As some of you may recall, I have a thing with bathrooms. I've written about the strange propensity of American public restroom stalls to have gaps so wide you can easily use them to hold your clutch while you're using your facilities. I've written about the lack of decent bathrooms in China, and I've waxed lyrical about the awesomeness of a bathroom visit at work. I have in fact, added a label specifically for this obsession of mine, since I have the feeling this won't be the last time I'll be posting about my various bathroom experiences.
Lately, however, my bathroom experience at work has been marred by a custom that I think might possibly be a truly American invention: the bathroom rhyme.
The bathroom rhyme is nothing more than an admonition to the various bathroom users to do or not do something, set to an iambic pentameter, and written so that it rhymes. They're usually printed on brightly colored paper with a smiley face, a
bunch of flowers, or some other interesting graphics pulled from
Microsoft Words' selection of symbols. A very popular one would be:
"If you sprinkle when you tinkle,
Please be neat and wipe the seat!"
While in Holland, one might find a brusque white piece of paper hung over the toilet stating something like, "(please) wipe the seat after usage!" , here in the US we like to make our toilet users smile. Or chuckle. Or at least have an enjoyable experience while wiping one's urine off the toilet seat. As I'm obviously not a fan of these little bursts of poetry, I'm not sure what the maker is trying to accomplish, other than annoy the heck out of people, but I'm sure they serve some sort of purpose really well, as I see them everywhere.
I've seen these admonitions at the kids' schools, in office buildings, and really any other place filled with the same type of female who will have those encouraging slogans hanging in her cubicle, say things like, "Oh my stars!", and wear hose regardless of the outside temperature. I have, however, never seen them in an academic environment. Well, except the College of Education, but they don't count. They are known to, in an effort to convey the power of teaching through visual aids and bulletin boards, use colorful bulletin boards complete with 3D symbols and slogans to explain everything down to how to apply for Financial Aid. But I digress.
I had never seen these things at work until last week. I was happy. I knew to keep the bathroom clean, and judging by its appearance, so did everyone else. But then one day,when I sat down to do my business, I noticed a new sign on our door. It was neon green, and in bold curly script told the user to "Please don't be in such a rush, when you're done make sure you flush!".
I was so appalled that this fourth grade level PSA style had now also made it into my bathroom, that when I stepped out (after making sure I had flushed, of course), and saw our new secretary coming down the hallway, I said, "Hey, did you see the new sign in the bathroom?"
"Yes!" She beamed, "I wrote that. People kept forgetting to flush. Do you like it?"
As a true southerner, I spoke up before I gave any further thought to the matter, "Yes, it's very cute."
"Good!" The woman warmed to her task, "I was thinking we could also use something to ask people to wipe the seat."
And before I knew it, I once again piped up, "How about 'if you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat'. They use that in the college of education."
"Oh, that is just a great idea! I think I'll use that!" I think the women might have been genuinely excited at my suggestions. I, on the other hand, am still not sure what on earth came over me at that moment.
Anyway, we now have two signs adorning our bathroom. One green, one yellow. And I'm sure there are more to come now that someone has opened the floodgates. I'm thinking "Don't be dope, wash your hands with soap" might be next, but trust me, they won't get it from me.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Aaaand she's back!
(again).
It is with great joy, pride, and relief that I'm able to inform you that my four inch promotion and tenure portfolio was turned in yesterday at approximately 9:25am. Three weeks minutes six hours in the making, with every free hour spent on compiling all the work I've done in the past five years, lots of nightmares about lost letters, misplaced tabs, and random natural disasters destroying my binder, and I still managed to turn it in a day early. Take that, leaders who told me I wasn't up until 2013. You might make me cry, but that won't stop me from turning in a beautifully labeled, militarily organized, and narrated portfolio.
Yes, I'm a nerd.
For those of you who missed the drama: I was always under the impression I wasn't up for promotion and tenure until 2013. Until I, in all of my anal-retentive-type-A awesomeness, decided to attend the p&t prep meeting a year early, and found out, that, guess what! Not only was I up in 2012, but the application, i.e., a portfolio with all my work from the past five years organized into the four categories of teaching, achievement, research, and service, was due three weeks from that day. Today. In case you were wondering why I was absent for three weeks, that's why.
What was most amazing about putting together my portfolio (aside from the fact that I was able to get it done at all) is that I had no idea I had done this much stuff since 2007. No idea at all. Every time I couldn't immediately think of something to fit a specific category (such as "Service: National and International"), it would take just one dive into my filing cabinet for me to realize that hey! I've actually served as a consultant for a Dutch university on the formation of their IRB...cool! Or, oh yeah! I did go to that workshop in DC, I remember now. I had to grade online homework on the breaks. You get the idea.
