Grow Blog

A couple things have gone brilliantly well recently here in Wuhan.  My capable assistants gathered more than 200 sketchmaps for my research project in little more than a week; I was allowed to keep score at last week’s badminton game; and we have successfully armed and deployed chemical weapons against night-time mosquitoes.

Not all is wine and roses though.  Our new houseguest missed her connection in Beijing, making her a half day late to arrive in Wuhan.  Not a big deal, our hosts rescheduled the airport pickup with only a couple text messages to clear up things lost in translation.  But unfortunately on the way to campus from the airport (a trip that takes 90 minutes with traffic) we had an unfortunate merge in a construction zone and a cement truck decided to kiss our car.  Poor Mr. Qiu!  At certain points during the ensuing hilarity he looked like he would cry.  But the worst never came.  No crowd gathered.  The policeman did not stick his head in the car.  I had some indication that things would be alright when the cement truck driver’s boss arrived and he beckoned Mr. Qiu slightly offstage (Ms Chimene and I did not leave the back seat of the car) by calling him 大哥 (big brother).  It sounded sincere rather than solicitous, so I had a feeling everything would be ok.

The police arrived; the mixer was disengaged from my door; the safety glass remained intact (of all the days to go outside in my sandals for the first time!); and we headed off towards campus.  And Mr. Qiu only smoked about 8 cigarettes during that 90 minutes.

Ms. Chimene is taking all things Chinese in stride, although I was a little saddened today when her arrival at my office was delayed because she doubted that I actually worked in that abandoned looking building.

Abandoned?  Really?  Of course, now that the surrounding gardens have been bulldozed, perhaps things look a bit more desolate.

In recent weeks all of the terrain around the building has been transformed–in such a complete and striking way that I wish I had documented things a bit more carefully.  Apparently the mountain in back of the building was construction debris from two nearby new buildings.  Now a third is being started and they seem to have decided that the rest of the area near the gate was ready to be graded.  So huts were removed, gardens flattened, and the hill has been reshaped–stone wall and all.  Trees have been planted on its side and things look like that have now stabilized for at least a while.

One I make repeatedly, in many varied situations, is overextending myself.  Overscheduling, overcommiting, and overestimating just how much I can get done in a day, week, month.

That said, there are certain parts of the China experience that are amazing:  data has been gathered far more quickly than I ever though possible; L is diving into her Chinese class with relish; I have found a couple students with whom I have really connected; and day-to-day life is, if not comfortable, at least manageable.

But I over-committed to signing on for 3 hours of private tutoring a week.  The number of new words each time was grueling and with everything else happening day-to-day, there just wasn’t time to learn and practice the words.  With our time now more than halfway over (and 2.5 weeks since the last post!), I figured I really, really needed to re-evaluate how we will be spending our time.

And time is limited.  I can’t be productive 20 hours a day anymore.  My aging joints need to be stretched and my brain simply needs to chew on processes a bit harder.  If I don’t make the time, things fall apart.  The back hurts.  The brain hurts. And so sit-ups and dangling must happen every evening.  And long about 10pm I start to care only about staring at Facebook, listening to a Chinese soap opera, sneaking onto Netflix to watch South Park, or reading a book.  And that’s ok.

The dangle.  I can’t believe how much it helps my back.  ‘Go out in the park and hang from a bar,’ was the chiropractor’s advice and it seems to work.  It also introduces some interesting conversational opportunities near the soccer field.  Another thing that is helping is a weekly massage.  I almost wonder if twice a week would be better.  It’s not always great (last week’s was actually disappointing) but L has found her favorite therapist so I may continue to search for mine.  One was quite painful but the aftereffect was great.  He seemed to know exactly my problem and worked and worked at making my bottom few vertebra sit farther apart from each other.  L is in love with #12.  She is patient, brings her English dictionary, and does exactly as L wishes–which is work on neck alignment.  For $8, we really can’t go wrong.

I finally got to play tennis two  weekends ago.  The partner was actually a research subject.  He had a racket, I asked if he played, and the next thing I knew we were exchanging numbers.  It was awkward at first, but we got into a little rhythm and eventually wound up playing a little mini-set.  It was so awesome that it inspired me to finally go hang up a sign on the court seeking more partners.  While there someone handed me a racket and I wound up hitting (really really poorly) for a few minutes despite wearing jeans and hiking shoes and exchanging further phone numbers.  Haven’t gotten any responses to the sign yet, and neither partner has called for further play, but there is hope.

