Summer Reading, Part I

I read a lot this summer, though still not as much as I would have liked to, given the time that I had available. That said, I still think I have too many to put into one post. If you have one in your area, I highly recommend Half Price Books (which we stumbled upon in Ohio) for their excellent selection. Here's a brief rundown of books read in alphabetical order:

A Separate Peace
This was a gift from a very well-read friend. She gave it to me when I asked for something short, compelling, and not greatly taxing to read on the flight back. It's a beautifully written and thought-provoking coming-of-age story that deals with love, hate, war, and jealousy (even if you can guess the ending from about the fifth page onwards). It's something I'd like to give to a mature teen. Thanks for the recommendation, Alison.

The Bear and the Dragon
I had read a Tom Clancy book a long time ago and remembered enjoying it. Since this one was about China, I picked it up. I don't know if I had just forgotten about all of the objectionable stuff in the other book or if there was a lot more of it this time around, but I heaved it into a trash can after about two chapters. Now I'll never know if they meant to kill Golokov or not.

Beyond Suffering
Started on Dr. Talbert's (Uncle Layton to certain of us) study of Job entitled Beyond Suffering, and greatly enjoying it so far. I plan to finish this one up as my next reading project. If you haven't read his work on providence (Not By Chance) it's worth picking up. And I promise that's not just nepotism.

In Complete Armour
Still chipping away at William Gurnall's monolithic Puritan classic. I'm not quite "in comlete armour" yet; I'd say I only have about one glove on, though I think some of the credit for my slow progress has to go to Gurnall's exhaustiveness. At about page 200, I'm on the phrase "we wrestle not against flesh and blood." He's just spent 10 pages expounding on the word "wrestle." Although I certainly am finding it worthwhile, at my current rate I will finish it in approximately 2050.

The City of Light
I read an interesting book that I just stumbled across entitled The City of Light, which is apparently an account of a 13th-century Jewish Italian merchant's journey to the Chinese port city of Zaitun. I say "apparently" because there is some controversy about the genuineness of the manuscript, but the evidence for it being a fake is (in my mind) not at all convincing. Worth reading, especially for the shockingly modern philosophical perspectives that he encountered (and, in some cases, espoused). Truly, there's nothing new under the sun. If you do pick it up, skip chapter 5. I didn't, and wish I had.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
I'd read the first three Harry Potter books about five years ago in undergrad (got 'em from Mack Library, as a matter of fact), and since we were staying with a Harry Potter-crazed family during the time surrounding the release of the last book, I thought I might as well see what all the fuss was about, especially since I recalled enjoying the first three. The books were entertaining; I especially liked her characters (Hagrid, Luna, and Neville being my favourites). The weakest part of the books, in my humble opinion, is Harry himself. He generally comes off as a whiny, selfish, demanding teenager. An accurate portrayal of the modern teen mindset? I suppose. Fun to read? Not so much. He grows up quite a bit in the last book, thankfully. Overall, I could take them or leave them.

A History of Asia
I started in on volume one of Samuel Moffat's history, which was recommended by a professor in a history course I took. I'm liking it so far and looking forward especially to his discussions of the revival in the Tang dynasty and to the rapid modern expansion in South Korea.

In the Presence of My Enemies
I read Gracia Burnham's autobiography, which I recommend (if you don't remember her, she and her husband were kidnapped by terrorists in the Philippenes a few years ago). I remember her being given an honor during the commencement exercises in 2003 (a medal, if memory serves); her account of the time she spent in captivity is moving and prompted a healthy amount of introspection.

The Writings of John
Since I'm teaching through John, I decided to take my study time during this vacation to read all of the works of John over and over. His emphasis on love made a particular impact on me, and has formed the basis for some of our group discussions here already.

Dave

A retrospective

This morning I woke up in Shanghai. It's a nice feeling to be home and to have a semester of work ahead of you. Here's what I was doing in the US instead of posting on this blog:

Learning Chinese: Des and I are working on Pimsleur's Conversational Mandarin (thanks in part to the persuasion of our good friend Elijah Wilcott, who's probably in classes in Chengdu right now; he is sorely missed). It's a great audio program (I impressed our administrator Mr. Wang last night with a few phrases in Mandarin), but I feel like a total dope trying to make it come out right. When nearly all of your skillsets rely on your mastery of language, starting over again can be disheartening.

