Thanksgiving in Shenzhen

     The highlight of our Thanksgiving was Terry and I each hearing words of gratitude from Chinese people, who knew this was an American holiday.  What a refreshing approach to this holiday:  saying thank you to someone for what you appreciate about them.    One of the young associates in Terry's office sent him a special email for Thanksgiving:  "I would like to thank you for all your self-giving sharing of your knowledge and experience. You are really a good teacher!! ~_~ Thank you so much."  This afternoon when I saw a Chinese friend, she said, "This is Thanksgiving.  I want to say thank you because I'm glad you are my friend.  So...are you going to a party tonight?"

     No, sorry to say that the Thanksgiving celebration in our household was a little lame!  It didn't seem like a holiday, since it was a work and school day as usual here.  We've always celebrated Thanksgiving with extended family, so that part was missing completely.  And 70º temps and palm trees don't exactly bring on thoughts of "Over the river and through the woods..."

     I did, however, make a special trip after school down Wanghai Road to the expat butcher shop to get some chicken for our dinner.  While there, I spotted three turkeys in the freezer case, two Jennie-O and one Norbest.  How about that?  Minnesota turkeys made it all the way to Shenzhen, China, for around $3/lb.

     We had a package of stuffing, dried cranberries and a can of pureed pumpkin stashed in our pantry after 

Terry's trip home in October.  Thanksgiving dinner tonight was stuffing with cranberries and braised chicken, baked sweet potatoes, baby bok choy with oyster sauce, and pumpkin custard for dessert.  Pretty good, all considering, I thought.  "Not the same," Leah lamented.  No, indeed.  It's the grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles around the groaning board, more than what's on the board, that's most missed.
     But none of us spent much time dwelling on that today.  We are feeling very grateful for the many kindnesses and opportunities that we're experiencing in China and for all the support from family and friends back in the U.S.  

A Few Novelties

     "Hey, this feels normal," I thought to myself on the way to school one morning last week.  I was making my way down the wide sidewalk next to Wanghai Road, the thoroughfare a few blocks from our apartment.  My brain has cubby holes now for the fishy smells from the harbor, the dips and bumps underneath my bike wheels, the warning beep-beeps from electric scooters fast approaching from behind, even a few familiar faces.  I was aware of the absence of the slightly tired and sick feeling I often have after breakfast when traveling in new place.  It's great to feel settled and comfortable.

     The downside, of course, is now that I've developed routines and so many things around me seem familiar, I miss the daily discoveries that come with being in a new place.  Yesterday, though, I came across a few novelties.

     The first was on the ground outside the apartment building behind us.  A massive white sofa wrapped in plastic was in a rope sling, the ropes hanging down from the 20th floor or so.  A few of the uniformed security guys were busy getting this monster ready to hoist way up into some newly redecorated living room.  I was cringing, thinking of accidents, insurance, liability.  Being a single family home dweller most of my life, I'm naive as to how such a furniture logistics problem might be solved at home...somehow I don't think it would be quite like this.   A boy ambles onto the scene and also stops to watch.  I start a conversation with him.  He says he watched something similar last year, but that time the sofa crashed into a balcony, the glass sliced the rope, and the sofa fell to the ground.  Hmmm, sounds improbable, but this seems like an interesting kid.  I ask his name and find out that he's a 5th grader at the middle school where I've done some subbing.  I tell him this and Addy says he thinks he remembers seeing me around.  Then I ask him if he knows Shrumi who lives in building 2.  Yes, he does, she's in 12C, he says.  I thought he might.  Shrumi is a friend who moved here around the same time we did, and she's a master networker.  She told me early on that she's met about 15 other families from India in our area of the city, and they get together to celebrate holidays.  So Addy's family must be among those 15.   It's fun to start weaving my own web of connections, each new connection a novelty built on the familiar.  

