Eric's Beijing Diary

You're not going to believe this, but I was up in Wudaoko having breakfast this morning, and I found a cockroach swimming around in my coffee. I made him get out.

Today I made an interesting observation as I was teaching the freshmen in Langfang. I was trying to explain the basic principle of hydraulic systems to them, and I used, as an example, the hoist that is used to lift cars off the ground for service at a service station. None of them had any idea what I was talking about. It's just not part of their experience. Perhaps it's not too much of a problem, because these kids are going to be software engineers, and they definitely do know computers. Later, I was reading an article for them out of the China Daily, and I noticed one student playing with his laptop. I didn't think he would be able to concentrate very well on what he was supposed to be listening to if he was also working on his computer, so I told him to turn it off, and then noticed, to my surprise, that he was reading the same article that I was. He had a wireless internet connection, and had gone to the China Daily website as soon as I began reading so that he could follow along with me.

I'm a doctor. At least that's what they told me today. They took me to a hospital and sat me down in a conference room with some other doctors. Top specialists in their fields. I was supposed to talk to them. About medicine. In Chinese. Well, at least that is what it was supposed to look like. It was all an image.

Yesterday, I was having lunch with Wendy (my tutor) in the BLCU cafeteria, when we were interrupted by some recruiters from an advertising agency that contracts with CCTV. They told Wendy they wanted me to come with them to film a promotional for a hospital. I said, "Wendy, why do they want me?" She said, "Because you look like an expert." ??? What does an expert look like? This morning, Wendy and I, and the other foreigners they had recruited (BLCU has more foreigners than any other university in China) got in a van and went to the hospital. So what do you get when you go to the BLCU campus and pick four foreigners at random? Two Italian ladies, a kid from Argentina, and me. One of the Italian ladies was in the import-export business. I don't know what the other one was doing. When I asked her, she said, "My English is very bad." She was mostly right. Her English was pretty limited. But her Mandarin was impressive. She spoke Chinese better than any of us (except Wendy, of course). The kid from Argentina was a twenty-one-year-old business major who is in China for one semester studying Mandarin. It was interesting to see the Argentine kid communicating with the Italian ladies. He could not speak Italian. They could not speak Spanish. But they could understand eachother, so they didn't even attempt to speak eachother's language. They each spoke their own, and understood each other completely. Fortunately, the kid from Argentina also spoke very good English, and he was friendly and talkative, so he was explaining all this to me. I asked him about Portugese. He said it was the same. He could understand Portugese, but he couldn't speak it. One of the Italian ladies said that she could understand Spanish, but not Portugese. Apparently Spanish is sort of a "bridge" language between Italian and Portugese. I'm just guessing, I don't know. And I can guess with integrity, because I don't speak any of those languages. Complete ignorance is handy that way.

At the hospital, they took us into the board room and seated us around a table. Then they told us to pretend to be talking about something important with the doctors on the other side of the table. It was pretty hilarious. The doctor sitting across from me was pretty talkative and very friendly. I wish I could have understood him. I was thinking about what kind of conversation we could have had if we had understood each other. I cannot imagine what other situation would have put me in the same room with the exclusive attention of this specialist. There are so many questions I would like to have asked him. It was very obvious that he had spent many years studying many things. Unfortunately, English was not one of them. It reminded me of the time two years ago, when I was talking with a school kid in the mountains of Yunnan Province. He was talking a mile a minute, and getting more and more frustrated because I would not answer him. He could see that I was not deaf. I was listening intently to what he was saying to me. But I was not answering him for the simple reason that I had no idea what he was saying. Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath, and in a fit of desparation, he looked at me and said, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!!" I looked right back at him and said, "Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty!" He joined me, and we counted all the way to one hundred together. Communication. Language. Oh, what a curse those arrogant fools of Babel brought on all of us!

A few short takes and it was time for the finale. We stood, and everyone applauded as the visiting American physician (me) shook hands with the Chinese specialist. It was an interesting experience, and experience is a good teacher, but I am definitely not cut out for show business. Keep your glitz and glamour; I've got work to do.