At any rate, it does finally explain why I'm so tired all the time.
The second amazing finding is that I've finally realized that being a triple-type-A personality with a slight case of OCD is actually really, freaking awesome. From now on, I'm going to no longer mock myself for creating to-do lists for everything, organizing the children's closets based on color, season, and usage, or any of the other things that most people find slightly peculiar. I might even declare September 7 national-love-your-quirks day, in fact. And why? Well, because without my tendency to worry about things years in advance, and organize everything I can get my hands on, I would have not already had a folder labeled "promotion and tenure stuff". A folder in which, for the past two years, I have been tossing everything that might, someday (like, oh, in 2013) be relevant for my portfolio. A folder which, on Thursday night, after I used all of my self-control to not break down during the promotion and tenure prep meeting (known in the DixieChick house as The Meeting), I picked up out of my drawer, took home, and which became the backbone for all the work I did over the next three weeks. I had certificates in there for things I had forgotten all about ("oh, wow, the Air Force gave me this volunteer appreciation certificate. Oh yeah, for working with the airmen. I got a certificate. Honey! Did I ever tell you I got a certificate from the base?").
So now that the blessed thing is out of my hands, the waiting game begins. Officially, we won't hear anything until early January. Unless we're denied, in which case I'll hear something in either September (if the Chair denies me), October (if the Promotion and Tenure committee denies me), or November (if the Dean or Provost denies me). But unofficially, the grapevine around our college works very well, and I should know something within the next month or two.
With the type-A/anal retentive/OCD personality outlined in the previous paragraph, you would think I am on pins and needles to find out the results of the process. Heck, I would expect me to be on pins and needles. But strangely enough, I'm not. (well, not yet, anyway). I actually feel pretty confident right now. Not only was my confidence boosted by the fact that apparently a lot of people on campus really like me, if judged by the ease and speed with which everyone I asked wrote these glowing letters of recommendation for me, and by the sheer volume of the stuff I was able to put in the portfolio, but also by the fact that if the committee sticks to the rubric they give to candidates, I should get somewhere around a 108%.
I'm sure that within the next few weeks and days (heck, even hours, knowing me), I'll change my mind, and convince myself that there is NO way any one is ever going to give me tenure, let alone promotion. But for now, I'm feeling pretty OK.
So with that thought (and the promise of lots of stories about bathroom rhymes to come this week), I'll wish you all a very awesome weekend!
It is with great joy, pride, and relief that I'm able to inform you that my four inch promotion and tenure portfolio was turned in yesterday at approximately 9:25am. Three weeks minutes six hours in the making, with every free hour spent on compiling all the work I've done in the past five years, lots of nightmares about lost letters, misplaced tabs, and random natural disasters destroying my binder, and I still managed to turn it in a day early. Take that, leaders who told me I wasn't up until 2013. You might make me cry, but that won't stop me from turning in a beautifully labeled, militarily organized, and narrated portfolio.
Yes, I'm a nerd.
For those of you who missed the drama: I was always under the impression I wasn't up for promotion and tenure until 2013. Until I, in all of my anal-retentive-type-A awesomeness, decided to attend the p&t prep meeting a year early, and found out, that, guess what! Not only was I up in 2012, but the application, i.e., a portfolio with all my work from the past five years organized into the four categories of teaching, achievement, research, and service, was due three weeks from that day. Today. In case you were wondering why I was absent for three weeks, that's why.
What was most amazing about putting together my portfolio (aside from the fact that I was able to get it done at all) is that I had no idea I had done this much stuff since 2007. No idea at all. Every time I couldn't immediately think of something to fit a specific category (such as "Service: National and International"), it would take just one dive into my filing cabinet for me to realize that hey! I've actually served as a consultant for a Dutch university on the formation of their IRB...cool! Or, oh yeah! I did go to that workshop in DC, I remember now. I had to grade online homework on the breaks. You get the idea.
At any rate, it does finally explain why I'm so tired all the time.
The second amazing finding is that I've finally realized that being a triple-type-A personality with a slight case of OCD is actually really, freaking awesome. From now on, I'm going to no longer mock myself for creating to-do lists for everything, organizing the children's closets based on color, season, and usage, or any of the other things that most people find slightly peculiar. I might even declare September 7 national-love-your-quirks day, in fact. And why? Well, because without my tendency to worry about things years in advance, and organize everything I can get my hands on, I would have not already had a folder labeled "promotion and tenure stuff". A folder in which, for the past two years, I have been tossing everything that might, someday (like, oh, in 2013) be relevant for my portfolio. A folder which, on Thursday night, after I used all of my self-control to not break down during the promotion and tenure prep meeting (known in the DixieChick house as The Meeting), I picked up out of my drawer, took home, and which became the backbone for all the work I did over the next three weeks. I had certificates in there for things I had forgotten all about ("oh, wow, the Air Force gave me this volunteer appreciation certificate. Oh yeah, for working with the airmen. I got a certificate. Honey! Did I ever tell you I got a certificate from the base?").
