1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, ?, ?

I was doing patterns with one of my kindergarten classes the other day. Nothing too complicated... star circle square star circle square star circle square, and the like. They were getting them all very easily, so I decided to up it a little bit. 9 A 8 B 7 C 6 D, etc, and it took them a little bit longer, but they still picked it up pretty quickly.

So I decided to put something that was even more challenging. And that would be the pattern you see in the title. Some of you will probably crack it immediately; for others it may take a little longer. One of my students figured it out in her head within two minutes. She's six years old! Answer at the bottom.

That was interesting kindergarten incident #1 of the day. Number two occurred that afternoon. At the beginning of each kinder class, I draw a happy face and a sad face on the board; good behaviour and bad behaviour are recognized under the appropriate faces. I try to vary the faces each day - sometimes I'll draw cartoon people, other times anthropomorphized objects or animals. Yesterday I happened to do simple, almost geometric faces: dots for the eyes, accents circonflexes for the eyebrows, and so on. Upon seeing these, one of my students raised her hand and said, "teacher...emoticons?" Bear in mind, again, that these are six year-olds whose first language is not English, whose native alphabet is not Roman. The codebreaking left me impressed but not shocked; the emoticon incident (this, incidentally, would be a good name for an internet spy novel) left me flabbergasted and laughing. I asked her where she learned the word; apparently her mother and older sister were discussing it one day.

Thus, in honour of the occasion, I will end with a smile. :)

p.s. the next two numbers in the sequence are 21 and 34. Each number is the sum of the two preceding it: 1 + 2 = 3, 2 + 3 = 5, 3+ 5 = 8, and so on. Six years old! And she did it in her head!

And I remember Shanghai

How I wasn't sure just what was safe to eat
The chickens pecked and wandered at the barefoot ankles of the children hawking figurines of workers smiling
What's the Chinese word for cheese?

Thanks to Bishop Allen for the above lyrics. As it happened, I didn't see any live chickens, but I do, nevertheless, remember Shanghai.

In my previous Shanghai post, I mentioned the architecture downtown, which is radically different from that of Beijing, Seoul, and Busan. The guidebooks had made mention of this, however, so I wasn't completely unprepared. What I wasn't ready for was the traffic.

Oh, the traffic. The dizzying, exhilarating, anarchic traffic.

Shanghai!
A city where stoplights are suggestions at best.

Shanghai!
Where flocks of bicycles and scooters roam the streets.

Shanghai!
Where pedestrians defy death with every step off the sidewalk.

Springfield!
Where skateboard-riding youths urge you to eat their shorts.

Er, moving on.

Given my reputation, not as an expert economist, political theorist or even as a PhD. candidate in Sino-industrial history, but as someone who has spent more than eight days in China (four in Shanghai, five in Beijing), I feel particularly qualified to comment on the socio-political situation in contemporary China.

As I understand it, it's like this: China is still "communist" in much the same way that Stephen Harper is a "good prime minister." Between the condo developments and the Ferrari dealership, Shanghai does not show many signs of being a society in which property is shared equally. I think it's probably fair to say that communist China has never had such a society, but now there's isn't even any pretense of such a thing.

Historically speaking (or so we were told in Mrs. Findlay's Grade 13 Mod. West. Civ. class), revolutions have come from the middle class. When you're struggling to get enough food to feed your children, it can be hard to worry about more abstract issues such as voting. The reason Great Britain managed to avoid the equivalent of the French Revolution was that the nobility wasn't as rigidly hierarchical: those of sufficient wealth were able to buy their way into some form of power.

In China, the middle class is growing rapidly (though still dwarfed by those living day to day), but it's uncertain just how much power they have. At what point does one decide the Porsche isn't sufficient compensation for a lack of free speech? Is China's economic growth sustainable environmentally, economically, or socially?

I did enjoy the dumplings.