Went to Haidian Jiaotang this morning. I sat next to a microbiologist from Beida who told me that this church has seen tremendous growth in the past five years. They are right now building a new sanctuary that will hold 3000 people. It is interesting to me to see the comparison between a church like this, and the American megachurches I was used to in the Phoenix area. It is a bit like taking a step back in time. Perhaps some American young people would have a hard time getting used to this kind of service, especially if they were not familiar with the hymns. But I think many churches in America have gone to the opposite extreme. It seems as if the church in China has become what the church in China always wanted to be, but was not allowed to be, and what the church in America has always been allowed to be, but no longer wants to be.

Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to shed your light afar,
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are.

Brighten the corner where you are!
Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!

Well, folks, this is it. The big Five-O is finally here. I am fifty years old today. I sure don't feel like it, but then I really am not in a position to say, because I have no idea what fifty is supposed to feel like. I remember last year thinking how depressed I would be if I were still in America on my fiftieth birthday. Thankfully, I was spared that fate.

Some students had a party for me today. Believe it or not, the timing was coincidental. It started a couple weeks ago, when Lily was asking me why I didn't cook. I tried to tell her that I didn't know how, but she insisted that I should learn. Practice. Then I told he that I had no reason to, because the cafeteria is right by my building. If I need something, I just go down there. Actually, there are three cafeterias right by my apartment, but I usually go to Student Canteen Number Eight. It is open until 10pm. Anyway, that's another subject for another time, but there is just no motivation for someone who doesn't cook to adopt such a horribly time consuming hobby when there is such good food at such low cost right across the way. Finally, I said, "Lily, if you want to come to my apartment and cook a meal, you are welcome." Well, she took me up on it. The others who were there also thought it was a good idea. They wanted to do it last week, but I wanted to put it off until the cleaning lady had been here, so I delayed it one week, which happened to be today.

It started this morning at the Wudaoko Market. Lily's approach was very straightforward, "You buy the cooking materials; we buy the food." I didn't argue. Actually I paid for all the seasoning, too, since that is going to stay here (for the next party). The Wudaoko Market is a large "farmer's market" under a roof that has every possible variety of foodstuff. Leander wanted to buy a fish, so we stopped by a place where they had several tanks with several types of critters. One tank had some large bullfrogs swimming around. Another had some turtles. And then there was the fish tank. Leander picked out a fish. The lady picked up the fish, wriggling and gasping for air. She banged it's head on the side of the tank. Lily turned away. Then she looked at me, "Are you a Christian?." Yes, I admit, it is not proper for a Christian to see such violence. But I also must admit that I really like to eat the fresh fish that is the victim of this violence, so I choose to live with the contradiction.

They also picked out some chicken and pork, and lots of different kinds of vegetebles. Then we had to buy some cooking utensils, since I have absolutely nothing in my kitchen. I am all outfitted now. For about twenty US dollars. And the dishes they prepared were well worth all the trouble. Food from three different cuisines. One guy was from Guandong, so he prepared a classic Cantonese chicken specialty. The guy from Northeast China (Manchuria) prepared a couple of meat dishes, and Leander prepared a Sichuan stew. Lily made a egg and tomato dish that is pretty common all over China. And they even topped it off with a birthday cake. Lots of fun, lots of food, and a good time was had by all.

Sitting here in the "Cava" coffee bar. The Reading Cafe is right down the street, but it closes at midnight, and it's after 11:30. This place is open 'till 2 am.

This morning I met a Brit at the hotel in Langfang. He is in the import-export business, and is in town for an expedition. I said, "Where are you from?" He said, "Surrey, south of London, but me folks are from East Anglia." He is running his business out of Gansu province in the Northwest, which seems like an odd location for an import-export business. I was glad he could join me for breakfast, because I thought perhaps he would be able to tell me what to do with the raw egg. No such luck.

Bikes. I was meeting with Wendy (my Mandarin tutor) in the library coffeeshop at BLCU the other day, when Robert and Peter walked in. Robert and Peter are both ABC's (American Born Chinese) from California. Lots and lots of ABC's in China these days. Anyway they had both gotten their bikes stolen at the same time. According to them, a gang of migrant workers was working the Zhongwancun area. I said, "Did you call the police?" Robert gave me a look that made me feel like a very small child. There is a general perception here that the police either can't do anything about it, or don't want to. But Robert and Peter said that the gang members were picking the bikes off the street, putting them in a van, and then cutting the locks off, and reselling the bikes. I don't know if that is true. When I pressed Peter again about notifying the police, he said, "Well, we didn't actually see them do it." I don't know if this is a case of the police actually being paid off, or one of those situations where a gang moves in and then leaves before getting caught. But somehow I believe that it is still better in this kind of situation to make a point of alerting the police so that, in the event that they really are not aware of what is happening, they can move in.

