Eric's Beijing Diary

Living. No matter what you do in life, sooner or later (usually sooner) you have to get down to the business of living. Taking a new job in a new city involves not only the process of getting used to a new work environment, but the arduous process of figuring out how and where you are going to live--buying a house or renting an apartment, trying to find a location that is not too inconvenient for your work situation.

One of the reasons I tended to gravitate toward a University setting is because they take care of that sort of thing for you. My apartment is not what I would call fancy, but, for a single person, it is a very nice place. One of the first things I noticed when I came here, was the hot water radiators. Radiant heat is passe in the States now; you don't see too much of it anymore. But I really do prefer radiant heat in a cold weather climate. It's more natural for one thing. But there is something about forced air heat that tends to aggravate my alergies for some reason. In Arizona, when I was lying in bed at night, I would find myself wincing every time the fan kicked on. I would invariably cough all winter. After I moved to this apartment, my cough disappeared in a few days, and it hasn't been back.

There are no carpets on the floors, and boy am I glad! Carpets are a nuisance. They are a magnet for dirt, and hard to keep clean. 'Course, I suppose it depends on what your expectations are. I sold vacuum cleaners for a short time in one of my past lives. I remember I was showing a Rainbow vacuum cleaner to a lady out by Ray or Tioga once. I ran it across the floor, and then turned it off and showed her the pile of grit and grime that had gathered in the bottom of the pan. With a water filter cleaner like Rainbow, the effect is quite dramatic. We're not just talking about a little dust, but enough sand and gravel to pour a concrete driveway. OK, that's a slight exageration, but there really was quite a bit of sand in that lady's carpet. She shrugged and gave me a look that said, "It's the floor. What did you expect?"

Here the floors are tile. In the bathroom it is actual stone tile, but in the rest of the house I am not really sure what they are made of. Large tiles, about two feet by two feet. The cleaning lady I hired mops the floor every two weeks, and that's all it takes.

One end of my bedroom is a sliding glass door that leads to a small covered porch. The porch is quite private, because I am on the 14th floor, and there really isn't any way for people to see what I am doing, as if they cared. Under the porch roof are two rods where I hang my laundry. I don't have a washing machine. I have to use the one in the floor manager's office a couple doors down. There is no dryer, but I really don't need one, because the air is pretty dry in Beijing, so my clothes dry pretty quickly when I hang them on the line.

My kitchen is very small, which is a good thing, because I have absolutely no use for it whatsoever. The bathroom includes a small shower area at one side. I have a flow-through water heater, which provides me a hot shower in the morning. And I have three cafeterias within a few paces from my building.

I have certainly seen nicer places than this, but not better locations. I have been to residential communities designed for the expat community, and they are very nice, but I wouldn't want to live there myself. It is my belief that if you have a family, you should be with your family, so I guess I would have to say that they are nice for a family with a bunch of kids. But for a single person, a residential community like that would be a little bit like going to prison. It's a very long taxi ride out there, and once you get there, there is absolutely nothing there except an ordinary American style neighborhood.

Location is a pretty big part of where you choose to live. The foreign teachers apartments are located right next to the north gate of Beihang. About a half mile from here, up by the Wudaoko station, is the Lush, which serves American style breakfasts. Tsinghua University is just around the corner. East of the Lush, and on the same street, is BLCU (Beijing Language and Culture University). If you go the other direction instead, you will come to a T in the road, right at Beida (Peking University). Hang a left, and another ten minutes will take you to Renmin Daxue (People's University). From the Wudaoko station, you can take the commuter train to the subway, which will take you anywhere in the city. I don't have a car, but I don't need one. The combination ticket for the commuter train and subway is five yuan, and a bus ticket is one yuan.

I went to the Haidian Protestant Church today. I had been given the name and address by a friend. The first two cab drivers I talked to had not idea how to get there. The third one did some checking, and finally figured out how to take me there. I got to the place at 8 am, and stood in a long line for about a half hour. Finally we were ushered in. I was given a small FM receiver for the English translation. It didn't work very well--short or something. Strange how a limitation like language can focus your attention on what's important. I started trying to see how many times I could hear the name of Jesus. After all, that's what really counts.

