myself that this is exactly where I want to be.  Last night I sat at a table, enjoying a meal with two students who were sharing with me their future dreams.  We discussed the great cultural differences between China and America, specifically within the educational system.  We laughed.  They eagerly practiced speaking my native language, and I theirs.  They thanked me genuinely and heartily for coming all the way to China to teach them.  Here, I am a teacher (whether I feel like one or not).  They appreciate me, respect me, and I am in awe of the things I see around me and the people I meet every day.  I am in China.  Not just in China, but &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; China--for eleven months I am a resident of this quickly developing, dusty little city; a teacher at this quickly developing, somewhat disorganized private college.  I am living one of my great dreams: to be inside the bubble of a foreign place and culture, to see and know it from the inside, not just gloss over it with a camera around my neck as I hope a plane from city to city, trying to hit all the tourist hot spots.  So for this, I am thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-6681351205851137113?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6681351205851137113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=6681351205851137113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6681351205851137113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6681351205851137113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-turkeyerchicken-day-take-2.html' title='Happy Turkey...er...chicken? Day! (Take 2)'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2120084043147358151</id><published>2008-11-26T21:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T21:22:38.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Turkey...er...chicken? Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2120084043147358151?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2120084043147358151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2120084043147358151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2120084043147358151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2120084043147358151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-turkeyerchicken-day.html' title='Happy Turkey...er...chicken? Day!'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-3492182458402096513</id><published>2008-11-10T22:26:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T23:02:03.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Their very first foreigner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SRkBHkQdTII/AAAAAAAAAGo/fCF9_5LlqsY/s1600-h/SNC11126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SRkBHkQdTII/AAAAAAAAAGo/fCF9_5LlqsY/s320/SNC11126.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267242468689923202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday Lucy and I went to a town near by--about 30 minutes drive from Qufu--to teach children between the ages of 5 and 12. We really didn't know anything more than that when we were picked up at 7am. During the ride there I was tired and not really looking forward to spending my Sunday in a classroom teaching. We arrived in the center of town and split up; Lucy would go to 3 schools and I would go to another 4 all in surrounding villages. Once I walked into the school my feelings about the day radically changed. The children were all so incredibly energetic and enthusiastic. I think Lucy described it best when she said she felt like Santa. Because we were the first foreigners that they had even met they were shy and hesitant in deciding what to make of me at first. Was I real?  And then, moments later, once they decided that I was not someone--or something--to be afraid of they swarmed. For 3 hours I moved from class to class, school to school. The children had been taking English for anywhere from 2 months to 4 years so their levels varied. After introducing myself to each class, I would answer their questions--all the basic phrases they had learned: what is your favorite color; what is your favorite food; do you like oranges; what is your favorite sport? Then they would sing me a song or chant a song or two. I would then teach them a song and play a game with them. For most classes I taught them "Head, Shoulders, Knees &amp;amp; Toes" and they all learned very quickly. After singing the song and doing the motions together a few times, I would point to a part on my body and they would have to say it correctly or I would say a part of my body and they would have to point to it. Though some were a moment or two behind the others, most learned quickly--we'll see if they retain any of it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SRkAQaILyLI/AAAAAAAAAGg/yLI4sIvz8A4/s320/SNC11150.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267241521078061234" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After 3 hours of teaching Lucy and I met up again and taught a large group of very young children ring around the rosie. Holding hands with one little girl in a pink puffy jacket, I really noticed just how curious, enthusiastic, yet shy many of them were. She wouldn't really look me in the eye when I asked her questions, yet she clung to my hand, not wanted to let me go. We signed dozens of "autographs" in their textbooks in a frenzy of pushing and shoving and then said good bye. Following teaching, we were treated to a feast for lunch. Six or so dishes of food came out and we ate quickly, hungry and worn out by the long day. Having stuffed ourselves we forced ourselves to make room as another 5 dishes appeared. We did our best not to appear rude in refusing to eat more. We arrived back at our apartments at about 1:30 in the afternoon, exhausted from the morning but grateful for the experience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The conditions of each school varied dramatically. Some were a large complex with larger, clean classrooms while others really nothing more than a single room in a rapidly aging building. From what I could gather, the each school was part of the larger single organization that had brought us there. Most seemed to have to do with educating the children of coal miners as the town is supported largely by coal mining. The children were all adorable though--I have to say Chinese children really are the cutest. Some were dressed in school track suites while others, mostly the girls, wore tweed jackets and knee high boots, making them appear almost as miniature adults. In the spring, when my Juniors go to their hometowns to do student teaching for a 5 weeks, I hope to be able to go back to the schools more regularly and really interact with the children. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-3492182458402096513?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3492182458402096513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=3492182458402096513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3492182458402096513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3492182458402096513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/on-sunday-lucy-and-i-went-to-town-near.html' title='Their very first foreigner'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SRkBHkQdTII/AAAAAAAAAGo/fCF9_5LlqsY/s72-c/SNC11126.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-7498621840617954556</id><published>2008-11-09T07:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T07:32:51.901-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Enjoying Life in Zhuhai</title><content type='html'>Well, it has been much too long since I last wrote on this blog. Travis and I are settling into our lives here in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Zhuhai&lt;/span&gt;. We are very busy during the week; we both teach 8 classes, host an English movie night, receive tutoring in Chinese, and tutor in English. On top of that, there are always events for us to go to, papers to grade, and emails to respond to. While we are amazingly busy, we are pretty happy. Life in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Zhuhai&lt;/span&gt; is always full of fun excursions and great meals (&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SRbXCi8xxuI/AAAAAAAAAt4/JKEQkFcRXr0/s1600-h/1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SRbXCi8xxuI/AAAAAAAAAt4/JKEQkFcRXr0/s320/1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266633252997809890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we eat very, very well here!) This weekend it finally got cool (70 degrees &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Fahrrenheit&lt;/span&gt;) and so we had our first hot pot experience. I know that our Northern friends have been enjoying hot pot for months, but in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Zhuhai&lt;/span&gt; it was too warm to really enjoy it. We went out with three of the Chinese teachers in our department: Vincent, Kaitlyn, and Tom. We had a great time eating everything in sight and talking about Chinese accents, Obama, hand-holding in China, and our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;department&lt;/span&gt;. I really feel that the longer I am here, the more I love the people around me. Travis and I really lucked out coming to Sun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Yat&lt;/span&gt;-sen University; everyone has been amazingly kind and generous. We have been very well taken care of. This Tuesday we are going with some of the other foreign teachers on an excursion to Sun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Yat&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;sen's&lt;/span&gt; hometown. There always seems to be some excuse for a fun event or a big meal, and I am loving it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-7498621840617954556?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7498621840617954556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=7498621840617954556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7498621840617954556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7498621840617954556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/enjoying-life-in-zhuhai.html' title='Enjoying Life in Zhuhai'/><author><name>Carrie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SRbXCi8xxuI/AAAAAAAAAt4/JKEQkFcRXr0/s72-c/1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2631692999456181757</id><published>2008-11-05T07:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T07:57:53.004-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Election Day</title><content type='html'>I think I can speak for all of us in Qufu when I say that today (the 4th and 5th here really) was the first day we really wished we were in the US. We've gone without the comforts of home for just over two months now but it is today that we really feel an almost painful desire to be home.  In Qufu people for the most part went about their days not just indifferent but oblivious. Though almost all my students have at some point expressed their support for Obama, there is no sense here of the monumental nature of the day. We can only image the atmosphere that stemmed from the many varying emotions in response to the election results. Joy, relief, hope, disbelief that we would ever &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; see the day when a black man was elected president. We have in large part enjoyed every single day here in China, but today I think we are all more than a little jealous. So try your hardest to remember the day for us. It's one for the history books. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2631692999456181757?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2631692999456181757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2631692999456181757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2631692999456181757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2631692999456181757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/11/election-day.html' title='Election Day'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2886602347862535529</id><published>2008-10-30T06:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T06:21:12.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>autobiographies</title><content type='html'>  So for the past three weeks or so I have been really awful at keeping my blog updated. Perhaps it is because I have truly settled into my life here. I have my routines down, I am no longer really making new friends but developing the friendship I have, and classes have become somewhat predictable. Nothing much exciting has happened for me in Qufu since I returned from Shanghai; yet, I still notice differences in culture each day. I will have to make more of an effort to get my observations down each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I have been reading and grading "Autobiographies" from my junior sections. Though many of them are the same, and the same cliched language is use throughout, it has been fascinating to get a look into the life of a typical Chinese student. How they spend their childhood and adolescence is so remarkably different from not only how I spent my own but also how the majority of Americans spend theirs. For my students scores and ranks among their class have been a part of their life since the age of 7 or so. Their schooling is not so much a means to develop an independent and creative individual but someone who will continue to past tests so as to make it to college. The pressure to advance in education here is so strong that often it seems as if children really miss out on a childhood. Nearly all of my students have included vignettes of a playful youth who had to push her innocence aside as a result of a bad test score. So many of my students have regard their time in middle and senior high school as the worst time in their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is strange for me to look back my own experience as a teenager and remember anything other than inspiring teachers, supportive friends, and parents who encouraged me to believe that the possibilities for my future were endless. I am not so naive as to believe that my experiences are the same as every other American--I know that I have been blessed in my family, friends and education--but I to look at our teenage years as whole life altering in how depressed is something very different from the culture that I have grown up in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is strange, too, how many of the autobiographies I have read that have included losing a parent by illness or accident. Having only read through a third of my students' papers, or about thirty autobiographies, at least five have experience the painful loss of a loved one. Again, this is a characteristic of their lives that I find very different from Americans'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their stories are not with out inspiration though. Many write beautiful descriptions of their love for their parents and their gratitude for all that they have given up in order to provide them an education. For many of my students, they are the first of their family to study in college or even graduate from high school. They recognized the opportunities that education will afford them and their motivation is inspiring. Though only about 40 percent of students graduating will be able to find jobs in the fields and at the levels they have studied, they are all hopeful for a prosperous and fulfilling future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what has been most rewarding about reading these autobiographies is not simply hearing their stories but seeing the work and effort my students put into them and the enjoyment they have taken from writing. When I told my students that they would be writing autobiographies, or at least parts of an autobiography, many responded with a look of doubt on their faces, saying, "But we haven't done anything. Our lives are not important." I told them that people write autobiographies, not because they are important but because there are people, places and events that are important to them. In that way, their stories have value. I like to think that in assigning them each to write an autobiography, I have helped them see themselves and their lives as meaningful because they have happened. Perhaps I have, in some small part, moved them out of the "group" for a moment and allowed them to see themselves as worthy of a story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2886602347862535529?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2886602347862535529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2886602347862535529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2886602347862535529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2886602347862535529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/autobiographies.html' title='autobiographies'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-7570425798470533433</id><published>2008-10-30T05:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T05:07:25.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You've Got to Read It to Believe It</title><content type='html'>As is the case at most college campuses both here in China and back in the states, Midterm season has arrived. By U.S. standards, the importance of the midterm exam varies greatly - at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Skidmore&lt;/span&gt;, at least in the Philosophy department, they really weren't all that important, or didn't exist at all. Usually it served simply as a good half way point for a major paper to be due. Here at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt; however, midterm exams are a very big deal. The student's grades are heavily influenced by the outcome of the midterm, and thus they become very agitated and nervous whenever the topic manages to rear its ugly head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the whole, we as a group of foreign teachers have placed far less emphasis on the importance of the mid-term than the students are used to, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;largely&lt;/span&gt; because most all of us prefer to base grades on class participation and assignments than on tests - unfortunately, no matter how much we re-assure them that the midterms in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;classes&lt;/span&gt; really aren't that big of a deal, it is really, really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;difficult&lt;/span&gt; to go against 15 years of schooling telling them otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most important things I've been reminding myself while grading midterms is that, when taking a test, you are almost always nervous and rushing. My students have done very well on the whole, which I am happy about - however some of the answers have been either odd, out of context, or just plain wrong; and sometimes in distinctly hilarious and shocking ways. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Karrin&lt;/span&gt; and myself were grading papers several nights ago, and were so taken aback by some of the answers we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt;, that we decided to post a blog segment about them. So much so, that this may even become a re-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;occurring&lt;/span&gt; segment: "You've Got to Read it to Believe it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to make one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;disclaimer&lt;/span&gt;: these quotes, while hilarious, are not the majority of our students' work, and are largely taken out of context. Many of the writers here are extremely talented, some more so than many American students, so don't think we are simply making fun of our students, claiming they are of low caliber. Some things just tend to get lost in translation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, without further &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;adieu&lt;/span&gt;, let the quotes begin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an essay on the topic of beggars, the following &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt; appeared: "...he [the beggar] stretched out his hand with a broken bowel in it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an essay where a student wrote a letter to themselves, 10 years in the future (actually a very well written essay): "Go to your parents home twice a month. Buy them one or two pieces of gift, not valuable but right to their taste."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one of my tests, I asked students to provide several &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;definitions&lt;/span&gt; from or about the movies we've watched...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desegregation: "An act of treating a group of people with sexes, faces, its unfair." (I'm still not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; sure what they were trying to say)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's the whole ball of wax:"  "The everything from your ear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cold Feet:" "The Cold War."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's the whole ball of wax:" "An &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;imaginary&lt;/span&gt; place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will leave you all with a passage from the clear winner in the game of "shock the foreign teachers," from one of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Karrin's&lt;/span&gt; writing classes, in an essay titled: "Be For Death Penalty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In addition, he [someone who commits a murder] has no life aims in the rest of life. So why not gust advance his lifetime and end his meaningless life earlier ... Whats more, Death Penalty can also let the criminals pure their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;devilish&lt;/span&gt; spirit and comfort the victims hearts in the heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've all still got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of grading left to do, so we'll keep a running list of quirky, hilarious, and sometimes downright shocking answers. That's all for now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-7570425798470533433?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7570425798470533433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=7570425798470533433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7570425798470533433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7570425798470533433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/youve-got-to-read-it-to-believe-it.html' title='You&apos;ve Got to Read It to Believe It'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-4058528061203815105</id><published>2008-10-28T01:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T01:10:42.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Talk Fireworks</title><content type='html'>On my personal &lt;a href="http://www.nickinqufu.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; I have been posting with some regularity a segment I like to call "Picture of The Week." While this segment is not always best suited for the purpose of this blog, I feel that this weeks installment discusses a topic which deserves to be posted here as well, because this is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;most&lt;/span&gt; certainly one of the things that all of us here in Qufu have experienced: fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say fireworks, but really this is an unjust description of the mind numbing explosions - which can only be described as automatic-machine-gun-esque eruptions (they call them fire crackers), quickly followed by small bombs, often in the form of something similar to a flash-bang grenade on steroids, maliciously cavitating across the night sky, destroying the ear drums of the denizens of Qufu without prejudice - that have become a tri-weekly/quad-weekly/nightly occurrence here in the city. Fun for the whole family, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the U.S., large fireworks are often known as "mortar shells." A description that I always thought made sense - a loud thud as the firework leaves the tube in a smoking display of chest-vibrating awesomeness, quickly followed by the brilliant and colorful explosions we all so dearly know and love. I always thought the description accurate, but of course not exact - a real mortar causes way more human dismemberment and has only about half the cool colors... it would be a total ripoff. I mean let's be honest,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;who in their right mind would &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; use MORTARS to launch fireworks?