This is a big problem in China. Well, maybe I shouldn't say "big problem," because bikes really are not too expensive. I am afraid most people just shrug their shoulders and buy another bike.

Leander got his bike stolen a few weeks ago. When I asked him why he had a "two-lock" bicycle, he insisted that it was a "one-lock" bicycle. But when I pressed him about it, he admitted that he had bought a new chain. Old bike with new parts. Prime candidate for theft.

Meanwhile, my one-lock bike is still with me. I try hard to keep it as dirty and rusty as possible. Even the lock, which was new when I bought the bike, is getting a little rusty, for which I am grateful. Believe it or not, it's not easy in Beijing. Such a dry climate. Can't even find a little mud anywhere. I keep my bike in good repair, but you can't tell that by looking at it, because I don't allow anyone to clean it. But every time it starts to gather a little dirt and look pretty cruddy, a good strong wind comes along and blows it clean. It's downright maddening.

Restaurants. They come in many different varieties here. Some of them are very neat, and tidy. I have seen several where the tables have several layers of thin plastic, and they peel of a layer at a time each time the customers from that table leave the establishment. But, as I said, they come in all varieties. A week ago I was eating in one of those little out of the way places--the kind people tell me I shouldn't be going to--and I dropped a chopstick. Lily jumped up and got me another pair. It was a nice gesture, but I wouldn't have bothered. I didn't drop my chopstick on the floor, I dropped it on the table. But the table is where you spit the bones. 'Course they do come along and wipe it off between customers. Somehow, though, one gets the feeling that perhaps it isn't the epitome of cleanliness. The food is real good, though.

The other day, we were at a restaurant that is just a little more upscale. Eric Wu, Lily and her boyfriend, and myself. We had a large hotpot with a divider in the middle. Beef on one side, spicy mutton on the other. Boiling hot water, into which we put the sweet potatoes, spinach, and noodles. Grab some meat, run it through the sesame dip, and down the hatch. It was an absolutely delicious meal. Cost? Twenty-five yuan for each of us. Just about exactly three US dollars. The students were upset. They thought the price was exorbitant. Lily said matter-of-factly, "We're not coming here again."

Well, I had to admit that the price was about a dollar more for each of us than we usually spend. But I was dealing with it. Actually the meal we ate could have fed one other person, maybe two. That is one thing unique about restaurants in China. You can't go to dinner by yourself. Well, you can, but you'll have to pay for every dish, and you can't possibly eat it all. When you go to a restaurant in China, you don't order individual portions. There are exceptions, of course, like the Lush, where I sometimes go to get bacon and eggs. But at most Chinese restaurants, you order the dishes, they put them in the middle of the table, and then everyone helps themselves. No serving spoons. Just grab your chopsticks and go for it. When I say, "you," I use the term in a general sense. I don't order. I never have. I don't know how. Students tell me, "just look at the pictures." But the pictures mean nothing to me. I have no idea what I am looking at. When it comes to main dishes, of course, you do develop a sort of repertoire of dishes you are familiar with, such as boiling fish, peking duck, etc. But basically, when I go somewhere to eat with a bunch of students, I am at their mercy.

Pollution today. The town smells like a lumber mill. Must be a temerature inversion or something.

As far as I know, Haidian Jiaotang is the only church in Beijing that provides English translation. I don't know that for sure, but it is the only one listed as providing English translation. It is hard to describe how much this translation means to someone like myself. I am not comfortable with the language yet, and without the translation, I really wouldn't understand anything, except the hymns, and that only because many of them were translated from English. The translation service is not without its difficulties. Any simultaneous translation is going to be a bit spotty from time to time. But generally speaking, it really is pretty good, and it gives me a chance to follow along and get what I can from the text. If the truth be told, many sermons are not easy to follow, even if they be spoken in one's mother tongue. The prospect of having to hear a sermon in translation can actually have a benefit, as it requires more concentration. You are less likely to fall asleep.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!