The only other big event is that our 老鼠 returned (or perhaps it was the daddy of the one we poisoned) and was spotted briefly.  He/she seems to be entering under the bathtub.  And with the warming weather we now have mosquitoes.  A net is probably in order, but we have started with two devices that get plugged into the wall and release some sort of poison into the air.  One is a little bottle that looks like a Glade liquid air-freshener device.  The other heats a small chip.  This latter one my TA told me isn’t very good for us, but I can’t imagine that either one is.  Still–is rubbing DEET on our skin before bed good for us?  Yesterday morning:  Multiple forehead bites.  This morning:  none.  This wasn’t exactly a scientific experiment, as the windows were in a different configuration each night ( yes we have screens, but they are rather pitiful.  Last night we were closed up with the A/C on).  But there is empirical evidence that the Glade does something: in the hour we ran it before going to bed the comforter became covered in the dead and dying that had been hovering near the ceiling.

So here is a post.  And hopefully others will come.  But, I’m afraid the whirlwind might return quickly as I start to make travel plans and we are about to receive another houseguest.   But: with one class now complete (well, the teaching part anyway.  I still have a set of papers to grade, with two more on their way) I have fewer lectures to prepare each week.  That is a huge relief.

Why do I need all this relief you ask?  Because everything takes a long time here.  We walk everywhere and our apartment is on an end of campus that’s not too near anything.  We can take a cab or bus, but with traffic typically at a near stand-still, it is often preferable to spend the half hour walking to Frenchy town for groceries.  Said traffic makes just about any trip a half-day affair.

In addition to travel time, there is the Chinese propensity (warning:  large paint brush approaching) to not make plans ahead of time.  This creates some friction with my desire to know what’s going to be happening on a day-to-day basis.  I’m not the only person to point this out, and it is not just an American thing.  A Chinese friend said to me not too long ago when I noticed many empty rooms in a brand new building:  “You know, we really aren’t very good at planning.”  This extends to daily life as well. At some point in the next two weeks my guest will give a lecture.  We’re not sure when though.  Sometime next month I will be giving lectures in Tianjin and Xi’an.  But again:  not sure when nor on what topic.  I spoke with the Embassy librarian today and she confirms that events frequently are not scheduled until just a few days before and are regularly canceled at the last minute.  I’m just glad that internal travel is cheap and there is no large penalty for buying late.

If ubiquitous access to cellphones means that appointments with friends and business associates can be more fluid and exact meeting points are becoming flexible (see Kwan 2007), the Chinese have mastered living lives without fixed calendars.

Except for nap time.  Don’t mess with nap time.  Don’t dare suggest meeting at 1, 1:30, or even 2.  2pm is the time to rub your eyes and figure out how you are going to spend the rest of your day.  There is always a chance your boss will invite you to a formal banquet.  Or perhaps there will be a concert to attend.  Or maybe, just maybe, you should go buy your train ticket and make a hotel reservation because this weekend is a holiday.

I actually started this by hand two weekends ago, but never got around to typing it up. Now it’s halfway through week 6 and I’m just getting to putting it together. Lunch with the Smiths over this past weekend reassured me that the teaching is going fine and I am being far too hard on my self. Barrister Smith is also teaching new material, and going out on a limb into a new area and using a new text. Both of us are rapidly adjusting to changing circumstances—different levels of students than we are used to, an educational system that is about as different as can be, all with students not speaking their mother tongues.

All this said, I remain fairly obsessed with my performance in the classroom, and it occupies nearly every waking moment. The only distractions seem to be eating and going out for group activities. My standard solo wandering only gives me time to think about the classes even more.

There are some takeaway lessons for the future. I should maintain a stable of current ppts that are a summary of all my previous work. Some of my older examples need updating, even if the content is primarily the same. (I’ve already recycled content from my thesis research and a 2004 ASIST presentation while here. But they suffered from a lack of current examples.) This includes old BIs. It would be far easier to prepare for a class on the fly if I kept materials current. Another lesson is that every lecture should be outlined in detail before the term starts. Once you get on the ground, there’s simply too many changes and adjustments to be made on the fly to be working on new lectures. For example: I thought I had picked out decent readings for the whole quarter, but they were far too difficult for my students, so I had to pretty much start over with reading selection once the term started.

Of course, I could only be so prepared for this environment. I didn’t know what the class schedule was going to be until just a couple weeks before getting on the plane. And our first two weeks we spent troubleshooting our living conditions.

My class has, in some ways, become a writing class. I’m diving deeply into an American style of class—reading response papers. Because everyone is a language learner, I have offered to read drafts before they are due. I put a lot of effort into copyediting drafts of papers and giving feedback on writing. I am a total ogre on my students when they simply spit back information that I gave them in class (although I do praise them for paying attention). If I had a kuai for every time I’ve said ‘less summary, more analysis,’ I’d have a whole bunch of kuai. Sometimes I’ve even been tempted to threaten the students like one of my high school English teachers. Jack used to say that certain common mistakes made him go on the rag and bleed red ink all over this students’ papers. But that was in a boys school and it would be really inappropriate in a class that’s 80% female.

