Zhen's Little Red Blog

I did not witness this chaos for myself since I left downtown by 4:30pm on Christmas Eve. It's the karaoke and midnight mass that draws in the crowds, apparently.

You may have heard that China is quietly undergoing “education reform”. This is in no way anything like the immediate explosion of economic reform the country experience after the Tienanmen Square protests in 1989. This is the kind of reform that is only just now being openly talked about. It is the kind of reform that at present time will only benefit very few; reform that will undoubtedly struggle for years before any major consensus is reached. But hey, I guess that’s better than no reform at all.

Presently, quality education is a very expensive commodity in China. A small percentage of Chinese can afford to send their children to school. University is reserved for the highest social class and only the best of the best and wealthiest of the wealthy are able to study overseas in the western schools. Any of us who have ever set foot on large public university in a western country know we can expect a large part of the student body to be made up of international students hailing from all over Asia—what we may not realize is how tiny this representation truly is. For each of the thousands of Chinese who attend any given western university every year, there are thousands more who will never set foot in any kind of university. And those born in rural China are lucky if they even attend primary, middle, or high school.
China is very fortunate for each overseas student who decides to return and make a life here. These are the people who change China for the better—the people who will be at the forefront of genuine educational reform. Once you get a taste for free thought, nothing else will do.

The private English language school where I work values itself as a proponent of western teaching methodology. Our materials are some of the best and most expensive available, developed in the UK and the United States. The school is equipped with the latest interactive technology and the facilities are new and sparkly, with a cleaning staff working 13 hour shifts 6 days a week. The place certainly looks impressive, and with a full-time American teacher on staff, it all seems worth the very hefty tuition price.

No one stops to ask why everything in the school is aimed at impressing potential clients rather than providing a nurturing learning environment for the children. Like so much of the commercial development in large Chinese cities—it’s all just a pretty façade and no real substance. For instance, the apartment I live in is beautiful and brand new, but already cracks are popping up in all the finishing work and if you open the cabinet and look underneath the kitchen sink, you’ll find a bendable plastic hose instead of a real pipe.

One of the foreign teachers at the adult language “sister” school has been visiting in order to observe and develop useful suggestions. He said it best when he described the place as a school with a “children’s motif that is designed to impress parents yet serves no functional purpose for learning". In the case of this school, it's about throwing enough money away on flashy facilities that have western appeal rather than actually following any kind of western methodology. I'll be lucky to wrangle some simple art supplies out of the management this month for Christmas activities, yet we were able to afford the spiffy track lighting in the lobby. Parents who place their kids in these private schools are not unlike the well-to-do families who drop 300 yuan for dinner at Pizza Hut--who cares if the product actually sucks; it's more important that they can afford it in the first place.

With the arrival of November came northern China’s first snowfall of the winter. On the morning of the 1st, I stood at the windows and noticed it was especially dark and figured it would rain at any moment. Twenty minutes later I checked the windows again and saw tons of sleet coming down. Not long after that, the snow started to fall and gather in the tiny courtyards of my apartment complex and in the gardens next door. For most Tianjins this was probably more of a nuisance than anything else, especially since no one was expecting snow until the end of this month, but for a Floridian it was a pretty amazing sight.

I bundled up and walked to work in the snow. Luckily, it was just a light shower and melted almost the instant it hit the concrete. But it gathered very nicely on the partitions of grass and planted trees and flowers. It seemed to cover random objects while missing others entirely. Many cars had a thick powder on their roofs, while at the same time, the sidewalks and parking poles retained nothing but wet traces. Back in New Zealand, whenever I imagined it snowing in Tianjin all I could picture was this black and brown sludge piled up in the gutters. So it was quite a treat to see the Nankai district unexpectedly decorated in a beautiful white dust that made everything sparkle.