Later in the evening Adam called me and wanted some help writing a letter to an embassy official. Adam is a brilliant self-taught scholar. But he has studied mostly on his own, so he does not have the credentials needed to get a good job. And his application for a visa is a bit pathetic, because he has no money, no job, no specific plan. He is obviously hoping to be treated as a special dissident which would entitle him to the help he would need to get started in America. Two factors militate against this idea. First, of course, is nine-eleven. The other big factor is China's economy. What are the odds that the United States is going to help a young man with no credentials find a job in America, when one of the most sensitive political issues in America today is the loss of American jobs to China?

Actually, I don't have much sympathy for students who are beating their brains out to go to America. I tell them it won't make that much difference for them. I would never say that about learning English. English is very, very important. But you don't learn English just to go to America. You learn English to go to Tokyo, and Bangkok, and Singapore, and Hong Kong, and Korea. So I am very sympathetic to students who want to learn English. But I am not much encouragement for students who think that going to America will somehow lead to fame and fortune. Still, old ways of thinking persist. There is a strong belief among young people in China that the pathway to success is to "study abroad."

Sorry I'm late. Just had to climb 14 stories because the elevator was out of commission. Don't know why...I guess it turns into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight. Well, I am not usually this late, but there have been occasions (like New Year's eve) when I came in after midnight and the elevator operators were still on duty. Maybe they decided to give the elevator a rest tonight. When elevators first started to become common in China twenty years ago, they used to do that. They would let all the elevators "rest" for an hour a day. Too bad for you if you were on the fourteenth floor and you had to be somewhere.

Another thing. There is a rule in China that buildings that don't have more than six floors don't need an elevator. I knew about that rule before I came to China. What I didn't know was that any office of any consequence is always on the fifth or sixth floor. So I have been getting a lot of exercise running up and down stairways. Well, OK, not exactly running, but you know what I mean.

It was the English Corner that caused it. I thought I had a plan that would work. Instead of going early, I decided to go later so that I didn't need to worry about how to get away without being rude. It doesn't work. They just stay later. They would have stayed all night if I hadn't excused myself shortly after midnight. Lots of questions again. There was considerable discussion about the current economic boom in China, and just how "real" it was. One man mentioned that there is still a lot of unemployment in China. Well, he is right. In Shenyang, for example, state owned enterprises were ordered to become profitable. When they complained that they couldn't make a profit because of too many workers, the government told them to lay off as many as they needed to put them in the black. This problem was outlined not too long ago in a PBS documentary called "China in the Red."

Many, many times, as I am talking with students, the question of corruption comes up. I have often felt that China is a society in transition between two belief systems, and there tends to be quite ready agreement with this among the individuals I talk to. There is much questioning about values today in China. At least by some people. Others have simply given themselves over to making money and trying to cash in on the prosperity. But there really are a lot of young people asking very sincere questions.

At one point in our conversation, we were interrupted by a young lady. She said, "This conversation is very heavy. Can I ask you a lighter question?" I said, "Sure." She said, "Will you cut your beard when it gets hot?" I like people like her. They remind me of my daughter. Melissa would love her.

Commander Burns

Well, I think I am finding the balance for the freshmen in Langfang. I am supposed to be teaching them Technical English, but the whole idea of the class is to help them feel comfortable speaking English, and they just don't get very conversational about technology. This week I wrote another essay for them. Wonder if Mel remembers this one:


-------------------------
It was late in the fall of 1961 or early in ‘62. We were living in the city of Sakata, Japan. We were only there on weekends, because during the week we attended a boarding school in another city about 60 miles away. We went to school on Tuesday morning, and came back on Saturday afternoon.

I remember one Monday morning we were sitting around the house waiting for the day to get started, when there was a knock on the door. It was the Commander of the local United States Navy base in Sakata. His name was Burns. Commander William Burns. He had dropped by to see if my two sisters wanted to go with him to his house to play with his two daughters. Mary was about nine then—she made the decision rather quickly. But Melody was much more hesitant. Mel was six. I could tell that she really wanted to go, but she wasn’t quite sure if she should. My parents asked her several times if she wanted to go, but she couldn’t seem to make up her mind. Finally she decided to play it safe, and chose to stay.

