Entry for May, 2007
It was my wife’s first day of class at her new teaching job at the small college in northern China where we had been employed. She was a little nervous and not sure what to expect, since she’d never taught anyone in a classroom before, let alone teach English to Chinese students. The only preparation she’d gotten was by patiently suffering through my excited descriptions of my own classroom experiences. When she entered the room, the students applauded and she walked self-consciously to the simple podium placed at the head of the class. All eyes were on her. On the blackboard behind her a few words had been carefully written in decorative English letters, “Warmly Welcome American Teacher!”
She began with the simple speech she’d been practicing, introducing herself and our hometown in America and why she’d chosen to come to China. She was careful to speak slowly and clearly, writing some of the key words she was using on the blackboard. As she talked, she noticed that most of the students were watching her with great curiosity. She knew that for a lot of them, she was the first non-Chinese person they had ever met. They seemed to think everything she did was fascinating. Gradually, she began to relax. She made a simple joke about learning to use chopsticks, and the class broke into peals of laughter.
Feeling more confident, she started her first lesson activity. “Let’s begin with a speaking exercise,” she told the students. “I want to hear your English abilities.” The students seemed more nervous than she was. What will this foreign teacher make us do?
“I will introduce myself to the first student in the front row, and then each of you will stand, introduce yourself to the person next to you and tell that person something you like to do in your spare time. English only, please; no Chinese,” she smiled. “This is an English class, remember?” (A few nervous chuckles from the students.)
By the end of her first class, she’d answered a dozen questions or so about life in America and taught the students how to use the more idiomatic American greetings, “How’s it going?” and “Not bad, thanks” as alternatives to their textbook phrases, “How do you do?” and “Very well, thank you.” She also helped them learn to pronounce the word “pleasure” correctly – or at least a little more correctly. And she was looking forward to her next class with a smile on her face.
Whenever I suggest teaching English in China to someone I’ve met, the most common reaction is, “I wouldn’t know how to begin to teach a lesson, and I don’t speak Chinese. Why would they hire me?” Today, with China’s recent entry into WTO, its successful bid for the 2008 Olympics, and its booming international economy, English is, hands down, the most popular skill to learn in China. Parents scramble to get their children into special after-school private English courses, entrepreneurs take night courses to improve their English skills for international business, children begin learning English as a standard course in many elementary schools, college students are required to prove their skills in a foreign language - and the overwhelming majority of young people are studying English, many hoping to be accepted in graduate programs in universities in other countries. In fact, all major universities, even the lowest level colleges, some middle schools and private elementary and preschools are hiring foreign teachers to enhance their students’ studies. If these students are truly going to learn to use English well, they simply must at least have some practice talking with a native speaker of the language.
Although each school and every classroom experience in China is a bit different, the scenario above is a familiar example of what you could expect on a typical teaching job. Literally hundreds of positions similar to this are easily available in China to anyone from the English-speaking world with a university degree of any kind, or in some cases merely a little college background, if you’re a bit adventurous and a little creative, but most importantly, if you’re simply a native speaker of English. No Chinese language skills required. This is a priceless opportunity to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience in one of the most fascinating countries in the world, and you’ll be paid for it! You will learn something about the real China that can’t be taught through textbooks or gained from tourist trips or TV specials. You’ll never be the same afterwards; I guarantee it.
Entry for June, 2007
LIVING IN EXPAT LAND:
Even in the less than cosmopolitan city of Jinan where Marcia and I were living in the early 1990s, it was not unusual for some foreign teachers there to choose to spend essentially all their waking time outside the classroom with each other, and to avoid, as much as possible, any situation where they might be the lone foreigner in the company of Chinese. When you’re suddenly plopped down in the middle of an environment so very different from your own, of course it’s natural to seek the company of those who share a similar culture and language. And especially in the really large cities in China, you can easily spot expatriated foreigners flapping around tightly together in little multi-colored flocks almost everywhere you go.
I do feel fortunate that during those years of our China experience, my wife, son and I were able to live in a place where Westerners were, for the most part, pretty uncommon. At that time in Jinan, a city of over three million people, fewer than 200 residents were from another country and probably half of those were Asian. In fact, after a year or so, we would stare right along with our Chinese friends at the odd sight of a Western looking person walking down the street. While we always knew we could never truly assimilate into a completely Chinese world - we would always be the foreigners - nevertheless, our forced “immersion” helped us rapidly develop natural friendships with Chinese people and soon forget that we were even living in a foreign country. In no time, in our minds it became just another home to us, and a friend there was simply a friend, not our “special Chinese friend.”