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SQRiL4S7SII/AAAAAAAAAFU/PBeLSxdmpj0/s1600-h/P1010505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SQRiL4S7SII/AAAAAAAAAFU/PBeLSxdmpj0/s320/P1010505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261438220905433218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Enter the Chinese. What better way to celebrate a wedding than to light off fireworks? Alright, I can get behind that. However, when your fireworks begin involving SIX LARGE MORTAR CANNONS which seemingly are military surplus from the KOREAN WAR, you begin to lose me... Oh what the hell, I guess if you put red bows on them so the kids know they are fun to play with too, I'm okay with it... who am I kidding, I LOVE being woken up at 4 in the morning to the event I have deemed "The Battle for Qufu." Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that. Local custom in Qufu dictates that the earlier you light off fireworks on the day of a wedding, the luckier the couple will be. Or something like that. ...hence the 4 a.m. (3 a.m. central) start time to "The Battle for Qufu." The first time it happened, Karrin later informed us she had literally rolled out of bed and taken cover on the far side of her bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if this week was more rant than picture, but it had to be said. Have a great week everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-4058528061203815105?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4058528061203815105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=4058528061203815105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4058528061203815105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4058528061203815105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/lets-talk-fireworks.html' title='Let&apos;s Talk Fireworks'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SQRiL4S7SII/AAAAAAAAAFU/PBeLSxdmpj0/s72-c/P1010505.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-1214640398597672236</id><published>2008-10-20T08:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T08:54:08.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Eagle Has Finally Landed...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_38CODvWmSfY/SPx_DwwHYtI/AAAAAAAABAg/yhLaxbUGu3U/s1600-h/P1010106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259218167464944338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_38CODvWmSfY/SPx_DwwHYtI/AAAAAAAABAg/yhLaxbUGu3U/s320/P1010106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Below- Carrie and I on a bbq/amusement park excursion with one of our classes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Above- Me with some of my students... they're English names are Queenie, Scarly, Susan, and Violet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_38CODvWmSfY/SPx-j4WwhFI/AAAAAAAABAY/IIzB1Do-Xyk/s1600-h/DSC00879.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259217619750257746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_38CODvWmSfY/SPx-j4WwhFI/AAAAAAAABAY/IIzB1Do-Xyk/s320/DSC00879.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow! Almost two months into my trip in China and this is my FIRST post. Unfortunately, there were plenty of technical difficulties that lead to this delayed post, but no matter...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm enjoying myself quite well as a foreign teacher at Sun Yat-sen University. The course schedule has been very hectic, with 8 classes a week at 80 minutes a piece. Three are writing, three are speaking, one is on American culture, and the last is for a exam prep class i co-teach with Ms. Carrie von Glahn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I seem to be noticing ups and downs with the students moods. Last week, i started had two writing classes on a Monday morning, and these kids were barely functional. We all know how it feels when you are a student in a class and you cannot stop your eyes from closing. It was frustrating to say the least, but I found some simple solutions to the problem this week, which involved standing-in-place warm-up exercises at the beginning of class.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's see what else... I miss being on my road bicycle at home and have probably made Carrie crazy talking about bike-related things so much. We all know how difficult it is to just stop taking part in a sport or hobby that you are used to doing daily, so I'm trying to find other outlets for my energy. I purchased a standard badminton racket and have been able to play with some of my students, so I hope that continues.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all that I'm going to post for now. I wish a warm hello to all the other teacher in China right now who are kicking butt and, hopefully, having a great time. All the best,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-1214640398597672236?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1214640398597672236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=1214640398597672236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1214640398597672236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1214640398597672236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/eagle-has-finally-landed.html' title='The Eagle Has Finally Landed...'/><author><name>troeray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05069981660240478302</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_38CODvWmSfY/SPx_DwwHYtI/AAAAAAAABAg/yhLaxbUGu3U/s72-c/P1010106.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-1794535725854199428</id><published>2008-10-18T11:03:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T05:18:44.933-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqiOvZ3c3I/AAAAAAAABxk/zwdwhX-907E/s1600-h/DSCF0688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqiOvZ3c3I/AAAAAAAABxk/zwdwhX-907E/s320/DSCF0688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258693889035301746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqgMVtub5I/AAAAAAAABxU/bslcREXJ6Xw/s1600-h/DSCF0682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqgMVtub5I/AAAAAAAABxU/bslcREXJ6Xw/s320/DSCF0682.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258691648756281234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqgMlU8CsI/AAAAAAAABxc/JN-V41KaChU/s1600-h/DSCF0683.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqgMlU8CsI/AAAAAAAABxc/JN-V41KaChU/s320/DSCF0683.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258691652947282626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was the best night I have had so far in China.  Now I realize that doesn't mean much because we usually do nothing but sit around and watch movies at night, but even so, last night was amazing, incredible and ridiculous.  After a long day of classes, I was looking forward to going out to dinner with Peter and Li Zhao, whom we had invited out to a Korean barbecue restaurant.  Karrin and Nick had been there once before, but for Olivia and I it was the first time.  It is similar to a hot pot restaurant, in that there is a central cooking area in the middle of the table and the meat is brought to the table raw and prepared in front of you.  Peter ordered for us and we had pork, beef, calamari and vegetables.  The food is cooked, then dipped in a variety of sauces and then wrapped in lettuce and eaten in one, big bite.  Peter explained that in Korea it is a tradition to feed your good friends.  So as yet another attempt to experience something new, we took turns feeding each other.  It was fun.  And strange.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a delicious and lighter alternative to the greasy, fried food we have become accustomed to eating here.  Of course, with a dinner like this comes a great deal of beer.  What starts as six bottles usually progresses to twenty-six, and before we know it everyone is singling and laughing, followed by a plethora of stares from onlookers.  About fifteen beers in, we decided to give Li Zhao an English name.  While Nick was adamant about "Thomas," he was outvoted by us girls, who felt that such a beautiful personality, such as Li Zhao's, deserves something a little more exquisite.  So we went with "Elvis" and decided his full name was "Elvis Thomas Li."  He was ecstatic and we heard about it the rest of the night. We'll see if he remembers it two days from now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towards the end of the meal, it was somehow or other suggested that we go to KTV.  In case it has not been explained, KTV means karaoke.  However karaoke is quite different here than in the U.S., we learned.  In the U.S. it is typically done in bars, where an unfortunate and usually intoxicated soul comes to the incoherent decision to sing Celine Dion or Shania Twain to a group of mocking strangers.  Here, however, KTV is done in a private room, just you and your friends.  This surprised me very much because we have all noticed that Chinese people love to sing.  We constantly catch people singing and they never seem embarrassed about it.  Our students, almost on a daily basis, ask us to sing.  We have even been asked to sing at the upcoming freshman showcase party.  It seems to be a singing culture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked into the building and it looked like a cheesy hotel from the seventies, with neon lights everywhere and psychedelic wallpaper.  "Where am I?"  I ask myself.  "Ahh, yes, China," the answer I so often find myself remembering.  Once inside the building, you are brought to a small room which contains a computer, two microphones, a screen for the music videos and couches.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqk2upQRoI/AAAAAAAABxs/TIBJ2Lrr3So/s1600-h/DSCF0698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqk2upQRoI/AAAAAAAABxs/TIBJ2Lrr3So/s320/DSCF0698.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258696775049430658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Almost immediately we were brought more beer and interestingly enough, kettle corn, which was a pleasant surprise.  The majority of the songs were in Chinese but we were able to locate a rather random list of English songs from the selections.  These were the English songs offered:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Fergalicious - Fergie&lt;br /&gt;2.  It's My Life - Bon Jovi&lt;br /&gt;3.  Beat It - Michael Jackson&lt;br /&gt;4.  Billie Jean - Michael Jackson&lt;br /&gt;5.  Butterfly - Mariah Carey&lt;br /&gt;6.  White Flag - Dido&lt;br /&gt;7.  Bailamos - Enrique Iglesias&lt;br /&gt;8.  Burn - Usher&lt;br /&gt;9.  Stop - Spice Girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we sang them all.  It was funny to see what had been designated as "American" music.  We sang horribly, danced clumsily and a few of us sat on the couch unable to move (won't mention names, you know who you are...)  Peter and Li Zhao also sang some Chinese songs, which we could not recognize or understood, but still enjoyed witnessing.  It was truly a sight to see.  Before we knew it, it was time to leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when we thought it was going to end, Peter suggested we get more beer.  He disappeared for a few minutes and came back with about twenty large bottles and two bags of spicy peanuts.  Li Zhao proceeded to open about six bottles using only chopsticks to pry off the cap.  We thought this was so miraculous and encouraged him to keep going.  He continued to open more and more bottles, none of which got drank.  Next it was suggested that we go take a walk on the track, an area frequented by students at this time of night.  So with beers and bowls of peanuts in hand, we headed out.  On the way however, I began to feel tired and decided to head back with Karrin.  The rest of the group walked the track and soon retired to their own rooms.  It was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up the next morning around eight to the sound of the badminton tournament outside my window.  Not only were there many, MANY students outside, but there were also cheerleaders.  Yes, badminton cheerleaders, shouting "ji yo!" at the top of their lungs.  "Ji yo" literally translates to "add oil" or "add fuel" but is considered the English equivalent of saying "common!" or "let's go!"  Who needs an alarm clock when you can have screaming cheerleaders at eight a.m.?  I pulled myself out of bed, realizing my students would be here to cook dumplings in only a few hours.  I felt like a high schooler who had thrown a party and had only a few hours to clean before their parents came home from their weekend vacation. The remnants of last night still lingered, and the did not smell good. As much as I wanted to crawl back in bed, it was time to mop, scrub, rinse and wash.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back on the night, it's hard for me to explain what was so amazing about it.  First, I think it was really exciting for us to finally see Peter and Li Zhao let loose a bit.  We are used to seeing them in their business suits, typing away at their computers and disciplining students.  We learned last night that they can party just as hard as anyone else.  Secondly, I realize this blog entry isn't especially profound or insightful, but I still value these experiences in China just as much as I value my experiences in the classroom, my time at the Shanghai Art Museum, or my cooking lessons with my students.  It is moments like these that connect us on such a simple level.  We some times have communication barriers with Li Zhao and sometimes we don't always understand exactly what Peter expects from us as teachers, but last night all of those obstacles seemed to disappear. No, not just because we all had a few too many.  It was much more complex than that.  It was the first time we let down our guards and were not concerned with "losing face."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-1794535725854199428?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1794535725854199428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=1794535725854199428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1794535725854199428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1794535725854199428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/last-night-was-best-night-i-have-had-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VeK5v_YL5ow/SPqiOvZ3c3I/AAAAAAAABxk/zwdwhX-907E/s72-c/DSCF0688.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-6617783583188739039</id><published>2008-10-18T10:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T10:42:43.201-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"that magic moment"...</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Well, I haven’t blogged in quite a while which means I have quite a lot to say.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ll try not to make it too long but considering it’s 9:14 on a Saturday night and I am already ready for bed I have loads of time.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The first thing I want to write about is the moment when I coined a term I like to use when I can’t describe things in any other way; I call it an “Oh yeah, I’m in China” moment.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;For the first few days of being in China everything seemed new but nothing had thrust me into an out of body experience like speaking for 6,000 freshmen plus about 5,000 or so spectators.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The higher-ups of the school like to have a foreign teacher officially welcome the freshmen every year and because I am teaching the most freshmen classes it seemed appropriate for me to do the job.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To be honest I wasn’t nervous.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I saw it as an interesting topic to write home about and I got over stage freight a long time ago.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even when I was on stage with the soviet–style march music blaring over the loud speaker and I was looking at the crowd of thousands I was so overwhelmed with the question “how did I get here?” that I didn’t have time to be nervous.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The entire front half of the audience was the freshmen in their military uniforms sitting straight up with their hands on their knees as they had been told to do. (Military training is mandatory for all university freshmen.) From a distance they looked a little severe but when you looked at each individual face they just looked like sweaty kids who couldn’t wait to get back to their dorms to surf (or “suffer” as my students often incorrectly call it) the internet.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I particularly enjoyed seeing the girls in their military uniforms around campus holding a pink water bottle and a lacy umbrella to keep the sun off their faces as they headed off to training.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, as I sat at the long table of bored looking Chinese officials and it got closer to my time to speak I thought the only thing that would make this scene anymore ridiculous would be to stand up and beat my arms on the podium and speak in low shouts in a style so popular around WWII. I could rile up the crowd until they threw their hats in the air and the girls wept with the beauty and power of my words.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, that didn’t happen but it went smoothly.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For the most part I didn’t really know exactly what they thought I said because it was all translated anyway.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Count that as “Oh yeah, I’m in China” experience #1.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SPn0u9JD4II/AAAAAAAAABY/OoBzwMDlnEY/s320/speech.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258503127455490178" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; " /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;The second one came soon after.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The climate, my apartment, or both don’t agree with me here so my allergies have been pretty bad.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was much worse at the beginning and finally went to the clinic I had been avoiding for so long.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have to say mom, if your reading this, it wasn’t exactly how I described it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I won’t say anything directly, but if you have ever seen the movie The Pianist, he camps out in a hospital at one point.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The movie could have easily been filmed in this hospital.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was only made worse by the fact that they were doing some kind of welding work outside my room so sparks were flying in the dim, unlit hall while I got an I.V. Yes, I had an I.V. and I have to say it wasn’t half bad.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;About halfway through the first of the four vials they prescribed I felt a million times better.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If I were a bit more of a germ-a-phobe I wouldn’t have had such a good time laughing to myself, soaking up the experience in all its exoticism.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have to say it was also helpful that the freshmen were doing their military training outside my window because I really got to know my Chinese numbers.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;YI-ER-SAN-SI!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;YI-ER!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;SAN-SI!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During my second round of I.V.s the next morning I met a really nice professor who was waiting with his little girl while she got an I.V. for her cold/fever.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Everyone associated with the school lives on the campus so it wasn’t unusual to see a family at the clinic.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fact, you see families everywhere at all times.) We had some interesting, enlightening conversation and his hopefulness for the China his daughter will grow up in was cautious but hopeful.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Overall, the clinic was an unexpectedly great experience in all.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Next time you come to China pencil in an I.V. and a pedicure.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;img src="webkit-fake-url://BB33F188-22F1-44E3-AC67-713BDF459CEC/image.tiff" /&gt; After those two experiences everything has been rather routine but I am hardly ever bored!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am teaching two sections of post-graduate non-English majors&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;once a week and one group of non-English doctorate students twice a week.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also teach one section of sophomore speech and debate and five sections of freshmen speaking and listening.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Each group truly brings something special to my time here in China.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I feel I can relate to the post-grads the best because they are all around my age.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are extremely intelligent students and are studying things such as ancient Chinese literature and applied psychology etc.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am probably a lot stupider than them but the fact that I speak English fluently will keep them off my scent for a few more classes.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Actually I really like all of them and there are so many I want to be closer friends with but that in its self is a problem.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;THERE ARE SO MANY!!!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mostly I walk home from class with a few of them and we have conversations about cultural differences between people our age.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Wendy, one of my monitors, is adorably responsible and has been really helpful in telling me what the students need and want.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As for the Ph.D.s I enjoy their company because they are much older.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;Because I had much older siblings and parents that never shied away from having me around their adult friends I like being around older people and I feel their responses to my questions and our discussions are very genuine.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately their English is probably the weakest of all my students. I haven’t gotten up the confidence to ask if I can meet their kids!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I see so many Chinese children everyday but mostly the closest interaction we have is them staring at me while I try unsuccessfully to make them laugh.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As for the freshmen, I don’t know any of them well enough yet to say much but they are very interested in me because I am the closest they will ever get to Kobe Bryant.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have to say though being in a class with them gives me a lot of energy because they are very eager to learn.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It almost feels like there is a vacuum in the room because they are so curious!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are always pulling for more and more information.