Journey to the West

Alright. It's finally time to share with you my incredible expedition to the northwest. The theme of the trip was the legendary Silk Road so all of the stops that we made were at major points along this ancient pathway to the East.
Without further ado...

Day One

(Sunday, November 1st)

As many great adventures do, this one started out by taking a bus to the airport at the crack of dawn. The excitement was palpable. And that's only half sarcasm, because while we were sleeping on that bus, it was an optimistic, "Hey, we're gonna wake up in a cool place" kind of sleep.

It was about a two hour flight from Nanjing to our first destination: Xi'an. Located right in the center of China, Xi'an is the capital of Shaanxi Province and is one of the four major historical capitals in Chinese history, the others being Beijing, Nanjing, and Luoyong. Like Nanjing, Xi'an is now a bustling metropolis, serving as a bridge between the East and the West of the country. The air pollution isn't great because about two thirds of the city's energy comes from coal, but our tour guide informed us that the government is actively trying to convert the city's economy to focus more on tourism and the service industry rather than mining.

The Great Mosque

Upon arrival, the first thing we did was go to a traditional Xi'an restaurant where we ate our weight in a variety of delicious dumplings. After that, we checked into one of a number of very nice hotels that we stayed at courtesy of the program during our travels; no, we were not roughing it on this trip - tourism at its finest. After the hotel, we visited the first site of real historical significance on the trip, The Great Mosque of Xi'an.

Originally built in the year 742, The Great Mosque is one of the largest in China and is still actively used as a site of worship for Chinese Muslims. The construction and architectural style is entirely Chinese aside from the Arabic lettering and some decorations. After perusing the mosque, we ate dinner in the surrounding "Muslim Quarter." I ate "biangbiang" noodles which are a type of wide, flat noodles infamous for their extremely complicated (56-stroke) character in Chinese.

"biangbiang mian"

 It was fascinating to see walk around in the Muslim Quarter because there were so many people speaking Arabic. We were far from the only tourists in the area so it was interesting to see some native Chinese people struggle with a language barrier in their own country. This was one of the most enlightening parts of the trip for me, and it helped me grasp China's vast diversity within its borders.

After the noodles, we capped our night off in traditional Chinese style: with Haagen-Dazs ice cream.

Day Two

The exterior side of the wall

We started the second day of the trip by visiting Xi'an's most obvious cultural landmark: the city wall. Enclosing about fourteen square miles of the city, the Xi'an City Wall is one of the oldest, largest and best preserved city walls in China. After being constructed in the 14th century, the wall has undergone a number of renovations, but the original image has been maintained. There are strict building height regulations within the wall so the view from the top of the fortification is quite impressive.

Ol' Reliable

Additionally, the top of the wall is wide and generally very flat so we were able to rent bikes and ride around the entirety of the structure. This took a couple of hours because the wall is over eight miles long and when you're an American tourist biking on ancient Chinese architecture, you're going to stop at least a few times to take pictures. Not only was the wall astounding from an architectural and historical standpoint, but it was also just a lot of fun.

After spending a couple of hours on the wall, we ate lunch in a big concert hall clearly used to entertain westerners. For the first time in months we were suddenly surrounded by mostly English-speaking people which was bizarre. Then it was back on the bus for another couple of hours until we reached the final, and undoubtedly most famous tourist attraction in the Xi'an area...

The Terracotta Army

The tour guides like to throw around the term "8th Wonder of the World" which is a lot to live up to, but the Terracotta Warriors and Horses did not disappoint. Pictured above is Pit #1, the largest of the four excavated chambers which were constructed in the late third century BCE (246-209) as part of a massive tomb for Emperor Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China. 

The first thing that you might notice is that most of the figures are completely shattered and scattered about with all of the others. After thousands of years, the walls and support pillars of the chambers began to collapse, crushing most of the soldiers and horses and burying them under layers of earth. The chambers were only discovered about 40 years ago by local farmers so excavations and efforts to reconstruct the army are ongoing. The enormity of this ancient memorial project - which involved over 700,000 workers - only became more awe-inspiring when we learned that each warrior was originally painted to go along with his entirely unique facial features. Due to chemical reactions with the Xi'an air, the paint has faded over the centuries; however, archaeologists are working to uncover the thousands of still-buried soldiers in ways that better preserve their pigments when unearthed.