Oh, Ok

Well, 24 hours and much pedestring later, I return to the interweb to find that blogger is, in fact, accessible. Must just have been standard e-difficulties. I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed to find that the Chinese government doesn't object to my writings.

You know what? That's all for now.

Interesting...

In attempting to update this blog from Shanghai, I seem to have run afoul of China's notorious internet censorship restrictions. At any rate, I am unable to access blogger in the usual manner. However, I have vague memories of setting up "blog by email" at some point in the past. So if you're reading this, it's because

a) Not only did I set up the blog by email (bbe) feature, I also
b) remembered the email address by which I can can use it.

If you're not reading this, of course, the point is moot, but since hope is the foundation upon which all creation must be built, I will proceed under the assumption that the blogging is proceeding as planned.

So...Shanghai.

First impressions? London mixed with Gotham City by way of Metropolis. The principal tourist area, known as the Bund, is filled with imposing Neo-Classical structures which date back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries. This gives the city (or parts thereof, I should say) a decidedly Western feel, most reminiscent to me of London. Across the river from the Bund, however, is the Pudong area, the exaggeratedly modern skyscraper district which seems like something out of a cheerful optimistic and future-looking comic (Metropolis). Yesterday, though, was dark and damp and foggy; the buildings loomed through the clouds as though screaming for Commissioner Gordon to shine the Bat Signal on them.

Today? Still cloudy, but no rain as of yet, fortunately. I've returned to the hostel for a mid-afternoon rest after much walking ce matin. The Shanghai Museum was interesting enough in its way, and comforting in the familiar museum-smell that seems to permeate all such institutions. I also took the time to meander through various roads and sidestreets, stopping only to sample an occasional steamed dumpling- which are, I am pleased to say, as exquisitely delicious as I had been led to believe. The Yuyuan Gardens, though not at their most floral in late December, were pleasing in their verdant, labyrinthine way, and I also made acquaintance with a most loquacious young man named Jimmy, who spewed forth a semi-prepared speech in such a manner as to turn Aaron Sorkin green with envy.

"Hello my friend where are you from? Oh, Canada! Canada is a very nice country. It rhymes with banana. I like to meet new and interesting foreigners and make conversation with them. You are very interesting looking with your blue eyes and many mustaches and big nose. You look very funny, don't you think? Anyway I am sixteen years old and I like to learn English but I cannot live at home anymore because my father beats me and my mother very much so I have had to leave home but under Chinese law children are not allowed to work so I have no means of supporting myself and I ask you my friend for some small money to help me feed myself-"

I gave him 5 yuan (roughly $0.60) and wondered, as I always do in these circumstances, whether I should have given more or nothing at all...

But now the city beckons once more. If nothing else, there are postcards to be written and street vendors' wares to be sampled.

Slideshow!

At long last...

This time next week, I'll be in Shanghai. In honour of this, and as an early Christmas present of sorts, I've put up a slideshow of selected photos from my Beijing trip. Enjoy.

And you read your Emily Dickinson, and I my Robert Frost

Points to anyone who catches the titular reference.

Over drinks at a friend's birthday party recently, discussion turned, in the improbably-hard-to-describe way that these things do, to student loans and the Booker Prize. Whether it was the champagne, my general lack of humility, or the fact that I possess Canadian, Irish and UK citizenship (making me thrice-eligible for the prize), I declared my intention to write a Booker Prize-winning novel and share the proceeds with the others to enable them to assist them with their edu-financial emancipation. While I did not specify the year in which my novel will take the literary world by storm, I am very aware of the fact that I am already 26, and thus have, by even particularly optimistic guesses, at best another 74 chances to win it. So there's much work to be done.

Setting aside any Booker aspirations, writing a novel is something I've always wanted to do. I have many beginnings, but few worth continuing. I have some ideas in mind, but I thought it would be fun to throw it to you, my faithful readers. What kind of novel should I write?