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t wait to get to know more about them and get past the teasing and giggling relationship we have now.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;My end of the semester goal is to get the girls and boys to actually touch when they shake hands in their skits.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(For now some of them just put their pens together because they are too shy to touch each other.)&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What a differences from the hormonal freshmen at Skidmore who can’t wait to get their hands on anything mammal!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;I guess I will end my blog with two of my most recent “oh yeah, I’m in China” memories.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The first was last night when my tutor and Eliza’s tutor took us to a dance.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Dancing is very communal on college campuses.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They played the same three songs over and over again and everyone knew the steps.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At one point I felt like I was at a huge Bat Mitzvah.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We worked off quite a few calories and had a great time but all in all it wasn’t anything like the bumping and grinding at American dances.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;My final memory happened this afternoon and might be one of my favorites so far. On Friday I took a few of my sophomores to lunch and we were discussing what we do in our free time.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Two of them said they are in a Peking Opera club or at least that’s what their description sounded like.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The government suggested these clubs because interest in Peking Opera in younger generations is dropping but it is a very important cultural relic.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My students said there would be old people singing and playing instruments.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Old people singing and playing instruments! Next to puppies and babies that is my favorite thing!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They invited me to come, so this afternoon I found myself at the senior center tapping my foot and nodding my head along to some of the funkiest looking and sounding instruments I’ve ever seen.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The singing aspect is even more surprising.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They make one character (or part of a word) last for about 50 high-pitched notes.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was incredible!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I truly felt like I was having an intercultural experience.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am definitely going back next week.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;So far, all of this has taken place in Qufu, I will write about our travelling experiences some other time!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I made it to 10:30!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Time for bed!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-6617783583188739039?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6617783583188739039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=6617783583188739039' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6617783583188739039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6617783583188739039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/that-magic-moment.html' title='&quot;that magic moment&quot;...'/><author><name>HEARTSLEEVE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08207307590947454677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SPn0u9JD4II/AAAAAAAAABY/OoBzwMDlnEY/s72-c/speech.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-1007017776907457329</id><published>2008-10-10T03:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T03:57:19.838-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sun is Shining &amp; The Flies are Buzzing</title><content type='html'>Today is a beautiful, warm day here in Qufu. The sun is shining in a blue sky, and it feels like Spring. It is a nice reprieve from the cold, grey weather we have been experiencing for the past several days. It was beginning to feel as if we had skipped Autumn altogether and went straight to Winter. Thank goodness for an unexpectedly nice day.&lt;div&gt;Along with the sunshine have come small black flies, by the hordes. Olivia and Rachel have complained of fly infestations in their apartments, and while enjoying our lunch in the canteen this afternoon, Nick and I were continuously bothered by flies. In fact, upon leaving the canteen, we noticed a swarm of flies socializing on all of the chopsticks used in the canteen. NICE! Who needs a health code? Good for the immune system (at least, that's what we all tell ourselves so that we don't fast in fear of getting incredibly sick).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today has been a wonderful day. I have no Friday class, so I slept in a bit and read in bed for a while. I did some laundry, and after lunch I went to the post office with Rachel to mail some important documents home. I wanted to be sure they would not be lost in the regular mail, so Connie suggested I send them EMS (some version of express mail). Well that sounded like an excellent plan, until I went thru the entire process and was handed the receipt telling me I owed the post office 184 yuan. Yikes! Important, but not &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; important. Rachel had to leave before this point to get to class on time, so in my panic I called Connie and asked her to explain to the nice lady that I did not have the kind of money with me. Connie, being the kind and helpful person she is, rushed to my rescue at the post office. When she arrived she explained to me that there was a cheaper option for mailing my important documents, which would still be safe but would take a little longer. When she said this would cost only around 20 yuan I was relieved. But the post office by our school did not have this option, so I had to go downtown to the larger post office to mail my documents. Oy. Thankfully, one of my wonderful students happily agreed to escort me to the post office downtown. Since it is such a nice day, I suggested that we take a small, 3-wheeled motorized car (kind of like a souped up rickshaw). After speaking with the driver for a few minutes, Yolanda explained to me that it would cost 3 yuan each for him to take us where we needed to go because the vehicle he drives is illegal in that part of the city. I said that was fine. So we climbed into the rickety little van/car/rickshaw and buzzed and bounced our way downtown. Just to clarify: speedbumps + potholes = bruised tailbone. It was by no means a comfortable ride, but it was certainly thrilling. And by thrilling I mean I feared for my life, both there and back (as the kind driver offered to wait for us while we mailed my envelope so he could drive us back to Xingtan). I have decided there is no amount of money that would convince me to ever drive a car or ride a bike in this city. Even walking on the streets, one is putting his/her life at risk. But it's all part of the fun. I mean, the most excitement we get around here is drinking beer while playing Uno and watching a movie. So I enjoy a terrifying rickshaw/cab ride every now and then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am looking forward to the plans I made with Yolanda for tomorrow evening. She will be coming to my apartment with Mika, again. We will cook dinner, again, and watch a movie. Yolanda has also offered to tutor me in Chinese. Hooray for lovely Chinese friends!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-1007017776907457329?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1007017776907457329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=1007017776907457329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1007017776907457329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1007017776907457329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/sun-is-shining-flies-are-buzzing.html' title='The Sun is Shining &amp; The Flies are Buzzing'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-3582258645145298270</id><published>2008-10-08T12:03:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T12:16:32.845-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trains, Plains, and Paninis - A tale of Shanghai</title><content type='html'>The city of Shanghai is a bustling metropolis; fast paced, crowded, beautiful at times, skeezy (a combination of sketchy and sleezy, we'll say) at others. On the whole it makes for an amazing place to visit, due in part to the magnificent tourist attractions, the existence of a nightlife (something Qufu is in desperate need of), and a wonderful selection of western products such as sandwiches and wine. I also felt however, that part of what made Shanghai so fun to experience this past week was the "skeezier" side - the back alley behind our hostel, the kabab vendors who quietly whisper in a questioning manner "hashish? hashish?" as you walk past, and the knock off goods market (well, some are knock offs, some look like originals that "fell off the truck...") located in the subway stop underneath the Science and Technology Museum. Sticking with my recent theme of "the contrast," a.k.a. the giant two sided coin I have found China to be, I have found myself seeking out the contrasts in the few places I have visited - I feel it's good to find oneself somewhere in the middle of the two extremes a place like Shanghai has to offer. Stick with just the tourist traps and sightseeing and, while enjoyable, one feels like an ignorant American who is unwilling to see the "real" China; however spend too much time shopping in back alleys and sneaking around the streets of Shanghai late at night and the cheap shoes you couldn't resist buying will fall apart right after you get food poisoning - both literally and metaphorically. In part I feel it's almost that I simply enjoy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seeing&lt;/span&gt; that these places really exist - almost to marvel at them; relishing in the experience of a world dissimilar to one I am all too comfortable with. But a delicious tuna panini with a glass of freshly made apple juice (the woman literally had a juicer and some apples - I almost peed myself) on the side doesn't hurt at all. In fact, after a month of almost nothing familiar to eat and over sweetened half-juice, it's kind of like the first time you hear The Beatles (to quote Superbad).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Wednesday evening musings aside, I will do my best to share with all of you out there in blog-land last weeks adventure to Shanghai. The six of us left Qufu on Monday the 29th, or the week of the national holiday (celebrated October 1st). Lucy and Eliza arranged through Andy at Qushida to purchase our train tickets, and we were lucky enough to get afternoon tickets on the express train (a very comfortable ride - the seats where similar to an airplane but with more leg room), which, with a group of six traveling during the national holiday, was great. Not wishing to leave Eliza and Lucy to do all of the planning for our trip (Lucy had booked the hostel as well) Karrin, with the help of Kathy (another English teacher here at Xintan College), graciously arranged for a van taxi to take us to the train station in Yanzhou, about 30 to 35 minutes away. Unfortunately, the driver arrived almost 20 minutes late, drove a broken down pill-box of a van, and was somewhere in the realm of a Will Farrell in that movie about race car driving yelling "I WANNA GO FAST!" (what else is new). Kathy explained that we were in a hurry, so Rachel, Olivia, Karrin and I all piled in and were quickly at the front gates of Qushida where Lucy and Eliza met us, and off we went to Yanzhou; all the while desperately trying to breathe something other than the nauseating stench of exhaust mixed with the acrid taste of burnt oil quickly filling the back of the van. Knowing we were short on time, our driver took us on a frantic tear through downtown Qufu traffic, causing us to wonder if we were, in addition to missing our train, in fact destined to die horrifically in a head on collision with the smog monster brewing in the back of the van which I was convinced would take beastly form and lunge out in front of the van. Standard driving jitters aside, all seemed to be going according to plan - until of course the van broke down &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;in&lt;/span&gt; the tollbooth... What would the trip be without some crazy travel adventure (Don't worry, more of that to come)? We were half way to bailing on the guy (there happened to be several other cabs waiting nearby) when he finally got the van started again after adding several gallons of oil to the tank underneath his seat, and we managed to make it to the train station without further incident. As a side note, up until the hair razing cab ride I had not been on pins and needles in anticipation for Shanghai - not that I didn't want to go, I just hadn't gotten overly excited yet. The cab ride did it for me - I was ready to go. call me a sucker for action. Despite the lack luster service provided by the driver and his young daughter who accompanied us, I smiled a little bit as we were leaving because he did in fact seem like a very nice man, and the overall impression that I got from him was that he was happy to have the passengers (I'm still unclear whether he was a full time driver or if it was a side gig he has set up because he owns a van). Hopefully he wasn't stuck at the train station with a dead van all afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our hostel was located in the north-eastern section of the city, a few blocks above The Bund, and, just far enough out of town to really get a good feel for back street Shanghai. The location I actually thought was very neat, as we could walk two blocks and be at a Starbucks and the local metro stop (The Shanghai subway system is a model for any city: immaculately clean, on time, and well thought out) which daily stole us away to visit all that Shanghai had to offer; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzApNkfaRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/NRNg1qPVgaY/s1600-h/P1010497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzApNkfaRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/NRNg1qPVgaY/s320/P1010497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254786679484410130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;while at the same time walk 30 seconds to the street behind the hostel and buy just about anything anyone would ever want to purchase for anywhere from 5 to 50 quai. to the left is a picture of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the intersection&lt;/span&gt; of two streets. My favorite was the vendor who simply pushed a cart with his computer with a random assortment of USB, IPOD, and Flash Memory reader connections out to the middle of the intersection and put up a sign advertising MP3's and MP4's. Apparently this is a standard way to purchase music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That first night Karrin, Olivia, Rachel, and Lucy all went in search of a nightlife (I'll let them tell you that story) while Eliza and I stayed back in the hostel and talked with some other people staying for the week. There was a group of Canadian English teachers from Shenzhen (or Guangzhou? Near Hong Kong, anyway), some other random groups of people whom I can't remember, and Tom, a very relaxed Brit who, after recently graduating university was taking the better part of a year to travel to China, South Korea, Japan, and finally to spend six months as a snowboard bum in Whistler, B.C. He reminded me a bit of my cousin Zach. The six of us ended up traveling around with Tom for the better part of the trip, and he made a welcome addition to the group (not that, you know, I don't love spending every waking minute traveling for a year with five girls).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we attempted to purchase return tickets to Qufu, which ended up being a completely ridiculous adventure. We returned to the train station where we had arrived the night before, and went in search of the ticketing window. After wandering aimlessly into buildings, rooms, standing in the wrong line for a while, and in general walking around without any idea of where we were going, we finally asked for directions and slowly but surely made our way to the ticketing building. A completely separate complex with some of the most massive lines I have ever seen (with the exception of the museum we tried to visit later). The good news was that there was an English speaking counter - however it also was the window that had a special statement explaining that soldiers in the PLA could cut the rest of the line. This didn't happen until we were almost at the counter - the polite American tourists disappeared, and we delicately explained that they should all go to the end of the *&gt;!$ing line. When we finally did get to the counter, we were faced with an exceptionally lame outcome to our morning of searching - sold out. All that remained as standing room only tickets on a 9 hour overnight train Saturday evening. Afraid we would lose even that option if we waited, we purchased the tickets and decided to sort it out later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That afternoon we headed into the city and explored a bit around the museums and People's Park, as well as East Nanjing Road. The museums we were unable to visit that day because we failed to get there soon enough - the national holiday marked a "Golden Week" on the Chinese travel calendar and in celebration almost all of the museums were free for the week. This of course meant MASSIVE lines, so we opted to postpone the Shanghai Museum until the following day rather than stand for an hour and a half waiting to get in. East Nanjing Road proved to be a giant tourist trap. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzGVdsMddI/AAAAAAAAAD8/8N4lNP04HjA/s1600-h/P1010379.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzGVdsMddI/AAAAAAAAAD8/8N4lNP04HjA/s320/P1010379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254792937284072914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A complete sea of people, (see photo) in order to stay together we were forced to walk at a relatively slow pace and even stop at times. The only problem with this was that, whenever we were walking, let alone even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; about stopping, the barbarian hordes of the cheap goods underworld would accost us with little laminated cards advertising their shitty wares while all the while shouting some variation of "HELLO! HEY HELLO! WATCH? BAG? BELT? YOU WANT TO BUY WATCH?" The pushy ones even followed us after we began moving again, even though we very obviously were completely ignoring the fact that they were standing so close to us it was very obvious that they placed little value on toothpaste. The urge to throw the occasional elbow was not far from the surface, especially near the end of the first day. Later on in the week Tom and I returned to East Nanjing Lu (street) and toyed with the idea of walking into the middle of the crowded square and shouting, "FOR GOD SAKES WHY CAN'T I FIND A WATCH?!?" Just to see what would happen, but we were never brave enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we all went out to a bar near Xintandi (the trendy section of the French Concession, a mesmerizing neighborhood on the south western side of Shanghai proper). Eliza, Karrin, Rachel and myself decided to call it a night after a while, as we had plans to get up early for the museums the following day, leaving Olivia, Lucy and Tom to their own devices with nothing but the nightlife of Shanghai in front of them. Karrin found them giggling in the hall at 6 am the next morning. Apparently they had gone to a hip-hop dance club which stayed open until seven. They also, oddly enough, happened to run into recent Skidmore grads Ben Gallagher and John Wolfberg. You know, country of 1.3 billion - you're bound to run into somebody you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day Rachel, Karrin, and Eliza headed off to the museums and I was left to my own devices, as Lucy and Olivia were sound asleep from their long night, so I rode the metro across town to the back side of the french concession in search of a burrito restaurant/bar I had read about. Alas, it was too good to be true - I located the place with little trouble, however either because it was October 1st or simply because they decided to not serve lunch tat day, they were closed. Desperately hungry, I wandered the French Concession in search of something resembling a western meal until after about an hour I stumbled upon a magnificent coffee shop named "Saturday Coffee." A menu completely in English, options for spaghetti, sandwiches, cheesecake - yes cheesecake - and freshly made juice. Jackpot. I sat and enjoyed my sandwich in a dream like state, savoring every bight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still on a mild high from my lunch I continued my aimless meander through the French Concession, completely losing myself in the process. This was actually very fun, and after a while I simply started heading north and east, and after finding an amazing DVD store which I spent a good amount of time in, I finally made my way back to the subway station in peoples park, via another french bakery which sold RASPBERRY cheesecake (which I promptly purchased) and a wonderful garden oasis where I sat by a quiet pond and enjoyed my dessert. That night we all went back to the same club where Lucy and Olivia had met Ben and John the next night and had a grand time (there are some interesting pictures of me dancing, but what else is new), although I didn't stay out until 6 am (Lucy, Olivia, and Rachel took care of that for the rest of us).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in all of this the girls had been able to locate plane tickets from Shanghai back to Jinan, and decided that instead of taking their chances on the standing only train (we had heard some horror stories about not being able to use the bathroom, or really move at all for that matter), it was better to shell out the 400 yuan to fly home. Being unable to purchase anything costing more than a few dollars without having given a solid month to consider it(I blame this character trait on my dad), and half thinking it sounded like an adventure (like I said, I'm a sucker for action), I decided to take my chances with the Saturday evening, standing only, all night, nine hour train ride. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Back to Shanghai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was Thursday and I slept in a bit while Karrin, Rachel, Eliza, and Tom went off to explore the french concession. Olivia and Lucy wanted to see it as well, so the three of us set out to do the same. Despite being a repeat of the previous day I had a very nice afternoon walking around with Olivia and Lucy - and wouldn't you know it, we miraculously ended up back at Saturday Coffee! Oh hell, I guess we'll just have to settle for sandwiches and fresh squeezed juice again won't we...