Well, the moment Mary left with Commander Burns, I could tell that Mel was regretting her decision. She had made the choice herself; nobody pushed her one way or the other. Still, there are times when you make a decision that you don’t really like because you can’t find within yourself the strength to make the decision that you would prefer to make if you could be sure that everything would turn out right. Somehow the fact that it is your decision doesn’t seem to make you feel any better about it. In fact, I think sometimes it makes you feel worse, because you are kicking yourself for not having enough courage to do what you really wish you could do, but none of that changes the fact that you are just a little more afraid of getting into a situation that you can’t get out of because you made a decision that you can’t change. Anyway, what’s done is done, and Mel soon got about the business of making the best of things.

About an hour and a half later, there was a knock on the door. To our surprise, it was Commander Burns again. He had taken Mary all the way out to the Navy base, and then he had come back to see if Melody didn’t want to reconsider. Well, this time Melody was ready to go. She had had plenty of time to think about what she must be missing, and when the chance came to do things right, she wasn’t going to miss it a second time.

Seize the Day! That’s how the saying goes. But sometimes we just aren’t ready to make the decision when the decision needs to be made. Most of the time, you don’t get a second chance. So what made Commander Burns turn around and come all the way into town to give Melody another shot at the opportunity? We usually don’t think of leadership in those terms. Military commanders are generally evaluated on the basis of how many battles they win, not on how many children they keep happy. But battles are fought and won to make sure that kids have the freedom to be kids. So really, when it comes right down to it, there isn’t that much difference between leadership in battle and leadership in life. Anyway, it is clear that Commander Burns came back because he was concerned about a little girl who wanted to play, but who just didn’t have the courage to make the decision. If he had thought for a moment that she really didn’t want to go, he would never have tried to force the issue. But that was not the case. What she wanted to do was obvious. It was written all over her face. She just needed a little help making the decision. A little time. A little encouragement. A second chance. If Commander Burns had merely been concerned with fulfilling his neighborly duty, he could have called and asked if Mel wanted to go. He could have offered to come and get her. Then my parents would have said, that no, she made her decision, and they didn’t want him to go to all that trouble. That would have fulfilled his gentlemanly obligation, but it wouldn’t have helped Mel.

Commander Burns acted as he did because he really was concerned about a little girl who needed a friend. Burns was a man of responsibility. The Navy base in Sakata was part of the NSGA (Naval Security Group Activity). The function of this base was to monitor the activities of the Soviet Union during the height of the “Cold War.” But on this day, Commander Burns wasn’t thinking about the Soviet Union. He wasn’t thinking of all the men under his charge. He was only thinking about one little girl who needed leadership. The kind of leadership that cares about little girls, not just big wars.


1. How do you think Melody felt when Commander Burns and Mary left the first time?


2. Consider this statement in the third paragraph: “…there are times when you make a decision that you don’t really like because you can’t find within yourself the strength to make the decision that you would prefer to make if you could be sure that everything would turn out right. Have you ever been in a situation like this? How did you feel?


3. What do you think it was that made Melody change her mind? Time, regret, wishing she had another chance…all of these may have been factors. Which do you think was most significant?


4. How do you feel when you have made a decision that you wish you could change?


5. If Mel had gone the first time, do you think she would have been more likely to regret her decision and wish that she had stayed home?


6. Do you think Commander Burns did the right thing to come back? How might things have turned out differently if he had not? What other options did he have? How do you think he arrived at the decision he made?


7. Do you think Commander Burns was a good leader or a poor leader. Should a military officer with this level of responsibility allow himself to be distracted by the childish concerns of a little girl? What weakness, if any, does this demonstrate?
----------------------------------

When I asked them the question about situations where they wanted to do something but were afraid, most of them mentioned their fear about speaking up in an English class. I then asked them how many of them had never had a native speaker for a teacher. Most of them said that I was the first native speaking English teacher they had ever had. One student actually told me that I was the first foreigner he had ever talked to! This, of course, is a real problem, and China is trying very hard to deal with it. Interaction with native speakers at an early age is a very big part of developing the kind of "near native" proficiency that is going to make young people competetive in the market place. There are more English speaking people in Asia than there are in America. English is the international language of trade, and students who are not comfortably conversational will certainly be left behind.

Labels: Sakata

Went to the Easter service at BICF today. Louis Palau, Stephen Curtis Chapman, and a tennis player by the name of Michael Chang. After the service, I went with some friends to the Great Wall Sheraton for dinner. Fancy place. Don't ask me what I ate; bunch of French names I don't remember. Pretty good food, but kinda spendy. One hundred eighty-four kwai. Definitely can't do that every day. About once every ten years would be good. Well, I guess if there is any day when a Christian should celebrate, it is Easter.