Please make your opinion known by voting in the poll in the sidebar. I do not promise to obey the wishes of my readers; truth be told, I suspect I already know which of the options provided will be the most popular, but I will take all votes and comments into consideration.

Confession

It's taken me a long time to get to a place where I feel comfortable admitting this, but I think I've been in denial long enough.

I don't like Korean food. There, I said it.

It's not to say that I don't like any Korean food, or that I am repulsed by it. Far from it. There are several dishes that are quite tasty, and I can generally find something edible at any of the restaurants near my apartment.

However, I remember going to a Korean supermarket in Toronto last Spring, and wandering the aisles with excitement and anticipation.

What does this package say?
What's in this box?
What are these ingredients for?
When I come back to Canada, I'll be able to cook all these great new dishes!

Sadly, no. This, in fact, is one of my greatest disappointments in Korea. I like food. A lot. I've eaten well on my travels in Mexico (taquitos from the street vendors), in Turkey (eggplant! and kebabs!), in Greece (eggplant again! and gyros dripping with tzatziki, and lamb stew), and Spain (where to begin? the tapas and the ham and the sangria and Portugal (codfish done six different ways, roast chicken, pasteis de belem). My one night in Japan, I had a delicous beefy brothy dish I won't even try to name. I'm already salivating at the thought of the cooking class I'll be taking in Thailand some six months from now. I like food.

Korean food, though...features seaweed. Prominently. And fish. But not fish in the way that I've come to like it. At a wedding buffet last weekend, breaded, fried, salmon fins were one of the options, and a popular selection at that.

I can eat the dried squid at the bar, and I do, but to me it tastes rubbery, vaguely fishy, and not all that appealing. The fish cakes that turn up in so many dishes here are chewy and flavourless. Much hot sauce is needed to make them palatable.

I'm disappointed, but it would be ridiculous for me to expect a country's cuisine to adapt itself to my palate. So I'm disappointed in me. I like the Korean bbq (dak galbi...mmm), and I like the dumplings, and some of the pastries. I like the Mongolian hot pot (which is also a Korean thing, name notwithstanding), but I haven't fallen in love with the everyday meals and the type of food my students eat on a regular basis. This annoys me.

But I've got another six months to get it right. Wish me luck.

Sundayosity

This Friday is the 6th mensiversary of my arrival in South Korea. Several things are happening or have already happened to mark the occasion:

-The mayor of Busan, Hur Nam-Sik, has declared next weekend to be a municipal holiday. There is to be a kimchi-tape parade downtown, and work will commence on a statue, 75m tall, in my likeness, to be placed on the summit of the highest mountain in the city.


-Kim Jong-Il is expected to resign as leader of North Korea and rededicate himself to his first love, yahtzee.

-I bought a winter jacket. In truth, this wasn't done specifically to commemorate my time here, but it seemed like a good idea, what with the encroachment of winter and so forth. The jacket itself is not entirely unattractive, should keep me reasonably warm, and was less than the price of a meal at a local Thai restaurant, assuming a glass of wine was consumed along with the food in said meal. So I'm satisfied with my purchase overall. What really, truly, delighted me about the jacket, though, is the descriptive blurb on the tag, reproduced here for your reading pleasure:

Leader's
The everything world mountain for acid is tracking, hiking, Seunosyuing, and until walking that is adventure and expression of travel in line of exploration! Offer everything. Experience culture that is different from nature and walk the earth. Express your happiness in step that step forward step by step. Open mind that is humble and respect. Finally, find your self, and supplement energy, and meet new place, the new world and new people and give meaning in your life at the street end.

I've been trying to stay away from posting about "konglish," as the Korean-English mishmash is known, for the simple reason that it's far too facile a topic to write about. It's a "what's the deal with airplane food" level of easy comedy, but the paragraph just appealed to me, and so I thought I'd share. Seunosyuing, incidentally, is snowshoeing, or so I would guess.