     I couldn't stay and watch the sofa on ropes drama, since I was on my way to Green Shoots for Saturday morning English classes.   Later during the class break, I walked up to chat with one of the high school English tutors, who's a senior in the IB program with Leah.  The first thing the tutor said to me was, "Do you know where I can get some liver from a chicken and from a cow?"  That's a first, I thought, me the American with comparatively narrow tastes  being asked this question by a Cantonese person; the Cantonese are known for the wide variety of plants and animals and animals parts that they eat.  Since our family doesn't employ an ayi like many expats here--that's a housekeeper who often does the shopping and cooking--I'm rather familiar with the nearby supermarkets, and I actually did have a couple suggestions for her.  I asked what she needed the liver for.  A biology experiment, she said.  She was interested in following up on an experiment they'd done with liver in class.  I asked if she's thinking of studying biology in college.  Yes, I want to study food science and then hotel and restaurant management, she said.  It seems as if I've recently heard an unusual number of Chinese young people express an interest in that field.  

     

On my way home from Green Shoots, I decided to avoid some congested traffic and made a turn down a street that I haven't been on for awhile.  About 5 blocks from our apartment I came across this scene, all new since my last pass on this street.  This may not look very exciting to you, but it's the most exciting thing I've come across all week.  It's a subway entrance!  At last!  I've been reading since we arrived here that the new subway line out to our area of the city is supposed to be finished by the end of 2010, and I've been wondering exactly where the nearest stop would be.  Within another year this line is supposed to extend all the way out to the airport. 

     Shenzhen is one of at least 15 cities in China that are building or expanding subway lines right now.  The Chinese government has been encouraging spending on infrastructure to help make up for decreased exports to western countries afflicted with sluggish economies.  One western economy seems to be benefitting from this construction trend more than others:  Germany's. A German company makes the tunneling equipment often used for subway construction, for example.

Here's the last of yesterday's novelties:  durian.  I've been reading for years about this Asian fruit, known to many westerners for its supposedly pungent, repulsive smell--and to many Asians for its heavenly scent and taste.  I see whole ones often in the grocery stores.  They look sort of like green, spiny footballs.  Usually next to the whole ones there are packages with just a few pieces wrapped up.  I've never tried durian, so yesterday I decided to buy a small package.  Terry was not so very pleased about this purchase.  He's eaten this fruit, and although he doesn't mind the smell and taste, it's not a favorite.  He insisted that I put the tray out on the balcony, since the smell is supposed to quickly permeate everything around it, even if it's well-wrapped, and Leah was expecting some friends to come over.  After sampling it, I have to say that I don't understand what all the fuss is about.  I thought it tasted like fibery,  deeply musky banana.  The surprising part was the mouth feel from the fat in the fruit.  The smell was not objectionable to me.  In fact, I didn't think it had much smell at all.   Terry said this particular durian was past its prime, since it's supposed to have a custardy interior.  I've read that the older the durian is, the more objectionable the smell and taste.  So, assuming I can pick out less aged durian, my next sample can only be better!  

     

     

School in a Shopping Mall

When I walked into this school building  last month to drop off my paperwork for substitute teaching, I wondered what kind of swanky international school had escalators instead of stairs, a huge foyer with stylish lighting and several sets of matching upholstered furniture, and a veneered snack bar just like you'd see in an upscale mall.  I later found out that it was originally a shopping mall.  After the mall failed a few years ago, the school bought the building, did some remodeling, and moved their secondary campus here.