The following day was brilliant! Sunny, and so clear I almost forgot I was in an industrial port city. Roland and I took this opportunity to take a long walk in the park so we could take photos of whatever might be left of the snow, and surprisingly, there was still a bit sitting in the grass and plants. I did some various city sightseeing in the afternoon, with two of my lovely Chinese co-workers escorting me. They took me to “Culture Street”, which apparently has a history dating as far back as the city itself. Here the shops sit in buildings fashioned in the traditional Chinese style: brightly painted wood with gold-trim and elaborate carvings. Since traditional Chinese architecture is made of organic material (wood and plant-based pigments), specialized craftsmen who learned the secret trade of restoration from their fathers and grandfathers would have to perform multiple small repairs as parts of the structure rotted or as the paint faded. This means that a traditional Chinese building dating back several hundred years may not have a single splinter of it’s original wood or even one layer of it’s original paint, but still looks exactly the same as it did when it was first built. (For further info on this topic, request a copy of Jen’s thesis).

Culture Street is Tianjin’s mecca of “cultural junk and bric-a-brac”, as one might imagine. This is where foreigners come to buy expensive jade bracelets, freshly painted calligraphy scrolls, opium pipes, and Mao handbags. Astonishingly, I was the only foreigner in vicinity, and even more amazing was the fact that only a few shopkeepers yelled out “hello” to me in an attempt to entice me into buying their merchandise. Things aren’t nearly this laid back in Beijing. I noticed a few tour groups (i.e. hoards of people in matching yellow hats) but they were all Chinese—my guess is that they came from Beijing or Qingdao, or perhaps even the suburbs surrounding the city.

In other news, CCTV 9 has been boasting hourly that the country is expected to hit or even go beyond the 10% mark for economic growth in its 4th quarter. While there seems to be no shortage of the same tedious jobs I noticed back in 2006 (i.e. peacock herder, rock polisher, water sweeper) the news stations here claim that millions of migrant workers have been denied steady work in the cities this year. This means construction and development must be slowing down to some degree; take away the pressure of the Olympic games and things return to a normal pace. Then again, what is a “normal” pace for a nation where skyscrapers are built in a fraction of the time it takes Pasco County to add a new lane to a medium sized road?

Took lots of photos since we arrived. Here's the link:

http://picasaweb.google.com/rollie.lomas/Tianjin

Enjoy!

We arrived in Tianjin exactly one week ago. While the city itself is closely comparable to Beijing, some of the feelings I’ve experienced since arriving are not. But that was a different time, with different circumstances and I was most definitely a different person. The sense of wonder is not as overwhelming as it was last time, and for some reason I find myself easily annoyed and frustrated with the Chinese hustle and bustle. However, these are completely emotional reactions that are likely to fade once settled in. It’s amazing how strongly jet-lag and caffeine withdrawal can effect one’s general disposition!

Thankfully I feel as comfortable as can be expected in the new school where I am teaching. So far, the week has been full of shadowing classes and assisting other teachers. Paul, the Canadian gentleman who has been acting as the temporary lead foreign teacher, has turned out to be quite a fun character. He’s spent lots of time helping Roland and I to adjust: showing us around other parts of the city, introducing us to teachers at the main school, and simply providing good company and philosophical discussion. That’s what I love most about expats: they’ve always got exciting things on their minds.

Paul’s genuine personality translates very well in the classroom. He’s a big hit with the students and their parents, leaving me a large pair of shoes to fill. The school, which is completely managed by the Chinese, has only just started to worry about how to break the news of Paul’s departure to the clients. While I’m not surprised at all, I am concerned that this will all reflect poorly on me in some way. Chinese don’t like change, and the first thing parents will want to know is “why is Paul leaving and who is this new teacher?”
I teach my first demonstration class on Friday evening and I have serious doubts that it will go over well. This isn’t just teaching a classroom full of kids—this is teaching a classroom full of kids, along with their parents, who have never been to the school before. It’s completely promotional, and whether the parents decide to enroll their child in the school relies heavily on my performance. So, for someone who has absolutely no experience teaching English as a foreign language, it’s quite a daunting situation.

Luckily, amongst all this settling in and getting work sorted, Roland seems to have taken to Tianjin quite well. He’s not afraid to venture out and do all the things one needs to do in order to get by. He’s been grocery shopping and can order food for himself at a restaurant. Admittedly, he’s a bit surprised at how much we get gawked at in the street, but other than that, he has no complaints about his new home. I truly enjoy his eagerness to learn more about the culture and the language—hopefully it doesn’t burn out. I have a feeling that there will be many times where I threaten to pack my bags and head back to New Zealand, so I’m relying on him to give me the proverbial “slap” when needed.

the action starts in just over a week--stay tuned.