The value of this really struck home to me after our son, who was 17 at the time and had been living for a year with us in China, recounted to us an experience he had riding his bike in the city one day. He had bumped into a foreign teacher from a large university on the other side of the city where there were probably a dozen teachers from the U.S. and Canada working and living closely together. This foreign teacher, a middle-aged woman from America, asked him if there were any other young people among the foreign teachers’ families at the school work unit where we lived, and he answered that we were the only foreign family. Her brow wrinkling up with genuine pity and concern she patted him on the head and sputtered, “Don’t you worry now; you can come visit our school any time you need company.” Seeing our son’s surprised expression, she added, “Honey, aren’t you lonely? Don’t you need some friends?” Our son tried to describe to us how puzzled he was as he replied to her that, of course, he had lots of friends right where he was, because there are LOTS of people who live there. He was truly appalled when he realized that it did not occur to this woman that he might think his Chinese friends were just as much his friends as those from anywhere else. I think our pride in his reaction was tempered by the realization that this somewhat more world-embracing view probably wouldn’t have developed in him, or in us, if we'd been living where we could have more easily sought out the comfort of “birds of a feather” after we first arrived in China.
Entry for July, 2007
CONCERNING SHYNESS, MEMORY AND TEACHING IN CHINA:
Just as modesty is a highly prized virtue in China, so the appearance of shyness seemed to me to be common among the students I was teaching English to in China, most especially the college students. Of course, this may have been because many of my students were from more traditional villages in the countryside.
Typically in a Chinese school, teachers require students to recite lengthy memorized textbook matter when called upon, and they can be criticized sharply in front of the class for any mistake. This was especially so in the foreign language classroom. I understood that this traditional method was partly the reason some of my students were so reluctant to speak up and it explained their dread of being called upon by me, in spite of my attempts to lighten up the learning process and make it more enjoyable. At least for the first few weeks, until they learned that I was not going to embarrass anyone because of a wrong answer, even when I was asking for someone's opinion few students would offer a reply in fear that it would not be exactly the opinion I preferred. Only the bravest raised a hand to offer an off-the-cuff response to any question; most were much more comfortable responding from memory in unison with the rest of the group, as was common in their other language classes.
Nevertheless, at first I thought some of the silent treatment was just the kind of natural, sweet shyness that kids from the countryside frequently exhibited. Before long, though, I was surprised to discover that some of the students that I had the most difficulty dragging even a single word out of in the classroom in front of their classmates would explode into volumes of enthusiastic English sentences in individual conversation with me whenever I would bump into them casually outside the classroom.
My experience teaching children was similar; some of them had obviously begun to be molded by their traditional classroom experience. Starting at the earliest grades, discipline is the rule, as is respect for the teacher, whose lesson plans comprise mostly extensive memorization. Individual expression and opinion is generally frowned upon, and all children are expected to learn the same materials in exactly the same way, or fall behind. Even in art classes, children are often expected to paint the same identical picture the teacher has provided them as an example, and frequently the student who can duplicate the teacher's work exactly, down to the tiniest brush stroke, is given the most praise and the highest marks.
In a private language school where I first started moonlighting, on my first day with a class of thirty plus kids ranging in age from six to twelve I was confronted with the shocking sight of neat rows of quiet children, patiently waiting with their arms precisely folded on the desks in front of them. Whenever I posed a question to this silent classroom, one of the sharper kids would raise his hand, and when recognized, would stand at attention to bark out his response like a military recruit, and immediately sit down and fold his arms again to wait for my approval or correction. I simply could not relate this amazing experience to any I'd had with children this age in or out of the classroom in America.
However, after only a few days of playing Telephone Tag, "English Language Robot Monster" and doing the Hokey Pokey in the hallway, these wonderfully sharp kids rapidly realized their odd American teacher was going to do things a little differently. And my well-oiled, highly-disciplined little student army suddenly began to devolve into a disorganized, VERY loud and chaotic circus. The dam had broken and the flood was released. There was no turning back.
The owner of the school was absolutely amazed, the parents were totally shocked, the kids, however, found out learning English could be fun and they learned to speak English so incredibly fast and naturally that in the end everyone seemed pretty satisfied with the results, even if they remained unsure of the methodology.