I have often been told that the government churches are just a bunch of old people. Well, it is partly true. But they are very nice old people. Besides, the way I look at it, one of these days I'll be old, and then how will I feel if someone says "The church is just a bunch of old people." And they weren't all old. The guy leading the music looked to be in his twenties. And it sure was nice to hear the beautiful old hymns that are never played in church anymore. Some would say that the Chinese could learn from American churches about how to be a bit more contemporary. But I'm not sure. Somehow I have become weary of all the hype of an American mega-church. I think I'm ready to leave it behind me. Of course, I couldn't read the words in the hymn book, but I could recognize the music. When I got home, I went to cyberhymnal.org and got the words. Before you know it, I'll have my own hymn book. Hope they don't mind me singing in English.

All for Jesus, all for Jesus!
All my being’s ransomed powers:
All my thoughts and words and doings,
All my days and all my hours.

Steel. Chinese demand for steel is driving up the price worldwide. China already consumes one third of the world's steel supply, and is now paying top dollar for what used to be considered scrap. In America the price of steel is up 70% in some places.

This insatiable appetite for steel is due to the boom in China's economy, which has created a tremendous growth in large scale commercial construction. It's virtually impossible to look out the window in Beijing and not see a crane. I just looked out my bedroom window and counted eight of them. I'm not sure how I feel about how all this frenzied building is going to affect the landscape. One of the most common complaints is that many traditional buildings are being wiped out in favor of quick new high rises. I think I am a little more concerned about what this tremendous move to the cities will do to them. The three great business centers in China are Beijing, Shanghai, and Shenzen. Shenzen is very much a fabricated city. It was built to facilitate trade with Hong Kong after Deng Xiaoping's economic reforms. But Beijing and Shanghai are traditional Chinese cities that are being drastically changed by the current economic boom. And they are doing crazy things to adjust. Shanghai has decared that bicycles and motorcycles will be outlawed. I don't think that would fly very well in Beijing. But Beijing has problems of it's own. The tremendous increase in personal automobiles has clogged the freeways. This was aleviated a bit when they decided to remove the toll from the fifth ring road, but it can still be pretty bad. Fortunately, I don't have a car, so it really doesn't affect me, but I do wonder where it will all lead.

Hast thou no scars, no hidden scar on foot or side or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land,
I hear them hail thee, bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?
No wound, no scar, yet as the Master shall the servant be,
And pierced are the feet that follow thee,
But thine are whole.
Can he have followed far who has no wound nor scar?

Amy Carmichael

The Oracle lab class is going pretty well. There are definitely some differences. In Arizona, I had a lab with 15 computers. Here I have a lab with 128 computers. It sounds worse than it is, because there are only 90 students in the class, but that is still quite a large number for a lab. Fortunately, they are generally pretty bright students. BUAA is rated by the government as a "top 15" university, so Beihang does not accept any students who score below the 98th percentile on the national entrance exams. At my previous university in Arizona, I designed lab worksheets for each lab. That approach just isn't practical here. What I did here was to create an intranet website that can be acccessed from any computer in the lab. The website has the lab procedures, which are basically a detailed set of instructions. I walk students through the process, explaining the concepts. Then I encourage them to work with the lab until they are comfortable with it. The next week, I give them a multiple choice quiz, which is hosted on Discovery School. That website is blocked for the students, but fortunately I found a student who had a whole bunch of proxy IP's, so I am able to help them get around it. After the students take the quiz online and submit it, the results are sent to my email address by Discovery School. I can also go to Discovery School myself and get a log matching each student's student number with the time they began the quiz, the time they finished the quiz, and their score. Makes life a lot easier.