     If you were to continue along the sidewalk on the lower right side of the photo, you'd walk past about 5 blocks of businesses catering mostly to expats and well-off Chinese, everything from spas to pet shops to apartment rental agencies.  Several of these have closed within the few months that we've been here. Almost immediately workmen have shown up to begin overhauling the space for a new venture--but there are no transformations as dramatic as the shopping mall-to-school.
     This school was founded 20-some years ago by oil companies for American employees' families.  Right now there are 230 middle and high school students enrolled here, hardly any of them American.  The majority are from South Korea.  It's by far the most expensive American international school in our part of the city:  annual tuition is $22-23K for secondary students.
     Late last Sunday night I got a call from a secretary at this school, asking if I could be there at 8:00 the next morning to sub for a math teacher who'd just called in sick.  Since there are so few students at this school and there's a list of 20 substitutes, I felt fortunate to finally get a foot in the door.  I felt really fortunate to end up working there every day last week, and to get asked back for 4 days this coming week.
     As is the case at the middle school where I've substituted here, working at this school is very different from working in the urban public schools at home.  The atmosphere is...pleasant.  It's bustling, it's serious, but absent is the pervasive tension and exhaustion that come from teachers and staff working so hard to educate so many kids, many of whom are dealing with challenging circumstances of one kind or another.  Not that some of these kids don't have their own challenges, one of which is extreme pressure to be the best.  Another difference is in the daily schedule.  Just as at Leah's school, students here have 4 classes a day, each 80-90 minutes long, and they go to each class every other day.  Teachers see 35-45 students a day at most.  High school students each have their own laptop they bring to each class, purchased on a rent-to-own plan through the school, and they're required to use them often, both to access curriculum and to deliver their daily work and projects.   In addition, students can use their laptops to take a wide variety of Virtual High School classes that a small school like this can't offer.  Seniors at this school who need to take Calculus 2 would take it as a VHS class, for example.  One other difference is that the students were respectful and friendly toward me from the first day.  I'm used to having to work for awhile with a group of students to earn that.
 


      

Saturday Out and About

I took a new route this morning to Yucai Elementary School for the Saturday morning English class.  Last week I rode in the rain to and from the school, so today's sunny weather seemed particularly beautiful, as did the trees on this street.  Nanshan Mountain is in the distance.    Checking behind me as I stood by the curb, I realized that a car had approached, stopped and was patiently waiting for me to get  moving so it could claim the parking space where I was standing.  How delightful not to get honked at, I thought.  Probably because I'm considered elderly and feeble, though.  Not so delightful.

The young man in the white polo is Jersey, a school friend one of the English tutor organizers.  He came to perform card tricks for the 6th graders during the last half-hour of class today--he was good!  The boys were a particularly enthusiastic audience.  I asked Jersey where he learned his tricks.  The first few he got from the internet, he said.  Then he met some other guys who also did tricks and they taught each other.  I should have asked him where he got his name.  He did  mention that he was born in New York City and that his parents came back to China when he was a few months old.

On the way home right outside a supermarket were these fellows selling fresh sugarcane today.  The couple on the right carefully selected two canes.  The vendors then made short work of peeling it, whacking it into foot-long sticks, and bagging it up.  I see fresh sugarcane for sale often and I suppose I really should give it a try, but the idea of eating a stick of sugar, even if it's fresh,  doesn't appeal to me very much.

That's rice for sale in the big bin at the left.

The group of ten marching in formation (sort of) and shouting responses to their "commander" at the left I think are security personnel for the apartment complex next to ours.  I'm not sure if they were doing coming-on-duty warm-ups or if they're in training.  I smiled when several little kids and the dog, some pictured here, chased after them and began running between the two rows, messing up the marchers' attempt to look serious.

The pink and white structure in the background is a commercial building on the fishing harbor.

Late this afternoon the fishing boats in the harbor a few minutes' walk from our apartment building were anchored in threesies and foursies.  I was wondering if they did this just to be congenial and to talk fishing business, after working alone all day.  Later I watched a few fishermen that pulled up closer to the shore.  They weren't talking, they were busy pulling fish and critters out of the nets.  My next theory was that they organize their boats into these side-by-side parking groups to leave pathways open for boats that need to move.

Hangman and I Spy with the Yucai Kids

  
"Sports" was the topic during the first half of the Green Shoots Academy English class this morning at Yucai Elementary School.  Andrew, one of the co-leaders, had a paper and pencil vocabulary handout all ready for the 6th graders to do first thing in their small groups.  One of the high school tutors came up with the hangman idea on the fly, as a way to continue going over sports words after her group had sped through the handout.  That's Andrew up at the blackboard, and tutors CT and Jillian standing to the right.  Andrew and CT are in Leah's senior class at school.
     When Leah saw Jillian in my photos this afternoon she said, "Oh, that's the freshman girl who rides to school with me in the morning."  Leah had never mentioned her name before.  She'd said early on that they didn't really talk, given the age difference.  (This is hard for me to understand, but there's so much that I, mere parent, do not understand.)  The expat rental agency that helped us find our apartment also helped us link into a private taxi arrangement that takes the two girls to school every morning.  Because two girls split the cost, it's slightly less than a regular taxi, which can be hard to find at 8 a.m.
     Notice the pink desks.  I wonder if this color has a calming effect on the students who use the room during the week!