So now that the blessed thing is out of my hands, the waiting game begins. Officially, we won't hear anything until early January. Unless we're denied, in which case I'll hear something in either September (if the Chair denies me), October (if the Promotion and Tenure committee denies me), or November (if the Dean or Provost denies me). But unofficially, the grapevine around our college works very well, and I should know something within the next month or two.
With the type-A/anal retentive/OCD personality outlined in the previous paragraph, you would think I am on pins and needles to find out the results of the process. Heck, I would expect me to be on pins and needles. But strangely enough, I'm not. (well, not yet, anyway). I actually feel pretty confident right now. Not only was my confidence boosted by the fact that apparently a lot of people on campus really like me, if judged by the ease and speed with which everyone I asked wrote these glowing letters of recommendation for me, and by the sheer volume of the stuff I was able to put in the portfolio, but also by the fact that if the committee sticks to the rubric they give to candidates, I should get somewhere around a 108%.
I'm sure that within the next few weeks and days (heck, even hours, knowing me), I'll change my mind, and convince myself that there is NO way any one is ever going to give me tenure, let alone promotion. But for now, I'm feeling pretty OK.
So with that thought (and the promise of lots of stories about bathroom rhymes to come this week), I'll wish you all a very awesome weekend!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Pie en Tie
Pie en Tie - dat is sinds afgelopen donderdag het centrum van mijn leven. De reden van mijn bestaan. Daar sta ik mee op, en ga ik mee naar bed. En soms droom ik er zelfs over.
Pie en Tie staat natuurlijk voor "promotion and tenure", het gevreesde "maken of breken" moment van elke Amerikaanse academicus. Waar je in Nederland na een jaar een vast contract krijgt, mits je niemand vermoord hebt, de secretaresse te vriend hebt gehouden, en je studenten ook niet gillend weggelopen zijn, is het hier in Amerika een heel ander verhaal. Hier mag je na zes vijf jaar bewijzen, door middel van een enorme portfolio, dat je een mega-geweldige onderzoeker-slash-onderwijzer-slash-community-activist bent. Kan je dat, dan krijg je promotie (naar Associate Professor) en "tenure", oftewel, het felbegeerde vaste contract.
Volgens mijn planning de planning van mijn vakgroepsvoorzitter zou ik in 2013 opgaan voor "p & t". En mijn planning hield dus in dat ik de hele zomer voor de deadline mezelf bezig zou houden met het in elkaar zetten van een prachtige portfolio. Ik zou een mooie, zakelijke-maar-simpele map uitzoeken. Er zouden bijpassende tabbladen bijkomen, met mooie geprinte labels. Ik zou de tijd uittrekken om elk stuk bewijs, elk certificaat, elke inhoudsopgave, elke studentenevaluatie te scannen en van pagina nummer te voorzien, zodat alles makkelijk te vinden was. Ik zou een wel-doordachte afweging maken over welke zwaarte ik aan welke categorie zou toekennen (onderwijs, onderzoek, academische ontwikkeling, service). En ik zou mooi de tijd er voor nemen. Ik zou, met andere woorden, niet alles tot het laatste moment laten liggen en moeten stressen.
Juist.
Toen ik afgelopen donderdag dus vernam dat mijn vakgroepsvoorzitter een cruciale berekeningsfout had gemaakt, en mijn portfolio op 7 september af moest zijn, vielen al die mooie plannen in een keer in duigen. In plaats van een mooie, zakelijke maar simpele multomap, heb ik een zwarte three-ring-binder bij Staples gekocht. Mijn tabbladen vond ik in de keukenla die we normaal gebruiken voor de schoolspullen van de jongens, en de nummering doe ik gewoon met de hand. Ik hoop en bid dat ik met mijn gekozen percentages mezelf niet al teveel in mijn vingers snij, en probeer ondertussen vooral te blijven lachen. Want dit is natuurlijk, voor een triple-A-persoonlijkheid als mijzelf de allerergste nachtmerrie.
Maar als ik eerlijk ben is dit eigenlijk heel erg goed nieuws. Want of ik weet dit jaar of ik tenure heb, en me dus niet meer met onbeschofte studenten hoef bezig te houden, of ik hoor dat ik volgend jaar op zoek mag naar een nieuwe baan, en dan hoef ik me dus ook niet meer onbeschofte studenten bezig te houden.
Eigenlijk is het dus gewoon een win-win situatie.
Nou ja, een beetje dan.