Looks like somebody's got a case of the Mondays.

After thoroughly examining The Terracotta Army, we got back on the bus to Xi'an where we boarded a night train to Lanzhou. We took two night trains over the course of the trip and they were quite the experiences within themselves. The sleeper cars are made up of four person cabins with two sets of bunk beds and about three feet of space in between them. On the first one, Amy, Sophie, and I roomed with a random Chinese man who spoke no English at all. I'd like to say that we chatted with him, played cards together, and made an everlasting bond worthy of a Disney short; but, in reality, he didn't seem all that interested in us and rebuffed our few attempts to talk with him, so we barely interacted at all.

Day Three

Waking up on a train was a bit disorienting, but I actually slept very well; the gentle rocking throughout the night was surprisingly calming. After regrouping at a Lanzhou hotel for breakfast and showers, we set off on the bus headed to Bingling Temple. None of us had any idea what this place was going to be like, but we were told that it was pretty isolated and we were going to have to take a boat to reach our final destination.

After about three hours on the bus passing little besides mountains and wheat fields - it's too cold for rice up there - we reached a huge reservoir in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. Our tour guide led us down a long jetty to the water where we boarded relatively small speedboats that then began to take us out towards the center of the reservoir. The air pollution combined with the mist from the lake created a thin fog so we couldn't really see where we were headed until suddenly the outline of a dramatic, jagged mountain range began to emerge in the distance. After twenty minutes or so, the boat entered a small channel and began weaving through the tall peaks.

Finally, we turned a corner and docked up against a wide staircase built into the rocks. We disembarked and turned around to this view:

The natural beauty of China

Now this view absolutely floored me. Before we even went into the temple, this place had already become my favorite spot of the week. It was simply beautiful and the weather was just about as nice as it gets. I was beginning to understand why someone would want to build a Buddhist temple out in such a desolate area. And the scene "inside" of the temple was just as magnificent.

Now, I put "inside" in quotes because we didn't really go inside at all. I hadn't really understood just what kind of temple this was. In fact, the real attraction was not a temple but a massive array of grottoes. For those who are unaware, grottoes are simply caves - in this case artificial - that often contain paintings and/or sculpture. Thus, we are greeted by more epic sites as we rounded the corner and ventured deeper into the mountains.

In ancient times, this path between the mountains was used by merchants traveling along the Silk Road. The first grottoes in Bingling Temple date back to around 420 CE. Over the next thousand years, as Buddhism in China continued to grow in popularity, rich donors commissioned the construction of new grottoes along the cliff-side. They did this, in part, as an attempt to convert the passing merchants and spread Buddhism throughout the world; however, some argue that the biggest motivation was more self-centered. The grottoes also signified the benefactors' own religious devotion; essentially, if they built a bunch of expensive shrines, they believed they would be divinely rewarded. In addition, the caves and their artwork became a source of immense pride for the locals who constructed them.

And, as you probably already noticed, there is a gigantic Maitreya Buddha ("future Buddha") carved alongside the hundreds of grottoes. It's 88 feet tall, was built sometime during the Tang Dynasty (618-907), and really punctuates an already stunning visual display. According to our tour guide, he's had some serious work done in the last few years which is why he still looks so silky smooth after a millennium and a half.

Oh, hello.

Bingling Temple was probably my favorite locale of the week, but the adventure was far from over. After spending a few hours among the grottoes, we once again boarded the boats, crossed the reservoir back to our buses, and spent another couple of hours driving to Xiahe.

Xiahe County, located on the edge of Gansu Province, is a large town populated by mostly ethnic Tibetans, so the style of living is vastly different from your typical Chinese city. The people dress in traditional Tibetan clothes, schoolchildren learn both Tibetan and Chinese (and some English), and yaks are the most important part of the economy. Upon arrival in Xiahe, our tour guide brought us to the home of a traditional Tibetan family who welcomed us with some tasty yak milk and a crumbly snack made from grains that kind of tasted like a mixture of dog food and brown sugar, but somehow I mean that in a good way because I thought it was quite good.