But before I get carried away praising some creative playground method of teaching a foreign language, I have to comment on how much I also appreciate the value of memorization and respect taught in the traditional Chinese classroom. Chinese children, while pretty wild and exuberant at play, from the earliest years in the classroom must knuckle down and learn to recite lengthy passages from classical texts and show attention and great respect to elders, including their teachers. Marcia and I would often remark on the striking contrast with the expectations most of us have of the kind of education children will get from our schools in America, where memorization is seldom required and discipline slight.
By junior high school age, Chinese children are a year or two ahead of American kids in studies that require memorizing basic facts, especially the sciences and math, and I wonder if traditional attitudes regarding education and memorization are why a lot of Chinese children from immigrant families excel at academics in Western schools.
I've learned more recently that the kind of stern academic atmosphere common in the past in China is now being replaced gradually by more liberal teaching methods, especially in modern language classes being taught by a new breed of younger teachers. As it becomes common for students to attend classes taught by Western ESL teachers who bring a modern immersion style to the classroom, too, I've heard that many foreign teachers are now finding they have their hands full with a lively classroom of chatterers from the start. I'm sure this still depends some upon the previous experience of the students and where they come from in China.
Will we meet in the middle between the East and West someday?
Entry for August, 2007
FOR WHATEVER IT'S WORTH: A BRIEF AND VERY GENERAL COMPARISON OF CHINESE & AMERICAN CUSTOMS AND BEHAVIORS
While each individual is unique, and attitudes have changed along with modernization, during the time we were in China Marcia and I couldn't help noticing what we think are subtle and interesting differences between the more "traditional" ways Americans and Chinese people think and act. Here are just a few:
CHINESE
* Friends, classmates and co-workers are actively involved in each other’s activities and social relationships. Long-time friends are often treated with respect and courtesy, while strangers may be treated casually, or even rudely.
* Almost always eat out, go places and do things only in groups.
* Polite behavior calls for frequent expressions of concern for the well-being of others. Will often say, “You must be tired; please sit down.” or they might snatch a piece of luggage out of the hands of a friend and insist on carrying it for him.
* A visitor who is feeling tired, sick, hungry, or thirsty may not mention it to the hosts.
* Might offer food or beverages many times to a guest. It can be considered impolite or greedy for a visitor to accept something the first time it's offered, even if wanted, though it can be accepted the second or third time.
* It can sometimes be impolite to come right out and say that you don't like something or to refuse a request. May use an indirect way to turn someone down (“I’m sorry, I can’t go hiking with you because I have an appointment.” OR "We'll have to research your request more; it could be difficult.")
* Personal facts such as age, weight and salary are matter-of-fact information.
* Elderly people often gain immediate respect from younger people.
* Less concerned about personal privacy. May openly stare or be stared at without feeling self-conscious.
* Will not usually reveal negative details of family life to others, except very close friends or relatives.
* Don’t usually go on casual dates. Dating is normally a sign that the couple might be considering marriage. Men and women tend to avoid the appearance of intimacy in public.
* Women may hold powerful administrative positions and command equal respect to men solely according to position and rank, but in many business settings, men may have a lot more opportunities available to them to achieve. There is little attention paid in an office, though, to whether one is male or female. In the home, rural families are very male dominated, while city families are usually more egalitarian, or sometimes even ruled by the wife.
* Both parents usually feel they must work full-time (if work is available). Infants go to nurseries and to daycare centers at around 3 months of age. Children often spend most of their early childhood in their grandparents' care and may not spend as much time with their parents.
* Take things as they come and consider plans to be only possibilities. (How can you climb a mountain before you get to it?)
AMERICANS
* Friends, classmates and co-workers seldom get very involved in each other’s personal and social lives. It’s impolite to pry into the personal matters of friends. Long-time friends may be treated quite casually, or even forgotten, while complete strangers are often shown special courtesy.
* Might go places and do things alone.
* Rugged independence rules. To express so much concern over the wellbeing of someone else could imply you think that person is helpless.
* A visitor who is feeling tired, sick, hungry, or thirsty will usually tell someone.
* If a guest refuses food or bevarage once it's been offered, the host may not offer it again. It’s generally understood that a refusal probably means it's really not wanted.
* Likely to indicate directly if they don’t want to do something or don’t like something. (“I don’t really like to hike much, but thanks for the invitation, anyway.” OR " Sorry, we can't do that.")
* May be sensitive about revealing age, weight and salary. Usually impolite to ask.