Pie en Tie staat natuurlijk voor "promotion and tenure", het gevreesde "maken of breken" moment van elke Amerikaanse academicus. Waar je in Nederland na een jaar een vast contract krijgt, mits je niemand vermoord hebt, de secretaresse te vriend hebt gehouden, en je studenten ook niet gillend weggelopen zijn, is het hier in Amerika een heel ander verhaal. Hier mag je na
Volgens
Juist.
Toen ik afgelopen donderdag dus vernam dat mijn vakgroepsvoorzitter een cruciale berekeningsfout had gemaakt, en mijn portfolio op 7 september af moest zijn, vielen al die mooie plannen in een keer in duigen. In plaats van een mooie, zakelijke maar simpele multomap, heb ik een zwarte three-ring-binder bij Staples gekocht. Mijn tabbladen vond ik in de keukenla die we normaal gebruiken voor de schoolspullen van de jongens, en de nummering doe ik gewoon met de hand. Ik hoop en bid dat ik met mijn gekozen percentages mezelf niet al teveel in mijn vingers snij, en probeer ondertussen vooral te blijven lachen. Want dit is natuurlijk, voor een triple-A-persoonlijkheid als mijzelf de allerergste nachtmerrie.
Maar als ik eerlijk ben is dit eigenlijk heel erg goed nieuws. Want of ik weet dit jaar of ik tenure heb, en me dus niet meer met onbeschofte studenten hoef bezig te houden, of ik hoor dat ik volgend jaar op zoek mag naar een nieuwe baan, en dan hoef ik me dus ook niet meer onbeschofte studenten bezig te houden.
Eigenlijk is het dus gewoon een win-win situatie.
Nou ja, een beetje dan.
Monday, August 20, 2012
One heck of a start indeed...
So when I wrote last week's post I honestly did not intend to just go AWOL on everyone for a whole week. I'm sorry if I made you all wonder if I had just quit my job, the south, and my blog in utter frustration. Just to let you know, no, I haven't. I'm still here. I'm like those southern roaches I'm always blogging about, no matter how hard you try, I just keep sneaking back into your garage.
No, the reason I have been away is because last week was one heck of a week. It was a week with a star. Or a sticker. A week that, if there were such things, would win the prize for suckiest week of the year.
For starters, there was the whole invitation to kiss someone's backside. Then, there was that same student throwing a major temper tantrum in my office later that same day. A temper tantrum of such epic proportions, police had to be called, classes had to be cancelled, and reports had to be filed. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I, after 2,5 months of let's say, being without any sign of womanhood (OK, fine, after ten weeks of not having a period, happy now?), thought that maybe I had somehow, miraculously, through nothing less than act from God had gotten pregnant, was once again proven wrong. Not only was I not pregnant, but the lack of periods as well as some other great symptoms could possibly be the sign of something else. You know, something not-pregnant, physically not quite right with me. And as if that wasn't enough, Jimmie started to exhibit the same symptoms that landed him in the hospital two years ago, and on Thursday, I found out, by accident that not only was I up for promotion and tenure this year (as opposed to next, as I had been told repeatedly for the past few years), my portfolio is due in three weeks. Well, two and a half now.
So, we're kind of in DefCon 5 over here in the Dixiechick house. We'll make and will do just fine, but for now, just bear with me.
No, the reason I have been away is because last week was one heck of a week. It was a week with a star. Or a sticker. A week that, if there were such things, would win the prize for suckiest week of the year.
For starters, there was the whole invitation to kiss someone's backside. Then, there was that same student throwing a major temper tantrum in my office later that same day. A temper tantrum of such epic proportions, police had to be called, classes had to be cancelled, and reports had to be filed. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I, after 2,5 months of let's say, being without any sign of womanhood (OK, fine, after ten weeks of not having a period, happy now?), thought that maybe I had somehow, miraculously, through nothing less than act from God had gotten pregnant, was once again proven wrong. Not only was I not pregnant, but the lack of periods as well as some other great symptoms could possibly be the sign of something else. You know, something not-pregnant, physically not quite right with me. And as if that wasn't enough, Jimmie started to exhibit the same symptoms that landed him in the hospital two years ago, and on Thursday, I found out, by accident that not only was I up for promotion and tenure this year (as opposed to next, as I had been told repeatedly for the past few years), my portfolio is due in three weeks. Well, two and a half now.
So, we're kind of in DefCon 5 over here in the Dixiechick house. We'll make and will do just fine, but for now, just bear with me.
Monday, August 13, 2012
One heck of a start...