We were able to ask the daughter in the family a few questions and we learned some interesting things about her home and the way they lived. Some interesting things to note:

• Tibetan style houses often don't have specific bedrooms, but have beds scattered among the kitchen, dining, and sitting rooms where the family sleeps.
• Despite living in a very rural area, they had a television and smartphones.
• The daughter even reported that online dating is a common way for young people in Xiahe to meet significant others. #TheDigitalAge

During a break in our interview with the daughter, the trip took a darker turn and our tour guide informed us that we were not allowed to ask any questions about riots or demonstrations against the government so as not to upset the family. She went on to inform us that Xiahe - which, on the surface, appears to be a sleepy little town filled with yaks and Buddhist monks - was home to violent political protests in 2008, the likes of which you may have heard about as China prepared to host the Beijing Olympic Games.

The conflicts in the Tibetan Autonomous regions have generally emerged from accusations against the Chinese government - accusations backed by a great deal of hard evidence, mind you - claiming that the government has been actively diluting the population of native Tibetan people by moving Han Chinese into the area, gentrifying their native lands. The Tibetans have routinely reported that a racist environment has begun to develop where it is more and more difficult for local Tibetans to get paying jobs and afford food for their families. According to the now-exiled Tibetan government, on March 15th, 2008 a group of political demonstrators - made up mostly of monks from the nearby Labrang Monastery (more on that in a bit) - marched on the Chinese government offices in Xiahe to protest the government's involvement in the "autonomous" region. According to the Chinese government, the protesters caused millions of dollars in damage and had to be subdued with tear gas.

According to the Tibetan government-in-exile, three days later, nineteen Tibetan demonstrators were shot and killed in response to the protests. In addition, our tour guide explained that the Chinese military retaliated by destroying the center of the town with tanks and explosives as to deter future uprisings. This is why so much of the town looks brand new despite being it being hundreds of years old; everything had to be rebuilt seven years ago.

Downtown Xiahe

The Chinese government does a great job of downplaying these types of actions domestically as political protesters continue to be dealt with brutally and without remorse. I fear for beautiful little places like Xiahe and hope that the increasing spread of information about these actions will soon place too much pressure on the Chinese government to continue oppressing the people of Xiahe and others like them.

While this leg of the trip was obviously more solemn than the others, it was arguably the most important because I got to truly break out of my Nanjing bubble and see the everyday struggles that these people must endure. It was humbling and enlightening, especially in how it helped paint a more complete picture of the political climate in China, something that is a hot topic around the world.

Day Four

On Wednesday morning, we checked out of our hotel and headed just up the road to the famous Labrang Monastery. Strategically situated between Tibet and Mongolia, the Labrang Monastery - founded in 1709 - is one of the most famous monasteries in the area and one of the largest Buddhist monastic universities.

The Main Hall

With one of the monks as our tour guide, we were able to browse a number of the enchanting halls which are filled with ancient tapestries, towering sculptures, and nearly 60,000 sutras (hand-written scriptures recording the oral teachings of the original Buddha). At times, it was an intensely solemn experience, witnessing the intense devotion of the monks going about their daily business in dimly lit halls that smelled thickly of incense; at a minute later, I'd see a group of young monks - sometimes boys enter the monastery as early as eight or nine - running through the courtyard in their robes, kicking a makeshift soccer ball back and forth, laughing with each other. So not too serious.

Made entirely out of yak butter

And even the monastery was not without signs of technological development. While they did their best to be discrete, we spotted a number of monks glancing at cell phones which they tucked back in their robes as soon as they noticed outsiders nearby. But hey, the Dalai Lama's been on Twitter since 2009; there really are no limits to the ways in which we can utilize the internet.

Unfortunately we weren't allowed to take any pictures in the halls besides one which contained the monastery's yearly Yak Butter Statue Contest entries. Yes, the smell was difficult to bear, but the craftsmanship was udderly remarkable...Anyone? No? Alright, moving on.