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we ate on the street. This is a good time I feel to mention some of the amazing Chinese food we found in Shanghai... While Karrin I felt was most fond of the "soupy dumplings" (pork dumplings with a delicious broth inside, oddly resembling the experience of eating a gusher), I personally was all about these personal soup hot pot style vendors we located on the first night. basically, you pick out skewers of vegetables, tofu, and meat (if you dare), combine with dried noodles of your choice, and put it all in a basket which they cook in this DELICIOUS broth and hand to you in a bowl. Amazing. Other big favorites was the morning fry-bred (if only we had cinnamon and sugar with us), and SATSUMAS! It took me a while to realize what exactly they were, but am now convinced they are a very close relative of the Satsuma oranges which you can get on the west coast around the holidays. They are also available now on the streets of Qufu, and have made our daily lunches ten times better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was Friday, and while the girls all packed up and prepared for their afternoon flight, Tom and I took to the city. First we traveled to the Shanghai Urban Planning and Exhibition Museum - an absolutely stunning five story exhibit of the city of Shanghai, past, present, and future. In 2010 the city of Shanghai hosts something called the "World Exhibition," and it looks simply amazing. The city is in the process of completing a completely new section of the city near the Pudong area of Shanghai - complete urban planning from the ground up. Tom and I agreed that it will be exciting to visit in 2010 and see some of these buildings which look to develop into just behemoth structures of modern urban architecture. Tom was looking to buy a sweater, so after spending the morning and part of the afternoon in the museum we went in search of a "cheap goods" market which we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; was located underneath the Urban Planning Museum. We of course were confused - the market we were looking for was located under the "Shanghai Science and Technology Museum," located across the water in a completely different part of the city. We spent the rest of the afternoon wondering around on a wild goose chase for the market, although I did almost buy a sweet coat (complete with belt buckle neck) in a store we found. That night Tom headed off as well, and I was left to myself in Shanghai for the evening and remaining day. That night on a whim I walked down the street until I found a beautiful little park on the water overlooking Pudong (where all the tall well lit buildings are - it made for an incredible night scene), and after enjoying the view for a while wandered back to the hostel, but not before purchasing a murse (man purse... it's really just a messenger bag) - an item I had been in search of all week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually really enjoyed exploring Shanghai on my own for the better part of Saturday. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzWY-sV5EI/AAAAAAAAAEE/fs4FUPCDZHg/s1600-h/P1010481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzWY-sV5EI/AAAAAAAAAEE/fs4FUPCDZHg/s320/P1010481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254810589868713026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I located the cheap good market Tom and I were in search of the day before (It was insane - you could buy everything from camera accessories to Chinese souvenirs to tailored suits to north face down jackets... some of the stuff total fakes, other stuff real, which just made you wonder how they were managing to sell authentic north face down jackets for insane, bargainable, prices), I sat and watched people fly kites near century park, took alot of really artsy fartsy photos of the steel structure located on the walk up to the Science and Technology Museum, bought a journal, and sat and considered the obnoxious train ride I had ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned to the hostel, prepared, ate a quick dinner, wrote, and headed out. The train left from Shanghai South Station which was a good 45 minute subway ride away (I ended up standing for the subway ride as well, which I was less than thrilled about), but I arrived with plenty of time. The train itself could have been a lot worse - when the group of us had heard the description previously in the week, we were all (myself included) imagining a cattle car filled to the brim with people. In actuality, it was a normal train car with seats - the only difference were people located in the isles. I spent the first four hours or so leaning against a seat, writing off and on and listening to music. It actually went by quickly. Around midnight a string of three different students, all from Shandong University in Jinan approached me to have conversations (always the same conversation; always awkward, never interesting) with me, and that took me up to about 2:30 or 3:00 in the morning. One of them gave me a teapot "so we could be friends." Such is China. At around 4, after the Zhaozhuang train station, some seats opened up and I spent the last 45 minutes passed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very happy to be back in Qufu - I think a city like Shanghai, filled with excitement and nightlife and many of the comforts of home I had been missing here in the Shandong countryside, is made all the more enjoyable to visit when you have a city like Qufu to return to. On the same coin, I'm very happy with Qufu and the quieter life I lead here, having experienced the fast paced China. Well that's all for now. I'm not going to apologize for a long post, I think they are quickly becoming the norm. One of these days I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;promise&lt;/span&gt; I'll get around to writing about the haphazard experiences/daily adventures of being a first time teacher - there are no travel plans in order for the near future, so have hope!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-3582258645145298270?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3582258645145298270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=3582258645145298270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3582258645145298270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3582258645145298270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/trains-plains-and-paninis-tale-of.html' title='Trains, Plains, and Paninis - A tale of Shanghai'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SOzApNkfaRI/AAAAAAAAAD0/NRNg1qPVgaY/s72-c/P1010497.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-7350686651500860683</id><published>2008-10-08T01:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T01:51:42.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The small things I really, really love about China:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. The Hair Affair: All the really "hip" Chinese boys style their hair in the most ridiculous way. It's usually grown out and wild, sometimes curled, sometimes straightened. Many chose to die their hair different colors, but some go beyond and actually bleach their hair, which turns their hair color into an interesting orange. I wish I had a collection of photos demonstrating the various styles. These styles can most commonly be found in hair salons; it is an absolute must for hair stylists to rock these styles. The best part of it all is that all these boys think they are being "Western," but that is not the case at all. The only Westerner that could pull of the Hair Affair is a rock star, and even then it's a little bit ridiculous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Nighttime Walking: At &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xingtan&lt;/span&gt; College, all the student couples walk around the track at night and hold hands. It makes me feel as if I'm at camp and all the campers sneak away from their cabins to meet their secret lover. The truth is that the nighttime walk makes sense because all the students have seven other roommates, so there is obviously no privacy. I love taking walks at night and seeing all the silhouettes of the couples walking around the track. When the weather is really nice (like it was last night), it seems like all of campus is coupled up and having their moment at the track. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Musical China: Everywhere I go, there is some sort of music blaring. When all the classes on campus are finished for the day, the speakers play an assortment of loud music for half an hour. The selection is quite interesting, ranging from Chinese pop to Christmas carols to Faith Hill. The bell that signifies class being over is an Irish jig; it makes me laugh every time, but my students just don't see the humor in it. Every store in China seems to think that it will attract customers by playing obnoxiously loud music with the door open. So, when you walk down the street, you are completely overwhelmed with a variety of music as you pass each store. There is also a KTV (karaoke) bar every direction I turn. So far, we have discovered 4 in our small town. One of them is the size of a very large building. It might have something to do with the Chinese loving to sing, and not being shy about it. All my students burst into song whenever they feel like it, and of course ask me to sing as well. I tried to explain to them that Americans are very shy about singing in public, especially when it's a known fact that you don't have a very good singing voice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. My Freshmen Students: Out of all four grades, the freshmen are the most excited about learning. They are also very excited to be speaking to a foreigner for the first time in their lives. On the first day of class, everyone in one of my freshmen classes told me I had beautiful golden hair and amazing big, blue eyes. All the boys told me I was very attractive. It may have boosted my confidence a little, but it was very awkward standing in front of the class and having students throw these compliments at me. A couple of my male students have stopped by my apartment to talk to me, and it was really nice getting to know them outside of the classroom. We talked about a variety of things, including their lives and what they hope to accomplish by learning English, but also spent time looking at their Chinese Facebook accounts. They were really determined to download QQ for me, which is a Chinese instant messenger, so I could talk to them online. It's been difficult for me to figure out how to approach being friends with a student; I have to make sure they respect me as a teacher, but as the same time, I am only three years older than them (the senior students are all 23, which is actually older than me!) and enjoy their company as friends. It seems to be working out so far, but we'll see how it all develops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-7350686651500860683?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7350686651500860683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=7350686651500860683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7350686651500860683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7350686651500860683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/small-things-i-really-really-love-about.html' title=''/><author><name>ojanczyk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16383815205304804264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-5039175386381580331</id><published>2008-10-05T01:59:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T04:51:46.912-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough love</title><content type='html'>A blog from Nick is always a tough act to follow, but here goes.  Two days ago we got back from our five-day trip to Shanghai, which was an incredible change of pace from our rather slow life in Qufu. It was both comforting and exciting to be in a more Westernized city (think Starbucks, pizza, a night life of any sort...) but it is also nice to be back home in Qufu (I've noticed I've been calling Qufu "home" quite a bit lately).  However I am not going to post about Shanghai but I am sure other teachers will soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been struggling to pinpoint my feelings towards China thus far.  I guess the best way to put it is that I have a love/hate relationship with China.  For example, I love my students, I love teaching and I love the jidan bing egg sandwich that I eat 1-2 times daily.  For the most part, I love my life in China.  But I can't help but feel frustrated towards my new "home" when I realize that I am denied some of the things I previously assumed to be universally available.  For instance, about a week before we left for Shanghai, our Skype stopped working.  One by one, we all eventually lost the ability to log on, receiving only a message stating that there was a problem with our server or network.  Frustrated, many of us have been writing to Skype and filing complaints, all to no avail.  We assumed that it was due to the weather, the spotty Internet connections, etc.  Yet about two weeks later we have come to suspect that something much larger and more calculated has caused our Skype to suddenly disappear.  Not only is Skype no longer working, but also other forms of online communication, such as Yahoo Messenger and iChat.  It becomes incredibly frustrating dealing with these issues and not being able to access certain things that have become blocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that this is one of the greatest benefits of living in a place so different: learning how to adapt and learning to be grateful for the things I didn't appreciate until I no longer had them. When I think about it, I have the same type of love/hate relationship with the U.S.  When I am in the U.S. in social work classes, reading the newspapers or discussing the upcoming election, it is easy to find the fault and criticize the country's policies.  However when I am abroad I realize the many civil liberties I had in the U.S. that I was blind to until I was without them.  I suppose that is one of my favorite things about being abroad: not only learning about a new culture, but also discovering new things about my old culture.  It is never until I am abroad that I count my blessings and realize how good I had it back at home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-5039175386381580331?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5039175386381580331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=5039175386381580331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/5039175386381580331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/5039175386381580331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/10/tough-love.html' title='Tough love'/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-87193209937996797</id><published>2008-09-23T09:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T09:32:09.609-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Qingdao</title><content type='html'>So this weekend as some of you may already know, Rachel, Olivia, Lucy, Eliza and myself (Karrin stayed back and made sure Qufu didn't miss it's foreign teachers) all hopped a Friday afternoon bus and took the five hour ride to Qindgao, the famous city by the bay. What we had heard about the Qingdao up to the point of us actually visiting, was that it was very famous for beaches, it was beautiful, the Olympic sailing events took place there, and last but certainly not least, that it was the home of Tsingtao beer. Additionally we had heard that the city, formerly a German occupied city had an interesting blend of Bavarian and Chinese architecture, which proved true for the most part. As we walked through parts of the old city, the European influence was unmistakable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and one more thing - our brief visit to Qingdao &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mysteriously&lt;/span&gt; coincided with the opening of the 19th annual Qingdao International Beer Festival, but we'll get to that in a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First things first - getting there. Earlier in the week we all took students to the bus station to help us buy tickets, without any real trouble. I went last and was lucky enough to snag the last ticket for the 2:30 bus. We arrived at the station with plenty of time to spare - we were all in the terminal ready to go by 1:50, which by Chinese standards is ludicrously early for a bus (...so we were a bit nervous, it being our first bus trip without a translator). At any rate, as we sat in the station, watching everyone around us hurriedly get in lines at terminals and get on buses which didn't leave right away, we of course became worried that we wouldn't get good seats if we waited until 2:20 to board like our students had said. After fumbling with phrasebooks, pointing, grunting, and pantomiming our destination and time of departure we established that we should be leaving from terminal two, however the woman at terminal two kept telling us to sit down and wait, which got us even more nervous. Was she that person we had read so much about, trying to stick the foreigners with the bad seats? Knowing we didn't speak Mandarin, trying to squeeze the extra dollar out of us? Lucky for us, she wasn't pulling a fast one on us (that comes later in the trip) - she simply knew something we didn't. At about 2:20 (go figure) she comes over to the group of us, and says "Qingdao this way please" the five of us, relieved that we would finally be on our way, walked up to the gate, handed our tickets, walked outside to the buses, and continued to walk past all the buses... over toward the gate... and right for an old, rickety seven seater van. If only I had taken a picture of the van. At this point of course we were all thoroughly confused as to what was happening - were we really taking this rickety old thing all the way to Qingdao? Were they kidnapping us? ...oh well, no time for that now, everybody in the van. Luckily there were two other Chinese travelers with us, so we were generally sure they weren't in fact attempting to kidnap us, but it was still a bit unnerving. Turns out, the 2:30 Qingdao bus doesn't leave from Qufu, but rather it swings past on its way from another town. The rickety van pulls off the road next to the highway, the bus drops off the interstate and picks you up, and away you go. We of course took the last five seats on the bus (at least we had them was the feeling), and I ended up stuck in the very back with the middle seat (the one that opens up into the isle so when the driver slams on the breaks you fly all the way down the isle because there isn't a seat in front of you...), with two people on either side of me and no air vent. Did I mention it was a five hour ride? So it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally arrived in Qingdao after our long, terrifying ride (the driver was insane - even the Chinese passengers were angry and cursing under their breath) at about 8:15 at night. Our destination was a youth hostel we had located on hostel world international, however we neglected to have anyone translate the address and location into Chinese (why would we need to do that? It's just an address...) Taxi was the logical method of travel, and upon exiting the bus station we were greeted by a sea of them who we happily approached and began attempting the translation of our destination. Luckily Olivia's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lonely Planet&lt;/span&gt; guidebook had the address of the hostel in Chinese, but the cabby's didn't seem to have any idea on WHERE exactly the street was (this later made sense, once we realized exactly how massive Qingdao is...). Finally one of them seemed to understand our destination and held up a 5 and made the sign for 10, meaning he wanted 50 yuan to take us in his cab. Now is a good time for a brief lesson in the golden rules of Chinese cab drivers - always use the meter. always make sure they start the meter when you ENTER the cab (not keep it running from the previous fare). Make sure they actually know where they are going so they don't decide to drive around in circles to run up the meter. Upon realizing this guy wanted a very large sum of money for the ride we promptly walked away from the group of about 10 or so drivers who were all haggling over our fair and went to the street where other cabs would pull up every ten or fifteen seconds or so. Getting these cabs to take us was equally as difficult, but thanks to a very nice Chinese family who volunteered their English speaking daughter to translate for us, we made it (if i haven't mentioned it before now is a good time - in general, Chinese hospitality and kindness is unrivaled) to our "hostel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hesitate to call it a hostel, because as soon as we saw Kaiyue Youth Hostel, we knew it was going to be a good trip. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNi8fNqDJhI/AAAAAAAAACU/dX-ph5Znx-I/s1600-h/P1010216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNi8fNqDJhI/AAAAAAAAACU/dX-ph5Znx-I/s320/P1010216.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249152610128307730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The building itself is an old Christian Church from the 1920's - a five or so story building in the heart of old Qingdao. It was most a hotel attempting to disguise itself as a hostel, and charging you hostel rates. We had two rooms to our selves which were very comfortable and fully furnished, and we had our own bathroom (nicer than all of our bathrooms back here in Qufu). The picture is the room which Olivia, Rachel, and I stayed in. As you can see, not huge, but for a "hostel," it was fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The lounge/restaurant was the highlight a mood-lit room with big couches and personal booths, with a pool table lit with chill European style hanging lights, playing good ambient music, which blended well with the very relaxing water feature on the back wall made for a great atmosphere. The fare was the best part however - not only did they serve REAL drinks (not just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Baijiu&lt;/span&gt; and beer), but they had pizza, french fries, western style breakfasts, the whole nine yards. We of course immediately ordered four pizza's which we promptly devoured, laughing hysterically. The hostel was full of other &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;waigoren&lt;/span&gt; who were visiting for the festival and I'm sure they thought we were crazy - the pizza wasn't really that good, but to the five of us who had been away from anything resembling comfort food for almost four whole weeks, it was heaven. On Sunday when we left I took several photos of the lounge and upon returning to Qufu I attempted a Panorama of the lounge. It came out okay - well enough for you to see what the hostel lounge looked like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNi-VoQEXNI/AAAAAAAAACc/WcDbK3BnC3Y/s1600-h/hostel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNi-VoQEXNI/AAAAAAAAACc/WcDbK3BnC3Y/s320/hostel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249154644491656402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our pizza we decided to check out the nightlife and took a taxi across town to a place called The Lennon Bar" which apparently was where a lot of westerners liked to visit. It was pretty empty but there was a live band playing decent music, so we hung out for a bit before heading back to the hostel and eventually on to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjbdLGBHlI/AAAAAAAAACk/LOEccwbIuhk/s1600-h/P1010227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjbdLGBHlI/AAAAAAAAACk/LOEccwbIuhk/s320/P1010227.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249186659941031506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjbdyffEBI/AAAAAAAAACs/M98GRQme3AU/s1600-h/P1010232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjbdyffEBI/AAAAAAAAACs/M98GRQme3AU/s320/P1010232.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249186670516834322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saturday morning we woke up around 8:3o or 9 after sleeping peacefully. I tried the "American Style Breakfast" down in the lounge which was mediocre at best... the sausage was more rubber than meat, the "hash brown" was a silver dollar sized portion of something out of a freezer (which I found ironic because potatoes are abundant, and hash browns are one of the FEW things which they could very easily cook from scratch), but the eggs and toast were good. After I filled up on breakfast and the girls had their coffee we headed out to see the sights of Qingdao. We had a map with us and decided to try our luck at walking for a bit, and wound our way through the streets and eventually made our way to the coast. Qingdao has some cool things to see, as witnessed below: I Think my favorite is the sign explaining that it was in fact a "European Style&lt;br /&gt;Street..." The picture of the skyline doesn't do the city justice - this is actually only a small section of the western part of the city. The much newer and much nicer central part of the city isn't pictured. I did However very much enjoy the stark contrast of the mountains rising high above the city just minutes from the water. I also really, really wish I had had climbing shoes, a week, and a whole lot of gear with me when I saw some of these mountains...