Last week's American Thanksgiving festivities were excellent. We bought a turkey dinner from The Seamen's Club, a USS centre which caters primarily to American military personnel and sailors, and it was delicious. My intended cheesecake was to be lime with a ginger snap crust, but due to supermarket restrictions it turned into a lemon cheesecake with a coconut cookie crust; also excellent, but my heart still prefers the lime.

Now that it's December, my thoughts have really started to trifurcate. I've been reflecting on the year gone by: North Bay, Kenya, Korea, and so on, thinking about my options for the second half of '08, while simultaneously wanting to stay grounded in the next 6 months. It's quite the juggling act, let me tell you. On the other hand, it's rare that I'm able to use "trifurcate," so this mollifies me somewhat.

More later today. Maybe.

Jeff's contribution to Yanksgiving dinner in Korea

(to nobody's great surprise)

Lemon Cheesecake
Makes 1-9 inch cheesecake (8 servings)

1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
6 tablespoons butter, melted

24 ounces cream cheese,

softened 1 cup white sugar

1 tablespoon com starch

3 eggs

1 tablespoon grated lemon zest 2/3 cup lemon juice

Directions

1 Combine cookie or graham cracker crumbs with butter or margarine. Press into bottom and partially up sides of 9 inch springform pan. Refrigerate.

2 In a large bowl, beat with an electric mixer the cream cheese, sugar, lime peel, and cornstarch untif smooth fluffy. Beat in eggs one at a time, blending just until smooth. Add key lime juice with mixer on low. Finish mixing by hand. Do not overbeat, or cake will crack during baking. Pour batter into prepared crust.

Bake at 300 degrees F (150 degrees C) for 55 to 65
minutes, or until set. To minimize cracking, place a shallow
pan half full of hot water on lower rack during baking.

Turn oven off, and let cheesecake stand in oven 30
minutes with the door open at least 4 inches. Remove from
oven. Refrigerate cake overnight, and up to three days.

Adam Asks A Waeguk, Vol. 6.4

The latest in an ongoing series:

Dear Waeguk,

If I were to watch the Korean equivalent of
Sportscentre, what sport would be most likely to
feature as the lead story? Does Korea have its own
versions of the NBA, NHL, MLB, etc? Professional
leagues or associations for any other sports? Is any
particular Korean athlete the LeBron of the bunch
(meaning the anointed and most favoured one)?

The Waeguk responds:

Adam,

Korea has its own versions of the NBA (the Korean Basketball League, or KBL), and its own Professional Baseball League. Ice hockey, on the other hand, is virtually unheard of, at least in Busan.

Interestingly, most of Korea's most famous athletes do not play in Korea. These include Park Ji-Sung, who plays for Manchester United in Great Britain's Premier League, as well as almost a dozen Koreans who play in North America's Major League Baseball. The best known of these is the Los Angeles Dodgers' Chan Ho Park. Manchester United is quite popular because of the Park Ji-Sung connection, but I don't there's an overwhelming allegiance to any particular baseball team.

Another popular sporting figure in South Korea is the 7'2" kickboxer Choi Hong-Man, who dwarfs just about everyone. Choi is well-known because of his massive size and impressive record in the ring, but even despite his personal appeal, kickboxing is not a particularly popular sport here.

Almost all of my male students, as well as a number of my female students, attend taekwondo classes on a regular basis; it's not uncommon for boys to come to school in their taekwondo uniforms.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 6.3

The third question comes from A. Christopher Garskey, formerly of Lindsay, Ontario. Mr. Garskey writes:

Dear Waeguk,

What is kimchi, and why would schoolchildren complain when it is dry? Also, I’ve heard positive reviews of Korean barbeque, but have never experienced it myself.
Have you indulged, and if so, what are your thoughts?
Also, have you noticed any seasonal changes in the local food?

