Education in China #1

This is going to be an exciting year. Last time I was in China, I taught at an American school, so my daily life from 8-5 was pretty much the same as it had always been. Not a bad thing, but not exactly a new experience. This time its different. I am teaching at Shenzhen Foreign Language School - the preeminent school in Shenzhen, and the only school in Shenzhen to offer US style AP classes. I currently have 2 classes - teaching AP Physics C - and have already made some observations about the differences between Chinese and US students. Today's post, however, revolves around an incident that occurred yesterday. I think it demonstrates a big difference between mindsets in both countries.
I was looking for metersticks and was sent to look for the in them PE teachers office. I wandered down to the office, and knocked on the door. It was 7:30 in the morning, early with no students around, and I wasn't sure if anyone would answer. The door finally creaked open, and a smiling, slightly paunchy man extended his hand Vanna White-esque to demonstrate that I could enter. Upon entering the dimly lit PE teachers office, an strange odor filled my nostrils. Cigarette smoke. I looked around the room and two teachers were in early, sitting at their desks with feet up, smoking away on cigarettes. They offered me one - but I politely declined.
I was shocked initially at the thought of PE teachers, really any teacher, smoking. I am not judgmental, or maybe I am when it comes to smoking, but I feel most non-smoking Americans would struggle if they knew their kids teacher smoked. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. China is still in its infancy. Twenty years ago booming cities like Shenzhen were mere rice paddies. The world was thrust into China's lap much faster than they could adjust. In the short span of twenty years, many Chinese own a car, an expensive computer, and yes, even cigarettes. It took American many years to finally realize smoking might not be the best habit, and I think that mindset has yet to catch up with the Chinese. They are enjoying the good life, proverbial feet up on the desk, watching the world come with hands out, and they are glad to oblige. And please, take a cigarette.

What floor am I on?

I'm back. I'm back in China. I'm back in the Blogosphere. After a rough year last year, I'm back in a lot of ways. And I am glad to be back.
So my new job takes me all the way to Shenzhen - which in the pantheon of Chinese cities is the least known of the so-called first tier cities (Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou being the other members of this exclusive socioeconomic club) It borders Hong Kong - and boasts the high GDP per capita of any Chinese city. And its clean. By China standards.

Last week I had to go apartment hunting after arriving in Shenzhen exhausted, excited but mostly jet-lagged. My Chinese had gotten rusty, but as I entered the real estate agents office and began explaining I was looking for an apartment to rent, I realized that most of what I had learned was still there. Sort of.

As we headed out I told the agent that I wanted to live in a Chinese community. In my previous stint in China, I lived within a housing compound that felt, looked and even smelled like America. This time, I told the agent, I was ready for the real deal. He smiled and said he knew the perfect place.

Upon arrival I was already excited, as the street the apartments were located was bustling with activity. Fish swimming in buckets at a wet market. Old men, shirtless, their bronze skin a reminder of years of toil, happily sitting around playing Mahjong regaling each other with stories. Little kids, their butts sticking out of their Chinese style kid pants, running around screaming in their nascent Chinese.

As I stared at the scene, it all felt so foreign, yet familiar. Comfort can be found in the strangest places, and standing on this street with China all around me, I felt comfort.

Before we went into the apartment complex, the agent turns to me with a serious glint in his eye.

Agent: "I want you to know something about the apartment."
Me: "OK"
Agent: "We have had trouble finding renters for this place, I just want you to know."
Me: "What's wrong with it?"
Agent: "Nothing is wrong with the apartment. Its in good shape."
Me: "What's wrong then?"
Agent: (looking sheepish): "Its on the 4th floor."
Me: "Oh....well, I'm American. I know the number 4 is extremely unlucky in China(it is pronounced the same as the word for death) but I don't think the bad luck will apply to me. As long as its not on the 13th floor, I should be OK."
(Agent and I exchange a look and share a nervous laugh.....)

(BTW: In a Chinese horror movie, this would have been the opening scene, followed by an hour and a half of my apartment and its trappings tormented and eventually ending me. )

I ended up taking it, and everything so far has been good. So far.

Zoom, zoom, zoom....

The first thing that strikes you as you approach is the sound. Incessant and loud, it sounds otherworldly - as if some alien species of locust had descended upon Earth and were walking the streets. The sounds were not from alien locusts however, but alien in a different way - they were F1 race cars. I attended the Singapore Night F1 time trials last night, which was replete with all the trappings of a big event, including a concert by Shakira. (More on her later - but let's just say she is easy to look at:))
As I approached the entry gate, I was immediately struck by the difference in security here in Singapore. The guards that do big events are called Gurkhas. Big, intimidating and wielding a famous(some would say infamous) machete in the belts of their pants, Gurkhas require respect, if not fear, upon first inspection. As I approached the gate, three Gurkhas surrounded me, causing me to contemplate for just a moment how to defend oneself against a machete attack. Alas, they just wanted to see my ticket - which I provided in a very slow motion - moving my hands slowly into my pockets and then lifting the tickets slowly out - I've seen enough cop shows to know the exact way to do this. I also tried to plaster a disarming smile on my face, but that didn't seem to matter to the Gurkhas. I got the sense (and maybe I imagined it) that the biggest Gurkha, who also seemed to be the leader, was slightly disappointed he didn't get a chance to slice me with his machete.
After passing through the gate, my friends and I ended up in an open field which had a stage on one end and food all around.
One thing about the concert - and my friends and I briefly discussed this - is whether or not it is appropriate concert etiquette to put your young son/daughter on your shoulders - making a 5 ft 11 inch man now approximately 7 ft tall. It seems that a lot of people where doing this, and that they were clustered right in front of us.
Shakira was good - she is more eye candy than music talent in my opinion - not that I really cared - but she had a couple of danceable tunes. The video for the F-1 is below - it was taken as I approached the gate - I think you can see the Gurkhas, and you can definitely hear the cars in the street a few feet ahead of me. Enjoy - but don't forget your earplugs.