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjo8z6Al-I/AAAAAAAAADM/wQJ-jmNusL8/s1600-h/P1010248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjo8z6Al-I/AAAAAAAAADM/wQJ-jmNusL8/s320/P1010248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249201497123624930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjuipeZDTI/AAAAAAAAADc/7-n8ptwIdL0/s1600-h/P1010251.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNjuipeZDTI/AAAAAAAAADc/7-n8ptwIdL0/s320/P1010251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249207644716600626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a very fun afternoon enjoying the waterfront and surrounding parts of Qingdao, and after getting a delicious lunch at a place we found on the street, we decided it was definitely time for a visit to the beer festival. Who doesn't love international beer festivals? On our maps was the location of the "Qingdao International Beer City," which appeared to be a bit of a drive away, so instead of paying high taxi fares we took the number 4 bus which took us all the way across town to the beer festival - about a 45 minute ride. It was a very cool drive which ran along the southern border of the city (right on the water for parts) and gave us a very good feel for the layout of Qingdao and what it had to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beer festival was, in a word, fantastic. The "Beer City" is much like a fairground. Massive, filled with carnival rides, over priced food vendors, cheap fair goods (like hilarious beer hats), a giant statue of the world announcing your arrival at Qingdao International Beer City, and beer tents. Lots of beer tents. It was interesting to see the parents walking happily with their children to all the fair rides and events while being feet away from a MASSIVE tent where people were drinking themselves silly listening to techno at volumes beyond comprehension. There were about seven or 8 different German beer companies there, and we chose which ones to visit based partly on how loud it was inside their tent. We arrived at the festival at around 1:30 and wandered around for a bit, sampling food and just taking in the festival before exploring the beer tents themselves. There were a good number of westerners at the festival, however many of them European. The only other Americans we ran into were mostly college students studying abroad - however we never actually hung out with any groups of foreigners. It is important to note that the only beer you can get with any frequency in China is a half dozen very light lagers, much like a Budweiser. The Chinese beer tends to be better than that, but it's all the same style, so a change of pace was greatly appreciated. I sampled a delicious stout (well more of a brown than a stout) as well some delicious hefeweizen. We slowly tried different beers and enjoyed the stage shows of different tents for the better part of the afternoon, until about 5:00 in the afternoon or so, at which point we were all a bit weary. This turned out to be only the beginning of our experience at the beer festival - when it seemed as if we were all getting to the point of retiring back to the hostel for a nap followed by an excursion exploring the other nightlife options of Qingdao, a funny thing happened... Walking through one of the tents, we began to notice a startling increase in the crowds. Tables were filled - everybody was drinking. And sure enough, exactly what we had read about began to happen... tables of Chinese businessmen, in varying states of intoxication, began standing up whenever we drew near, began shouting and waving at us at the top of their lungs, and immediately either pouring us glasses of whatever beer they were drinking, or just skipping the middle man and handing us the pitchers and running off to buy new ones. This went on from about 6 to 10. I danced alot, Eliza was interviewed by some Chinese news station, we were challenged to more &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;gambei's &lt;/span&gt;(bottoms up toast, usually put forth in a very loud yell, kind of like GAMBEEIIIII!!!, which it is of course extremely impolite to refuse, especially if your host is providing the drinks...) than I'd care to count. we somehow managed taxi's back to the hostel, the girls stayed down in the lounge talking with some people from Shanghai, I went to sleep, and that's all that needs to be said about the Qingdao beer festival...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning Lucy and Eliza caught a 7:50 am bus back to Qufu, due to obligations back at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Qushida&lt;/span&gt;. Rachel, Olivia, and myself slept in and took the 3:40 bus, after visiting "technology street" so Rachel could get an external hard drive (a ridiculous street dedicated to back alley computer vendors selling motherboards out of piles on the street mixed in with big box stores featuring name brands such as Lenovo, Apple, Dell, etc.). The bus ride home was in itself uneventful - long, however not as painful (we all had decent seats this time). The fun began when we arrived in Qufu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or at least the outskirts of Qufu. Remember how the bus picked us up before on the side of the road on the outskirts of town? Well this time we were prepared - we figured they might pull the same stunt on us, and sure enough the bus pulled up along side the side of the road and the driver and his assistant gruffly pointed out the door and made grunting noises indicating we should get off. The only problem with this however, was there wasn't the rickety old van to take us into the city. There was however a single car with a driver who came over and began gesturing at us to come over and get in, and the bus driver(s) almost insisted that we do so. Our initial thought was that there were only three of us this time, so why send a van when you could just send a car? But wait - what about the other seven Chinese passengers who just got off the bus too, and who after a heated and angry discussion with the bus driver decided to walk into the night toward the signs pointing for Qufu? Oh hell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time of course we were already halfway in the car with our bags in the trunk and before we knew what was happening we were driving away, luckily toward Qufu. The driver of course wanted 40 yuan to take us the remaining distance into the city. Rachel called one of her students who has been extremely helpful at a variety of different times here in Qufu, and we handed the phone to the driver so we could figure out what the HELL was going on and to figure out whether or not we had just been kidnapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She talked him down to 30. He took us right to the front gates of the college, probably would have been about a 15 - 20 yuan cab ride, so it wasn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;terrible&lt;/span&gt;... but we definitely got the shaft. The bus was supposed to of course drive us all the way into the city, which was why the Chinese passengers were so upset. John, our guru and all knowing master when it comes to Qufu (graduated Skidmore in 2004, has been in China off and on since, however now he works about 45 minutes away in another city), said it was probably sketchy bus drivers and the guy in the car was probably a friend of theirs. So not everybody is all about showing hospitality. All in all though I've had FAR more positive experiences than negative ones, and it makes for a good story. The weekend as a whole was amazing - I loved traveling and can't wait for next week when the six of us will travel to Shanghai and meet up with Travis and Carrie for the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that's all for now, sorry this was such a long post! Gives you all something to read off and on for a few days... keep you busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. We're actually teaching and working hard during the week - despite what all our posts may make it sound like... It's just more interesting to write about the travels!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-87193209937996797?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/87193209937996797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=87193209937996797' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/87193209937996797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/87193209937996797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/qingdao.html' title='Qingdao'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SNi8fNqDJhI/AAAAAAAAACU/dX-ph5Znx-I/s72-c/P1010216.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-88046463318195878</id><published>2008-09-20T23:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T16:31:17.982-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Friends, Old Habits</title><content type='html'>As I write this, Rachel, Olivia, Nick, Eliza, and Lucy are enjoying the last bit of their Qindao adventure. They spent the weekend there for the International Beer Festival. I stayed here for the weekend to save money for our Shanghai trip and to force myself to survive independently in Qufu. So far, so good. &lt;div&gt;Friday evening I left the comforts of my apartment for a brief dinner run. As usual, I ordered dinner on the street from my noodle man (or so I call him). He's a very animated and friendly guy who stir fries homemade noodles with some veggies in a bit of vinegar and about a quart of peanut oil. I have decided this year is less about eating healthy and more about eating to survive. When I am hungry, I eat whatever I can get. I intend to do a year of detox upon my return home. After grabbing my bag of greasy noodles and a side of greasy, freshly-made bread I scurried back to my comfortable little hole. I entertained myself for the remainder of the evening with some episodes of Rescue Me and Sex and the City.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; Saturday was a productive day. I spent a the morning hours preparing for my first elective lesson on Monday. I am making a lengthy powerpoint show, which I am filling with photos to keep my students entertained. I anticipate a large class of about 100. Yikes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the afternoon I met up with one of my students, Yolanda, who has been kind enough to show me around Qufu and help me purchase a cell phone (which I did yesterday). After cell phone shopping, we went to a large department store to get some groceries. Yolanda suggested that we cook some traditional Chinese dishes in my apartment, which of course I was all too excited for. We invited her best friend (another one of my students) to join us for cooking and dining. The girls happily made themselves busy in my kitchen for about an hour, preparing 5 dishes. Among my favorites was a cold bean noodle dish with thin slices of ham, cucumbers, and carrots, tossed in a spicy mustard oil and vinegar sauce. I also thoroughly enjoyed the warm scrambled egg and tomato dish and the tofu soup. We ate and talked for at least an hour, then after digesting a bit, we did what most students do after dinner: walk the track. We did several laps, chatting all the while. At one point we got on the topic of homosexuality and the issue of gay marriage. I had expected it to be a rather touchy subject, but we enjoyed a brief, mature conversation about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We closed the evening with promises to cook again, and with a plan to watch a movie together in the near future. Yolanda and Mika love horror movies (perfect)! It was a wonderful evening, and I now feel less lame for having skipped the trip to Qindao. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just spoke to Rachel, and she said they will be back to Xingtan around 9pm. That leaves me around 9 hours in which to keep myself occupied and entertained. I plan to heat up the leftover tofu soup for lunch, then spend the rest of the afternoon finishing my powerpoint for tomorrow's fashion class. I'm sure there will be some episodes of Rescue Me and Sex and the City tossed in their somewhere. What can I say? There are some habits from home I just can't bring myself to break. Watching comfort movies and TV shows is definitely one of those.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-88046463318195878?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/88046463318195878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=88046463318195878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/88046463318195878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/88046463318195878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/new-friends-old-habits.html' title='New Friends, Old Habits'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-7109027276339836002</id><published>2008-09-18T04:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T20:49:01.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>time flies</title><content type='html'>I have been in China for 4 weeks today. It is hard to believe that almost a month has passed since I first arrived. It feels like only yesterday that I wandered off of a plane in Jinan and onto a van to Qufu. Yet, after only 28 days I feel incredibly comfortable in my life here. Today is grey and humid. My students are writing away this morning in my Postgraduate class, fanning themselves in the thick ari. I am definitely ready for the fall to come. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the past two days I have been teaching my postgraduate students how to write a paragraph and how to write instructions. The first half of the class--paragraph structure--has been very boring an quiet. I've yet to learn how to make topic, support, and concluding sentences fun.  But each time I get to instruction writing, the students seem to become a bit more lively. Perhaps it is easier to understand. Perhaps it is that they think I'm an idiot when I ask them to write instructions for how to make a cup of tea. Stupid American who only knows coffee. teaching writing has been challenging though, especially with my postgraduates. They are all very smart people, they have taken numerous test that have allowed them to continue their studies and so it is difficult to gauge what is helpful and new to them and what is simply pedantic and condescending. I am looking forward to moving beyond some of the more "practical" writing subjects and into narrative and descriptive writing where hopefully my skills as a native English speaker--and writer--will be more overtly helpful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend the Qufu crew and myself will leave Qufu for the second time. As Rachel recently told you we went to Jining for an afternoon last weekend. It was nice to see a larger city and something other than Qufu and Confucius. Though Jining is a bigger city, it has very little tourist appeal and so I can understand the increase in Hallos and stares. Tomorrow we leave for Qingdao, a much more economically developed city and a city with a rich history since the end of the 19th century. Germans occupied the city in 1897 until the end of World War I during which time the city underwent rapid development with the introduction of electricity and a railroad connecting it to Jinan, the province's capital.  And so because of its German heritage, Qingdao is known as "China's Switzerland". It is a strange, but apparently very beautiful mix of architectural styles. It is also home to the world famous Tsingtao beer. And it is not coincidence that we are going for the first weekend of the International Beer Festival. As much fun as Qufu has been, it has little in the way of nightlife so it will be a nice change of pace. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we return from Qingdao, I will have seven straight days of teaching as we have to make up classes for the time we have off during National week (Sept 29-Oct 5).  During this time the Qufu crew will head to Shanghai and meet up with Carrie and Travis. It will be a busy, but exciting few weeks and so it's time for me to get ahead on lesson plans. Wish us luck!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-7109027276339836002?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7109027276339836002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=7109027276339836002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7109027276339836002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7109027276339836002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/time-flies.html' title='time flies'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-7574653898629329290</id><published>2008-09-16T22:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T00:23:45.712-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mid Autumn Day</title><content type='html'>On Saturday night, all six of us, along with two of our students, went out for one of our favorite meals: hot pot. In case it has not yet been explained, hot pot entails a large soup pot in the middle of the table with a flame under it. You order food such as vegetables and raw meats which cook themselves when added to the boiling broth. It is delicious, it is fun and the best part...it is unlimited. A waitress repeatedly checks on you to ensure that you pot it always filled. At dinner, Lucy and Eliza's student, Mike, invited us to visit his hometown of Jining the following morning. We had the upcoming Monday off due to the holiday, leaving us Sunday to work on our lesson plans. We happily accepted his invitation and the next morning met up around 11:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For 12 yuan we were able to take the bus from Qufu to Jining, about a forty-five minute ride. Jining was a great city, bigger than Qufu but certainly not as large as Bejing or Shanghai. We had lunch and walked around for a few hours. I had hoped that because it was a larger city perhaps they more more used to foreigners and we would have less "halloooo!" encounters, but alas, we were not so fortunate. I liked Jining because it was greener than Qufu, trees lined the streets and there were spacious parks, one which even had a large Ferris wheel! Maybe I am speaking too soon because I still haven't had time to sufficiently explore Qufu, but I can't remember the last time I saw a tree here....but Qufu is home and I love it just the way it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We closed our visit to Jining in the perfect way: at a coffee shop. Aside from the just add water Nescafe that was given to us as a gift on Teachers Day (because every Chinese person knows just how much Americans love coffee, KFC and Walmart!), we have yet to discover real coffee. Spotting this coffee shop was like finding an oasis in a desert. We were thrilled and couldn't order fast enough. The coffee shop had much higher prices than we were used to, but Karrin, Olivia and I had to splurge. We ordered a "pot" of coffee, thinking we would each get about two large cups out of it. Turns out the pot consisted of three shots of espresso. It was still delicious and satisfied our craving. We were extatic for the next seven minutes and couldn't stop laughing. Luckily Nick caught the whole thing on video...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we made it back to Qufu where we stumbled upon a song and dance performance for Mid Autumn Day. We ran into our students and decided to go for a walk on the track with them. On our way over, we were caught off guard by a freshman who came running up to Olivia, asking her if he could chat in order to practice his English. The boy walked the track with us and eventually confessed that he had heard that the foreign teachers enjoy walking the track at night. I guess Liz, Chelsea, John and other past foreign teachers made this a hobby which the students soon caught onto. He said that he had been coming to the track every night and was thrilled that he had finally located us. It was hilarious. I am still not used to the fact that people want to chat with us and take pictures with us, but I certainly don't mind it either. Though we didn't celebrate the Mid Autumn Festival in the traditional way, we put our own Western spin on it and truly had an enjoyable weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-7574653898629329290?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/7574653898629329290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=7574653898629329290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7574653898629329290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/7574653898629329290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/mid-autumn-day.html' title='Mid Autumn Day'/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2970653985333474136</id><published>2008-09-12T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T23:28:07.618-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Contrast</title><content type='html'>For the past few days I have been trying to figure out how to capture an image, a moment, an event which exemplifies my new Chinese life, and I haven't been able to do it. There are so many small things which, after experiencing them once, it is difficult to remember why we ever noticed them in the first place. Adaptation has been paramount to survival - which is something that I think we all knew coming into this, and really, is one of the reasons we agreed to take such an adventure, but there is no preparation that can be done for this adventure (Well okay, learning Mandarin would have been moderately decent prep, but such is life). I know that myself and the other &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;waigouren&lt;/span&gt; (foreigner, for those who don't know) are loving every minute, and because of that I've been trying to capture why it has been amazing but I'm really not sure it can be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way to the second banquet of the week last night, I decided that the best way to show my life was not by taking pictures of the strange juxtapositions of old and new, wealthy and poor, familiar and unfamiliar, which I encounter on a daily basis, but rather attempt to describe the few things which have become commonplace in my life day to day and week to week, in a feeble attempt to show you all a bit of whatQufu is like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daily lunch routine which the four of us have slipped into typically involves an array of street vendors located just outsideXintan's main gate - the same carts are there day in and day out, a large cluster of push carts, three wheeled bicycles with large coal cookers on the back, tents with tables and stools (I'l l have to take a picture of a Chinese stool, they're about a foot off the ground, hardly large enough for your butt, and somehow comfortable), fruit dealers, women frying strange looking spam skewers, a cart with about 10 soup pots, and a random smattering of other foods. An interesting side note - all things are given to you in a small plastic bag.Imagine when you go to the grocery store - the little bags which they put the meat in so its separate from the other food? yeah, imagine a clear bag a bit thinner than that, and there you go. And when I mean you get everything in these bags, i mean EVERYTHING. including soup. We don't buy soup on the street, mostly because it comes in plastic bags. Anyway, so the four or five different options which we have deemed safe to eat (this is an arbitrary distinction, based mostly on taste as apposed to any health concerns which may be present) have become a constant rotation. First and foremost is what we endearingly call the "bing," or more accurately, it is a "Jidan Bing." It consits of an egg scrambled in a wok with green onions, carrots, and cabbage placed inside a warm piece of flat bread (very similar to a pita) with a red bean sauce on the inside - it costs about 1quai 5, or roughly 21 cents. Another staple is bao  zi (pronounced kind of like "bowza"), which is similar to a steamed dumpling - they come in a wooden tray called a jin - 10 pieces to a jin . Along with it comes a bowl of soup which we have named "snot soup," because it has egg in it which resembles snot, and the first time we ever ate thereKarrin and myself witnessed the lady making the dough blast a big snot rocket onto the sidewalk in the middle of kneading dough. You learn to ignore the little stuff that normally would gross you out, I guess. Third, there are two carts which sell what we have dubbed the giant spring roll. It's like a burrito, but filled with shredded vegetables, very similar to a spring roll. Finally, one of my new favorite vendors is a noodle and fried rice guy - he has his coal heated wok, a bucket of noodles, a tub of rice, and three bags of vegetables - usuallyshredded carrots, potatoes, and cabbage. You point to which one you want, he fries it. Can't go wrong for 2 quai. