Today they took the trees away

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-HAHAHAHAHAHAMLALAMBL-MABMLABMLABhahahahahaya-aaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyHAHAHAHAYaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-YAYYYYYYYYYYY-YAYYYYYyyyyyyyyyyyyyyYHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Or at least, thats what it sounds like. The kids.

Yesterday I volunteered to teach at a school for "migrant" children.

I showed up with 8 other college students. They split us up into three groups of 3 at the gates of the school, I followed a teacher to her class room, and without a moment to think, one of the most amazing hours of my life followed.

I walked in with a friend and a near stranger. The class of 60 fifth graders stood up at attention, music came over an invisible PA system and played a grandiose almost military-like marching song. They burst out into a round of applause - and the class was ours.

This was SHOCKING. I had no idea that this would happen, and I was rather stunned about what to do with a class of students, no concept of their expectations, my ability, or even what the intended goal was. I had signed up to teach English, but they didn't speak English, so "teaching" it, would be an interesting proposition.

As we briefly introduced ourselves (the three of us) in Chinese, I took the spare minute I had and raced after the girl who coordinated the program to learn our objective -- Ice-breaking.

This I know how to do. I'm a kid in a 20 year old's body, so Ice-breakers, are right up my alley. I quickly explained the idea of "The Human knot" to my two friends and the teacher. Basically a group of people gather in a circle and each person uses each of their two hands and pairs them up with other random hands in the pile. The result is a big mess. The objective is to untangle without breaking a link. We demonstrated for the class and they thought we were HYSTERICAL.

That lightened up the mood in a flash. If there is one thing to change 60 twelve year olds from obedient students to playful kids, its seeing three funny strangers and their authoritarian teacher wiggling around trying to untangle themselves from each other in front of an audience of children.

I couldn't help but smile wider than a piano as I explained in Chinese that they were next, taught them how to play, and asked for volunteers. I called on six of them, and set them lose. If the class had been raucous before, now they were simply falling over themselves in laughter -- seeing their classmates twist around in circles was even better.

I set it loose on the whole class. I divided the room into four corners, each with a "monitor", and waited to see what would happen. Apparently my demeanor attracted the more outgoing boys, and about 15 of them came over to twist themselves in a knot.

Their first attempt was one of the funniest moments of my life. The purpose of the game is to raise the highest pair of hands over the heads of the group and slowly untangle piece-by-piece. All subtly was lost on them, and in one giant "pop!" they tried to untangle everything while holding on. The result was rather disastrous and they all heaved inward and then outward before rubber-banding back in and collapsing on the floor.

I made smaller groups and re-taught the general principle, and they had things under control, so I went to check on the other small groups, before running down the hall to see if the other classrooms were faring any better.

I picked up the idea of "Simon says" from the other class room - and added a flair of my own competitive style. Again I divided the class into teams, and each team stood up in turn to play. The winner of each group (a 2-person tie in group 2) advanced to the "finals" held in the front of the classroom. This was a game that let us teach some English - using the hand signs for numbers as we said them, and pointing at body parts asking them to be repeated aloud to us.

The final was hysterical, the last two kids, a guy and a girl were REALLY good. They would do each command exactly in time, and then if we said "Raise your hand" -- their hands would shoot-down-to-their-side in a split second.

We let them both win (I'll have to bring some sort of prize when I go back), and then I was mostly out of ideas.

The teacher suggested that we separate into three groups and let them ask us questions about us. This too - was endless sources of amusement. They wanted to know why I was so tall, whether I put vinegar on my beef, why I grow facial hair, why my nose is big, and why I came to China. I told them and asked them if they want to go to America, if they like basketball, and what they want to be when they grow up.

We broke some major ice. I really was in a blissful state of happy. The kids were so trusting, so energetic, so pleased at the experience - I was too.

Today on my back street, more inexplicableness broke out. Today they took the trees away. They filled the street with huge trucks that chop trees into little bits. Then the thick tree branches lined the road. The wider and thinner branches covered the sidewalk, and as always, chaos ensued.

The hierarchy of vehicles is one of the most important laws of the land. Traffic rules are only suggestions in China, and the only rule that does hold is Trucks>Cars>Motorcycles>Bikes>Pedestrians. This determines who has the right of way, how fast you can go, and anything else of significance (it was fun not being on the bottom of the ladder when i had a bike). At any rate, now the cars only had one lane so the motorcycles (2-directions) crammed into the bike lane, the bikes zoomed over branches on the sidewalk, and the people sort of just tried to avoid getting hit.

God knows why they cut down all the trees? God know why anything happens here.

Goodnight.