Well, I just had my last visit to the dentist. An old crown fell out a few weeks ago. I wasn't sure what to do about a dentist. There is an American dentist out at Beijing United Hospital, but they charge American rates, so that was out of the question. I thought about just finding one locally, but I don't speak Chinese, so that could be a bit of a challenge. I asked around and heard about one not too far from here--recommended to me by an Australian English teacher. This place was probably somewhere in the mid range, because the students who showed me how to get there said, "only rich people go here." And I never had to wait more than five minutes for an appointment. Its part of a chain called "Arrail Dental." I found the place in a new office building about ten minutes from the north gate by bicycle. The soft-spoken dentist, Dr. Christina Wu, was very professional, and spoke impeccable English. Sixteen hundred for the porcelain crown, six hundred for the post...some xrays...it came to about 2300RMB. That's about 275 US dollars.

I went to npr.org this morning to listen to Bush's speech. I think he makes a good case for the war on terrorism, but he is having a hard time getting past the fact that there were no weapons of mass destruction. If they don't find them pretty soon, I'm afraid Bush is history.

Tutors. I wish I had time to study Mandarin full time, but I don't. So I interviewed three tutors. Couldn't make up my mind, so I hired all three of them. From time to time I hear people talk about exchange agreements where they exchange instruction teaching eachother their own language. From an educational standpoint, I am not in favor of this kind of arrangement. If you can't make up your mind who is teaching whom, you usually end up with a little bit of everything and a whole lot of nothing.

This morning I went to BICF. After church I met a guy from Nigeria. He was referred to me because he had been asking for money. I talked to him a bit...seems he came here on a 30 day tourist visa, hoping to get a job. Now his visa has run out, and he said an "agent" told him he could get one for 6000RMB. This is a common story. Lots of people coming to China these days from all over the world. It is commonly known that unemployment in Nigeria is very, very high. I don't know the latest figure, but the last time I heard it was 40%. It's very hard to know what to do. I didn't know how to tell him that his chances for getting a job teaching English are not good. I could understand his English well enough, but it isn't exactly what Chinese English schools are looking for.

Tonight I was studying and forgot about supper. The cafeteria was closed when I left the coffeeshop at 10 pm, so I stopped by Kentucky Fried Chicken. There are quite a few of these in China, now. A new Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant opens every other day in China. These places took a hit during the bird flue scare, but that didn't last long.

I was with John and Mei-Chi yesterday and they wanted to get some ice cream. I was thinking maybe an ice cream bar would be good, and I saw one that said, "While closing your eyes, let ice-cream slips with water-mouthing moment. Feeling of silky touch or some cozy jazz." I couldn't resist.

I signed up for a course in Hermeneutics at BICF School of Ministry. But I decided to pass on it for now. Just too much on my plate right now. Maybe later. Then again, maybe not. Actually, I'm thinking of going to a Chinese church. Students sometimes ask me what I'm doing on Sunday morning. When I tell them that I am going to an international church, they want to go with me. I have to tell them they can't come. It's for foreign passport holders only. That troubles me.

Well, I hired a cleaning lady today, and I have to be here when she is cleaning, so I have some time to write. Fourteen Kwai for two hours. A little less than two dollars. You wouldn't think that a place would get this messy after only two months, especially since I'm not here that much. But it does. I think I'll have her come every two weeks. I had some students over here once, and Bulu said, "You need someone to collect your apartment." It's just one of those things.

In other news, I started my Oracle lab Wednesday. Two months to the day since I arrived in Beijing. I think it's going to be a good thing. I stressed to students that in the Oracle lab, we are going to be moving from practice to theory, rather than the other way around. This is perhaps different from what they are used to, but I think the new approach will be welcome.

So here is how it stacks up so far: Monday I am assisting with Dr. Sun, the dean of the College, in a database theory course he is teaching for the IC design students. Dr. Sun is a tenured professor at a university in Florida, so he is running a joint degree program with that institution. On Wednesday, I am conducting the lab portion of this course, which is Oracle specific. I am offering six labs over six weeks which will address the Oracle database architecture. The end of April, I will start a course which is devoted exclusively to Oracle and Oracle DBA certification. This will be offered to the Software Engineering majors in the college. For the time being, the Oracle courses are going to be restricted to graduate students, which is probably not a bad idea, since their English proficiency is pretty good.