Besides–I use a blue pen.

I often feel like I’d be in a better position to threaten if I was better prepared for classes. The thing about Jack’s classes was that he had taught them dozens of times previously. I’m winging it. All this said, I am standing pretty firm on boundaries. Deadlines are deadlines. Plagiarism isn’t tolerated. Footnotes, no matter the style, need to be complete.

Today is halfway through week 6, and although I am feeling a little overextended (first official Chinese lesson tonight) it’s not classes that are making me feel that way right now. This evening I took my first official Chinese lesson, we have a houseguest arriving Friday morning, and data-gathering for my research project starts just as soon as the protocol is approved. That’s three major tasks on top of the normal obligations. So much for a restful sabbatical.

All these things (except for the houseguest of course—I am totally looking forward to him) feel like they are too little, too late. The time that prepping for teaching takes is gets in the way of all the other potential Fulbright activities. Teaching feels like it gets in the way of everything. I think I’ve already fulfilled the 80/20 requirement of my grant. I’m a little unsure about blogging these insecurities. It might be a bad idea, as I know some of my students have found the blog (it’s not hard to find). But the chats I’ve had with people have really helped, so I share these thoughts in thanks for those who have shared their China struggles with me moreso than for my typical loyal reader (hi mom!).

One thing that has been really nice is to have this structured time to think about library services, what it means to be a librarian, and how libraries fit into the larger scheme of things. The anxiety that I and some of my peers feel about the state of the universe is shared by my undergraduates, except that their anxiety is of a different flavor. They don’t see the use of the field (‘we find everything with Google!’), and are terrified of finding jobs. I’ve already got my job, but I often wonder if I am the last generation of a dying breed, or the first generation of something completely different. That, of course, is a post of its own.

I have no idea.  But today felt a bit more like it’s supposed to.

Granted, I had to schedule ’special’ office hours in order to be present to hand back papers.  Silly Jon has decided that he will make his students write and write and write.  Therefore I feel this Catholic-guilt need to return papers promptly.  My Global Perspectives on LIS students handed in their ‘practice’ papers last week (describe your earliest memory of a library, the information resources you use in your everyday lives, and an ideal system that would make your life more interesting and fun. 2 pages) and their first ‘analytical’ papers are due next Tuesday.  Therefore, in all fairness I believe, they needed feedback on their writing before they tackle a graded assignment.

So this morning I took a rusty, but warm, shower, took the campus shuttle bus down to the gate, and ensconced myself in the UpMarket building’s bakery.  A fellow customer commented on my CA id sticking out of my wallet and we all smiled as I had to make the barista repeat the total three times.  With a latte and a sweet ham roll I copyedited three papers, then walked across the street to SIM.

Another paper, then I set up my geographer assistant with her human subjects training account.  She stopped by and we talked about her project and she handed me my survey instrument all nicely translated into Chinese!  I should be able to start gathering data in about ten days.

She left and I continued on with the proofreading until I couldn’t stop shivering.  Still stinging from the failures of the past few days I grabbed KFC for lunch and then a decaf latte at Starbucks (I know, I know–but I’ve been too edgy and the coffee at the bakery really isn’t all that good).  I left with 5 papers to go. On the way out I picked up a small gift of candy for the lady I lost my temper with last night.

On the way back to campus I added 50 kuai to my phone (I’ve frankly been amazed it didn’t die on me this week).  A second amazing part of this transaction:  Completely in Chinese!

Me:  In this place, can I buy minutes?

Him:  I do it online. OK? (ok.)  Give me your phone number.

I write it and say it out loud.  No mistakes.  He types it into his browser window, says ‘Right or wrong?’  I check it.  He hits submit.  Then says:  “Wait a few minutes.”

I browse the cellphones, mousepads, cigarettes, and keyboards.  Buy a bottle of iced tea.  Watch the cigarette seller (this 100 sq foot shop has two people:  one for the tech side, one for the snacks and smokes side) toss garbage into the street and see it get swept up two minutes later.  I fiddle with my phone.  Walk back in.

Him:  Still no?

Me:  没有。

ring ring.

Me:  有。

Him:  Sorry that took so long.  I’m embarrassed.

Me:  No worries.

(And that ladies and gentlemen, is about 80% of my conversational Chinese.)

Professor told me not to worry about complaining about the blackout.  I sit lonely in my office for 45 minutes, and then a steady parade of students stopped by to pick up their papers.  About 2/3rds came for them.  I’d say that was worth the effort.

Home for dinner in our downstairs restaurant and an evening of reading up on my fellow Fulbrighters (and just a little touch of class prep).

AND:  I actually did a little Chinese studying  Practicing my weather words.