This semester is going to be one of its kind. How do you know, you ask? Well, it wasn't the sophomore advisee who barged into my office without knocking this morning. It also wasn't the fact that she demanded I printed out a form that I told her she needed to bring in two weeks ago. And it also had nothing to do with the fact that when I told her no, she proceeded to lament about the fact that she had no money at all, and I was being incredibly unhelpful. Nope. It was her telling me to kiss her ass right as she swept out of my office five minutes later (on her way to the office to complain about me). As my next-door-neighbor told me later, that had to be some sort of record. Asses were already being whipped around, and it wasn't even nine in the morning yet.
I would love to say something funny, ironic, or deeply insightful about this, but after five years of being told to kiss ass, show some sympathy, be reasonable, and stop dressing like a banker, I've run out of smart comebacks. I honestly thought that whenever I wrote about incidents like these several years ago, that would be the one and only time they would happen to me.
Unfortunately, they're not.
There was the student who threw a chair across the classroom when he found out that due to our class rotation, he wasn't graduating that semester. There was the student who, upon hearing her graduation portfolio did not meet the requirements, threw such a tantrum that people from adjacent departments stepped in to see what was going on. There was the student who was so mad at his quiz grade, he tore a sheaf of papers out of my hand, and then wouldn't let me pass him on my way to the office (campus police had to come in and deal with him). There were countless other incidents were students were rude, disrespectful, or just downright mean. And at one point, writing (and reading, I'm sure) about them is just not funny anymore.
So, why do you stay? You ask.
I would love to say it's the students. It used to be all about the students. Many of our students are fiercely bright, and deserve a chance at college, at a career, at life. These students used to be the reason I would deal with the crazy outliers. But in recent years, it seems as though these crazy outliers have become the dominant group on campus. They're customers, and they'll behave every damn way they please, because they're paying our salaries, thankyouverymuch.
So as I ponder another semester, I can't help but wonder if this year's batch of sophomores will be better, smarter, more respectful, less demanding, less myopic, easier to like. If they'll be the ones to restore my hope in this particular generation, my career, and whether or not what I do actually makes one iota of a difference.
I sure hope so.
I would love to say something funny, ironic, or deeply insightful about this, but after five years of being told to kiss ass, show some sympathy, be reasonable, and stop dressing like a banker, I've run out of smart comebacks. I honestly thought that whenever I wrote about incidents like these several years ago, that would be the one and only time they would happen to me.
Unfortunately, they're not.
There was the student who threw a chair across the classroom when he found out that due to our class rotation, he wasn't graduating that semester. There was the student who, upon hearing her graduation portfolio did not meet the requirements, threw such a tantrum that people from adjacent departments stepped in to see what was going on. There was the student who was so mad at his quiz grade, he tore a sheaf of papers out of my hand, and then wouldn't let me pass him on my way to the office (campus police had to come in and deal with him). There were countless other incidents were students were rude, disrespectful, or just downright mean. And at one point, writing (and reading, I'm sure) about them is just not funny anymore.
So, why do you stay? You ask.
I would love to say it's the students. It used to be all about the students. Many of our students are fiercely bright, and deserve a chance at college, at a career, at life. These students used to be the reason I would deal with the crazy outliers. But in recent years, it seems as though these crazy outliers have become the dominant group on campus. They're customers, and they'll behave every damn way they please, because they're paying our salaries, thankyouverymuch.
So as I ponder another semester, I can't help but wonder if this year's batch of sophomores will be better, smarter, more respectful, less demanding, less myopic, easier to like. If they'll be the ones to restore my hope in this particular generation, my career, and whether or not what I do actually makes one iota of a difference.
I sure hope so.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Learning from China..
I have been back at work for a week today, and surprised to find that one week was all it took for the glow of my trip to China to fade. A week of endless faculty meetings, compliance workshops, IRB proposals, confused freshmen, more meetings, five brand new syllabi, and some awesome! new! software! and China appears a million miles away. Whenever I get in my car to drive the 90 miles back home, I sometimes muse on the awesome commute I had in China (eight flights of stairs). And whenever I walk past our main dining hall, where the smell of fried food makes your tastebuds tingle, I yearn for the succulent sweet and sour chicken the dining hall in Xiamen used to serve.
I realized I needed to write at least one final post to round off my China tales. I mean, I couldn't leave everyone hanging with my stories about Taiwan, and then just move right into "the ten strangest questions asked by college freshmen". But writing the final post would mean that summer was really over, and normal life had really started up again, and for the past week, I have not been quite ready to face that reality. However, with a million-an-one blog ideas running around in my head, I realize I don't have a choice. So, as a final post about China, I give you: The top ten things I learned from China:
10. Using chopsticks is great for portion control. When you're a clumsy idiot like myself, this is mainly because you don't know how to properly use the damn things, and all the food you finally get between the little sticks keeps falling off. If you are a little more adept at eating with chopsticks, or if you, like me, finally do get the hang of it, you realize that they will only carry so much food to your mouth at a time. So chicken is eaten one piece at a time, rice is consumed in portions no larger than your thumbnail, and broccoli needs to be consumed in small little tendrils. Since eating with chopsticks does take more time (and effort, initially) than eating with a spoon or a fork, you actually find yourself experiencing that "Oh, I think I've had enough" feeling before your plate is empty, instead of twenty minutes after dinner when you've already started munching on something else because you still "feel hungry".