The Waeguk Responds :

Kimchi is a staple of Korean cuisine. It's spicy pickled vegetables (most commonly cabbage), and is served with almost every meal. Most of my students will eat kimchi for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It's typically quite moist, and thus if it were dry schoolchildren would likely find it offensive to their finely honed palates.

As for Korean barbeque, it's one of my favourite types of food here in Korea. At the Korean barbeque restaurant I frequent most often, pork is the meat of choice. It's an almost bacon-like cut, brought raw to the table on plates piled high. Each table has its own little charcoal grill, and the meat is cooked with onions, hot peppers, garlic, and sliced potato. When done, one removes the bacon and vegetables from the grill and wraps it in mint or other leaves along with one's sauce of choice. It can be a bit messy at times, but is really quite delectable.

As for seasonal changes in the local food, I haven't noticed many as of yet. The persimmons and clementines are in season, and are being sold on the street along with the standards of fish and bananas, but I haven't yet detected any huge differences in the eating habits.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 6.2

The next question is from AC "Slater" Garskey in Ottawa, who writes:

"Dear Waeguk,

I recently heard that there are somewhere in the neighbourhood of 20 000 anglophones teaching English in Korea at the moment. Is the demand for any other languages strong in Korea, and if so, do you ever run into evidence of the presence of native speakers of those languages? (Note: by “evidence”, I more or less am thinking of observing young speakers of, say, French or Spanish on the subway who appear to be on their way to work or who appear to be somehow less transient than tourists. I’m not thinking along the lines of stool samples or footprints.) "

The Waeguk responds:

English is far and away the dominant second-language in Busan, and Korea as a whole. In terms of foreign-language education, the next most popular would likely be Mandarin, but it doesn't have even a tenth of the presence of English.

That's not to say that all the non-Koreans in Busan are anglophones, though. The interestingly-named Texas Street, for example, is home to Busan's Russian community, and many of the signs in the area are in the Cyrillic alphabet. I think the presence of the Russians is due largely to Busan's status as one of the major port cities in this corner of the world; Texas Street also plays host to a number of Indonesian and Philipino restaurants and is, or so rumour would have it, the recommended (and likely only) place to go for a Caucasian (possibly literally, in this case) prostitute.

There are a couple of French people in the Korean class which takes place before mine; I haven't spoken to them much, but I think they likely work for a multinational in the area, as I have seen absolutely no demand whatsoever for French teachers.

It has occurred to me on occasion that it would be amusing to procure myself a position as an English teacher in a rural area where nobody speaks the language, and proceed to teach the children French or Spanish instead, but the odds of my doing this are slim.

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 6.1

The first of several questions today comes from Sara-Jane in High Park, who asks if Hallowe'en is celebrated in Korea.


The Waeguk responds:

Korea has numerous holidays. Some of them, such as Chuseok, have deep roots in this country, while others, such as Christmas, are newer additions but have still been adopted by a significant proportion of the population. Then there's Halloween. This seems to be celebrated exclusively at the hogwan (English academies) and Wageuk bars. Korean children come to English school dressed in costume and receive and candy and may participate in certain Halloween-themed activities. However, it's done much in the spirit that a Canadian school might have, for example, an "International Day," wherein students will organize cultural activities from different nations. That is to say, Halloween in Korea is celebrated almost exclusively within the school, rather than within the community as a whole.

As for your faithful correspondent, I amazed and delighted my pupils with my interpretation of Wolverine, the X-Man. I made claws of cardboard and tinfoil, and the Kindergardeners especially were quite impressed. We also had a haunted house, which is to say: a classroom with the lights turned off,black garbage bags draped from the ceiling, and a cd of scary sounds playing. I was quite skeptical of our ability to scare anyone, but I had neglected to take into account the fact that our target audience was 5 years old. Many kids refused to take more than 2 steps into the room, and those who did enter were oft shocked to find the mannequins coming to life and jumping out at them. But rest assured, 'twas all in good fun.

sigh...