After touring the monastery and connecting with my inner Buddhist, we got back on the bus, drove four hours back to Lanzhou, then boarded another night train - this one for twelve hours - that took us to the farthest northwest point of our excursion. This time around, Amy, Sophie, and I were joined by one of our classmates so there was no chance for redemption after our failure to connect with our last cabin-mate. Next time, for sure.

Day Five

Good morning, Dunhuang

After another cozy night on the train, we woke up and disembarked into a very cold, dark morning in Dunhuang. As I touched on in my last blog post, after the Chinese Civil War in 1949, the Chinese government abolished the five time zone system that it had previously operated under and established one time zone, China Standard Time, for the entire country. This means that, despite being about two hours behind in terms of sunlight, daily life in Dunhuang starts at the same time as it does on the east coast; it's just a lot darker.

Dunhuang, like many other cities in China, has undergone rapid development in the last decade thanks to a burgeoning middle class, which has, in turn, created an influx of tourists from around the country. Located at the crossroads of the Silk Road and the main corridor leading from India to Mongolia and Southern Siberia, Dunhuang was once a critical military and economic outpost; but, with the invention of faster forms of transportation, the city has been relegated to more of a historical landmark and is one of the most recognized tourist locations among the Chinese people.

After resting for a few hours at our hotel, we boarded a new bus and headed out of the city toward Mingsha Shan, "The Singing Sand Mountain." In fact, the city is in the middle of the Gobi Desert, so no matter which way you're headed in Dunhuang, you're going toward sand. This was the first time that I had ever been in a desert so I was eager to get out to the dunes.

The "entrance" to the desert

When we arrived, the beauty of the rolling dunes really struck me. Mountains of sand as far as the eye could see, and with no pollution out there in the desert, that was a lot farther in Dunhuang than in Nanjing. The Singing Sand Mountain, which towers over the Crescent Moon Oasis, is named such because of the whistling phenomenon that occurs as the wind whips over the sand. Had it not been absolutely freezing - that desert wind will get to you - I could have stayed out there all day, soaking in the scenic vistas and listening to the subtle sounds of the desert.

The Crescent Moon Oasis

The Crescent Moon Oasis was one of the major reasons that the city was settled in the first place as it provided merchants with an ideal resting point after spending months traveling in caravans across the desert. Apparently the water level has been consistently dropping thanks to global climate change, but no doubt the Chinese government will keep it filled artificially to maintain the tourist attraction. Continuing with the theme of technology being everywhere, that tall building in the center of the oasis? It had free Wi-Fi.

And no outing to the desert would be complete without...

Camels!

Yes, we all got to ride camels up into the dunes and back down. Important details to note:

• Camels are much bigger than I anticipated,
• I named my camel "Flannel the Camel", and 
• I thoroughly enjoyed the experience despite being nearly incapacitated by the cold.

Night market life

After we returned from frolicking in the desert, I took a brief break to get warm at the hotel and then bundled back up again to explore the local night market. The night market is a relatively common feature of Chinese cities where you can frequently find souvenirs and specialty local food items. In fact, I got dinner at a small restaurant in the market and tried a local specialty: lǘròu huǒshāo. For those of you keeping score at home, that's basically a donkey meat burger. Say what you want; I thought it was the most delicious food I've had in a long time. They even have a saying up in the northwestern provinces relating to the delicacy:

天上龙肉，地上驴肉

In Heaven there is dragon meat, on Earth there is donkey meat

Day Six

The final day of our adventure was mostly spent taking a pair of planes back to Nanjing, but first we visited the most famous landmark in Dunhuang: The Mogao Grottoes. World famous for their age, scale, and preservation, the Mogao Grottoes were first dug out in the year 366 as places of Buddhist meditation and worship. They contain some of the best examples of ancient Buddhist art in the world.

Just like the ones at Bingling Temple, the caves were carved into the side of a cliff bordering a popular path on the Silk Road. The site contains hundreds of ornately decorated caves - stunning Buddhist sculptures surrounded by incredibly detailed murals that cover every inch of each wall. No cameras are allowed inside so I have no photos that do the site justice, but the Mogao Caves Wikipedia page will provide a better idea of what I'm talking about.