*I'm planning on writing my "Capstone project" which is something of a mini-thesis on the effects that the Hukou system has on education in China. In short, the government monitors where people are born, and issues residency permits. Years ago one could only find a job where they were born, so those born in rural China were essentially barred from the city. Now, an underground market for physical labor and a government-supported market for intellectuals to find jobs in cities have emerged.

The problem for both groups, is that without a Hukou (the residency permit), the next generation is a set of skill-less "migrants" who aren't technically allowed to live in the city.

And so - the kids are forbidden from being schooled in the cities. Some schools that allow migrant children are shut down, and on the outskirts of towns, special "migrant schools" crop up to help provide primary education for those with out access to the regular system".

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-HAHAHAHAHAHAMLALAMBL-MABMLABMLABhahahahahaya-aaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyHAHAHAHAYaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay-HAHAHAHAHAMLALAMBL-MABMLABMLABhahahahahaya-aaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!....

2 months in

It has been an interesting almost two months. I think that two months is a pretty long time, but the past 60 days have been one of the longer sets that I can remember. I arrived in Beijing and played for a week, then I cowered in a hole and was scared and lonely for a week. I arrived in Shanghai and refused to immerse myself for a week. I stayed on the edges and didn’t really let myself put both feet on the ground. Since then, life has been … well, life has been full.

I’ve been very happy over all. Really happy. I think I am a little bit more confused that usual, I’m not always sure which way is up. For once now, I don’t mean that in the context of language confusion, but rather just in terms of feelings. The work load has been extremely difficult – that has been one of my biggest concerns. The Chinese classes are too hard for me, and I struggle to catch up to a point where I am merely behind. The process of avoiding Chinese work, and struggling with the work that I manage to do is one that is slightly upsetting, because I feel like it is something important to me, but I find frequent excuses to act on it.

I don’t want this to be a list of things I have done, I believe I want to write about my emotions. One emotion that makes at least a daily appearance is questioning my intelligence. In talking people who know me well, are close to me, and so important to me, I have learned that I am being hard on myself. I’ll try to take this advice into consideration, but for now I’m still going to put my feelings on “paper”.

Lately I have been critical of how I dedicate my time, both past and present. I think that for most of sophomore year I ignored academics, got lucky in a few places, and got both slightly lower grades and significantly less knowledge than I would like. This is, in retrospect a very small complaint to have – so much so that I would not be surprised to have some people with far larger problems roll their eyes repeatedly in my direction. For those folks, I know I’m splicing minor details, but most people worry about something.

I think the best way I can phrase my concern is that I want to be “legitimate”. I want to have tangible skills, and I am more worried than confident of my capabilities to acquire them. Learning Chinese for a practical setting often appears out of my reach. The lesson that I would take away from investing 5 semesters of Chinese courses, a summer in Hangzhou, and a semester in Shanghai for the sake of learning Chinese with out “succeeding” is one I don’t quite know yet.

It seems undeniable that my favorite way to spend time is to invest in the relationships I have with friends and family, and/or to do random acts of kindness for acquaintances and strangers. I don’t “dislike” this in me, don’t expect it to change, and don’t particularly want it to – but I do want to make sure it doesn’t come at the opportunity cost of me working on my goals of helping others on the scale of millions rather than dozens.

There is a lot that I have gained by being mostly alone. I don’t mind it, being alone – and it helps that the people in my program are more than welcoming to me. It seems that each and every day has at least a few people come to my room to invite me to join a group in some activity. In a near inverse of how I act in America, I usually say no 80% of the time. I miss the people I love back home. When I am not missing them, there is a lot of time for me to try and sort out what is important to me: what I want to learn, how I want to treat others, which things I think should be prioritized.

The students in this program are a WORLD different from those who I go to school with back home. Perhaps that is part of the experience of studying abroad. I cannot easily label people here. There have been some of the most self-less acts and some of the most shockingly insensitive ones. The nature of camaraderie, friendship, pettiness, and ignorance have all opened my eyes. I have learned a lot just by watching.

My experience so far has been an incredibly valuable one. I think I would like to find some answers, though I don’t feel that I am close to reaching any. It seems like the questions that are worth asking, whether they are about how to solve the financial crisis, how to learn a language, how to spend one’s life, how to treat despicable dictators, or how to respond to a situation with other people involved when you don’t have all of the information don’t have an answer that you can find “the” great solution that no one else has seen. Certainly this is nothing that everyone else doesn’t already know. Its tough, these are all my thought for now, but I don’t want to try and conclude them with a moral.



Note: If for some reason you would really like reading a blog I started offering economic analysis of events that happen in China - feel free to visit eastforthewest.blogspot.com I don't know how well it is written, but i would be happy to hear your thoughts.

Really people?

