Floating lanterns
On our final evening in Weihai, I took a long walk on the beech. The weather was was clear but somewhat breezy, so the conditions were perfect for launching floating lanterns. The lanterns are made from oiled rice paper and work the same way as hot air balloons. A small candle is inserted into the lantern, after which it is launched on a current of air. Like flying a kite, this process involves considerable skill.
Beaches are perfect for launching floating lanterns because there's considerable space and good wind. Last night, there were several groups of young men working with these bright missiles. The lanterns can travel pretty high, and may appear as small yellow dots against the sky.
I was a professor of curriculum and instruction at East Tennessee State University and am now in emeritus status. Currently, I teach English composition part-time at George Mason University. I have taught in Cincinnati, Turkey, China and the Czech Republic.
Friday, July 09, 2010
It's Different This Year
Traditionally, Chinese education has been a solemn, structured affair. Respect for teachers is high; student autonomy is low; and there's a big focus on memorization. Teachers lecture, and the students regurgitate what we say. But the kids are different now, and the system is changing.
Four years ago, I taught at the University of Shandong at Weihai. Apart from a few new buildings, the place looks the same. But there's a different feel to the place. The students are much more willing to question, to speak up. And they're being encouraged to be creative.
This was particularly apparent at the recent American and European Cultural festival where students were asked to create posters and skits representing Western Culture.
Above: Poster from the exhibition; Joe and I receive a present from Santa Claus.
Below: Students dressed as Napoleon and Josephine; Young men in cowboy hats dancing while singing "Yankee Doodle."
Traditionally, Chinese education has been a solemn, structured affair. Respect for teachers is high; student autonomy is low; and there's a big focus on memorization. Teachers lecture, and the students regurgitate what we say. But the kids are different now, and the system is changing.
Four years ago, I taught at the University of Shandong at Weihai. Apart from a few new buildings, the place looks the same. But there's a different feel to the place. The students are much more willing to question, to speak up. And they're being encouraged to be creative.
This was particularly apparent at the recent American and European Cultural festival where students were asked to create posters and skits representing Western Culture.
Above: Poster from the exhibition; Joe and I receive a present from Santa Claus.
Below: Students dressed as Napoleon and Josephine; Young men in cowboy hats dancing while singing "Yankee Doodle."
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Your Ancestry's Showing
Weihai, where I am teaching now, is located on a penisula in North China, across the Yellow Sea from Korea. It's got a nice beach, and a lot of Russians vacation here, which accounts for the bilingual signs (above).
Russians assume I am one of them, not American, and start speaking to me in their language. And actually, it isn't surprising-- all four of my grandparents were from Eastern Europe.
Weihai, where I am teaching now, is located on a penisula in North China, across the Yellow Sea from Korea. It's got a nice beach, and a lot of Russians vacation here, which accounts for the bilingual signs (above).
Russians assume I am one of them, not American, and start speaking to me in their language. And actually, it isn't surprising-- all four of my grandparents were from Eastern Europe.
Ties that bind
We are now at the University of Shandong at Weihai. Teaching conditions are less favorable here than they are in Beijing, but relationships draw us. Likely, we'll spend more time here next summer than the single week we have this year.
We are particularly fond of the workers at the Weihai Church (see above), and Joe would like more time with them so he could help with their work. Their theology is far more rigid than mine, but these are very good people, folks who've let goods and kindred go so they could share their faith.
We are now at the University of Shandong at Weihai. Teaching conditions are less favorable here than they are in Beijing, but relationships draw us. Likely, we'll spend more time here next summer than the single week we have this year.
We are particularly fond of the workers at the Weihai Church (see above), and Joe would like more time with them so he could help with their work. Their theology is far more rigid than mine, but these are very good people, folks who've let goods and kindred go so they could share their faith.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Retirement: The Calendar Decides
I am often asked why I'm still working, with the implication that I'm too old.Chinese men must retire at 60. For women, the age is 55. A person's last day of work is his or her birthday.
Manual laborers may be grateful to stop work and collect their government pensions. But for academics and other professionals, this isn't always the case.
A woman we know, a university librarian lapsed into deep depression after her forced retirement and had to be hospitalized. The pheonmenon, which is common here, is called Post-Retirement Syndrome, a term less often used in the U.S. where people have more control over when they retire.
China is over-populated; unemployment is high; and university graduates have trouble finding good jobs. Forcing the old to move on is an obvious, if brutal solution. It parallels the one child per couple policy and is just as detested..
In this society, one often sees senior citizens doing Tai Chi, playing Mah Jong in the parks, or dancing traditional dances. People may care for the grand kids while the adult children go off to work. But there is no well established structure for volunteering or otherwise sharing one's long experience with others, and people may feel redundant and become depressed.
On this Independence Day weekend, we may consider that the right to work as long as we wish is an aspect of Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
I am often asked why I'm still working, with the implication that I'm too old.Chinese men must retire at 60. For women, the age is 55. A person's last day of work is his or her birthday.
Manual laborers may be grateful to stop work and collect their government pensions. But for academics and other professionals, this isn't always the case.
A woman we know, a university librarian lapsed into deep depression after her forced retirement and had to be hospitalized. The pheonmenon, which is common here, is called Post-Retirement Syndrome, a term less often used in the U.S. where people have more control over when they retire.
China is over-populated; unemployment is high; and university graduates have trouble finding good jobs. Forcing the old to move on is an obvious, if brutal solution. It parallels the one child per couple policy and is just as detested..
In this society, one often sees senior citizens doing Tai Chi, playing Mah Jong in the parks, or dancing traditional dances. People may care for the grand kids while the adult children go off to work. But there is no well established structure for volunteering or otherwise sharing one's long experience with others, and people may feel redundant and become depressed.
On this Independence Day weekend, we may consider that the right to work as long as we wish is an aspect of Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
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