* Older people are not shown much more respect than younger people. Youth may be prized.
* More concerned about and protective of the “rights” of personal privacy. Staring is a no-no.
* Might even chat with near-strangers in a supermarket about the intimate challenges of their family life.
* Casual dating is common. Men and women often hold hands, hug and kiss in public.
* Women may hold fewer powerful administrative positions, though women in high positions command respect, but sometimes only after "proving" themselves. In business, women and men may have more equal opportunities to achieve. In an office, people are frequently very aware of gender differences. There is more equality between sexes in families.
* It's not that uncommon for women, and sometimes men, with young children to choose to work less or not at all outside the home, if they can, in order to spend more time with their children. Children usually spend most of their childhood under the care of their parents.
* Feel a real need to design a detailed plan and stick to it.
Entry for September, 2007:
Among the many things we found interesting during our stay in China in the 1990s, Marcia and I noticed that, generally speaking, Chinese people would say the words "thank you" (xie xie) to each other a whole lot less often than we do in the West.
At first impact, it might be easy for a culture-shocked foreigner to take this as a sign that these people just don't know how to be polite to each other. But it seemed so curious to us at first, since we also knew how very polite, even overly polite, our Chinese friends were with us. Gradually, a contrast became more apparent to us between what constitutes acceptable conduct in China and our Western manners, which in some ways might seem crass and indifferent by comparison. And also we learned something of the difference between what is expected of friends and of strangers.
Let's face it; in American culture, often the words thank you are more a simple routine formality, than actually a sincere expression of gratitude. We commonly say thank you to a sales clerk who has just sold us something, for example, even though the clerk was just doing his or her job and the store is likely to be benefitting from the transaction more than we are.
In contrast, Chinese people, more often, might simply nod or smile a bit at a sales clerk if they were exceptionally served. But otherwise... why say words you don't mean? In our experience in China, generally, "thank you" was reserved for real expressions of gratitude, like when someone actually went out of their way to help. Even more significantly, in a culture in which human relationships are deeply complex and binding and consitute a kind of currency that you need to get by in the world, these special words also could imply that something is now owed to the person being thanked.
I'll always remember how my students would giggle whenever I automatically said "thank you" as they handed me their completed homework. It must have seemed strange to them, indeed, for me to be thanking them for doing what every teacher normally demands of his students. These words are reserved for someone with whom you have established an obligation and a truly thankful relationship.
We also rarely heard "excuse me" uttered in a crowded street market in China, or when standing in line to get on a bus, where swarming crowds of people constantly bumped into each other, often even pushing one another aside for a better position. But, just like "thank you," "excuse me" in Chinese implies a kind of responsibility. Literally the words mean "I am not worthy to face you." Pretty serious stuff. Is it any wonder that, in such an overpopulated environment as any big city in China, bumping and pushing might be seen to be just a necessary part of life; and who would bother to beg forgiveness or to take the time to pardon someone for a harmless elbow in the side or a step on the toe, when you'd have to do so over and over every day?
In recent trips to China, though, I've noticed that it's becoming more common for those in the service industry and sales people in China to adopt a more Western "customer is king" approach, and the "thank you" routine is beginning to be heard everywhere. The shift from hard, cold socialist practicality to capitalist service with a smile, is really nice to see. Sometimes I wonder, though, are these two little words going to lose their special power to either move the heart or to create bonds of obligation in China if they become as commonplace and habitual as they are here in the West?
Entry for October, 2007:
One of my fondest memories is of my first day of teaching in February, 1991. I was assigned to a conversational English class for second year students at a construction engineering college that was pretty much near the bottom of the rung academically and mostly produced educated workers for factories. It was an atypical winter day in Shandong province; there was a heavy blizzard outside. At the end of a wonderful introductory class, where curious students, mostly village kids from all over China, bombarded me with endearing questions about America, "How many houses and cars do you own?" "Does every American have a gun?" "Did you ever meet Karen Carpenter?" I wrapped myself up in a heavy coat, gloves and scarf and started off on the 10 minute trek through the snow across campus to my apartment, head down against the gusts of wind and snow.