On Thursday and Friday I am teaching Technical English at an overflow campus in Langfang. This is an oral English class, but the administration really wants to emphasize proficiency with technical English. The book they gave me was OK from a technical standpoint, but it was not good teaching English, so I dispensed with it. I went to How Stuff Works and printed out a bunch of articles. This stuff is much closer to what I need. But when it comes down to it, what students really need is to be simply taking a technical course like Oracle in a lab environment. This, more than anything, will get them comfortable with working in English.

Been fighting a cold lately. In Langfang, the student advisors were concerned about me (overly concerned) so one of them took me to the clinic, where they loaded me up with herbal medicine. Don't know if that stuff can cure the common cold, but it sure makes me feel better.

I go to Langfang every week to teach Technical English. They are very bright students, but a little shy. It's hard to get them to speak up. If I ask a specific question of a specific person, he or she will stand respectfully and try to answer. But this isn't what I want. I am trying to generate a free flowing discussion. Well, this week I departed from technology and gave them an essay called, "The Girl with the Nameless Face." That seemed to do the trick. Students who usually sat quietly suddenly became very animated and vocal. Something about the subject touched a nerve. Of course they are all studying technology, and the administration really wants them to be comfortable "doing technology" in English. That is the primary motivation which launched the Software Colleges Initiative in the first place. But young people just don't get visceral about technology. So I had to depart from the script a bit, and give them something that would bring them out a little. Here's the essay:




THE GIRL WITH THE NAMELESS FACE

By Eric Langager

I was eleven years old. We were living in the city of Honjo, on the Japan Sea coast. We were moving. Our house in rural Honjo had been destroyed by fire a few months earlier, and we were moving to Akita. We had taken up temporary residence in the unused home of another American family in Honjo. Although we had only been in that house for a few months, we had made friends with the kids in the neighborhood, and some of them had come to say goodbye.

I look back on that short period of time that we lived in that neighborhood, and the time we spent with the kids in the neighborhood. They would come over after school, to "hang out" with the foreign kids, and we, of course, were always happy to see them. We didn't really do anything that important--mainly playing hopscotch, or some other popular outdoor kids game, and talking. It is interesting that today I remember a group of kids, but I don't remember specific kids. This is probably because we only lived in that neighborhood for a very short period. So they didn't really stick in my mind as individuals.

Except one. She was the kid who never played with us. I guess I noticed her for this reason, and because she lived right across the street. I really couldn't figure out why she was so unfriendly. She would come home from school, and occasionally I would see her glance briefly in our direction. Then she went inside. But she never came over. She never crossed the street. She never joined the laughing, playing group of kids that gathered in front of our house. As I mentioned, I had no way of knowing why she never played with us. Perhaps her parents didn't like Americans. Or perhaps she wasn't interested in the trivial street games that occupied our time. At the time, I didn't spend a lot of time trying to figure it out. I guess I just thought maybe she was a little strange.

Until moving day. The truck was backed into our small yard. It was quite obvious to anyone who walked by that we were moving. We had told our friends about our move, and some of them had come to say goodbye. I remember that morning like it was yesterday. I was climbing a tree in the front yard, waiting for things to get started. I guess I wanted to take one last look around the neighborhood. For me, it was goodbye to a neighborhood where we had only lived for a few months. But it was also goodbye to a city where we had lived for the past two years, in our country home five minutes from one of the most incredible swimming beaches I have ever seen. We had a small plot of land in the country, and Dad had built a little red barn, which we filled with chickens, and pigeons and rabbits. In the fall, we would spend endless hours hiking with our dog through the pine forests along the sea by our house. In the winter, we would build forts in the attic, or strap on our skis, and head out across the countryside. In the spring, we waited impatiently while a hen in the barn warmed a bunch of eggs for what seemed an eternity. We played with the little chicks, and watched them grow. In the summer, we would walk to the beach with a sand bar that went out for maybe half a mile. We would pass the hours swimming in the warm waters of the Sea of Japan. It was a life we never wanted to be over. And then came the fire. It started in Dad's office, when a kerosene heating stove ignited. I don't know for sure what happened--perhaps a leak of some kind. Or perhaps the stove just got too hot. I don't know. But Dad's office soon became a raging inferno, and the rest of the house was beyond hope of being saved. Our life in Honjo was over.