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The downside to street food is the oil. Everything is oily. At the banquet last night the president of the college asked us if we thought Chinese food was too oily - I responded by saying if you seek out balance with fruit it'smanageable, but there is no denying the excessive amounts of oil which you find in everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner typically is a much more complicated affair - most restaurants, however delicious they may be, have old menus written entirely in Chinese. Luckily, we have a conversion chart given to us by one of the foreign teachers at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Qushida&lt;/span&gt; who has been here for 15 or so years. Even still, pointing to dishes they may or may not have, stumbling with the phrase "what do yourecommend?" (also very dangerous to ask, we've decided - you never know what you're going to get) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the ubiquitous Chinese banquet. We've had the pleasure of two of these this week, and they consist mostly of everyone sitting around a table filled with enough food to feed the party three times over (this is the tradition, if the food gets anywhere near being gone, they immediately order more - leaving food on the table is polite and indicates you are full, so the more food which is left the more satisfied you must be... we try not to think about waste), eating and consuming largeamounts of either Chinese Wine ( &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Baijiu&lt;/span&gt;), or beer. After the first banquet this week, I decided to make a permanent transition to beer only - I will quote one of our closest Chinese friends for anexplanation as to why: "Drinking is very important to Chinese culture... it's almost like a competition, wouldn't you agree?" ...Yes Peter, I would agree. The good news was that I was much more composed at the second banquet - after four years of college you get good atskulling 5 oz containers of cheap, light beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These banquets are usually held in very nice establishments, however one thing I have noticed they tend to be kind of sticky - the lazy susan's especially (everything here is served on lazy susan's by the way, and I highly recommend Americans adapt this concept because its amazing), and many of them have flies buzzing around them. The room last night had a beautiful vase off to the side with a fly swatter sticking out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the types of contrasts I've become accustomed to: the snot rocket next to the dough, the flies buzzing over our heads at dinner with the president of the college, the peasants weldingmattress frames on the street next to the hair salon, the fine layer of coal dust coating the window sills of the classrooms, the Audi whizzing past the three wheeled tractor spewing black smoke and pulling a trailer full of mortar or hazardous materials or apples or some combination of the three. I don't know if this really does any justice to daily life inQufu, but hopefully it's a glimpse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's all for now - we just got paid yesterday (I'd like to point out that I have lived comfortably on the 100 dollars which I converted in the airport until now), so a grocery shopping expedition is in order. Happy Mooncake Festival!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2970653985333474136?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2970653985333474136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2970653985333474136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2970653985333474136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2970653985333474136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/contrast.html' title='The Contrast'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-8721174043687052977</id><published>2008-09-10T03:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T03:40:28.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Teacher's Day!</title><content type='html'>When I walked into my early morning class today, I was pleasantly surprised to find a rose on my podium. I was also greeted with 35 smiling faces and 35 voices cheerfully wishing me a Happy Teacher's Day. Peter had told us about this, but I had forgotten. Since teachers are highly respected here, it's a holiday that is actually observed and celebrated. So Happy Teacher's Day to all of my fellow Laoshi!&lt;div&gt;Last night the six of us here in Qufu were invited to a banquet to welcome all of the foreign teachers. It was a very nice dinner, and the food was delicious. I especially enjoyed the deep fried shrimp, which closely resembled popcorn shrimp (only they were much better). For the most part, the girls sat at two of the tables, and the guys sat at their own table, so as to engage in their custom of many toasts=heavy drinking. We girls sipped some very concentrated juice and Chinese tea. I met one of the ELIC teachers from Qu Shi Da, named Lisa. She was very friendly, and I enjoyed talking with her. I also heard about Lucy's speech, given to over 10,000 people. I really wish I could have been there to witness it. Kudos to Lucy for maintaining enough composure to carry out such an honor!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I now find myself with a stack of over 60 notebooks containing the most recent HW assignment from my writing classes. Needless to say, I have plenty to fill my "idle" hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-8721174043687052977?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/8721174043687052977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=8721174043687052977' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/8721174043687052977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/8721174043687052977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/happy-teachers-day.html' title='Happy Teacher&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2397733873163901148</id><published>2008-09-08T06:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T09:29:44.575-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank goodness for the group</title><content type='html'>Much like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Karrin&lt;/span&gt;, Olivia and Rachel commented before me, I have been experiencing the same, cries of  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haaaloooo&lt;/span&gt;!!!, the awkward stares, and the mild culture shock (Although I will say the attention certainly plays to my narcissistic side...). As I read through their posts and hear their interpretations  of the events I remember from any given day, it has really struck me how much we are going to rely on each other as a group this year. As amazing as this experience is, when it comes to moral support and needing someone to understand, we are hopelessly alone in this foreign place. The good news is we all get along great and for the most part have similar interests - although being the only guy between &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Qu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;shi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Qufu&lt;/span&gt; Normal where Eliza and Lucy are) has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; been interesting at times - my off color jokes and obscure movie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;references&lt;/span&gt; just don't mesh as well as they used to with "the boys."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I'm excited what the year holds in store for us and our group - I've always been the type of person to want to venture out on my own; to dive in head first with no safety net -  but I've got to say, having people to fall back on has been amazing. We had a venting session last night about how much we miss things like endless stacks of pancakes at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;IHOP&lt;/span&gt;. We went and bought &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Oreos&lt;/span&gt; (I hardly ever eat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Oreos&lt;/span&gt; in the states). We stumbled our way through a Hot Pot dinner (very amazing, by the way) together. All of these things have been so much more enjoyable with people who you can relate to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Mooncake&lt;/span&gt; Festival (mid-autumn festival) - if you are away from home and family, you are supposed to look up at the moon and remember your family. They also make special &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;biscuity&lt;/span&gt; sweet bread called "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;mooncakes&lt;/span&gt;" which you of course eat during the festival, in remembrance. So to everyone back home, happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mooncake&lt;/span&gt; festival from Qufu!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2397733873163901148?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2397733873163901148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2397733873163901148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2397733873163901148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2397733873163901148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/thank-goodness-for-group.html' title='Thank goodness for the group'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-1618290375806438258</id><published>2008-09-08T03:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T03:56:26.299-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Waiguo ren &amp; Laoshi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SMTaPBMwpCI/AAAAAAAAAJk/6QPzWIwNeyU/s1600-h/100_4273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SMTaPBMwpCI/AAAAAAAAAJk/6QPzWIwNeyU/s320/100_4273.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243555817720947746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I am late in joining the blogging game, so I will try not to repeat what has already been written. Everyone has been writing such fantastic entries! I find it difficult to summarize the past ten days here in Qufu, so I will try to focus on specifics.&lt;div&gt;First, I must say that my first week as an English teacher was thrilling. I had expected to be terribly nervous when walking into my first classroom of 35 students (Junior Writing), but they were all so eager and excited. It made my job a whole lot easier. I felt immediately at ease and began the class by telling my students a bit about myself, my home, and my family. I showed them several photos, including one of my father holding a giant fish he caught early on in the summer. The entire class gasped in unison. They loved it. They also enjoyed hearing about all of my pets, especially my imitation of the way my talking parrot says "Hello."  I tried to use humor whenever I could to ease the nervous tension and was surprised to find that the students understood and appreciated my humor. Today, for example, my class was extra quiet. It is Monday, and I imagine they are exhausted from the weekend. Apparently the students here spend their weekends studying and doing work, instead of relaxing and going out. I felt myself becoming a bit nervous and tense, not getting the interactive feedback I got from them last week. Outside the building, in the front of the college, the Freshmen were gathered at a welcome lecture. Someone was speaking loudly, and the noise was a bit distracting. The large crowd burst into applause at the end of one of the speeches and I turned toward the window, facing the applause, bowed, and said "Well, thank you." My entire class burst into laughter and the tension was eased. Whew.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things around here are a bit disorganized and last-minute, administratively speaking, but we all just go with the flow. For instance, I was told at the end of last week that I would begin teaching my elective course (I have chosen to teach a course called "Who Wore What When: A Survey of Twentieth Century American Fashion") this week. I made sure to get my syllabus to Peter before the weekend and expected to have at least a few days' notice before having to teach the elective. Yesterday afternoon, one of my students approached me while I was waiting for the bus and told me I would be teaching my elective course on Monday at 10:10 (which is when I am supposed to teach a section of Junior Writing). I thought perhaps she was mistaken and told her I was waiting to hear from Peter. Sure enough, around 7:00pm, Peter came to us with our revised course schedules, and of course, I realized that I had to come up with a last-minute lesson plan for my elective course, to be taught the following afternoon. Luckily, the class was very relaxed today, since the students are basically "shopping" for their elective course. I only talked for about 15-20 mins. I showed them some photos of American fashion from various decades and explained what we would be learning over the course of the semester. I did this while standing on a raised platform in front of about 130 students (all 4 Junior classes). They all seemed to enjoy my albeit brief imitation of a supermodel doing the catwalk. I think my theatre and performance experience will come in very handy this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a completely different note, I would like to point out some glaring cultural differences that I have noticed. Perhaps my favorite is the holding of hands. Friends of all ages hold hands here, unabashedly and proudly. Most often I see girl friends holding hands with each other--on the way to class, shopping, walking the street. However, while riding the bus one day, I noticed two grandfatherly men linked arm in arm. In a homophobic culture, it is so interesting to see members of the same gender shamelessly being so publicly intimate with one another. There was something so tender and genuine about those two old men walking together, arm in arm. Now, at quite the opposite end of the spectrum, is a much less endearing cultural difference: the spitting. One must be ready, at any time and in any place, to dodge the mucus being spat--on the street where you are walking, or perhaps my favorite, on the floor of the restaurant, right next to the table where you were sitting and enjoying your plate of green beans with sliced pork and garlic. It's a fantastic way to boost one's appetite. I do not, however, mind the "Hulllooo"s that are constantly shouted at us. I actually like it when it comes from the cute little Chinese children. I usually say Hi back to them. I kind of feel like a celebrity. We have found that sunglasses help. It makes us feel less visible, or at least, less obligated to respond to the shouts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a final note, I would like to point out that they do not eat &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; the dogs in China. (See photo for proof)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-1618290375806438258?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/1618290375806438258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=1618290375806438258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1618290375806438258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/1618290375806438258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-am-waiguo-ren-laoshi.html' title='I am Waiguo ren &amp; Laoshi'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16605840403693759321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SL8_WVzfEII/AAAAAAAAABE/hg3HiLicGzA/S220/100_3685.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j-6b76JoqPM/SMTaPBMwpCI/AAAAAAAAAJk/6QPzWIwNeyU/s72-c/100_4273.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-6309315871172508297</id><published>2008-09-06T22:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T23:41:12.405-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A funny thing happened on the way to the university</title><content type='html'>After a both exciting and stressful first week of teaching, the weekend has finally come.  I am teaching seven classes right now, five classes of sophomores and two classes of juniors.  The sophomore classes are great.  Their English is fantastic and they are enthusiastic and eager to learn. Here is a quick example of just how good their English is.  I wrote the word "roommate" on the board but accidentally spelled it "roomate."  Within seconds, about fifteen hands shot up to tell me that I had spelled the word wrong. Embarrassed and unsure of the correct spelling, I said "really? Are you sure?"  Immidiately fifteen dictionaries came flying out.  I was wrong.  I had spelled an English word wrong and my Chinese students corrected it for me.  On the one hand, I was happy to learn of their finely-tuned spelling abilities, on the other hand, I felt like an idiot.  The experience was certainly humbling, but I can't beat myself up over every little spelling mistake I make (after all, I was a social work major not an English major right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, however, I had my first class of juniors.  Unlike the sophomores, the juniors are not English majors, therefore their English is minimal and their motivation to be there is pretty low as well.  Most of these juniors are studying international trade and will be studying abroad next year in Korea for two years.  Peter, our director and their writing teacher, explained to them that English would be a very useful common language in Korea so it would be an important skill for them to aquire.  So hopefully I will be able to do some fun classes with them and raise their engery level.  Something interesting though: class with my juniors seemed to be awkward and unsucessful.  When I would ask them questions, they would stare back at me like I was an alien.  They laughed a lot, and it felt like they were laughing at me.  By the end of class, I was discouraged, to say the least.  For that reason I was shocked when two of the girls approached me and asked me if I would like to go to dinner with them tonight.  Surprised but enthralled, I gladly accepted their invitation.  They said they would pick me up at my apartment at 5:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:30 rolled around, and after gaining the girls' permission to do so, I invited Nick, Olivia and Karrin to come along since I was a little nervous about the communication barrier.  We got picked up and the girls said that we had to wait a few more minutes for everyone else.  "Who else is coming?" I asked.  They told me that other students from the class would be joining us.  I was shocked when it turned out that nine students, three girls and six boys, had gotten together to all take me out for dinner.  Realizing that this invitation meant that they were going to be &lt;em&gt;treating&lt;/em&gt; me to dinner, we decided it would be best if two foreign teachers stay behind and one come for moral support (it was a bit intimidating...)  Olivia kindly obliged and they took us to a delicious restaraunt where the food didn't seem to stop coming.  The meal was somewhat uncomfortable since we don't speak any Chinese and they speak very little English, but they put so much effort into trying to speak with us, which was very nice of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meal we decided to walk home in a group from the restaraunt.  On the way, the strangest thing happened.  These nine students, who had been so quiet and reserved in both the classroom and at the dinner table, suddenly opened up.  They were all of a sudden unafraid to use their English and I was amazed to see just how good their English actually was.  Maybe it was becuse they were no longer in such a formal setting or maybe it was because they had just learned that we were actually their age, not older than them, but something changed. The walk home took about forty minutes, and each one of them had a million questions for us about America, everything from life at our college to our favorite music groups.  I was so pleased to see them open up like this and I was also able to finally learn more about who they are and where they come from.  The night out was truly a sucess.  My students and I got to learn more about one another and the exchange eased my tensions about how difficult the class might be to teach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-6309315871172508297?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6309315871172508297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=6309315871172508297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6309315871172508297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6309315871172508297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/funny-thing-happened-on-way-to.html' title='A funny thing happened on the way to the university'/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-3102501655156825087</id><published>2008-09-05T16:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T16:50:25.001-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ni Hao, Jiaoshi !</title><content type='html'>I am so happy and proud to read your posts and see how well you are adapting to China and your new lives as teachers.  What I am most impressed with is your flexibility in the face of such new and ever-changing circumstances.  At some level, even with our semester-long orientation seminar at Skidmore, there is really no way to "prepare" for China!  Now that you're there, you understand what I mean. Your adventurous spirit, friendly and generous approach to your work, and keen observations about the excitement that your students feel about having you as their teachers make all of the confusions of everyday life worthwhile.  I read your posts and immediate feel "homesick" for the China I so warmly remember.  Someone has even posted a photo of my old apartment at Qufu! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog has now been introduced to the entire Skidmore community in this week's issue of Scope.  I received lots of positive feedback, so keep those pictures and stories coming.  As you get further into your teaching, I know you'll have some wonderful experiences to relate.  Hey, Lucy, I hear you've been asked to give the welcome address to the entire freshman class at Qufu, standing in front of the statue of Confucius!  Don't be nervous - whatever you say will be welcomed with cheers and applause, and it's a great honor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later.  Collectively you're making a huge difference in the lives of  thousands of Chinese students, and Skidmore and I couldn't be prouder!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-3102501655156825087?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3102501655156825087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=3102501655156825087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3102501655156825087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3102501655156825087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/ni-hao-jiaoshi.html' title='Ni Hao, Jiaoshi !'