After the meal, I felt a bit bloated, which made me think that I may have eaten a little too much. Lest there be any question about the matter, when I got to the subway station, the lady who took my ticket poked me in the stomach and laughed. And they say Americans are direct. :)

Bu dao Changcheng, fei hao han The students taught me this today. It means, "You're not a real man until you've been to the Great Wall." It's actually pretty easy to get there. You take the subway to Donzhimen, then catch bus number 916 to Huairou. Then you have to hire a cab to take you to the wall. But that's just the beginning. Once you get there, you have to climb the steps. Lots of steps. About a thousand of them. Unless you take the cable car. The "cable car" is actually a chair lift, but if you really don't want to do the climb, it does take you right to The Wall. I like hiking, and I don't like heights, so I took the steps. It really isn't too bad, you just have to take your time.

It is quite an experience to see something that is not only old, but ancient. The wall was brought together as a unified entity by the Qin emperor (roughly 200 BC), but it began hundreds of years before that. But the form of the wall that is seen today was developed in the Ming dynasty (14th to 17 centuries). The wall stretches for 6000 kilometers as the crow flies. Recent controversy centers around whether or not the Wall can be seen from space. Chinese school children have been told for generations that the Wall can be seen from outer space. But the recent taikonaut said that he did not see it. This made the government decide the elementary school books should be revised. But American astronaut Gene Cernan was in Singapore recently. Naturally, someone asked him the question. He said that yes, you can see the Wall from space. He said you could also see the Houston Astrodome if you know how to look for it.

Well, this generated considerable discussion about what should be done. Some have suggested that Chinese taikonauts be given special training so they can see the Wall. Others have suggested that giant lights be mounted on the wall so that it would be more visible from space. Don't know why it matters. There aren't that many people out there.

When we left the wall, we decided to take the toboggan run down the hill. They give you a little sled with wheels and a hand brake. And they station workers along the run who are constantly telling you to slow down. Don't know why...must have had trouble with someone going to fast at one time. Aside from being a lot easier than the climb, it's just plain fun. Switch back and forth down the mountain, then out across the ravine over a small bridge, and down to the entrance, a few paces from the parking lot.

It really is an eerie feeling to stand in the fortress tower and look out across Manchuria, and across the centuries. But of all the things that can be said about the wall, one stands out as the most significant: It didn't work. The Manchu's breached the wall in 1644, bringing an end to the Ming Dynasty. Someone forgot to heed the ancient warning: "For by strength shall no man prevail."

Sitting here in Langfang, so I have a few minutes to get caught up on this... had an interesting situation in the Oracle lab the other day. I was explaining to my students how the online redo long files in Oracle work. I don't want to get too technical, but basically, the redo log files record all changes to the database. When a transaction is committed, the Log Writer process writes the changes to the log files. When the first log group (one or more files) is full, the database performs a checkpoint, all changes are written to the datafiles, and the database does a log switch to the next log group. Well, one of my students got curious about this, and decided to test this. She performed some DML (data manipulation language) activity (such as deleting a row from a table), then viewed the details in Windows where it shows the last time the file has changed. But Windows showed no change. She asked me about this, so I forced a log switch on her database, and Windows showed the change. But when we did DML activity, there was no change. I am not talking about big changes now, but that is not the point. We were only looking for some indication by Windows that the file had been addressed. Nothing. Well, I wanted to find a way to prove that the log file was being written to, so I went to orafaq.com and submitted a question. A DBA responded with a query that does the trick. Here it is:

select
le.leseq "Current log seqence No",
100*cp.cpodr_bno/le.lesiz "Percent Full",
cp.cpodr_bno "Current Block No",
le.lesiz "Size of Log in Blocks"
from
x$kcccp cp,
x$kccle le
where
LE.leseq = CP.cpodr_seq
and bitand(le.leflg, 24)=8
/

If you look at this query for awhile, you can see that it is a query against internal tables that are not normally used. This is probably because none of this has anything to do with what you would actually need to know to run an Oracle database. Just idle curiosity.