Almost to my door, I heard someone call out behind me, “Teacher!” Running toward me came one of the students I recognized from my class, a boy of about 20 who was also the class monitor. By his clothes, I’d guessed he was from one of the poorer villages in the countryside. He was wearing a peasant’s cloth shoes and wispy thin sox and was trudging through the snow in worn pants soaked nearly to the knees. He had apparently dashed out of the classroom not knowing which apartment was mine and afraid he wouldn’t catch me in time, since he hadn’t taken time to don a jacket or scarf. In his red frozen hand he grasped the cheap ballpoint pen I’d forgotten and left behind on the desk. He held it out to me with a shy grin, hunched over as the wind whipped snow around his cheeks. As I took it from him and mumbled a surprised thank you, deeply touched by this act of thoughtfulness, he said, “Please go inside quickly, Teacher. You might catch a cold.”
Since those days, China has gone through many changes and the kids, especially those from the cities, tend to be a lot more sophisticated. However, from what we've heard from those we talk to in China, this spirit of warm-hearted respect shown by students to teachers and the attitude of self-sacrifice for the benefit of those who are respected is still very much alive, as it has been since the time of Confucius.
Entry for November, 2007:
During the years we lived in China, our favorite mode of long distance travel was by far the train - especially hard sleeper. We still highly recommend it to anyone thinking of taking a trip to China.
Train tickets in China come in four classes: hard seat, soft seat, hard sleeper, and soft sleeper. Hard seat coaches are the most common, and since cheap tickets without a seat assignment are also available in this class, these coaches are frequently extremely crowded, especially during the holiday seasons, often with four people squished into each of the three-person seats, and weary travelers standing and sleeping literally everywhere when seats are not available. Since most of our college students came from all over China, they normally would return home for the holidays by hard seat on the train, some standing for an entire three-day journey.
Soft seat cars are much more regulated, comfortable and uncrowded, but they're normally only found on tourist trains for day trips. Soft sleepers contain enclosed compartments with four bunks and a small table and window in each... quite comfortable, but we always felt bored and isolated from the rest of the train population in our little cramped room with a view on a long trip across the country.
Whenever possible, we tried to get hard sleeper tickets. Less expensive than soft sleeper, and certainly cheaper than flying, it's a wonderful way to take a long trip and see a genuine China in the countryside scenery that glides by your window along the way, and also a nice way to meet people on a very personal level. While the beds are not the most comfortable (something like the leather exam table you'd find in your doctor's office), they're comfortable enough and, besides, we were saving the cost of a hotel on the overnight ride, to boot.
A typical hard sleeper coach is made up of a long row of 66 bunks, contained in eleven open-ended cubicles of six beds each along one wall of the car, each cubicle comprising an upper, middle, and lower bunk on facing sides, and sharing a window and a very small table between them all. The opposite side of the car is lined all the way down with tiny fold-down seats and tables.
Early on, we learned that the middle bunks were always the best ones to score, if you could get the tickets. The top bunk is too close to the ceiling to be able to sit upright. And during the daytime, everyone will array themselves on all the lower bunks, regardless of who is the rightful owner of the bunk's ticket. So if your bed is a lower one, there's no way to stretch out and catch a nap until lights out time in the evening, but you can always clamber up the ladder into your middle berth anytime you like.
When full, the atmosphere in a hard sleeper car can take on the feeling of a mobile camping trip, and as we were foreigners, and usually the only foreigners in the car, we were sure to catch people's attention. On a long trip, as interest in the world outside the window gradually waned, curious travelers would begin wandering over to ask us all kinds of questions and entertain us with all kinds of stories about their lives. Families would share their fruit and tea with us. It became a habit for us to travel with a deck of UNO cards, with which we'd attract a group of children, who were delighted with the new game and the thrill of meeting a real foreign family. Moms, dads and grandparents would usually also gather around to watch and offer sage advice.
It was great fun and we learned more about China and Chinese society while trapped for a day or two in these little traveling mini-communities than could ever be gleaned from a professionally guided tour.
Entry for December, 2007:
WHAT’S IN A NAME?
The more I learned in China about the contrast between the way folks in the East and the West make use of their names and titles, the more fascinating it seemed, maybe because I think it implies something about the deep differences between our two cultures. In China, one first identifies oneself in relation to the larger group, then the smaller group, then within the family, and only after that, as an individual. To illustrate this very clearly we only have to look at Chinese names and addresses. When you write someone’s address in China you first write the country, then the province, then the city or locality, followed by the business unit or location of the home. Only after all this, at the bottom, comes the person’s name. And in China, the family name – or surname – comes first; and at the very, very end is the individual’s given name. Just the opposite of us. And confusion abounds when Eastern and Western names collide.