Reading: For this, I'll probably post something in greater detail next week. Suffice it to say that I enjoyed a great deal of reading during the vacation.

Playing: If you know me, you know that I like to play games. I gave Civilization IV: Beyond the Sword a thorough playing and loved every minute of conquering the Germans (and the Incans, and the Romans, and everyone else) right off of the planet. Benson Quattlebaum (my very oldest friend; we've been hanging out for like 22 years) and I made the world safe for democracy in Battlefield 2, and Adam Dierking (my great college buddy) and I defeated the alien menace in Unreal Tournament 2004. Carrie Sapp, Des, my sister Laura, and a bunch of Carrie's friends (including her mother) tested our kung-fu moves on one another and quested for treasure long into the night. The Snyder brothers and I combated terrorists at some arcade and tested our moves in DDR (at which venture I utterly triumphed). It was all grand. Games can definitely be fun by themselves, but games + friends = great.

Working: We had the unexpected opportunity to go up to Ohio and help my mother clear out my grandfather's house in order get his affairs in order and prepare his house for rental. Grandpa is living in Texas right now with my aunt, and he's no longer being treated for his cancer. Since my parents were in the US, he asked Mom to take care of things there in Ohio for him. The three of us (and my sister Laura later on) spent a week cleaning his house, organizing his belongings, and selling many of them in a giant garage sale. I reflected at length on the truth of Solomon's words when he says that it's better (when confronted with death) to go to a funderal than a party, since "that is the end of every man, and the living should take it to heart." I also decided that, from this point on, I am pursuing a minimum-stuff approach to life. Grandpa's house was crammed to the gills, mostly with stuff that wasn't worth saving, and I don't want anyone to have to try and organize all that on my behalf someday.

Visiting: I was particularly happy to be able to visit Mt. Calvary while we were in Greenville. There's nothing like old friends. While we were in the States, we were greatly impressed by the generosity of our friends and family in insisting on putting us up. I was reminded many times of what John recorded about love for others being the cardinal distinctive of our lives. We spent time staying with the inestimable Sapp family in Greenville, my wife's parents in the Chicago area, and our great friends the Snyders in Detroit. Since words cannot express how I feel about these people, I won't even try. These are the best of the "good things" that he fills my life with.

There's more, but this post is already too long. I'll probably write more about the vacation later. For now, I'm going to be trying to get things in order for my first semester teaching the sophomores. That's enough for me.

Dave

Those Who Can't: A Case Study

Before I came here, I thought of teaching as a simple and relaxing occupation, somewhat akin to professional mattress testing or food sampling. After all, a teacher had a comprehensive grasp of his or her subject, so the actual teaching part was simple: just go into the classroom and talk about whatever bit of knowledge strikes you as important. Unfortunately, this has not proved to be the case.

I had also been told that in Chinese culture, teachers are held in high regard and are treated with reverence and respect. I had visions of students clustering eagerly around me, pleading with me to dispense just one more gem from the English language. The textbook I was given only reinforced this delusion with such ridiculous propositions as “Have the students form themselves into small groups to discuss the environmental challenges facing the world today. Because of the specialized vocabulary, some students may be tempted to use some Chinese words. This should be discouraged.” I now suspect that the developers of the textbook created their exercises in a more rarified environment, such as the Garden of Eden.

What I did not envision was a classroom full of students who snoozed at every opportunity, text-messaged their pals, chatted with their classmates in Chinese, and shouted “Class is over!” at each lull and "This is so boring! We hate it!" at every new activity. Clearly, this was going to be somewhat more challenging than I had imagined.

Thankfully, things like that usually only happen on the bad days. I hustle out the door at ten to eight, clutching my briefcase and water bottle, the two non-negotiables of teaching. I drink a lot of water. The first thing I do when I leave the building is sweat; Shanghai is on the same latitude as Austen, Texas, and the low altitude and coastal setting make for some hot, humid days. It would be warm even if the classrooms had air conditioning (which, naturally, they do not), but I make do by swigging water like it’s going out of style and keeping the shirt sleeves rolled up and windows open.