So we were moving. Leaving it all behind. The new place we were moving to was not unfamiliar to me, because it was the site of the boarding school, where I had been living during the week for the past four years. So I would not have to deal with the adjustment that normally accompanies such moves. As I sat in that tree, there was neither the anxiety nor excitement that one normally feels about going to a new place. There was only the sorrow I felt at the thought of leaving a place that I somehow knew would never again be my home.

And then I saw her. I mean the kid from across the street. She was running across the street to our house! Needless to say, I was quite surprised at this, and didn't know what to think of it. But what happened next left me absolutely flabbergasted. Without knocking, she opened the door to our house and ran inside! The sight was so completely unlike what one would expect from a polite Japanese, that I couldn't quite believe it was happening. A split second later she darted out of our house, leaving the door to slam behind her, and ran back to the safety of her house as if she were in peril for her life!


Confused, and still quite astonished by the sight, I climbed down from the tree and headed for the house. When I entered the "genkan," my father was standing holding a small package that had been left by the girl across the street. Inside the package were two little pencil boxes, one for my sister Melody, and one for me. Why? Why did she give us these gifts? We had never done anything for her. What motivated her to go to this trouble for a couple of kids she didn't even know, and would never see again?

All things are not as they appear. She had never played with us. But oh, how she had wished she could have! She had never been our friend. But she had wanted so many times to bridge that gap--never quite daring, and never quite knowing how. Of course, we never invited her, but we never invited anyone. Kids don't need invitations. But she did. She needed an invitation. Kids are different. They are not all the same. She was too proper to impose herself on folks without their consent. She was....well, I will just say it again simply: She needed to be invited. Instead, we shrugged our shoulders and wondered why she didn't come over.

Now we were leaving. We would never see her again. We would not write letters--we didn't even know each other. She had never been our friend, yet, in some ways, she was the best friend we never had. So many kids came to play. But only one of them brought a gift. The little girl with the nameless face. Who was she? I don't know. Why didn't she play with us? I don't know. What wall, or obstacle, or secret fear kept her from bridging the gap? I don't know. But she proved herself to be a deeper, richer personality than all of the others. All things are not as they appear.

1. Why do you think this little girl didn’t want to play?

2. Have you ever been in a situation where you felt “left out” of a group of kids? Describe your feeling?

3. What do you think we could have done differently that might have included this little girl in our activities?

4. Do you think she really wanted to play with us? Are there some kids who would rather be by themselves?

5. If you were me, and you had a chance to meet this girl again, what would you say to her?

6. What kinds of things can parents or other adults do that can help make sure that children are not “left out.”

7. This essay is about a little girl. But what about "grown ups?" Do they ever feel "left out?" Do you ever feel "left out?"

8. What is your approach when you feel that you are not being included in a group you would like to be part of?

9. What kinds of things make any of us identify with one group over another? Aren’t we all human? Then why do we think in terms of "us" and "them?"

10. What implications does this essay have for larger groups, like countries. Are there ever situations where a whole nation of people can feel "left out?" What can be done about this?

Writer Philip Yancey was speaking yesterday on "The Agony of Victory and the Thrill of Defeat." He was in Beijing for a weekend seminar hosted by BICF. I didn't have time to go to the seminar, but I was interested to hear what he had to say. I haven't really been a big fan of Philip Yancey--he isn't what I would call an expository preacher. But I have to admit, he is a pretty good story teller. He was juxtaposing the life of David with the woman who washed the feet of Jesus.

It's kinda ironic, because I had just been thinking about David. I have been doing a study of the historical books, and I was impressed with the way God approaches Solomon and tells him of all the blessing that would be his if he would "walk before me, as David thy father walked, in integrity of heart, and in uprightness..." (2 Kings 9:4). It is really a statement of God's mercy, because we all know some things about David that might cause us to question such words of praise.