A secret sealed cave, nicknamed "The Library Cave", was discovered in 1900 and contained what came to be known as "The Dunhuang Manuscripts": one of the greatest treasure troves of historical documents ever discovered. The cave not only contained manuscripts that dated back to the fifth century, but also the oldest dated printed book, The Diamond Sutra.

The site also contains another gigantic Buddha statue, this one even taller than the one at Bingling Temple at 116 feet tall. Unfortunately, it is enclosed in the nine-story wooden structure seen below so the picture is underwhelming compared to the massive sculpture itself. Interestingly enough, this Maitreya Buddha is unique in that it has female features. This is because Empress Wu Zetian - China's only female emperor and a fascinatingly deceitful woman - commissioned its construction in the year 695 to promote the idea of a divinely chosen female ruler.

There's a huge Buddha in there, I promise.

Finally, we departed the caves, headed to the comically small Dunhuang Airport (2 terminals), and spent the rest of the day flying back to Nanjing. Thus ended our Silk Road expedition.

It truly was an adventure of epic proportions and one that I will not soon forget. I learned a litany of new things about Chinese history, crossed a great number of items off my bucket list (most of which I didn't know were on my bucket list until I'd already done them), and gained a much more in-depth perspective on China than I ever would have gotten had I stayed here in Nanjing for the entirety of my time here.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading, let me know if you have any questions, and I hope you enjoyed the summary of my journey to the west.

Tragedy

Just over a week ago, I embarked on a five day excursion to northwest China. It was one of the most fascinating journeys of my life and I am very excited to tell you all about it. I promise to get to that eventually.

But first, I want to express nothing but sympathy, support, and love for those affected by the recent terrorist attacks in Paris, as well as the bombings in Beirut, and the numerous other tragedies that have left the world in a state of shock and mourning over the past few days. In these times of unimaginable grief, we must remember the power of unconditional love and its ability to unite people from all nations and lift us back up, not through hate, but through compassion for one another. The Motto of the City of Paris is as relevant as ever:

Fluctuat nec mergitur  // She is tossed by the waves but does not sink 

I now want to provide insight into how the attacks on Paris are being received here in Nanjing as I believe that it is important from an educational standpoint.

The attacks in Paris occurred at about 10pm Friday night, Central European Time. China - which, by government mandate, operates on a single timezone - is seven hours ahead, so the reports of the attacks began coming in first thing Saturday morning. When I woke up, I did a routine Facebook check, and thereby discovered what was unfolding in Paris. As I went into town, everyday life here in Nanjing didn't seem to be too affected, but, because of the language barrier, I'm sure I missed numerous conversations on the bus and elsewhere about the ongoing events. What I found online relating to the Chinese reaction was unsurprising.

Immediately following the attacks on Saturday, the heads of the Chinese government joined the rest of the international community in vocal outrage. Chinese President Xi Jinping publicly denounced the attacks as "barbaric" and reportedly called Francois Hollande, the French president, to express his "deep condolences." Foreign Ministry spokesman Hong Lei elaborated further saying, "Terrorism is a common challenge facing humanity. China resolutely supports France in maintaining its national security and stability in attacking terrorism."

Now, unlike the United States, China is not a historic ally to France and there has not been the outpouring of public support like we've seen in the States; however, I have seen a handful of posts on WeChat, which is the largest social media app here in China. Paralleling what I saw on Western social media, there were one or two xenophobic voices framing the problem in terms of a European immigration problem, but this was not the norm. Most were simply posting about the news itself and offered little commentary whatsoever.

As for public media, Chinese government-controlled news outlets have all been offering up coverage of the Paris attacks. All of what I have seen has been entirely sympathetic to France and those affected, but the news has not had the staying power that it has with Western sources. It seems the Chinese media - which, once again, is controlled by the government - has somewhat moved on, but this is not necessarily a representation of the Chinese people.

The Front Page of the English Version of the government-run online news site, Xinhua

That night, when I talked to my host brother for the first time following the attacks, after greeting me, the first words he said were, "Did you hear about France?"

I told him that I had. He then asked if I had seen the videos emerging on the internet: inside the concert hall, people fleeing the scene, police filling the Paris streets. When I said that I hadn't, he sunk away quietly, saying, "Horrible. So sad." I should note that Jerry is a student at an international school and is constantly on the internet. He is not representative of Chinese society as a whole, but then again, no one individual is.