I teach 8:00-4:00, Monday through Thursday, which keeps me hopping. Each class has its own personality, and what flies with my studious and subdued Class 1 usually blows up in my face with my raucous Class 4 or the downright adverserial Class 2. That means that I always have to be ready to change up the plan if things get too hairy.

Part of the problem is that intermediate foreign-language study is not as fascinating a subject as, for instance, boyfriends and mobile phones (two topics my students are deeply interested in). So I try to compensate by being highly animated and by involving the students as much as possible. This caused some problems early on with my students, who were more used to traditional Chinese lecture methods. “Stop walking around!” they complained. “You make us feel sick!” At the beginning, the most common question I got from my students is “Are you crazy?”

After class, I generally stagger back to my office and collapse, but I rouse myself to grade the seemingly never-ending stream of papers, to write tests, or to meet with students who have English (or non-English) questions to discuss.

In the evenings, I work on the next day’s lesson or spend time with Desiree. We also use this time to try to get closer to students by playing games, talking, watching movies, or doing anything else we can together when our school duties (on both sides) don't preclude it. It’s often difficult since everyone’s time is limited, but we continue to work on new ways of making friends.

This week was final exam week, and I bid a fond farewell to my students. Even in the space of three and a half short months, I've grown attached to them. Teaching here may not be the utopian lifestyle I had imagined it to be, but it is eminently rewarding and challenging. And for those who may be considering their options: I recommend it over mortgage brokering.

Dave

No place like home

Well, we've have had a slight change in plans for the summer.

Instead of coming back to the States on July 25th, we'll be going home on July 7th. We're very excited to have some extra time to visit family and friends, so please be in touch. We'd love to see as many of you as we can.

(Extremely) tentative plans:

Arrive in Greenville July 7

Leave Greenville TBD (maybe August 7)

Head for Illinois

Head for Michigan August 18

Return to China August 28

If you don't have our contact information but would like to meet up with us during this time, please leave a comment, and we'll e-mail you. Also, please keep us in your thoughts these next few weeks as we teach our last two weeks of classes and then give and grade final exams.

Can't wait to see you!

Desiree

Thanks, Dave!

Well, here are some of the photos that Dave wrote about last week. I have to say how thankful I am for the wonderful anniversary gift. It will always be a special memory of our first year in China.

My student, Lucy, who was the one responsible for organizing our little adventure, was so kind and patient. Of course, I think she rather enjoyed dressing up her English teacher in different outfits and seeing her get all fixed up. Dave was bored the whole time, but he was a real trooper, in spite of having to dress up in a suit, sit around doing nothing, and being told to smile and tilt his head at just the right angle. (I was also told to curl my little fingers--note my hands holding the umbrella. I guess it's a symbol of femininity or something.) Sometimes I even suspected that he was enjoying himself.

We took photos in traditional Chinese clothing, Japanese clothing, and Western clothing. (Well, I dressed up in different clothes—Dave stuck with the traditional black suit due to the fact that the traditional Asian outfits were traditionally small.)

One of my favorite parts of the day was watching the lady who did my hair and makeup. She was amazing! I felt like I was back at Rodeheaver Theater getting ready for a production. I learned all about traditional hairstyles. The most impressive was the Japanese. I never knew I could have so many different things stuck to my head! (There were flowers, chopsticks, a comb, jewelry, hair extensions, and a sufficient amount of hairspray to anesthetize a small animal.)

I also love how the Chinese aren't afraid to use photoshop. They seem to have this thing for making pictures perfect. Even when we went into Zhoupu several weeks ago to get passport pictures, the guy ended up playing with them a little--erasing a stray hair here or there, fixing the lighting. It was much better than my quick-jump-in-the-car-and-go-to-Walgreens-at-10:30p.m. passport photos from the states. And they were about the third of the price.

Desiree

He's good at what?

I had occasion a little while ago to show Pride and Prejudice to my students, and, as always, had them write about what they had watched. As with the Princess Bride, this produced some humorous results.

Chinese students sometimes have difficulty with English names. In the essays, I encountered main characters named Elizarbeth, Elizabtth, and Euzabeth. The leading men fared no better, as students variously transcribed their names as Dancy, Parcy, Daray, Darzy, and Binghy.