Things my kindergarten students are learning:

"What's he like? He's handsome and smart."

"What's she like? She's quiet and shy."

Ask A Waeguk, Vol. 5

Our latest question comes from Dave in Ontario, who is impressed at the news of the Waeguk's Korean lessons, and wonders whether they include the alphabet, and the Waeguk's thoughts thereon.

As always, the Waeguk responds:

I'm learning both written and spoken Korean, which is a bit of a challenge, but also something I'm quite enjoying. The Korean is relatively straightforward to learn, and in fact is something I had a decent understanding of even before beginning the lessons, insofar as being able to sound out words, though not necesssarily to understand them.

One of the interesting things about Korean is how poorly it's transliterated into the Roman alphabet. For example, I live in the city of Busan, but until quite recently I would have been living in the city of Pusan. There is no real distinction in Korean between the English p and b, l and r,and j and z. My students are wont to talk about the "Jewkeeper" rather than the "zookeeper," which is not a mistake that will serve them well in most parts of the English-speaking world.

Traditionally, Korean has been transliterated into the Roman alphabet using the McCune-Reischauer system, but over the past decade or so this has been phased out in favour of the Revised Romanization system, and this is the reason for the Pusan/Busan switch. Essentially, this means that there are easier and simpler ways of having one sound in Korean correspond to its partner sound in English, and showing this on paper.

Learning to read Korean has also helped me sympathize somewhat with some of the difficulties facing any learner of a new alphabet. Most frustrating? Fonts! I can read the Korean equivalent of Times New Roman fairly easily, but anything artsy or stylized throws me off immediately. Writing is also a challenge given that my handwriting isn't exemplary at the best of times and in my native tongue, but at least under those circumstances I can extrapolate from my notes with confidence. In Korean? Not so much.

On the other hand, three tenses total does make for one happy language student...

Got a question for the Waeguk? Ask him here.

Kansas, Toto, etc. Part Two

A few more thoughts on how I know I'm not in Canada...

A student brought a fairly realistic toy gun to class the other day, with a working laser sight on it. Rather than call the police or at least send him to the office, I told him to put it away, but not before I went to the class next door and pointed it at one of my colleagues through the window. In a similar twist, many of my students carry x-acto knives with them to sharpen their pencils. We haven't had any stabbings yet.

In Korean class, tonight we played "two truths and a lie." One of my truths was the following: I've met Wayne Gretzky. My teacher had never heard of him.

Cellphones work even in the subways here. Not only that, but I have a cellphone. This may be the most shocking development of all.

Kansas, Toto, and all that

After a while, life begins to consist of routines, patterns and habits. Every day in Korea is no longer to the filled to the brim with glorious epiphanies, touching moments of intercultural understanding, and moments of intense revelation. This is not to say that these do not occur, merely that the quotidian living is, perhaps, less exotic than some might imagine it to be.

Having said that, I do often experience many things which remind me, subtly or overtly, that I am no longer living in the shadow of the CN Tower...

On Saturday, one of the secretaries at our school got married, and all the teachers were invited to the wedding.

As I waited for my coworkers before heading over to the wedding, a group of boys aged 12 or 13 passed by. Despite my wearing sunglasses, they were somehow able to deduce my anglophone nature, and called out to me, "very handsome!" with thumbs raised to underline their approval. On the one hand, it's simply a case of kids seizing the chance to practice their English outside of class, but on the other, it's an instance of young males commenting favourably (and without sarcasm, I assure you), on the appearance of another male. It must be said, of course, that I do look damn good in a tie.

Korea is a very conservative and homophobic country- there are very, very few openly out people here, and paradoxically, it may be for this reason that men are much more affectionate towards one another than they would be in Canada. It's not at all uncommon to see teenage boys sitting on each other's laps in the subway, or holding hands as they walk down the street. Being gay is so unheard of that one is able to engage in such affectionate activities without the fear of being called gay because being gay isn't even an option...but back to the wedding.