After the lab I was talking with some students over a dinner of duck blood stew. Somehow we got into a discussion about all the changes in China. They commented that it wasn't all good, and someone mentioned corruption. I said that much of this was because China seemed to be in a transition state between belief systems. One of the students commented on the loss of religion, and another said that religion was not of any value since it wasn't true. So I said, "Well, if I am working with a complex system, like Oracle. I am not impressed with the computer, or even with the database. I am impressed with the minds that created it. And when I walk outside at night and look at the sky, I am not just impressed with the stars. I want to meet the engineer who put it together. The night sky is not an accident. It is design. End of discussion.

Climate. The climate of Beijing is a lot like Arizona except for the temperature. Don't laugh; sunniness is a big issue with me. I can deal with cold. But endless days of cloudy weather tend to wear on me. If it is cold and windy, the wind is an irritation. If it is cold and wet, the wetness is particularly offensive. But mere coldness is not a problem. Dress for it. Having said that, it is nice to see spring time. My tutor and I can sit outside now.

Actually, Beijing reminds me of Northern Arizona without the mountains. You don't think of it as a mountainous city, but otherwise it does have the feel of a northern city. The evergreens here are very much like what I have seen in Northern Arizona, or in Alaska when I was working in Denali National Park. Anyway, it has been pretty sunny most of the time since I got here. I have heard a lot about the spring dust storms, but the one we had the other day didn't seem that bad, although I did see a lot of people covering their faces. I don't do that. Takes all the fun out of it. Some people say it's because of all the construction, but that is not true. It has nothing to do with construction. It's the Gobi desert. Possibly a result of bad management in previous years, or just nature. Anyway, the government is trying to do something about it now by planting trees. In another 300 years, they may get rid of the dust storms. But, as I say, it hasn't been bad so far.

Some people from Shanghai and South China complain about the dry air, but I actually prefer a dry climate. I am interested to see how it develops through the summer, though, because I have heard that it gets more humid then. Can't imagine Beijing could compete with the stickiness of Shanghai, but we'll see.

Amber invited me to a concert at BIT (Beijing Institute of Technology) this evening. Amber is a college kid from BIT who likes to chat with me at the coffee bar. I am not very familiar with Stephen Curtis Chapman's music, but he is a pretty good guitar picker. This guy must have steel-tipped fingers. He broke a string about half-way through the third or fourth song. But his friend Jeff kept things going, so the recovery was good. It was obviously a benefit concert, because it was free. Amber was determined to get there at least an hour early even though she had saved seats for us in the small auditorium. This kind of thing is a very big hit with Chinese young people, and both Steve and Jeff have adopted orphans from China, so they have a unique interest in this country.

They began with a couple of well known country songs--Country Roads, and one other one--can't remember. Then they began to sing some of the songs they had written and tell their story. As the concert progressed, Amber became more and more absorbed in the music, as did many of the other students. After awhile, she wrote two characters on a piece of paper and showed them to me...gandong, moved. touched. Wo hen gandong (I'm very moved).

Toward the end of the concert, there was a question and answer period. Amber raised her hand several times, but someone always beat her to it. She was frustrated, and I was frustrated for her, because I knew that the real reason she was raising her hand was not just curiosity. Amber had spent the whole afternoon drawing a cute collage for the two visitors. Hearts, designs, part of the Chinese flag, and three monograms that said, "Stephen," "Jeff," and "Amber." A friendship poster. She wanted to give it to them. I knew she didn't have much chance if she didn't take pretty assertive action, so I said, "Amber, the next time they ask if someone has a question, don't raise your hand. Just stand up and start talking."

"Stand up?!"
"Yes. Be bold. Be seen. Give them no options."

Well, the MC asked for one more question. Amber raised her hand, but he did not call on her. She was really disappointed. In one sense, it was presumptious, I suppose, to expect that she would abandon a lifetime of inbred propriety just because of my suggestion. Amber is very outgoing and friendly, but not rude in any sense of the word. And who am I to tell this young lady that she should abandon propriety so quickly just for a chance to speak with an American musician? Still, I felt sorry for her, and I wanted to give her an edge.

Well, the concert was over, and the MC was winding things up so that Stephen and Jeff could be on their way, when Amber suddenly jumped to her feet, "Wait! I have a question!" She seemed a bit surprised at herself, but determined as well. The moderator was obviously prepared for such outbursts, because he immediately cut her off, but Amber had passed the point of no return; there was no turning back. Emboldened now by her own audacity, she persisted, "No! Let me talk, please!!"