It goes to show that, no matter where you live, the idea of living in terror is universally condemned.

Yesterday evening, I had dinner with my host dad and two of his friends. While the language barrier prevents me from understanding about ninety-five percent of what my host dad and his friends say when they're clipping along in their lightning fast, Nanjing accent, I could tell the conversation eventually shifted to the attacks in Paris. When it did, they were noticeably more somber than they had been a moment before.

What followed was thought-provoking; the conversation shifted to the topic of possibly the most infamous act of terror in modern Chinese history, what is known as "The Nanking Massacre."

"The Nanking Massacre" (also referred to as "The Rape of Nanking") refers to a six week period during the Second Sino-Japanese War when the Japanese invaded the city of Nanjing (then spelled "Nanking"). After capturing the city, which was the capital of the Republic of China at that time, the Japanese forces raped and murdered thousands upon thousands of Chinese civilians in the city. Because almost all of the Japanese military records were kept secret or destroyed, historians have had intense difficulty estimating just how many lives were lost -- the lowest estimations place the death toll at around 50,000 lives, while the Chinese government vehemently asserts that the actual mark is over 300,000.

Despite the fact that the massacre occurred in 1937, the events still have a real impact on Chinese and Japanese relations, especially in Nanjing, where an anti-Japanese sentiment still clings to life with the older generations. The first time that I encountered this was early on in my time here. We were at dinner with a handful of family friends and suddenly my host dad and one of his friends directed their conversation at me. Jerry explained to me that they were curious about what I thought of Japan. I sort of shrugged off the question and they didn't pursue my opinion any further, but then Jerry said something along the lines of, 'My father and grandfather don't like Japan. They think they're the enemy.' He said it in a very matter-of-fact way, like he was talking about a rival sports team, but it stuck with me and I was reminded of that moment at dinner.

Now, the history of the memory of the massacre is interesting within itself. Following World War II, the politics of the Cold War encouraged Mao Zedong to downplay the massacre in order to maintain positive trade relations with Japan. This started to change in the 1970s as China become more economically independent, but numerous leaders in the Japanese government still refuse to acknowledge the massacre at all. Just three years ago, the governor of Tokyo said that he believed the Nanjing Massacre to be wildly over exaggerated, claiming that it would have been impossible to kill so many people in such a short period of time. While the Japanese government has officially recognized the massacre, public statements from the minority - as well as scholarly debates over the extent of the massacre - continue to fuel the tensions.

In 1985, the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall was built in remembrance of the victims and to raise awareness to the tragedy. I had the opportunity to visit the hall with my classmates just last week. The Hall is dark and dramatic, meticulously documents the massacre, and uses intense, often graphic, imagery to convey a deep sense of mourning. The number "300,000" is a focal point throughout the museum and I found myself feeling both entirely sympathetic to the victims and skeptical of the government's use of the Hall as propaganda, especially as I observed that the majority of the visitors that day were middle-school students.

This sculpture of a woman holding a child in her arms stands at the entrance to the memorial site.

I'll admit that I expected to find an emotionally charged scene; I expected nothing less from the Chinese government who are nothing if not grandiose (see: Beijing Olympics), and yet I also found something that surprised me and I find particularly poignant as I reflect on the tragedies that have occurred over the last few days.

The back end of the hall focused heavily on a interview project conducted with former Japanese soldiers who expressed great remorse for what had happened. Furthermore, the text that accompanied these depictions of death and destruction were not as anti-Japanese as I had expected. In fact, the rhetoric used was much less nationalist and more about peace in general. The "Epilogue" in the final room of the Hall contained the following phrases;

"War is the scourge of civilization"

"War is a brutal machine...strangles humanity" and 

"Let's work together to prevent war and build a peaceful and harmonious world!"

Before I came to China, I had heard much about the controlling nature of the Chinese government -- of the Chinese Communist Party's brutality in suppressing political dissidents and "maintaining order." Since I arrived, I have heard that much of it is true; the Chinese government is certainly guilty of the atrocities leaked to the public. I do not mean to give undue praise an oligarchy that has trampled many of its own people on the road to relative prosperity.