9. Central Air Conditioning Rocks. Nuff said.
8. Walking in the rain can actually be really nice. I know that out here in the US we either sprint to our car or avoid going to outside altogether when it rains, but when you don't have a choice (because you're in the dining hall, and it's about to close since lunch just ended), you find that walking in the rain (with an umbrella) is actually quite soothing. There's something quiet about walking amidst the rain drops, seeing everything get wet, and then experiencing the instant relief when you step into a building.
7. Being surrounded by nothing but nice people can be annoying. Although I didn't care much for the surly "leave me alone" attitude displayed by many Chinese out in public, being back on campus, surrounded by people who all say "Hi, how are you" and expect an answer back has made me rethink that. Call me Scrooge, but I kind of enjoyed being able to walk somewhere and not have to worry whether or not I was offending people by not saying "hi". On the same note, it was also somewhat of a relief to not have to worry about queuing or personal space, and just go about your business without having to worry about everyone else's feelings and opinions.
6. Having a dry towel to use after your shower is a luxury. Truly, it is.
5. The same goes for clean bathrooms and toilet paper. The most disgusting public restroom here in the US can't hold a candle to what I saw in China, and that is something to be very, very grateful for.
4. Bureaucracy can always get worse. Yes, we have it pretty bad here in the US, we do. Especially her in Georgia, where the state legislature recently passed new regulations for acquiring a Georgia driver's license (I think it involves sacrificing your firstborn as proof of citizenship, but I could be wrong), but it's got nothing on China. I mean, on our last night in Beijing, the hotel almost wouldn't let us check in, because some of the stamps we had received at the Beijing airport when we arrived in China weren't completely legible. If it hadn't been for our Chinese translator losing his cool, we would have probably spent the night at the airport (which considering the state of the hotel rooms - think hairs in the bed, stains on the sheets, and dead bugs on the floor and the walls - wouldn't have been so bad).
3. Walking everywhere in 100+ heat is something you can get used to, and learn to enjoy after a while. Sure, the first few times you feel like you will die if you don't get into some AC stat, but after a few days, when you've learned why Chinese people always carry an umbrella, why water is sold in 1.5L bottles, and that sweating is way of life, you do learn to like the slow little sojourns you have to take on a daily basis.
2. Religious freedom should not be taken for granted. In China, I had the opportunity to attend an English-speaking church, where I learned how much the Chinese government has limited religious expressions, outreach, and ministry. It doesn't permit bible studies, small groups, or church-sponsored activities, and foreigners are not allowed to discuss religion with Chinese nationals. This doesn't mean that all of this doesn't happen anyway, albeit underground, but it did make me appreciate the fact that while those fundamentalist bible-thumpers back in Georgia might shun you if you tell them you're - gasp- not a baptist, at least they don't have the power to throw you in jail, or send you off to do forced labor. And that's worth something.
1. Even though I might be a little older than I was when I first traveled to Southeast Asia, and I might feel a greater need for creature comforts, traveling around the world really still is "my thing". I think I've spent enough time exploring Georgia, it's time to start exploring the world again.
I realized I needed to write at least one final post to round off my China tales. I mean, I couldn't leave everyone hanging with my stories about Taiwan, and then just move right into "the ten strangest questions asked by college freshmen". But writing the final post would mean that summer was really over, and normal life had really started up again, and for the past week, I have not been quite ready to face that reality. However, with a million-an-one blog ideas running around in my head, I realize I don't have a choice. So, as a final post about China, I give you: The top ten things I learned from China:
10. Using chopsticks is great for portion control. When you're a clumsy idiot like myself, this is mainly because you don't know how to properly use the damn things, and all the food you finally get between the little sticks keeps falling off. If you are a little more adept at eating with chopsticks, or if you, like me, finally do get the hang of it, you realize that they will only carry so much food to your mouth at a time. So chicken is eaten one piece at a time, rice is consumed in portions no larger than your thumbnail, and broccoli needs to be consumed in small little tendrils. Since eating with chopsticks does take more time (and effort, initially) than eating with a spoon or a fork, you actually find yourself experiencing that "Oh, I think I've had enough" feeling before your plate is empty, instead of twenty minutes after dinner when you've already started munching on something else because you still "feel hungry".