After Hangman, the students stepped outside the classroom to play I Spy, as in, "I spy with my little eye something that is...red!"  Then they would take turns trying to guess which red object the spy-er had in mind.  I was surprised how long both the Hangman and I Spy games held their attention.  Maybe they play fewer video games and watch fewer TV shows than American kids.  Aren't these students a precious bunch?

We take a 10-minute break in the middle of the two-hour Green Shoots class.  These three girls had fun drawing on the board during break time.  The girl in the middle, whose English name is Kelly, seems to be be an anime fan.  I noticed her doing anime doodles at her desk, and she's signed at least one of the board drawings.
     What's my role during this Saturday morning English class for the 6th graders?  Andrew asked if I'd supervise the Green Shoots high school tutors, who are logging community service hours.  Today there were seven tutors, all of them from the American international school that Leah goes to.  It's impressive to see these high schoolers own the Green Shoots program.  They meet mid-week during lunch at school to plan out the activities for the upcoming Saturday class, and then Andrew emails me the plan and asks for input.  During the class, I circulate around the two rooms where the tutors cluster with their small groups, listening in and helping out if I'm needed.  So today, for example, one of the tutors had brought an English picture book to read to her group during the second half of class.  She asked for my help explaining the meaning of a few words from the book like "sturdy" and "cozy".  All of the tutors have excellent English skills, but only one of them is from the U.S.--and he's mostly lived in Bali since he was four years old.  The other tutors are from China, South Korea, Germany and Iceland.

Thoughts about Supporting a Rural Chinese School

     One morning at school this week I had to wait a few minutes for the principal to come by and give me the details for my subbing assignment that day.  I stepped outside the empty administrators' office and passed the time looking at a display in the hallway about a charity project that the school has been supporting in a province west of here.  School families  have been encouraged to donate money to support a small rural school there.

     Great idea, I thought.  I'd like to donate to this effort.  I can't think of a better way to promote a more civilized world than through educating young children, especially those who live in poverty.  I also like the idea of the privileged families at this private school in Shenzhen sharing their good fortune with some students who need help. 

     Later I began thinking about this charity project in light of what I'm reading in Out of Mao's Shadow:  The Struggle for the Soul of a New China.  The author, Philip Pan, is a foreign correspondent for the Washington Post who based this 2008 book on seven years of research throughout China. There has been political progress since Mao's demise, but the one-party state remains firmly in place.  Pan asserts that the party's unchecked power has created opportunities for greedy, corrupt bureaucrats to continue to inflict misery on people, especially in rural areas.  He writes that party policy has favored the development of industry and urban areas over rural agricultural areas where the majority of Chinese live. In particular, rural people have been taxed at significantly higher rates than urban Chinese.  Furthermore, some rural officials have gotten away with arbitrarily raising taxes and fees to increase their own salaries and benefits, while spending next to nothing on local public services, including schools.  

     I wondered if this charity project exists because of money mismanagement by local Chinese officials.  Even if that's not the case, perhaps China could afford to fund its public schools more generously, especially in poor rural areas.  There seems to be plenty of money to lend to the U.S. to fund our overspending.  There's also been plenty of money to fund infrastructure for such projects as the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, the 2010 Expo in Shanghai, and the newly created Special Economic Zone of Kashgar on China's northwestern border.  It seems a shame that piecemeal charity projects do the job that government could and should do to educate the country's children.

     On the other hand, the U.S. pumps enormous sums into its public education system.  Yet a number of students fail to learn much in our American schools.  Money alone won't assure an education.  It takes desire and effort from  teachers, students and students' families/communities.  It seems a greater shame that the privilege of 13 years of free public education available to every young person in the U.S. does not inspire the desire and effort to make it happen.  

     The kids and teachers pictured outside their rural schools in the display by the school office would most likely be thrilled to have such a privilege.