That said, the Chinese government does not represent the feelings of the people. And regardless of where these messages of peace came from, they are an important reminder of what our goal truly should be in all of this political squabbling: to create a world where each nation coexists peacefully and where each individual is free to live the life he or she deserves.

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As always, thank you for reading my little blog. Here's a little preview of the upcoming post about my trip to the northwest.

At the Crescent Moon Oasis in Dunhuang

Student Life

Yesterday we returned from an epic trek around the northwest of China that brought us from the ancient city wall of Xi'an to the vast deserts of Dunhuang.

But I haven't had time to write about it or post pictures. So while I work on the account of my journey to the west, here's a post about school!

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Contrary to what you may believe after reading my previous posts, between dramatic treks through ancient mountain passes and fine dining in Shanghai skyscrapers, I do actually have a fair amount of schoolwork here at Nanjing University. In fact, we just wrapped up midterms so I thought that I would talk more about the traditional school side of my experience here.

Monday through Thursday, I have Chinese class starting at 8am; that means I have to wake up around 6:30 in the morning so I can leave the house by 7:15 to catch a bus to school. My morning commute -- which conveniently consists of only one bus ride -- takes about 35-40 minutes with normal rush hour traffic.

Now a 6:30am start is not ideal for your average American college student, especially when you consider that I have Chinese class from 8am to noon Mon-Thurs. with just three short breaks. It can be a struggle to stay focused and I've been drinking a lot more coffee here than I ever did back in the US, but one cup almost always gets me through the day. Technically, I have two Chinese classes with two separate professors that split the four hours in half each day. Both of my teachers are wonderful, we get plenty of personal attention because my class only has 5 students, and while it's hard for me to say just how much progress I've really made in the first two months, my teachers, friends, and -- arguably most importantly -- my host family have all told my speaking skills have improved by leaps and bounds. And that's an exciting feeling.

Four hours of Chinese class each day also means about four hours of studying and homework for said Chinese class every day as well. The vast amount of new vocabulary and grammar can be tough to keep up with, but it undoubtedly pays off in the long run. In addition to the coursework, this program also has a language pledge requirement so from 8am to 8pm Monday through Thursday, all of the students are expected to speak only Chinese. Now I end up breaking that rule slightly when I need to ask specific questions to my teachers and my tutor. Side note: My tutor's name is Vera. She offers the perfect combination of encouragement and brutal criticism as she does her best to put with my botched pronunciation. But besides the occasional "Chinglish" I've been pretty diligent with the language pledge which definitely expedites the learning process. I will say that it's exhausting and it feels great to switch back into English when 8pm/the weekend rolls around, but it gets more natural with every passing day.

In addition to Chinese, I have three other classes that are significantly less intensive:

1. History of Chinese & American Relations
   Your traditional history class, taught in English but our Professor is Chinese. It's taught in a three hour block once a week so it's a bit of struggle to stay completely engaged, but our professor keeps the lectures moving and makes it interesting. China is fascinating because, while it's an ancient country, it's still developing in the modern economic era.
2. Intercultural Class
   Basically, we talk about the differences in American and Chinese culture, how these differences manifest themselves in everyday life, and how we can approach them with a more open mind. The readings are a bit dense and technical, covering everything from body language to personal values, but I appreciate having a time and space to reflect on my interactions with Chinese culture, especially as I continually adapt to life in a Chinese household.

Nanjing University is also one of the top institutions of higher education in all of China. For Chinese students, it's extremely competitive -- definitely in what one might consider the "Ivy League" of Chinese Universities -- so I feel very privileged to be involved with a program that exposes us to some of the brightest minds in all of China, professors and students.

The Chinese education system is actually very interesting, but I certainly don't envy these Chinese students. The entire system is extremely standardized; from elementary school onward, each student is loaded with homework and the main focus for every school-age child is studying with the goal of getting into a good college. At the end of middle school, students are placed into a tiered high school system where only the students with the best test scores can go to the best high schools. The level of schoolwork only becomes more rigorous as they prepare for "the Gaokao": the one and only college entrance examination in China. Think of it as the Chinese SAT, except instead of it being a part of the college application process, it's the entire application process. Unless you are a musical prodigy, Chinese universities don't care at all about extracurricular activities, leadership experience, personality, etc... You are your score and that puts extreme pressure on these kids as they grow up.