9. Central Air Conditioning Rocks. Nuff said.
8. Walking in the rain can actually be really nice. I know that out here in the US we either sprint to our car or avoid going to outside altogether when it rains, but when you don't have a choice (because you're in the dining hall, and it's about to close since lunch just ended), you find that walking in the rain (with an umbrella) is actually quite soothing. There's something quiet about walking amidst the rain drops, seeing everything get wet, and then experiencing the instant relief when you step into a building.
7. Being surrounded by nothing but nice people can be annoying. Although I didn't care much for the surly "leave me alone" attitude displayed by many Chinese out in public, being back on campus, surrounded by people who all say "Hi, how are you" and expect an answer back has made me rethink that. Call me Scrooge, but I kind of enjoyed being able to walk somewhere and not have to worry whether or not I was offending people by not saying "hi". On the same note, it was also somewhat of a relief to not have to worry about queuing or personal space, and just go about your business without having to worry about everyone else's feelings and opinions.
6. Having a dry towel to use after your shower is a luxury. Truly, it is.
5. The same goes for clean bathrooms and toilet paper. The most disgusting public restroom here in the US can't hold a candle to what I saw in China, and that is something to be very, very grateful for.
4. Bureaucracy can always get worse. Yes, we have it pretty bad here in the US, we do. Especially her in Georgia, where the state legislature recently passed new regulations for acquiring a Georgia driver's license (I think it involves sacrificing your firstborn as proof of citizenship, but I could be wrong), but it's got nothing on China. I mean, on our last night in Beijing, the hotel almost wouldn't let us check in, because some of the stamps we had received at the Beijing airport when we arrived in China weren't completely legible. If it hadn't been for our Chinese translator losing his cool, we would have probably spent the night at the airport (which considering the state of the hotel rooms - think hairs in the bed, stains on the sheets, and dead bugs on the floor and the walls - wouldn't have been so bad).
3. Walking everywhere in 100+ heat is something you can get used to, and learn to enjoy after a while. Sure, the first few times you feel like you will die if you don't get into some AC stat, but after a few days, when you've learned why Chinese people always carry an umbrella, why water is sold in 1.5L bottles, and that sweating is way of life, you do learn to like the slow little sojourns you have to take on a daily basis.
2. Religious freedom should not be taken for granted. In China, I had the opportunity to attend an English-speaking church, where I learned how much the Chinese government has limited religious expressions, outreach, and ministry. It doesn't permit bible studies, small groups, or church-sponsored activities, and foreigners are not allowed to discuss religion with Chinese nationals. This doesn't mean that all of this doesn't happen anyway, albeit underground, but it did make me appreciate the fact that while those fundamentalist bible-thumpers back in Georgia might shun you if you tell them you're - gasp- not a baptist, at least they don't have the power to throw you in jail, or send you off to do forced labor. And that's worth something.
1. Even though I might be a little older than I was when I first traveled to Southeast Asia, and I might feel a greater need for creature comforts, traveling around the world really still is "my thing". I think I've spent enough time exploring Georgia, it's time to start exploring the world again.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Learning to love China. I mean Taiwan. Or China?
I believe it's impossible to visit Taiwan and China on the same trip and not write about it. The experience of visiting two countries that used to be one, and that would rather be one (albeit under very different conditions) is both historical and slightly schizophrenic, while visiting Taiwan after having spent over two weeks in China is also a welcome breath of fresh air.
Now although I use the term "Taiwan", this is a definitely a word you don't want to bandy around lightly when visiting that part of the world, as it's a word that makes very few people in Asia happy (except perhaps some ignorant tourists). You see, the Taiwanese prefer to refer to themselves as "the Republic of China" (as opposed to the "People's Republic of China" across the strait), using the term "Taiwan" to only refer to the actual island of Taiwan, while the Chinese are still trying to get the Taiwanese to understand that the party is really over, and it's time to return to the fold.
The story of how Taiwan, or the Republic of China came into existence varies greatly depending on whom you ask. When visiting Jimei, a historical site outside of Xiamen, our tour guide waxed lyrical on the victory of the People's Liberation Army that defeated the nationalist dictatorship and established new China. If we leave out the euphemisms, she was basically getting excited about the fact that the communists defeated the nationalists in the decades-long civil war, and China has from then on been ruled by the communists. Chang Kai Shek's final defeat came in the fall of 1949, on the island of Xiamen, when the Communists successfully drove the nationalists off China's mainland.
What the tour guide failed to mention, however, was that Chang Kai Shek withdrew to Jinmen, an island that was then part of the province of Taiwan, and only an hour away from Xiamen. He established a nationalist China in Taiwan, successfully (and quite bloodily) defeating the communists when they tried to take Jinmen. Up until the 1970s, most of the west did not recognize the People's Republic of China (i.e., the communists), but instead saw Taiwan (you know, the Republic of China) as the "real China". Tour guides in China usually don't tell you that.