Chinese names are usually made up of two or three (on rare occasions four) Chinese characters. Each character is pronounced as a single syllable. Li Hai Bo would be addressed as Mr. Li (his family name); Hai Bo is his given name. To the bewilderment of Westerners, Chinese given names written in phonetic "pin yin" may appear as single words, or as two words, or sometimes hyphenated. (e.g. Li Hai Bo, or Li Haibo, or Li Hai-Bo). When Chinese move to Western countries they frequently find it’s better to reverse their names, Western style, to avoid confusing the poor residents of their host country. Thus, Li Hai Bo might change his name to Hai Bo Li. Or possibly, in a hopeless effort to further clarify, Mr. Li might write his name: Li, Haibo. Since the family name is supposed to be first, you can also imagine the difficulty someone Chinese might have explaining in response to the official question, "Which one is your last name?"
A given name in China always has a special meaning, usually bestowed by parents to symbolize their hopes for luck or the character of the child - as in the above case, Haibo means ocean wave. Some of my Chinese friends were deeply puzzled when I replied to their inquiries that, actually, I don’t really know for sure what the heck my own name means.
Unlike here in America, we quickly found out in China that it’s normally considered socially impolite to address an adult by his or her given name, that is unless you are a relative or a pretty good friend and you’re sure you’re around the same age or older. If you know the professional title of the person you’re addressing, it’s better to call him or her by that designation. If Mr. Li is the director of the English Department or a government body, he will normally be called Director Li. A university teacher will be called, “Teacher Chu” or “Professor Wang.” A business person, "Manager Xu." When speaking about a casual acquaintance to someone else, you’d also normally refer to that person by his or her complete name (e.g. Wang Xiao Mei), and not by the given name alone. The generic title “tongzhi” or “comrade” started fading out around the early 90s right along with the slide from socialism to an open market economy, and then it later creeped right back into some fashionable use. (I’ve heard recently, too, that in some mod urban circles it may now be a codeword to refer to a gay friend.)
Since we left China, the terms Mr., Mrs., Miss and Ms. have become quite acceptable for general business and cordial conversations. If Li Haibo is a good friend who is younger than you, you could call him, “Xiao Li,” which means “Little Li.” If he’s an older friend, you could call him “Lao Li,” which means “Old Li.” Both of these are polite terms of friendship or even endearment and may be used for either a man or a woman.
It’s considered rude for children or youth to address adults by their names, especially by their given names. Commonly children will call most adults “Aunty” (Ayi) or “Uncle” (Shushu). If the adult is old enough, children may use the title “Grandmother” or “Grandfather,” or even “Father’s Elder Brother” or “Father’s Elder Sister.” It took a while for me to get used to children shouting to me as I passed, “Hello, Grandpa!” (Ye Ye hao!) Also, depending upon age differences, they may refer to other children or youth they meet by such titles as “Elder Brother” or “Younger Sister.”
A foreigner’s presence in China can cause some confusion, as people might be a little uncertain what the polite form of address should be. Usually Chinese understand that, to be friendly in normal conversation, many Westerners will call each other by their given names, and some of the younger, more modernized Chinese might feel comfortable doing so, too, now. But, in a brave attempt at compromise, a young person will be just as likely to call you “Aunty Ruth” or “Uncle Bob.” Just as confused about what is proper, English students might refer to their foreign teacher as “Teacher Williams” or “Mrs. Mary.” Many simply feel too uncomfortable being asked to call someone by their given name alone, as is common for us to do in America. In the same way that many Chinese find it’s easier to reverse their names when they move to the West, a lot of foreigners in China find it’s just less confusing if they adopt a Chinese name and title.
It’s also become trendy in urban areas for young Chinese to take on English names. Mr. Li Hai Bo may choose to be referred to as Tony Li. In this case, he’ll probably be perfectly happy to be called simply “Tony” by everyone, Western style, as is the practice in Hong Kong and Taiwan, even though it might still feel pretty strange to him to be called “Hai Bo” by anyone but his friends and family.
Speaking of the importance of names, signing one’s name has little legal significance in mainland China. Since ancient times, in official matters, special seals (or “chops”), rather than signatures, have been what’s required on any official document. Chops are normally ivory, plastic or bone hand stamps with the name and/or logo of an individual, official body or business carved in one end. These are used to make a personal ink impression on documents. Individuals and companies usually have their own chops carved with their names in a unique style recognizable by them, and these chops are as closely guarded as cash. There are very strict legal consequences for counterfeiting or stealing chops, just as there would be for forging a signature in the West. And I've noticed that some Chinese friends visiting the U.S. have been reluctant to consider a legal document finalized by doing something as unsubstantial as simply writing your name.
