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I opted for the bushiban. I thought that would be the least painful. I figured I'd get in there, give a short lesson, go through some verbal exercises from the lesson book, and then give them some written exercises. Sounds reasonable, but my first few months of classes were stunning failures. One of the first Chinese words I learned was the word for boring, and that's what they thought about my classes. It turns out that's not what they want at all. They don't really want instruction. They get plenty of that in school where English is a mandatory subject. Taught by Chinese teachers, instruction is often impractical and incorrect, but it provides a base of vocabulary and grammar. What they want foremost is entertainment. Most of them are there because their parents make them go. They want someone to get up there and clown around and be friends with them. If they pick-up some English and get the opportunity for some conversational practice, so much the better.
Gradually, I learned how to keep things moving and most classes turned out to be pretty fun. Playing little games about life proved to be an interesting window on Chinese culture. My students could spend a whole class explaining in fractured English how blood type affected a person's psychology--and it forced them to use adjectives. I learned they believed that people with type A blood were supposed to be aggressive go-getters while type B individuals were quiet and reserved. Another game we played left me confused for a couple years until someone finally straightened me out. I would start the class out by making everyone make a list of attributes they would like a future mate to possess. We would then compare and discuss the boys' and the girls' attitudes. One word that continually popped up on the girls lists was "obedience." I was somewhat taken aback, but the boys would nod, yes the girls were right to expect obedience. So much for the reputation of the demure Asian woman. Somehow this word which came up so often and was readily accepted by all as a good thing that it was never put in context. This was probably my fault. The enthusiastic approval of all cowed me into accepting this concept without probing.
My girlfriend was Chinese, and she wanted her way just as often as an American woman might, but I did not sense an outright demand for obedience. It wasn't until much later, after a couple of years musing about the iron rule of law that the Chinese wife must wield that I found out obedience referred, instead, to a son's deference to his parents. Now it all fell into place; this was part of one of the most important pillars of Chinese society: respect for elders. The eldest son in most cases is expected to work in the family business regardless of his interests. He is expected to preserve the wealth, well-being and continuity of the family and obedience to these values is of supreme importance. The girls were endorsing closely woven roles that give the fabric of Chinese society its strength.
Life in another culture is filled with these little epiphanies if you keep your eyes open and remain curious. These little nuggets also give impetus to reflect on how our culture handles similar issues. Sometimes you shake your head in disbelief: How can a wealthy country like Taiwan maintain a hands-off policy in the face of gross polluters who are ruining the island's natural resources at a furious pace; but then other times you notice there isn't really any need for nursing homes in Chinese culture, and you say yes that's good, children should take care of their parents in their old age--we can learn from this.
The months slipped by at a rapid clip, and soon the wild scooter rides, dry cement river beds that funneled filthy water to the ocean during the rainy season, the collage of frying garlic and seafood in the night markets, the ceremony of formal Chinese dinners, the din of traffic and music blasting out of every open storefront, the expatriate bars--all the experiences that made my adventure; at some point became my life instead...
I got a job at a Taiwanese company that bought advertising space in American and European manufacturing magazines for local producers of heavy machinery. Acquaintances became friends and I started studying Chinese. I left The States in search of some mystical Somerset Maughm voyage; but now, living on the other side of the planet, living amidst a society that can be brutally practical, and where almost everyone is concentrating on working hard to make money, I acquired more mundane purpose: growing up....
Some people may find the Chinese fixation on wealth shallow. But these pecuniary pursuits must be placed in the context of Chinese history. The lives lived in The Middle Kingdom over the last 3000 years cover epic breadth. The panoply of experiences has been passed through the generations. Floods and famines have visited unimaginable misery over the millennia--the penchant for wrap-up every little left-over from a restaurant or wedding banquet table and the way every part of an amazing variety of animals is eaten stem from these repeated disasters--but at the same time literature and art played a central role in Chinese culture during many dynasties and well known advances in mathematics and the sciences were achieved while the Europeans were singing "Ring around the Posies." Living for an extended period among the Chinese exposes one to the sheer weight of this history which is metaphorically represented by the crushing number of people and noise that make up a Chinese city. You cannot ignore the proximity of so many people: they jostle and breath on you in the markets and nearly run you over in the streets. And like these people, the sum total of their ancient experience surrounds you, oozing in through your pores and demanding a response. Some people have an allergic response and every street corner, every interaction pours new fuel on their burning misery, but many others, like myself, embrace the new alchemy, and they become a little--or a lot--Chinese.
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