I just learned the word for "ultrasonic wave", as in "the ultrasonic wave permitted me to see the gender of the baby" the word in case you are curious is 超声波　pronounced (chao sheng bo) which actually sounds like (chow shung bwou). Its literal translation is "super sound ripple" or something to that effect.

I still don't know how to write words like "easy" at times, but at least now I can read and say "ultrasound wave", god knows I need to say that in English just about everyday.

Other vocab phrases (from today):
-Rack one's brains in scheming
-Be unable to make heads or tails of something
-Be filled with shocked wonder

These phrases are actually very useful, but masterfully hard to remember exactly how to say at the right moment. Given how I stutter along when I speak about more complex topics, it just is unlikely that I'll carry across the right inflection to say "Gee - I'm filled with shocked wonder" without it sounding like "I am fillllled shockkk ummm. ummm. that, what is it - oh! wonder!, right? right? filled wonder shock, filled with shocked wonder?"

I'll keep trying :)

A moment in time

Judaism is a story about humanity.

I am studying in Shanghai, China. A city that has stood witness to thousands of years. Dynasties have risen and fallen, leaders have prospered, citizens have despaired, foreign conquests have shifted boundaries time and time again. Now -- growth rages in the city, peasant farmers languish in the fields, and the world argues about international trade balances, debt, and who is to blame.

We must remember – Judaism, is a way to understand our place in time.

The Jewish people too, of course, have been around for thousands of years. The stories of Shanghai and Jerusalem are distinct but if we will open our eyes, they are closely intertwined.

Last night, I set out to attend Friday night services at the Jewish Center of Pudong in Shanghai, China. I took a taxi some 45 minutes through crowded streets before reaching a more or less desolate stretch of road. The driver had trouble locating the building, and I was confident I would be late, but equally calm that I would be warmly received.

After reaching the complex, a few inquires led me to the right building, and a woman at the desk told me she was unaware of any services that night. She encouraged me to go up the stairs to where services are usually held, and I eagerly wound up the spiral staircase only to find a cavern of darkness.

The room was set up to hold a service. The arc of wooden chairs facing a stage was unmistakable. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I set out in search of an Ark, a Torah, some Hebrew writing, anything to reassure me I was in the right place.

I didn’t find a tangible relic to confirm for me that I was in a synagogue, but I did find within me an overwhelming urge to pray.

Slowly, and utterly respectfully I walked up to the “Bema” and took in the semi-circular tall glass panes which gave me a glimpse of the world outside. Patrolling the streets were perhaps dozens of security guards, sweeping the area with flashlights, piercing the darkness in search of something amiss.

In the darkness, in the loneliness I felt for just one moment what it may have been like for Jews who were persecuted for so many years. I thought of how many dimly lit buildings were turned into temporary temples for small clusters of Jews to gather in hushed voices and affirm their commitment to God, to Judaism, to life.

Something moved me then and there, to a much deeper, much stronger voice than I have ever been able to command. I launched into a 15 minute rendition of L’cha Dodi.

As my voice echoed with a power that would bring chills to a passerby’s spine I belted the lyrics and the verses, one time, after another, after another.

I thought of Jews that lived in concentration camps, and I thought of Jews that lived under Pharaohs rule, I thought of the Jews whose names we do not know, of Jews around the world whose history, whose lives we may never know.

I stood broad shoulders and faced the world, and belted from deep within my gut, the Amidah. I sang about the God of our fathers, Abraham, Issac, and Jacob who many thousands of years ago had lives of their own.

Judaism is a story of time.

In 1949 China was swept by a revolution, its previous rulers were pushed out, a new wave were brought in. In 1948 our state of Israel was born.

We must remember, today is only a moment. We think of history, and we go back at most 60 years. The Jewish people have lived in every crevice of this Earth for thousands of years, and more importantly, today is not the end. Today is not the only moment for our people, there will be thousands of years more.

How rich is our history? How strong are our ties? There is reason for our holydays, there is a story behind our every moment. Every Jew in every service in every time sings testimony to mankind, to what we have been, to what we will be, hopefully if religion does its part, if we can manage, Judaism sings testimony to our commitment to become who we should be.

I stood and faced an open window and sang every song I have remembered since I memorized the Ashrey at the age of 9. I stood in that empty, holy building for hours and tears streamed down my face. My voice never failed me, but it warbled and wavered with the beauty of a story, of a history and of a chance so rich that I know I am blessed to have even a momentary awareness of my position in time.

Today is not the final moment, it is not the most difficult moment. It may not be the easiest moment, or the most rewarding, but it is our moment in time.

We are a part of a story. We are a people. We are a people that have endured so much more than high unemployment rates, we cannot even begin to imagine how much we so often forget. I am a Jew. We are Jewish. It is a beautiful thing.