A long time coming....

Alright faithful readers of my recently dormant blog - you are about to be rewarded with an eruption of stories, pictures and various and sundry other methods of story telling regarding my recent move to Singapore, ie Adam's Adventures 2.0!

I want to start with something for my parents - they want to know what my apartment in Singapore is like: Here are a few pictures of the inside....but the main feature to note is the resort style swimming pool...it is easily the best pool I've ever seen, resort or not.

Hiroshima Part #1

I am continuing today with my retro diary of an April trip to Japan. The final stop on my three tiered jaunt through the land of the rising sun found me in Hiroshima. I doubt few adult people in the world can hear the name of this beautiful and charming Japanese city and not immediately think of August 6, 1945. Its a day when Hiroshima, chosen only because of cloud cover over another Japanese city, became the epicenter, literally and figuratively, of the world's glimpse at the incredible destructive power of the atom. It stands today, rebuilt, as a testament to the resiliency, fortitude and positive attitude of the Japanese people. While strolling through the tree lined streets of Hiroshima on a pleasant, sunny spring day, I was hard pressed to find residue of the the city's tragic past in the faces of the smiling Japanese people I passed, many of them offering a smile and a "Konichiwa". As an American, I expected to be treated much differently by the Hiroshima citizens, or at least the guilt I felt gnawing at my stomach, against common sense, portended a much harsher treatment. Instead, I was awed by the ability of the Japanese to forgive, and stunned with how they view the dropping of the bomb. After talking to several Hiroshima tour guides, it seems that they accept what happened as a consequence of their actions in the war, and deem it an acceptable price to pay for taking part in World War II. They harbor no ill will towards America, and in fact, have turned the greatest simultaneous mass human killing in history into a world wide cry for peace. When visiting the Peace Museum, one can't help but wonder if the entire world had the optimistic outlook and forgiving hearts of these Japanese people if war would be a thing of the past.
As I mentioned earlier, Hiroshima has been rebuilt, and appearances lead me to believe its a thriving, mid sized Japanese city, much like a Columbus, Ohio or Richmond, Virginia. There is, however, one stark reminder of this city's dalliance with the atomic devil. Its called the A-Bomb Dome, and its one of the largest structures in the city, hard to miss, but its size isn't what gripped me as I stared upwards at the twisted mass of metal near the top of the dome. Largely left untouched since that fateful day over 65 years ago, its a monument to the city, those killed by the bomb, and those that survive today. It is located only a few thousand meters from where the bomb exploded, and was one of the few buildings in the entire city left standing after the explosion. The Japanese originally wanted to tear it down, but as they came to terms with the disaster, they came to embrace this building, and its sobering glimpse at a horrific moment in history.

Elvis

Asia, and Japan in particular, is a strange place for Westerners. Asians have been exposed to Western culture and have inculcated Westernity(is that a word?) into their own cultures, but never in a predictable or rational way. Exhibit A of this strange mixture was the group of dancing Elvis's that I had a chance to see when I was in Tokyo. Wandering through a large park on a Sunday afternoon, I heard English music coming from one of the entrances to the park. As I got closer, I could tell that it was American 50's music, and even closer inspection showed a group of people dancing. Oh, but these were not just ordinary Japanese people dancing...no, this was a group of men, all dressed in black, with the pompadour hairdos and dance moves to boot. Apparently, they were having a "dance off" with another group of Elvis impersonators. I found that this goes on every Sunday, and has become something of a tourist attraction in this part of Tokyo. They were serious too...one man had his hand in a cast but was still jumping around and doing impressive dance moves, with little regard to the injured hand. Impressive....or something. I just wonder what these guys do during the week? Are these Japanese businessmen? Do they tell their families about this "hobby"? Do they dress this like this all the time? Do they impersonate other singers? Meatloaf? Elton John? Prince? Lady Gaga?

Cherry Blossoms

This will be the first of several retro blog entries pertaining to my trip to Japan in April. My trip was planned to coincide with the famous blossoming of the cherry trees that takes place yearly during the first week of April. The window to view these blossoms is very small, as the small pink flowers are at peak intensity for about a week, before falling off the tree. The Japanese treat this time of year as a celebration, gathering under the cherry trees with coolers full of Sake and sushi and enjoying the gorgeous views. It was almost sensory overload, as standing in the middle of a path lined with cherry trees on both sides, all one could see was a sea of pinkish flowers. The smell was also sublime, as the the vast number of blossoms inbues the air with a sweet and fresh fragance that takes over Tokyo.