She was trembling now as she held out her labor of love for Stephen and Jeff, the two singers from America. Stephen was very gracious, and thanked her for both of them. When she sat down, she said, "I was so nervous!" I said, "I'm proud of you, Amber." Now the concert really was over. A few closing remarks, and Stephen and Jeff collected Amber's drawing and left the stage. This, of course, did not escape her notice, "Oh, they're taking my picture with them...they took my picture!"

I said, "Of course."

I went to the Haidian District Protestant Church again today. Pastor Wu was speaking from Matthew 21 about the "Road to Jerusalem." At the beginning of the service, we were singing "Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross," and I happened to be familiar with that hymn, so I was singing it in English. The elderly lady sitting next to me nudged me and offered to share her hymn book with me. Struck me funny, because the lack of a hymn book was not my problem. My character recognition skills are still pretty scanty, and those books don't have pinyin, so it was a struggle, but I listened very carefully to her, and watched as she moved her finger across the page. It was actually a pretty good linguistic exercise.

I was more careful this time to make sure I had an FM receiver that worked. Still hard to follow the translation, because the volume of those things is not very high but so much better than last week. We also had a communion service at the end. Lots and lots of people. But there really is a good spirit in that place.

Ring the bells of Heaven! There is joy today,
For a soul, returning from the wild!
See, the Father meets him out upon the way,
Welcoming His weary, wandering child.

Glory! Glory! How the angels sing:
Glory! Glory! How the loud harps ring!
’Tis the ransomed army, like a mighty sea,
Pealing forth the anthem of the free!

I had dinner with some of the students in Langfang last night. On our way to the cafeteria, one young lady made everyone stop so I could tie my shoes. ("It's very dangerous!") Well, I wasn't the least bit terrified, but I thanked her profusely and went through the ritual anyway. Kids are so thoughtful.

Breakfast at the hotel this morning was pretty much the same as usual. I noticed they bought me a new jar of jam. But the bread was dripping wet, so I just broke it up and put it in the milk. It isn't milk, exactly; it has something else in it, but I have no idea what that might be. Still have no idea what in the world I'm supposed to do with the raw egg, so I just drank it.

I went to the English Corner at Renmin Daxue (People's University) tonight. Renda is one of the leading universities in China for humanities and social sciences. There were about 500 people there in the university square waiting to speak English with someone. It was dark, so I couldn't tell how many foreigners there were, but there must not have been very many, because I was immediately surrounded by a crowd of people wanting to speak English. Lots and lots of questions:

How do you like Beijing?
How long have you been in China?
How long are you going to stay here?
Is this your first visit to the English corner?
What do you think about Taiwan?
Do you support Chen Shui-bian?
Area you a Christian?
Where can I go in America to study landscape architecture?
Where are you from?
Do you like Chinese food?
Why is it so hard to get a visa?
What is your solution to the Taiwan problem?
Did you come here by bicycle?
How much did your bicycle cost?
Are you satisfied with your salary?
What do you think about the "Passion" movie?
Where do you teach?
Do you think there will be a war with Taiwan?
Do you teach International Relations?
How do you spell "Oracle?"
Do you like Chinese food?
Do you know any universities where I can study landscape architecture?
How long will you stay in China?
Do you like China?
Do you like spicy food?
Where are you from?
Can I study landscape architecture in Arizona?
Do you like Chinese food?
Why did you come to China?
Where is Arizona?

Once the questions started, I had pretty much resigned myself to staying for awhile, becuase I was completely surrounded. But people were polite, and I was able to satisfy the questions of most people until one lady had to leave and asked for my business card. Suddenly I had a dozen hands in my face. No getting around it, you can't please everyone. I think if I ever go there again, I will go later in the evening, because once you are there, you really can't leave. I tried to leave several times, and finally managed to get out of there at about 10:30. I felt sorry for those who had just arrived and wanted to talk, but I just couldn't get to all of them. I don't really think studying abroad is that important. When students complain about their trouble getting a visa, I don't have that much sympathy. I really don't think American universities are that special. But learning English is important. Very important. So I really do sympathize with students who are struggling with it. There are more English speaking people in Asia than there are in the United States. English is the global language of trade, and learning it is a must for students who want to be competitive in the new China. In my opinion, the value of studying abroad is highly overrated. But it is hard to overstate the value of learning English.