Entry for January, 2008
Among the wide variety of English classes I had the privilege to teach while in China was Beginning English Composition. The simple papers submitted to me by the students were often touching and revealing and the English mistakes only added to their charm. Below are just a few examples from a first-year college class of non-English majors. Most came from small rural villages and had had only three years of required English in high school with little actual practice using the language prior to entering college. None had ever seen an American before having Marcia and me as their teachers.




Zhou En Lai was a Great Hero
I’m was very love Zhou En Lai. He was a great hero in our country. He do anything for the people. For example. One day a man was too tired to go home, he slept in the street. Zhou En Lai found him. He got down the car, and asked the man why. When he knew the man worked too hard to leave, so he asked the driver to take the man to his home. This was a little thing. but I think, as a officer of the country this wasn’t a easy thing. So I thought He was a great hero. Tang Hui Heng
Long long ago, there lived a man, who was very greedy, he never give anything to others. If you say to him “Give me something”, he will be very unhappy.
One day, he went out for a walk with his some friends, when they come to the side of a river, the man falled down into the river, he swayed his hands and cried out with his all strength, “Save me, save me…” One of his friends reach his hand and cried, “Give me your hands”, but the man didn’t give his hand, others did it, too, the same effect was.
Finally, a man, who know with the man very well said, “Take my hands,” the man in the river grasped his friends hands at once. He Song Ning
Chinese and Americans are different in many ways. First of all, they have different characters. When Americans do something they think little. But when Chinese do it they often see other people how to treat the something and often along old customs. This made many chances passed up. Second, among Chinese people and Chinese family they have good real relationships. However, I think friendship between some Americans is ignored. They like money than friendship. Third, I think Americans are more politer than Chinese in some public places. Finally, I think they are different when they do with some politic problems. It may be because they have different society and economy base and different history background. Zhou Li Juan
My hometown is Wei Fang City, which is famous for her wind and kites. Now with light wind blowing my hair, I stood quietly, covered with sunshine. Children were playing with their kites. Some of them were running with a rope, some were holding on all kinds of beautiful kites, others were lying on the soft grassland. I watched them without words, sharing in their happness. The kites now were in sky. They looked like lovely colours full of the sky. I speeked in mind: Dear kite, can you flied over across mountains and oceans to the far away place where my dear teachers live? If you can do so, please say “Hello” to my teacher for me and take love to them. (Dear Teacher: Merry Christmas and happy new year!) Duan Yi Fan





Old Traditions and Modern Society
Whenever and wherever, old traditions are the strongest enemy to the people living in modern society. They sincerely kill our new mind, beating heart, hope for the future and so on.
For example, I’m now in college and I want very much to make some girlfriends, but I very clearly know that if I had done so, I would have been attacked by many people. They would say that I am a playboy. But the God knows that I only want friendship, not others!
Another example, in last summer holiday, I wanted to take some time in writting, but mum said that it was a good way to waste time. So I have no choice but to take my fate lying down. But perhaps I can become one “Proust.”
I hate old traditions. I believe the modern society would make more progress if old traditions were get rid of. Chen Hai Bo
Entry for February, 2008
REVERSE THE CURSE
Spring Festival, a fifteen day holiday period, officially begins with the first day of the first lunar month, what we in the west usually call "Chinese New Year." The celebration is fraught with with fireworks, banquets and extravegant performances. More recently, it's become a tradition to stay up and watch a CCTV all night television spectacular beginning the evening before. But among the many older traditions, symbols representing family unity and good wishes for the coming year abound.
Posters with the Chinese character fu, which roughly means happiness and prosperity, are seen absolutely everywhere during the Spring Festival holiday. As a clear example of the depth of metaphorical imagery and what some might even call superstition that typifies ancient Chinese culture, the character is usually turned upside down during this special festival period. Why? In Chinese, the word that means "upside down," dao, also sounds like the word that means "arrived." Thus, fu upside down, or fu dao, represents the arrival of happiness and prosperity for the new year.
Wishing all of you a very happy and prosperous Year of the Rat!