In many respects, it was a fairly Western affair: the bride wore a white dress, the groom wore a tux, and it was held in a wedding hall not hugely dissimilar from ones one might find in Mississauga or Don Mills. A major difference, though, was evident before the wedding, as the bride sat in a small room off the lobby and guests were invited in to pose for pictures beside her. During the actual ceremony, the parents of the bride and groom sat in big chairs on either side of the happy couple, who bowed to each set of progenitors (I do love me some big words every so often) at the conclusion of the nuptials.

I had my first Korean lesson today. It's mightily exciting, after four months in the country, to be finally learning the language in a formal, organized manner. It was even more exciting to learn that Korean verbs have only three tenses, and that there is no conjugation as such- the ending is the same for each person- I am, you am, he am, we am, and so on. Furthermore, Korean is largely a contextual language, so "are you going to Seoul" is written the same way as "you are going to Seoul" would be, with the only difference being the inflection at the end of the sentence to indicate a question.

Apart from the obvious advantages of speaking the language of the country in which I live, I think that learning will also be give me a better grasp of the perspective of my students, a from the general sense of learning a new language, but also of the differences between English and Korean specifically. I look forward to learning more.

As you may be aware, the leaders of North and South Korea have just completed another summit- the second since the end of the Korean War. Unfortunately, my grasp of Korean politics is not much stronger than my grasp of the Korean language. It isn't something which my coworkers discuss at all at work, or at least not in language, and I'm perhaps too careful when asking about it, because the relationship between the Koreas does fascinate me so.

As I touched upon at the beginning of this post, Koreans and non-Koreans may be distinguished from one another by purely physical characteristics, at least 99 times out of one hundred. There is a not inconsiderable number of Westerners in Busan, but I would venture to guess that at least 90% of them are English teachers. This is interesting because, a) it means that almost all white people (and the vast majority of English teachers here are white) in Busan are between the ages of 22 and 3o, and b) there isn't the same level of integration or assimilation as would occur under more conventional immigration patterns. It's not at all rare to be stared on the subway or the street, especially by children. This puzzled me for a little while because the number of Westerners, while only a tiny fraction of the overall population, is still substantial enough that I generally see another waeguk or two every time I go downtown.

But while a small town in Northern Ontario, for example, may be (and here we'll pick some numbers out of a hat), 10% Native Canadian, with the rest of the town being Canadian of European descent except for "that one Chinese family," the point is that even in that small town, the Chinese family is a family. There will be Chinese-Canadian kids in that family, and they will go to school with the other kids, and hang out with them, and so on. There may be racism and suspicion and so on, but there is also a level of interaction that is unusual here. The Western teachers and the Korean teachers may and do hang out, but there are no family picnics or family softball games, for the simple fact that there are almost no Western children here. It isn't rare to see white people (as mentioned, almost always between the ages of 22 and 30), but it's almost unheard of to see white children. A few months ago I was at the beach and hanging with a couple from Oregon who had their two small, blonde children with them. The kids fell asleep under a beach umbrella, and more than one Korean came up and asked to take their photo.

We are migrant workers, though more by choice than by necessity. Most teachers here will leave after a year. Some will stay on for a little while, but the vast majority will return within 3 years to Canada, the U.S., or whatever other corner of Anglophonia from whence they came.

And those are my thoughts for the day.

The waeguk is wondering if he's already answered all the possible questions you could have. If no, feel free to ask.

also worth a quick glance...

...is this.

Attention, Comrades

Warning: This entry may be a bit of a ramble.

How to describe the Beijing trip?

The easiest way might be by comparison. Today (Monday), I spent the day teaching English to children.

Last Monday, I climbed the Great Wall of China.

Of course, the comparison isn't fair, since vacation time outranks non-vacation by definition alone.

To evaluate the trip, then, we need to break it down into its base components:
the tour and the city.