Their attempt to render the plot in English was also somewhat . . . less than accurate sometimes. Said of the first ball: "They all fall in love with themselves." Oh, what a difference those silly pronouns make.

"Mr. Bennet had five burly daughters." Y'know, 'burly' is not what springs to mind when one thinks of Keira Knightley.

Speaking of which, some people had difficulty grasping the relationship between the movie, the book, and the real world: "In the book, Elizabeth's name is Keira Knightley."

Neither were they entirely clear on the origin of the story: "The director is Jane Austen." Alternately: "The book's name is Jane Austen."

As always, the most bizzarely mangled English comes from those students who rely too heavily on direct translations with their electronic dictionaries: "Mr. Bingley looks kind, good at sociable smell hormone." And that, my friends, is the most important quality in a refined aristocratic gentleman.

It almost makes me want to show Macbeth, just for kicks.

Dave

Enjoy it without me!

A little while back, I was accosted in the hall by one of the tiny office staff. “Dave!” she said, “Will you be enjoying fishing on Monday?” This is a typically Chinese construction (at least, it is around here; everyone sounds like they read books with titles like Greater Motivation Through Your Vocabulary Choices), and the obvious answer, of course, is “Yes.”

Apparently, the last time I went fishing I was four years old. I say “apparently” because I have no memories of the event (doubtless I repressed the horrific experience of killing and disemboweling a helpless ichthyoid), but I have seen incriminating photographs. I figured that the worst that would happen was that I’d have lots of time to read my book and practice my Chinese, so I stowed the necessary reading material in Charlie’s bag and headed out. I was particularly looking forward to getting out into the great green beyond (there is precious little of this in Zhoupu, which sometimes appears to be shooting for “Most Post-Apocalyptic Town of the Year” award). I knew we’d be doing this because Victoria had messaged us telling us to bring some food for lunch. We would be fishing “in a wild place where there is no restaurant.” Great! Less concrete = better.

We clambered onto a bus, plus Wang Xin (our adminstrator) and Victoria (a secretary and friend of ours) and took off down the Zhoupu side streets. After a stop to purchase some fishing gear, our bus stopped in front of an apartment building, and our guide stood up. “Now let’s enjoy fishing!” Wang Xin said brightly, gesturing toward the bus door. I peered out the window. Apartments to the left. Stores behind us. Peach orchards to our right. Buildings everywhere. Somehow, my Western-Canadian trained mind had envisioned “wild place” as involving more wilderness and less . . . humanity.

My sense of doubt increased when we walked through another block of apartments and rounded a garlic field. A tiny canal stretched listlessly in front of us, complete with algae-covered light bulbs bobbing against the shore. Surely not, I thought. “Here we are!” exclaimed Wang Xin. A dead fish looked mockingly up at me from the bank. A feeling that was not quite encouragement washed over me.

Once I got over my initial disappointment, however, it really wasn’t bad. There was a nice grove of bamboo overhanging the far bank which provided great amusement, as Charlie immediately and inextricably entangled his line in a bamboo shoot while attempting to cast into the shade. His gyrations, and the Chinese guide’s accompanying shouts of dismay, provided all the hilarity I could have asked for.

I have heard otherwise intelligent and deep-thinking men extol the virtues of fishing. It promotes introspection, they say. It puts you in touch with creation. It’s relaxing. It’s the thinking man’s sport. Baloney, I say. There’s nothing I did while I was fishing that I couldn’t have done lying in my bed in my air-conditioned apartment, except get a sunburn. I cannot imagine an activity more boring.

“What about catching fish?” I hear you cry in protest. Yeah, you tell me, punk. What about catching fish? I wouldn’t know, as I certainly didn’t catch any. My method consisted of baiting the hook with some kind of cornmeal mixture, putting the line in the water, waiting fifteen minutes, pulling my line out of the water, and looking at my now-empty hook. I would sometimes spice up this routine by looking across the canal at the Chinese dude, not one hundred feet away, and watching him reel another one in. It was disgusting.

From now on, I’m sticking to tuna sandwiches. The lousy fish can stay where they are.