Sunday, April 29, 2012

Ubiquitous

Ubiquitous is one of my favorite words.  Also included in no particular order are the words ironic, toboggan, polliwog, ephemeral, preposterous, quotidian, nebulous, and charlatan.  Ironically, moments when you can use "ubiquitous" correctly are few and far between.  In China, however, ubiquity is a reoccurring feature of my quotidian life.  At first, the unanimity of my students' beliefs and actions seemed preposterous.  I regularly chalked it up to a mistranslation.  I would think to myself, I'm sure she doesn't mean to say, "ALL northern people in China take cold showers."  I would assume the abhorrent generalization was purely meant to simplify her phrase lexically, but as I met people from the north of China defending and exemplifying such statements, I slowly came to accept that maybe these wide-sweeping generalizations are actually somewhat true.  Moreover, I began to hear people making the same kind of claims in Chinese.  It's no wonder then, that my students fail to comprehend the intellectual and personal diversity of countries, like America, which don't subsume the individual into a nebulous collective.  Although statements that begin, "All Chinese people…" sometimes prove to be accurate, statements beginning, "All American people…" are almost always flat-out wrong.  When I tell them that not all American people own a gun, my students look at me as if I was a charlatan sent here to sell them toboggans in summer.

As an extremely individualistic person, it grates me to encounter so many ubiquitous opinions.  To make myself feel better this semester, I am secretly using my students' similarities against them.  In their communal experience, the collective of their teachers all taught them the exact same set of mistakes, which have now been carved deeply into the Broca's area of their brains by years of rote Chinglish memorization.  I now start each class with a mistake of the week in order to snipe out each mistake one by one.  I wish I could have gotten rid of these pests while they were still just polliwogs, but it's just as effective to kill the fully formed frogs, as long as I do it before they plant their eggs in the next generation.  It was rough returning to the basics of asking, "What does ephemeral mean?" instead of always just spitting out the ever so popular, "What means ephemeral?" but it had to be done.  I hope their Chinglish proves to be ephemeral.

Friday, April 13, 2012

One GIANT Project

If you ever come visit Southwest China, you'll probably go into sensory overload for a few days because of the tsunami of noise flooding into every public space, the neon lights that light up skyscrapers like Christmas trees, and the chili pepper that is dumped onto everything you eat.  As you adjust to such levels of hyper-stimulation, everything becomes less overwhelming and you find the time to establish certain bubbles in which time moves more slowly, people don't talk as loudly, and the food is spiced more conservatively.  Luckily enough, one of my personal bubbles in China has been the basketball court.  I say, "Luckily enough," because you can't go a quarter mile in the province of Guizhou without walking past a public basketball court with a game of 4-on-4 in progress.  As a friend here once said quite accurately, "Guizhou is basically one giant project.  And just like in all other projects, basketball is the most popular sport.  You just need a ball, a hoop, and some people who want to play."  At least where I play, you don't even need to have athletic shoes, shorts, or even experience with basketball.  In fact, the most common basketball player is probably a 30 year old man who takes smoking breaks between games played in a pair of loosely-tied dress shoes, some blue jeans, and a sweater with the sleeves rolled up.  I'm the weird one for wearing basketball shoes, shorts, and a t-shirt… as if I didn't stand out already. 

The other day, another Peace Corps Volunteer in my city named Sandor invited me to come visit a nearby town with some of his students.  As many 'planned' excursions go in China, there was no plan at all, and after about an hour and a half of switching buses, walking down dirt roads, and climbing up some mountains, we turned the corner to a wide-open valley with nothing more than some rice paddies, a tiny village of 50+ wooden homes, a circle pavilion for local festivals, and, you guessed it, a basketball court. However, this was no ordinary basketball court.  This particular court was bordered on one side by a creek, on the next side by a Miao festival featuring dance and song, on the third side by a steeply terraced rice paddy, and on the last side by a bull roaming for food in the mud next to the creek.  You may have seen a similar setting before while playing Mortal Kombat, except instead of two ninja's duking it out in 1-on-1 combat, this arena was hosting an open entry 5-on-5 tournament.  So Sandor and I rounded up 3 willing locals to join our international squad registered under the teamname "美中友好"(Americhina Friendship).  While waiting for our game to start, we decided to check out the song and dance party taking place only a hop and skip away (jump and you're in the creek).  Naturally, being that we were probably the only white people to ever stumble upon this village (which no Chinese person I talked to even knew the name of) we were invited/forced to drink 3 lucky bowls of rice wine to celebrate the occasion.  After getting a solid buzz going and taking the obligatory peacesign photos, we were called over to begin our game.  Long story medium, I dropped 14 of my team's 31 points with Sandor scoring 9 of the other 17.  Unfortunately, the team we played against had more than only two athletes, and they ended up winning 42-31.

By the time we finished playing, the sun had set, the crowds had dispersed, and the bull had wandered away from his post at the Eastern sideline.  In some misguided ploy to give me free dinner and drink, the locals assured me that the bus I took to the village was some phenomanomaly (phenomenal anomaly), and the only way to get back home involved eating dinner at their house and then flagging down random motorists heading to Kaili.  Much to my surprise, the no-plan-plan worked out yet again, and I made it to home with enough time to get a good night's sleep before my 8 a.m. class the next day.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

You might still be in China if...

…a crotch in your pants is a privilege, not a right.  You earn it once you’re potty-trained.
…every “No Smoking” sign is coupled with a  “No Spitting” sign.
…couples dress alike.
…’perched’ is a common neutral position.
…your olive oil freezes in your poorly heated apartment.
…repairmen leave bigger messes than they fix.
…Jackie Chan is the frontman for every toiletry in your house.
…the majority of your students’ glasses are just thick frames with no lenses in them.
…you need to use both hands to count the number of electric fires in your house.
…you spend more money on dessert than on breakfast, lunch, and dinner combined.
…there is literally no inappropriate time to pick up your phone.*
…despite freezing temperatures, nobody ever wears hats…except babies.
…despite blinding brightness, nobody ever wears sunglasses…except foreign teachers. 
…50 students hand in their homework, and no two pieces of paper have the same dimensions.

*So far the best examples of this are a friend picking up his phone MID-point in a tennis match, a student picking up his phone while singing a song during an audition for K-VOX, and a man stopping to read a text in the middle of giving a speech.