Tour guides on Jinmen, however, are more than happy to relate that part of Chinese history, and will insist that Taiwan (or the Republic of...oh, whatever) is the "real" China. They will also gleefully point out that unlike the mainland, Taiwan went through a process of democratization after the communist defeat, and is now not only as democratic as most Western nations, but also maintains close ties with those same countries.
In practice, this translates to an island that, although it's distinctly Chinese, has western-style bathrooms (and pipes!), sports Western stores (my students almost swooned when they saw a 7-11) and goods (same for an ad for Goodyear tires), and has a Western attitude towards customer service (the statement of the day being, "Oh my God, Professor, that lady just smiled at me! She smiled!"). After two plus weeks of living in less-than-sanitary conditions, dealing with overcrowded everythings, and perpetually crabby people, our visit to Jinmen was a breath of fresh air. Here people were, to use my students' words, "just normal".
Obviously, the sights were quite impressive as well. There were abandoned bunkers, wetlands, ancient towns, and beautiful temples. But the most impressive thing we saw, was an enormous building constructed by Chang Kai Shek himself. It was as wide as it was tall, and sported beautifully decorated ceilings and doors. When we asked the tour guide what the purpose of the building was, he explained, "Once Chan Kai Shek realized he was never going to be able to return to China, he built this house so that on days when he was really homesick, he could walk to the top floor and look at China across the sea, and feel like he was home just a little."
Even though we all realized probably never know which reality about Taiwan-China relationships is true, that last sentiment is one with which everyone could agree.
Now although I use the term "Taiwan", this is a definitely a word you don't want to bandy around lightly when visiting that part of the world, as it's a word that makes very few people in Asia happy (except perhaps some ignorant tourists). You see, the Taiwanese prefer to refer to themselves as "the Republic of China" (as opposed to the "People's Republic of China" across the strait), using the term "Taiwan" to only refer to the actual island of Taiwan, while the Chinese are still trying to get the Taiwanese to understand that the party is really over, and it's time to return to the fold.
The story of how Taiwan, or the Republic of China came into existence varies greatly depending on whom you ask. When visiting Jimei, a historical site outside of Xiamen, our tour guide waxed lyrical on the victory of the People's Liberation Army that defeated the nationalist dictatorship and established new China. If we leave out the euphemisms, she was basically getting excited about the fact that the communists defeated the nationalists in the decades-long civil war, and China has from then on been ruled by the communists. Chang Kai Shek's final defeat came in the fall of 1949, on the island of Xiamen, when the Communists successfully drove the nationalists off China's mainland.
What the tour guide failed to mention, however, was that Chang Kai Shek withdrew to Jinmen, an island that was then part of the province of Taiwan, and only an hour away from Xiamen. He established a nationalist China in Taiwan, successfully (and quite bloodily) defeating the communists when they tried to take Jinmen. Up until the 1970s, most of the west did not recognize the People's Republic of China (i.e., the communists), but instead saw Taiwan (you know, the Republic of China) as the "real China". Tour guides in China usually don't tell you that.
Tour guides on Jinmen, however, are more than happy to relate that part of Chinese history, and will insist that Taiwan (or the Republic of...oh, whatever) is the "real" China. They will also gleefully point out that unlike the mainland, Taiwan went through a process of democratization after the communist defeat, and is now not only as democratic as most Western nations, but also maintains close ties with those same countries.
In practice, this translates to an island that, although it's distinctly Chinese, has western-style bathrooms (and pipes!), sports Western stores (my students almost swooned when they saw a 7-11) and goods (same for an ad for Goodyear tires), and has a Western attitude towards customer service (the statement of the day being, "Oh my God, Professor, that lady just smiled at me! She smiled!"). After two plus weeks of living in less-than-sanitary conditions, dealing with overcrowded everythings, and perpetually crabby people, our visit to Jinmen was a breath of fresh air. Here people were, to use my students' words, "just normal".
Obviously, the sights were quite impressive as well. There were abandoned bunkers, wetlands, ancient towns, and beautiful temples. But the most impressive thing we saw, was an enormous building constructed by Chang Kai Shek himself. It was as wide as it was tall, and sported beautifully decorated ceilings and doors. When we asked the tour guide what the purpose of the building was, he explained, "Once Chan Kai Shek realized he was never going to be able to return to China, he built this house so that on days when he was really homesick, he could walk to the top floor and look at China across the sea, and feel like he was home just a little."
Even though we all realized probably never know which reality about Taiwan-China relationships is true, that last sentiment is one with which everyone could agree.
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