/><author><name>Sandy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15310016607130950163</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2060454155386271067</id><published>2008-09-05T10:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T08:25:41.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Settling In</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I've been in China for over a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;week now and I’ve finally begun teaching. Life here is slowly starting to take shape. I’m gaining new routines each day, becoming more familiar with the neighborhood and city as a whole. I know that the shop across from my apartment sells delicious soft pretzel-like bread with a sweet glaze and sesame seed that makes a great breakfast—even better  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;if you put some cinnamon on it. I know that “ji” mean chicken and that if I go to a restaurant and order a dish with the word “ji” in it a may get an entire chicken hacked to pieces. And though I’m not quite used to the chicken head on my plate, I’m used to the fact that if I order a dish it may show up.&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SMFJibLuJNI/AAAAAAAAACY/H48YFrFnELU/s320/SNC10665.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242552296997266642" /&gt; Life is becoming comfortable here. I no longer feel like I’m halfway around the world; I’m simply living away from home as usual. I’m in love with the midday naps people take and evening communities of families and students that mingle outside in the mild nights here. The children are adorable and if it didn’t happen so frequently their “haaalos” might almost be endearing. I don’t think I will ever get used to seeing them do their ‘business” (number one only—hopefully) on the street, but again, like the chicken, I’m getting used to the fact this is what they do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I’ve only taught three classes so far—I will have five a week in total—and have found the students incredibly welcoming. They are so eager to please and motivated to learn that it makes teaching them easy and enjoyable. I am teach all writing courses and though my students have goals of improving their skills most have asked me if I think writing courses can be interesting and fun. In learning English they are especially eager to learn more about Western Culture and to improve their speaking. So I will have to find ways of keeping them entertained and enthusiastic about my course—any ideas are welcome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SMFJhhcLmzI/AAAAAAAAACQ/096FAOHqhmg/s320/SNC10662.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242552281497049906" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Life in Qufu, though different in many ways from America, is comfortable. Life is not as rugged as you may think. There are fast food restaurants, though street food is just as fast and often tastier. I can find rice cookers, electric kettles, alarm clocks, sheets, pillows, even Tupperware in many stores including a large and very clean department store downtown. Shops sell trendy clothes in buildings that, though old and rich in history on the exterior, blast pop music from modernly designed interiors. My apartment has strong AC to combat the day’s humidity and heat and I can find all the cold drinks I want. It is an incredibly interesting time to be in Qufu. This city that has been around for thousands of years, whose architecture is six hundred years old is developing. But though its developing, it is doing so in its own way of honoring and preserving its history—hopefully this practice will continue. People text on cell phones while they wait for a chicken to be butchered in the market. There is a wonderful balance between the old and the new and in how people utilize both in their daily lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Times New Roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I am slowly settling in. Whatever anxieties I had about the year I will spend here are fading away. Though interaction is often difficult with the very little Chinese I have, optimism about the language I will acquire, about the relationships that will grow, has taken root and I am excited to see where I will end up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2060454155386271067?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2060454155386271067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2060454155386271067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2060454155386271067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2060454155386271067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/settling-in.html' title='Settling In'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SMFJibLuJNI/AAAAAAAAACY/H48YFrFnELU/s72-c/SNC10665.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-4548403580161965882</id><published>2008-09-03T23:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T04:39:42.412-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Haaaaaaaalo!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It's bizarre to be able to say that I have been living in Qufu, China for the last week. It is an experience unlike any other I have come across. China is completely amazing and ridiculous at the same time. Every day is an adventure, and so far, every day has been a little crazier than the day before. I also find myself in the most awkward situations constantly. It might have something to do with the fact that I don't speak any Mandarin, but I'm pretty sure it's the fact that I'm a waiguoren (foreigner). As a group, we attract the attention of everyone in a hundred-foot radius. People stare, point, laugh, and often scream out "Haaaaalo!" or "Waiguoren!" After one week, I have almost gotten used to it, but there are moments when it's absolutely overwhelming. Because Qufu is Confucius' old stomping ground, we went into the old city to walk around and explore. I guess this area is a big tourist spot, which automatically attracts vendors selling everything you can imagine. As we walked down the streets with vendors, people were screaming "Haaaalo!" at us from every direction and all eyes on the crowded streets were tuned in on us. It was quite irritating, and I don't know if I will ever go back there again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's only been one week since we landed in China, but I honestly feel like I've been here forever. We have already established daily routines; every night, the four of us at Xingtan College have dinner together (after a few attempts at cooking, we have chosen to now mostly go out) and almost every other day we meet up with Lucy and Eliza at Qufu Normal. These dinners have consistently been the highlight of my days simply because I don't eat much during the day. It's not that I don't have time; quite the opposite, I have all the time in the world. I just can't eat anymore peanut butter sandwiches (my usual breakfast here) or ramen noodles (my usual lunch). At this point, I would rather just build up an appetite for dinner.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have only taught one class thus far: Western Culture. Originally, I was supposed to teach five different sections of this course, but of course, those in charge decided it would be better to combine those classes into two sections. This means that the first class I ever taught was 94 students. I can safely say I am not prepared to teach a class of 94 Chinese students. But I don't really have much of a choice. So, on Tuesday, I walked right into that classroom and pretended I knew what I was doing. I was so nervous that I spoke unbelievably fast, which made it difficult for the students to understand me. I realized what I was doing pretty quickly and managed to slow myself down. I would say that the first ten minutes were extremely nerve-wracking, but then everything went pretty smoothly. The students are so eager to learn about western culture and have continually expressed this to me and the other teachers. I'm excited to teach them something they're excited to learn about. I have been planning out lesson plans (I'm trying not to procrastinate) and so far I have some pretty great topics, ranging from geography to film and television. I also really want to do something about the upcoming presidential election; it seems like they would definitely enjoy learning about the candidates, and maybe I could even have them vote! After meeting some of my students, I'm happy knowing that they will be thrilled with anything I teach them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's almost dinner time, or at least is for us in Qufu. At 5:30, we're going to take the 5 bus across town to Qufu Normal and have dinner with Lucy and Eliza. We're going to a restaurant they have already tried and gave good reviews about. Apparently, they serve "American" style Chinese food, or as close as it will get for us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-4548403580161965882?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4548403580161965882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=4548403580161965882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4548403580161965882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4548403580161965882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/haaaaaaaalo.html' title='&quot;Haaaaaaaalo!&quot;'/><author><name>ojanczyk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16383815205304804264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-6541137108164585748</id><published>2008-09-03T22:46:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:20:47.098-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Second day of classes</title><content type='html'>Today was my second day teaching here at Xintan College in Qufu, and it's definitely been eye opening. I meet with each class once a week for two hours (well, two fifty minute periods with a 10 minute break in between), and the two sections that I've taught so far have gone really well. After introducing myself I had the students interview each other and then introduce their friends, partly to get to know them a bit better, but mostly to gauge their level of English comprehension. Currently all my students are 3rd years, and I've been very impressed with their level of understanding. I can speak almost completely normally - I think the only thing I've been doing different is speaking a bit more formally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so following all the introductions I explained briefly what I expected of them as a class, what they should expect from me as a teacher, and all that other happy fun stuff which never was of much interest to me either. The last half of class was devoted to a discussion of the movie "Sneakers," which I showed as my first movie on Monday. I of course chose "Sneakers" before I realized -- of my 140 or so students in four sections of Movie Class -- only 15 were male... Which is not to say the girls didn't like it, but let's be honest - it's kind of a guy movie (although I highly recommend it to anyone who has not seen it). I had asked them to write down five things which they either had questions about or didn't understand from the movie, and this was the basis of our discussion. You never really understand just how many nuances and small (yet very, very important) plot twists a movie has until you realize someone didn't understand what it meant when Robert Redford asked about somebody's shoes and the kid replied "expensive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One very interesting comment/question which arose today in the discussion involved the role of a Russian character in the movie. A young girl asked me, "It seems that in many American movies, Russia, China, and North Korea are portrayed as dangerous. In light of this, do Americans actually feel that these countries are dangerous?" I saved this one for last... mostly because I was attempting to think of some tactful way to ease past this direct conversation so early in the semester (Remember this was the first class with this group)... My ultimate comment was something along the lines of, "Well Russia wasn't actually bad in the movie, because Marty (Robert Redford) went to Gregor (the Russian) for help, and if Americans thought China was dangerous they wouldn't let me come and teach here now would they? ...We'll save North Korea for another day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all I think its been going very well, however I think teaching the same lesson plan four times a week is going to get a bit old... Such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely unrelated note, I love my students' names. Aside from the standard names of Lisa, Joyce, Cleo, Flora, Briony, and Melody, are a few more creative names... I'm particularly fond of Freshman (prefers to go by F.M.), Rain, Ashby, and Forca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rachel, another Skidmore teacher, definitely wins the name game with "Zero," "Nothing," and "AppleTree."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a great week all in all. We've found several restaurants which I know will become regular haunts (three to four people tend to eat for between 35 and 40 yuan... divide by seven equals awesome). I'm very quickly embracing the Chinese tradition of the afternoon nap (between 1 and 2:30) and I'm getting paid to watch and talk about movies. Awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SL9OJmoCazI/AAAAAAAAABs/WIC82rVscm0/s1600-h/P1010028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SL9OJmoCazI/AAAAAAAAABs/WIC82rVscm0/s320/P1010028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241994418176813874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of a shirt we all saw one of the first few days in Qufu... Thought you all might enjoy the catchy slogan of, "WEEBREEZE intheparty SO YOUGET Champagne"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-6541137108164585748?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/6541137108164585748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=6541137108164585748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6541137108164585748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/6541137108164585748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/second-day-of-classes.html' title='Second day of classes'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SL9OJmoCazI/AAAAAAAAABs/WIC82rVscm0/s72-c/P1010028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2227992807290640346</id><published>2008-09-03T22:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T23:32:20.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nihao from Southern China!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SL9ILr-QeHI/AAAAAAAAABI/TXCRRGQmO1w/s1600-h/IMG_0082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SL9ILr-QeHI/AAAAAAAAABI/TXCRRGQmO1w/s320/IMG_0082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241987856902158450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my first post on our beautiful new blog. It has taken quite a while to get everything set up here in Zhuhai, but now that Travis and I are settled I am excited to share a little bit with you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our campus is absolutely beautiful. It is large and full of lakes, trees, and mountains. We are certainly lucky to be in such a lush spot. The campus is just a short walk to the bay of the Pearl Sea, which is another lovely sight. That being said, it is so hot--sweltering, even--that it is hard to enjoy the outdoors. Walking to class is even tiring and often leaves me sweaty. It also rains suddenly and viciously here. All my students warned me that I must always carry and umbrella because the sun is strong and the rain is unpredictable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though there are some negative aspects to our location, I am quite excited to be at this University and on this campus. Everyone here has been so warm and welcoming, and I really love the program that we are working for (STI-School of Translation and Interpretation). The school is only three years old, and the dean is hoping to provide a liberal education to his students. We have been&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SL9PNBM0VdI/AAAAAAAAABY/UdPYEtvBxhQ/s1600-h/IMG_0092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SL9PNBM0VdI/AAAAAAAAABY/UdPYEtvBxhQ/s320/IMG_0092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241995576361637330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; encouraged to teach our students to think critically and as individuals. It is very fun to be part of such a new and dynamic team of teachers and professors. It is also fun to have such flexibility. I am teaching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sophomore Writing and Speaking&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Freshman Speaking&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;American Society and Culture&lt;/span&gt;. While there are books for the classes and some guidelines, I have been given so much freedom to pick topics and classroom activities. For my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;American Society&lt;/span&gt; class (which is a lecture to 150 students!!) I had no  guidelines--I am allowed to teach whatever I want in class and grade however I want. How fun! My other classes are much smaller (24-27 students) and I have really enjoyed getting to know the students here. They are all so excited to have young, American teachers. It is really wonderful to feel so welcomed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is more to say, but I will have to save it for another time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2227992807290640346?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2227992807290640346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2227992807290640346' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2227992807290640346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2227992807290640346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/nihao-from-southern-china.html' title='Nihao from Southern China!'/><author><name>Carrie</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SRYqWuym_1I/SL9ILr-QeHI/AAAAAAAAABI/TXCRRGQmO1w/s72-c/IMG_0082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-3669095514444726766</id><published>2008-09-03T05:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:55:41.878-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything here tastes slightly off...</title><content type='html'>So far, life in China is good but difficult. Our school, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; College, located in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Qufu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, about fifteen minutes from Lucy and Eliza's university, is small but fun. There are about 4,000 students here, but the campus is still about a third of the side of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Skidmore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I would guess. Our rooms are relatively new and very very nice. We all have spacious living rooms, large bathrooms, kitchens and big bedrooms. Today I used to the laundry machine in the bathroom for the first time, which only has Chinese writing on it....I will let you know how that goes....Each room has a TV but every channel is in Chinese, so I lose focus after about forty seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Chinese hosts at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Xintan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; have been extremely friendly and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;accommodating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. They are all only slightly older than us, yet their English is nearly perfect. Their names are Peter, Connie, Cathy and Li &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Zhao&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. On our first day here, they took us out for an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;enormous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; dinner and lunch the next day. Soon after, Peter told us he was taking us out for a quick foot massage, at the many local massage parlors (some a bit sketchier than others...) It turned out to be an amazing, two hours treatment consisting of shoulder and neck rubs, hot herbal water to soak our feet in, warm pillows and much more. It was both incredibly relaxing and incredibly generous. We learned that Peter, though he seems to work round the clock, makes only slightly more than we do per month. I have been so impressed with all of their generosity. Similarly, our students have offered to take us out to lunch to show us "traditional Chinese cuisine" despite the fact that most of them have very little money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class so far has been interesting. So far I have taught three sections of sophomore oral English. I am amazed at how advanced their English is, however most are very shy and hesitant to speak in class. For the first class, I asked them to all go around and introduce themselves (name, something unique about themselves, their hobbies and goals for the class). To my surprise, they all gave about the same answers. Their hobbies included playing sports, watching TV, shopping and surfing the web. Their goals were to improve their speaking English and learn more about Western culture. What also surprised me is how many of them said that there was nothing unique or special about them. I had to really encourage them to share something unusual about their life. I don't know if this was a case of them being humble or disinterested, or possibly as Sandy warned us about, a hesitancy to stand out from the group as an individual. On the whole, I am looking forward to this class, but am more worried about my two classes of juniors who are not English majors. I have been told that because they are not in the English dept. their English is relatively poor and their motivation level is low. I am nervous about teaching this class on Thursday but Cathy said a Chinese translator can be involved in the class if needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all now sitting in my apartment watching reruns of the Olympics. I have a student coming over in an hour for some extra tutoring. She came over last night during Sleepless in Seattle and asked if I could tutor her every night from 9:20-10:00. I am going to have to work on setting boundaries I guess. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-3669095514444726766?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/3669095514444726766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=3669095514444726766' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3669095514444726766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/3669095514444726766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/everything-here-takes-slightly-off.html' title='Everything here tastes slightly off...'/><author><name>Rachel Schulman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11766278991491709852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-4393147951823764537</id><published>2008-09-01T22:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:56:18.