Then Saturday night at a Bible study, a guy handed me this book out of the blue called "The Making of a Man of God." British writer by the name of Alan Redpath. It's a study of the life of David. So I was somehow not surprised when Philip Yancey chose to talk about David. His whole theme was an attempt to answer the question that so naturally comes to mind as to why God saw David with such favor even after all he had done. Yancey went through several of the Psalms, and explained them in the light of what was happening in the life of David at the time they were written. Over and over again, one gets a picture of a man whose focus is on God, and the part He plays in the molding of our lives. In spite of everything, David truly was a man after God's own heart.

Saturday morning at the Lush. The first time I came here was less than a week after I arrived in China. I had been without coffee for about four days, and I was in serious withdrawall. After a few minutes, I noticed that I was "guarding" my coffee. I must have looked like I was ready to pulverize the first person who would try to take it from me. I really was addicted to that stuff. I still like coffee as much as I always did. But I drink a lot less of it now. Fortunately, I really do like tea.

This place is run by a Kiwi who has been in China about 5 years. I asked him if there were a lot of Kiwis in China. He said there weren't a lot of Kiwis anywhere. He's right. I have met a lot of Australians here, but only a couple of folks from New Zealand. He's not always here on weekends, because he has a place in the country out by the Wall. During the week, I usually eat at a local "working man's" restaurant near the campus. This is a bit further, and a lot more expensive, but I usually come here for bacon and eggs on Saturday. Costs 30 kwai, almost four US dollars. The breakfast I get on weekdays costs 3-4 kwai--about fifty cents.

At this place, expats kinda drift in and out through the day. I never come here in the evening, because they turn down the lights, and the place adopts more of a bar atmosphere. I am a reader. Once the lights go down and I can't read, I have no more reason to be here. But for breakfast, this place is nice. I try to get here early, and I generally have the place to myself.

I'm sitting here in my hotel in Langfang. I come here two days a week to teach a technical English class. I am going to be doing the database stuff on Monday and Wednesday in Beijing. But the Software College, which is less than two years old, is growing very rapidly, and there is not enough room for the incoming freshmen. They are in the process of building more space, but it won't be ready until next semester. It's all part of the massive change that is taking place in the university structure in China. Beihang Univesity (Beijing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics) is not new. It has been around since 1952. But two years ago, the Beijing government commissioned 35 universities in China to set up software colleges. The freshmen are allocated by the government from the pool of entering freshmen from all over China. The software college gets about 200 of them each year. The graduates are recruited independently, which means there is no official limit on how many graduates the Software College can take in. Anyway, I was asked to teach Technical English on the overflow campus. I am not enthusiastic about being away from Beijing, because it takes me away from the lab, and I need lots and lots of time for preparation for the Oracle course. But they were good enough to give me a motel room so that I don't have to spend too much time traveling. And fortunately, the hotel offers a breakfast, so I can work on my laptop in my room; I don't have to rush back to the campus. Not much I can say about breakfast. People in China always ask me if I like Chinese food. I always tell them that I like American breakfasts, but for lunch or dinner I tend to like Japanese or Chinese food. Not that I don't like American suppers. I have eaten plenty of American buffet dinners, especially when I was in the trucking industry. And Uncle Johnny wouldn't know how to make Chinese food, but his Norwegian American dinners were absolutely incredible. But getting back to the point--I really like Chinese dinners, if I am with someone who knows how to order. But the breakfast thing is very new to me. I am not used to eating cold wet vegetables for breakfast. It looked really healthy, though, and as a matter of principle I never turn down healthy food. I think it's immoral to turn down healthy food. The first time I came here, they gave me a jar of strawberry jam with my meal. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with it, since they didn't give me a knife to spread it with, or a piece of bread to put it on. But not to let a good thing go to waste, I dug a little out with my chopsticks and put it on my mantou. The past couple weeks they have actually been giving me a few slices of bread. First bread I've had since I came to China. If anyone knows what I'm supposed to do with the raw egg, let me know. I think it would have been easier if they just left it in the shell--then I could suck it out. Today I decided to pour it in the bowl of warm milk they usually give me. I mixed it up. Eggnog. Or french toast batter. Anyway, it's not too bad. Bu cuo.