Entry for March, 2008:
AMERICANS ARE FROM VENUS; CHINESE ARE FROM MARS
It was a warm and pleasant July morning in 1992 in a city park in Jinan. I’d decided on a whim to join an English Corner that was meeting beside a large fountain. English Corner is an informal gathering where students and other fans of English as a foreign language come together to practice using English with each other in casual conversation. Often, participants will divide up by skill into small groups and chat about a prearranged topic. The weekly summer event in this particular park happened to be sponsored by a city English Club.
Whenever a Westerner shows up for one of these, whether by invitation or by accident, a wrench is thrown into the otherwise well-organized works, however. Instead of dividing into small discussion groups according to ability, many dozens of people of all skill levels will swarm around a foreigner in their eagerness to try out whatever new vocabulary words they can on a real native English speaker. On this day, I patiently duplicated my simple answers to the repeated shouts of “How are you?” “Where are you from?” and “What’s your name?” from a bunch of overly zealous beginners hovering around me and monopolizing my attention.
Suddenly, a middle-aged guy with a very unhappy demeanor poked his head between the shoulders of this pack of eager young learners, and interjected in flawless English, “Sir, I just came back from a trip to San Francisco. At your airport, I saw that Taiwan’s airline had a much bigger counter and more service people than our China airline. You see how much the American government looks down on China!” 

Before I could answer him, a couple of pleasantly smiling, oblivious young people chimed in, cheerfully inquiring in unison, “How many money you get teaching in China?” The almost conversation had taken an abrupt turn back to the banal, and my angry but interesting intruder stalked away.
I wouldn't have had the time, anyway, or even the words, to try to explain the immense difference between our two worlds in this case. Of course, in our version of reality, the size of a service counter and how many employees are working for which airline at an airport is mostly dependent upon money and business, not the whims and prejudices of government.
Maybe I’m being simplistic, but the longer Marcia and I lived in China, the more I began to realize how much the difference between these two systems of governing can really inhibit mutual understanding between American and Chinese people.
In the Chinese/Confucian Marxist/Leninist mind, the ideal government is like a wise, concerned, and sometimes stern parent, charged with the responsibility of making sure that the “children,” that is, The People, remain peaceful, safe from disturbances, and contribute to the overall unity of a developing society. Truly judicious leaders must guide, instruct, and issue strict directives for the well-being of those they lead; and in order for a community to be healthy, individuals should subordinate their needs to those of the government and the whole society, as much as possible. Newspapers and the general media are responsible for providing the information that educates and supports proper development of The People, enhances the unity of society, and protects The People from losing trust in the unquestionable ability of their “parents,” that is, the leaders, to guide them wisely. Under less control than this, certainly chaos would reign, and the unity of society would be disrupted.
In the American capitalist democratic mind, the ideal government is a servant of the people, bound to obey the will of the majority. Laws are created by individuals for the purpose of self-protection. Private business is even given some of the same rights as an individual, wherever possible. If there were no laws to protect individuals, government might deprive them of their valued personal freedoms, which must take precedence over simply a general orderliness of society. People have the right to question their chosen leaders, who are in a sense their “employees,” and to call them to task or replace them. Newspapers and the general media are tools for questioning authority and uncovering truth, no matter how ugly it might be. It might sometimes even be at odds with the government or unsettling to the common peaceful order of society, but unruly frankness and freedom of information is more important to a healthy society than any peace created out of blind obedience.
Under both systems, everybody longs for a comfortable, safe, and prosperous life, and the government wants to keep everybody as content as possible with the job they’re doing providing it. In the real world, of course, neither country actually practices the ideal system very well at all. Some would say there are dangerous problems with each and each has its own avenue to corruption. But what the people who are totally immersed in these two systems consider responsible governance, seems to me to be worlds apart. And in everyday intercultural encounters, trouble begins to brew when one side views the other’s actions and reactions through the thick lens of its own political and economic system.
I’m sure you can imagine this: probing foreign journalists flooding Beijing this August during the Olympic Games, many showing as much interest in “uncovering” juicy negative news about China as they do in the athletic events being made open to them. On one side of the ocean, leaders who don’t understand the concepts behind Western journalism will see this as interference by a bully government that is bent on undermining China’s progress in the eyes of the world. On the other side of the Pacific, people who mostly get their news from sensational headlines or TV will see only tyrannical dictatorial leaders who want to keep the doors to information and freedom closed.
Eventually, those of us on Venus and Mars will have to meet each other here on Earth.