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's almost routine</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Now that we've been here for almost a week I don't wake up in the morning forgetting where I am. The edges of the campus aren't unfamiliar anymore and I even ventured off campus by myself for the first time today. I walked to the market just outside the east (?) gate. I didn't buy anything but it felt weird not being in a group of foreigners, being the lone laowei, or foreigner, as a little kid shouted at us the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what has really helped is having a community where I am living. Joni, who I have mentioned before, has patiently helped us ease into life in Qufu. She lives upstairs and last night she cooked dinner for us in her apartment, which is definitely the most homey of any of the apartments I've been in so far. She lives on the fourth floor where Tarah and Lisa, two American women who have yet to arrive, will also live. On the third floor is Adeline, a French teacher who comes from a town just outside of Paris. We really got to know her better last night and, like Joni, she makes the community in the foreign teacher's building even more homey. Next to me on the second floor is Eliza on one side and a Russian couple with a young son on the other. The son and the mom don't speak much English, but the father does. It feels strange calling them parents because they can't be much older than Eliza and me. They are friendly but communication is a bit difficult. It is kind of nice knowing that there is a family with a little kid next door just like any other apartment building around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside of our building the campus is bustling because the students have returned. I don't start teaching until friday because most of my students, the first years, have registration and mandatory military training for the next three weeks. Everyone else has started teaching and hearing their stories has made me more excited than anything. I look forward to making friends with my students and comparing our life stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of friends, I literally instantly made one today. A senior whose English name is Mike came to Eliza's door while I was doing my laundry in her room. He was surprised to see me because he was used to a male Skidmore student living there last year. He was sad to hear he had left but came right out and asked if we could be friends. MY FIRST CHINESE FRIEND! He offered to help us buy cell phones tomorrow which will be a very nice thing to have. Everyday it gets easier being here but it still feels funny having every other pair of eyes follow us when we walk by. I've only seen one other westerner that I didn't already know. He was randomly walking across the street near the Confucius temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall the Chinese people, unless they have reason to talk to us, just go about their business after giving us a lingering stare. Unfortunately we had one bad encounter. John Lenhart, a Skidmore grad who lives in a nearby town, came to show us the ropes. His Mandarin is so good that he understood when someone said something rude. So rude in fact that he wouldn't tell us what they said. The people I have met, both western and Chinese, associated with Qufu Normal, however, couldn't be friendlier. Anywho, I am going to go join Eliza in watching more t.v. we can't understand. Tonight we are trying hot pot for the first time!&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-4393147951823764537?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/4393147951823764537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=4393147951823764537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4393147951823764537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/4393147951823764537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-almost-routine.html' title='It&apos;s almost routine'/><author><name>HEARTSLEEVE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08207307590947454677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-5589550166871791078</id><published>2008-09-01T03:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:57:06.104-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's officially set in</title><content type='html'>Now that we've been here for almost a week I don't wake up in the morning forgetting where I am.   The edges of the campus aren't unfamiliar anymore and I even ventured off campus by myself for the first time today.  I walked to the market just outside the east (?) gate.  I didn't buy anything but it felt weird not being in a group of foreigners, being the lone laowei, or foreigner, as a little kid shouted at us the other day.  I think what has really helped is having a community where I am living.  Joni, who I have mentioned before, has patiently helped us ease into life in Qufu.  She lives upstairs and last night she cooked dinner for us in her apartment, which is definitely the most homey of any of the apartments I've been in so far.  She lives on the fourth floor where Tarah and Lisa, two American women who have yet to arrive, will also live.  On the third floor is Adeline, a French teacher who comes from a town just outside of Paris.  We really got to know her better last night and like Joni she makes the community in the foreign teacher's building even more homey.  Next to me on the second floor is Eliza on one side and a Russian couple with a young son.  The son and the mom don't speak much English, but the father does.  It feels strange calling them parents because they can't be much older than Eliza and I.  They are friendly, but communication is a bit difficult.  It is kind of nice knowing that there is a family with a little kid next door, just like any other apartment building around the world.  Outside of our building the campus is bustling because the students have returned.  I don't start teaching until friday because most of my students, the first years, have registration and mandatory military training for the next three weeks.  Everyone else has started teaching and hearing there stories has made me more excited than anything.  I look forward to making friends with my students and comparing our life stories.  Speaking of friends, I literally made one today.  I say made one because a senior who's english name is Mike came to Eliza's door while I was doing my laundry in her room.  He was surprised to see me because he was used to a male Skidmore student living there last year.  He was sad to hear he had left, but came right out and asked if we could be friends.  MY FIRST CHINESE FRIEND!  He offered to help us buy cell phones tomorrow, which will be a very nice thing to have.  Everyday it gets easier being here but it still feels funny having every other pair of eyes follow us when we walk by.  I've only seen one other westerner that I didn't already know.  He was randomly walking across the street near the Confucius temple.  Overall the Chinese people, unless they have reason to talk to us, just go about their business after giving us a lingering stare.  Unfortunately we had one bad encounter.  John Lenhart, a Skidmore grad who lives in a nearby town, came to show us the ropes.  His Mandarin is so good that he understood when someone said something so rude about us that he wouldn't tell us what they said.  The people I have met, both western and Chinese, associated with Qufu Normal, however, couldn't be friendlier.  Anywho, I am going to go join Eliza in watching more t.v. we can't understand.&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-5589550166871791078?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5589550166871791078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=5589550166871791078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/5589550166871791078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/5589550166871791078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-officially-set-in.html' title='It&apos;s officially set in'/><author><name>HEARTSLEEVE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08207307590947454677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-926277819297525416</id><published>2008-08-30T20:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T20:39:02.245-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I've been missing</title><content type='html'>I've been in China for about four days now, and understandably I've begun to miss home a bit. But sorry friends and family who are reading things, its not you yet. I miss the little things from home that I never really thought about. Hot water. My apartment has it every day for five hours: 6am-8am and 8pm-11pm. I miss the luxury of waking up and hoping in for a nice hot shower. I also miss drinkable tap water and the ease of brushing my teeth. No rinsing with bottled or boiled water; a nice cold gulp after I've rinsed. I rinse my plates with boiled water before I use them to get rid of the tap water I've just cleaned them in. My bed here is fairly comfortable but my one pillow is just not cutting it and no where near my fluffy cocoon I'm used to. Good crusty bread. Most of the bread I've had here is a sweet, Challa like bread with a mildly stale texture. Cheese. I love it; they only have processed. I also miss eavesdropping. One of my favorite ways to pass some time waiting in line or on a bus back in the US, eavesdropping is impossible for me here. Often I can tell that people are talking about me, but I can't understand what they're saying.  So the next time you wake up at 10am in your fluffy bed and take a hot shower, brush your teeth and rinse tap water and think, "hey, i'll have cheese for breakfast" with a side of listening-to-someone-else's-conversation, think of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things here are good though. My apartment is large and spacious. Though it's still pretty bare, it's beginning to feel like home. Slowly the nuisances of the water situation are becoming comfortably, a part of my daily life.Classes begin on Monday and I'm more than a little nervous to begin teaching. I'm really just now beginning to feel the weight of the responsibility I have to these students. My classes and how I prepare my students will affect further education opportunities and subsequently their ability to get a job after graduation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But life is good. China is continually surprising in me with humors curiosities, like the multi-cultural pair of little boys in the underwear on my fridge and many other electrical appliances here.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SLnoDBRWNvI/AAAAAAAAABI/xv2iDI6hZPg/s1600-h/SNC10660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SLnoDBRWNvI/AAAAAAAAABI/xv2iDI6hZPg/s320/SNC10660.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240474780000728818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-926277819297525416?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/926277819297525416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=926277819297525416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/926277819297525416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/926277819297525416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/08/things-ive-been-missing.html' title='Things I&apos;ve been missing'/><author><name>erosler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11093630060718276559</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SN8hzqPJe1I/AAAAAAAAADE/FxSJAkY1GW4/S220/n12203699_31496610_698.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FSftSSrsTzA/SLnoDBRWNvI/AAAAAAAAABI/xv2iDI6hZPg/s72-c/SNC10660.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-2549509290427613139</id><published>2008-08-29T02:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T18:39:21.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How do I get the meat stick open...?</title><content type='html'>So I made it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently sitting in my Appartment in Qufu, Shandong China. The trip itself was, all in all, uneventful. The only real noteworthy thing about the flight over was that for the first twenty minutes of the flight out of San Francisco, the "call flight attendant" ding noise wouldn't stop. We were discussing the possibility of it continuing for all 11 hours and 45 minutes of the flight, but luckily that bloody scenario did not have to play out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, we completely missed the night of the 26th. When we passed over the International Date Line the sun was shining, and continued to do so all the way to China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Beijing Capitol Airport, recently COMPLETELY BUILT ANEW for the Olympics, is absolutely massive. I mean just massive. They also designed it so that international travelers were not only in a different terminal than domestic flights, but almost in a completely different airport. We had to transfer to a domestic flight to Jinan, which required us to get our luggage, go through Customs (which consisted of us putting our carry ons through a security scanner... the U.S. seemingly has far stricter customs - nobody even asked us questions about where we were going, how long, etc.), and travel to "Terminal 2." Terminal 2 is where the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;old&lt;/span&gt; airport was, I think. It's a 10 minute bus ride away from where they bring in the International flights, and is much more what you would expect to find in a Chinese airport (People, mostly). The terminals were still quite nice and easy to navigate, and we got on our local flight without any major problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our local flight was only about 45 minutes, but in that time we were given these awesome little "snack packs" which had several types of rolls in them, one filled with this strange brown paste, which while delicious, myself and Andy agreed we did &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; wish to know its origins. Also in the snack pack was a butter roll (delicious pastry type thing), a packet of Sechuan Pickles (an acquired taste), and what can only be described as a pudding cup container filled with 100 mL of water. They gave us a bottle of water, and we didn't know what to do with the pudding cup, so we just left it alone. Better to be safe than accidentally drink the water you are supposed to wash with, or wash with the water you are supposed to drink with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We landed in Jinan at about 6:45, and the first thing we noticed was the sky. The dark, heavy air which hung in the city of Jinan is something I have never seen before. It was difficult to tell whether it was just so unbelievably humid (it is) that the sky looked like you could cut it with a knife, or if it was just the obvious air quality issues, but I'm guessing it's somewhere in the middle. You can feel the dirt in the air. Less so in Qufu, however it is still noticeable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were met At the Airport by several people. Connie, for the Xintan College group (my group), A guy whose name I can't remember (he was very nice) for the Qufu Normal group, and a whole separate cadre for the Dongying group. The drive down was about two hours long, and having eaten only airplane food, we all agreed that we would like something to eat. We stopped at a Chinese truck stop about half way,which was an experience. There are massive numbers of trucks on the Chinese highways, and as best as one can muster, very few restrictions as to load size and what happens to be carried. For example, we saw a truck carrying another truck of identical make and model, in the back (it was a little European sized personal truck, so it was rather hilarious). There are also random broken down trucks along the road which, while swerving in and out of traffic, you sometimes almost hit. So it goes. Did I mention that Driving in China would be an experience? I can't even begin to describe Chinese driving habits. They aren't horrific - but lets just call it extreme white knuckle driving. Anyway, back to the truck stop. Our hosts (Connie and the nice man I can't remember) Purchased us a loaf of sweet bread (very similar to Challah and very good), a bottle of water, and what can only be described as, a meat stick. It looks like bologna, and I would imagine would taste like it, however I haven't tried it yet. We couldn't get the things open. Nobody of course had a knife, and try and try as we might, penetrating the plastic force field encompassing the meat stick proved impossible. So we just poked each other with them discreetly (as to not offend our hosts). Hey, after traveling for almost 24 hours poking someone with a meat stick is more comical than you might imagine. When we finally arrived in Qufu (very cool looking city by night), after dropping off Eliza and Lucy at Qufu Normal University (massive campus), we headed to our Apartments at Xintan. Hard wood floors, queen sized beds, nice kitchen - the living situation shouldn't be a problem. I even have an office with a spare bed! Below is a picture of my bed, and my living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SLedPxLwfjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ux1F4DFtbUU/s1600-h/P1010015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SLedPxLwfjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ux1F4DFtbUU/s320/P1010015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239829585695112754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SLedQG69ybI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8_zc5Canz7k/s1600-h/P1010019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SLedQG69ybI/AAAAAAAAAA8/8_zc5Canz7k/s320/P1010019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239829591530260914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dropping our stuff off we were taken out to eat at, you guessed it, KFC. Gotta love KFC. Actually, KFC was closed, so we ate at the Chinese equivalent, CBC - China's Best Chicken. Who were we to contest? They were very proud of the KFC, and CBC was the next closest. We'll visit all the street vendors selling some sort of amazing smelling barbecue later. Connie is taking us to eat real Chinese food this afternoon, so that should be fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well thats all for now, time to shower, shop, eat, clean, unpack, and attempt to figure out what on earth I'm going to do come Monday when classes start (Oh hell, I actually have to teach... and here I thought I was on vacation).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-2549509290427613139?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/2549509290427613139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=2549509290427613139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2549509290427613139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/2549509290427613139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-do-i-get-meat-stick-open.html' title='How do I get the meat stick open...?'/><author><name>Nick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02277055723331166101</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SIx4vIWdF1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/qpWiJ5yGM0Y/S220/P1000244.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_W9bl53egs/SLedPxLwfjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ux1F4DFtbUU/s72-c/P1010015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8105798452751016313.post-5990351492356210193</id><published>2008-08-29T02:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:57:34.247-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is that a beak?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLef0ULHxDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/FViY7t3oeZ8/s1600-h/DSC_0036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLef0ULHxDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/FViY7t3oeZ8/s320/DSC_0036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239832412586230834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLefulta5PI/AAAAAAAAAAY/_zpKrFXy8gs/s1600-h/DSC_0033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLefulta5PI/AAAAAAAAAAY/_zpKrFXy8gs/s320/DSC_0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239832314214278386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLefnSVajqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yUVEOzg8fV8/s1600-h/DSC_0028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLefnSVajqI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/yUVEOzg8fV8/s320/DSC_0028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239832188754235042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, an outlet to tell all of the things that have happened!  Yesterday was our first full day in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Qufu&lt;/span&gt; and Joni &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Strohm&lt;/span&gt;, one of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ELIC&lt;/span&gt; teachers here, has been a beacon of hope in a very confusing place.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Qufu&lt;/span&gt; is beautiful and I am thrilled to be here, but the language barrier can make things seem a bit overwhelming and isolating.  Yesterday we ventured to the grocery store which involved a lot of impromptu sign language: pantomiming washing my hair for shampoo, pretending to brush my teeth for toothpaste, etc.  The salesgirls were very helpful and actually followed Eliza and I around.  I wasn't sure whether it was out of curiosity or suspicion, either way it was like having an audience while doing our mundane everyday shopping.  For lunch Joni took us to a restaurant right behind our housing and it was DELICIOUS!!!!  We had some pork, but I must say the vegetable dishes were the highlight of the meal.  Then we got a tour of the tree-lined campus and the local market where they sell everything from fresh baked bread to pet hamsters.  (The PET part was emphasized to me by Joni after I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the hamster stand next to the roasted chicken stand.)   Though the day was quite exciting, I must say dinner was the highlight.  Eliza and I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Qufu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Normal's&lt;/span&gt; other campus and met up with Olivia, Rachel, Nick, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Karrin&lt;/span&gt; and planned on feasting on the left overs they had from lunch.  We decided against eating the leftover soup that the waiters just poured in a plastic bag.  All was going smoothly until Rachel noticed that a chunk of the chicken dish had eyes and a beak.  After a day of getting used to a new foreign city we decided to save the adventurous eating for another meal. &lt;div&gt;Today was more about setting up our apartments.  After an early morning of tea and some highly entertaining, but altogether unintelligible children's t.v. shows, Eliza and I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;cleaned our&lt;/span&gt; apartments then Joni took us to one of the large department stores in town.  Because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt; is one of the main sites at the department store we met Nick, Rachel, and Olivia there.  I thought I ordered a chicken sandwich, but it turned out to be fish.  I have to say it was much fresher and more authentic than it would have been in the U.S.; I could see the scales which actually comforted me more than anything.  A real fish sandwich is better than a processed one no matter what country you are in.  After lunch there was more pantomiming in the department store.  I successfully bought the cheapest rice cooker I could find and a top sheet for my bed.  I have yet to find a lamp or a throw rug, though.  Now I am off again to the grocery store where I will buy &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mi, &lt;/span&gt;or uncooked rice and later we are all going to Karaoke.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...If any of you are thinking "isn't she supposed to be teaching, not eating and shopping?", well the school year starts Monday.  I am teaching Freshmen Oral English mostly and as for now that is all I know.  The school doesn't have a schedule for me or textbooks.... guess that's life here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8105798452751016313-5990351492356210193?l=skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/feeds/5990351492356210193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8105798452751016313&amp;postID=5990351492356210193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/5990351492356210193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8105798452751016313/posts/default/5990351492356210193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skidmorechinadiary.blogspot.com/2008/08/finally-outlet-to-tell-all-of-things.html' title='Is that a beak?'/><author><name>HEARTSLEEVE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08207307590947454677</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3Vn4HPfORjA/SLef0ULHxDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/FViY7t3oeZ8/s72-c/DSC_0036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