Let's start with the tour.

As most people who are reading this probably know, I am not entirely bereft of experience in the group travel industry. Most of that experience, however, has come from the tour guide perspective, rather than that of the customer.

Anyhow, the tour was good. Not great, but very good. The essence of group tours, though, is such that to a large degree very good is the best you can hope for, in the sense that there will always be questions of time allocation and sights to see, etc, so you aim to please as many of the people as often as you can. Had I been on my own, I wouldn't have gone to the tea shop or the jade factory, but then neither would I have been staying in a 5 star hotel out in the suburbs of Beijing. I've always been happy with hostels- they're cheap, centrally located, though they don't have the swimming pools and bowling alleys our hotel did.

It was fun meeting new people and making some friends, but I've decided to prefer make my own through a new place, exploring at my leisure and at my own pace. While it's convenient simply to be told to be back at the bus at a certain time, it also removes a considerable of the chunk of the free-spirited wanderer mythos with which I strive to imbue myself at all times.

Beijing, then. The Forbidden City (home of the Chinese Royal Family for countless years) reminded me a lot of Versailles simply because of the sheer size and arrogance of the operation. "L'état, c'est moi," indeed. The thing that has often amazed me about monarchies is not so much the fact that people throughout history have proclaimed themselves definely superior to the masses, but that the masses have acquiesced and agreed with them. And while I realize that a large part of this was determined by which hand was holding the sword, let's face it- there was (generally) only one Emperor at a time, but he (and on occasion, she) controlled a hell of a lot of sword-holders.

But yeah. Setting aside the political thoughts (I've always maintained that standing in front of Versailles is the easiest way to understand the reasons for the French Revolution), the Forbidden City is fascinating because of its size...and here I was going to offer some thoughts of dubious originality and interest, but I've just come to the decision that even if it is possible to eliminate politics and social philosophy from the picture, to do so would be absurd and/or irresponsible. The entire palace complex (all 720,000 square metres) was constructed to hold the source of absolute power, and if you fail to acknowledge that when beholding, you are missing out on human history at its most basic.

The Great Wall of China can be viewed through much the same lens, but offers more panoramic and astoundingly scenic photos. Lots of stairs, and a definite highlight of the trip. For me, at least, the Wall was symbolic of an empire with all the positive and negative connotations therein, while I found the Forbidden City to offer more food for thought on human hierarchy and our willingness to subjugate ourselves to others, or have them do so to us. But what do I know.

The Great Wall of China goes on forever, if not in the literal sense then in the figurative. We didn't climb it for very long, but it was enough to get the slightest glimpse of the immense time and effort that went into its building.

From a tourist point of view, the Great Wall and the Forbidden City are the two structures that will remain at the forefront of my memories, but a conversation I had on the last night definitely bears mentioning.

A few of us tourists were making our way to the hotel bar when we noticed our tour guide at the front desk, and so we invited her to have a beer with us. It wasn't a particularly long discussion, but it meandered well, as all great discussions do. We were asking her for her thoughts on the present and the future of China, and in a nutshell this is what she said:

"when you look at China, you see a lot of problems. We don't have free speech, and people are thrown into jail for criticizing the government. But for us, we see that this is the best it's been in a thousand years."

It's an interesting way of looking at the situation. Not to look at it history in terms of years or decades or even centuries, but millennia. It's a slow, gradual, process. That day we had taken a rickshaw tour of a hutong, a traditional Beijing neighbourhood, and we had met a septuagenarian who lived there. I asked what was the greatest change she had seen since she was a child, and she replied that now food is plentiful and affordable.

Is this Mao's doing? Would China have better evolved under free-market capitalism? I have no idea.

I've picked up a biography of Mao, though, and hopefully that will give me some clues.

I'll try to come back to this and add more thoughts and commments over the next couple of days, so if you come back to reread this don't be surprised if it's been changed in some way.