As I've come to learn, it's rare to find a "kids need time to be kids" attitude here in China. While the US is continually shifting away from test scores and more towards allowing children the freedom to discover the world for themselves, China's youth is expected to spend drastically more time on their studies from the ages of 6 to 18. There are plenty of exceptions; my host brother, for example, goes to an international high school so his student life is much more similar to what you might find in the US, and this experience is becoming more and more common as the government continually fine tunes its system. But with a population of 1.3 billion people and a limited number of top universities, it makes sense that to be a top student, you have to do a nearly unthinkable amount of work. Oh, and they also have to go through puberty and all of the other difficulties of the developmental years at the same time, so there's that.

Interestingly enough, the Chinese college students I talk to here say that college is a walk in the park compared to how much work they did in middle and high school. Now they've made it and can enjoy a much more relaxed, western style education. Needless to say, I admire the work ethic of my native Chinese colleagues who have made it to Nanjing University, but I'm certainly not envious of the path they took to get here.

Alright, that's enough about school.

Sticking Out like a Sore Thumb

Surprise, surprise, there aren't a lot of Americans here in Nanjing! Yes, it's a big city and I don't get too many odd looks when I'm hanging around the international students' campus here at Nanjing University; however, when I go just a few blocks down the street, it's a whole different story.

In my last post, I compared being here in China to being a zebra in the New England wilderness. I've honestly lost count of the number of times that I've been asked for a picture. And the farther you get away from campus, the more shocking my presence becomes. I'm almost certain that I'm the only white person living in my apartment complex, so I've become somewhat of a celebrity with my neighbors and the security guards at the gates who were, for the first few evenings, very skeptical when I returned home and told them that, yes, I did indeed live here.

Last week, I was sitting in a cafe just around the corner from my school, and a Chinese guy (probably 20 or so) walked up to me and told me -- in decent English -- that his friend thought I was cute and asked if he could take a picture of me. After I obliged, he insisted that smiling wasn't enough and I needed to pose for the next picture. So I threw up a peace sign and he was satisfied, so that was probably the weirdest picture experience I've had so far. But it happens quite a lot, especially when I'm hanging around tourist attractions with Sophie, my fellow pale-skinned, blonde-haired friend. Even in downtown Shanghai, a much more international city, we had one girl ask for a picture with us.

As an American, it seems pretty silly, but you have to remember that the United States is, compared to China, a very diverse place. When I tell locals that I'm a study-abroad student from America, the most common reaction is actually, "Why China?" To me, it's a ridiculous question; China is the most populous country in the world, it's a rising economic superpower, and it's a huge country with a rich historical background. Sure, it's a very difficult language to learn, especially for those who have only studied romantic languages, but I'm very excited about the possibilities that this will open up for me. Here in China, there's an intense commercial focus on the west, especially the United States. For example, almost all of the fashion billboards you see in the malls here have white models on them. It's much less common for American students to come to China than for Chinese students to go to America, so, while I think it's weird to be stopped on the street by strangers just because of how I look, I suppose I might react in a similar way if I were in their position.

Fun Stuff!
Before we left on our week-long trip, we visited two really awesome museums! First we perused the oldest museum in China, the Nanjing Museum.

The Nanjing Museum

Big Old Tablet Thing

Replica of a Chinese street during the '20s

Dinosaurs!

Sophie really liked the ancient pottery

Then we went to the Nanjing Urban Planning Museum, which may sound horribly boring at first and I'll admit that my expectations were low, but it turned out to be really interesting. It showcased the history of how Nanjing has developed as a city and where the city government plans to take it in the future. These types of museums have popped up in many big Chinese cities because so much development has occurred in the last decade. Additionally, the Chinese government really enjoys showing off said development to tourists.

A giant replica of the city!

An elaborate presentation (including a film) about city attractions

Some more models and charts about future development plans