The Beijing Journal
Deon Matzen
©
Copyright 2020 by Deon Matzen
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Who are we and how did we get talked into this?
Can a woman who is past middle age, and
cancer
survivor, who hasn’t had a television for thirty years and
has never eaten at MacDonalds, uproot her rural
lifestyle
and move to Beijing to teach Western Culture and idiomatic English in
the largest foreign language university in China? Skagit
Valley
College sent a memo to all its instructors, asking for a foreign
exchange instructor to teach English in Beijing.
The big question posed to me by the college
where I
worked early in 2001 was this:
“Would you go to Beijing for us and teach
there for a year?”
Me? Am I
qualified? Am I
interested? How will I
survive? I’m not
even through with long term chemo, I’m middle aged, I haven’t
taught anything but art for a number of years. How
will I
leave my home on rural Whidbey for a year? Will I be
able
to cope with city living after spending most of my life in the
countryside? How can I teach Western culture when I
myself
only experience a small part of rural society and have little
concourse with society in general, now or in the past?
But, for me, the most important question
was this:
Am I ready for a big adventure at
this point in
my life?
After a few days consideration, I decided
the answer
was, Yes! I can handle these challenges and learn
from
them. I can meet new people, study a culture that is
quite
foreign to me, represent the school and my society, and teach others
who have an interest in my country how to survive within our society.
The result was one of the greatest learning
experiences of my life. I am a more independent,
adventurous, and tolerant person than I ever was before. In addition,
I gained a knowledge about Eastern culture, not vicariously, but
though experience. I made many new friends. Established a sister city
relationship between Long Beach, Washington and Weifang, China
(both the kite capitals of their respective countries, viewed in a
later chapter). Now my Chinese students, almost hundred each term
with four classes of twenty-three each, have a good feeling about
Americans and confidence to come to England, Canada and the US
knowing that they will also succeed with their adventure. I
have been called Grandmother by students nearly as old as myself as a
show of respect and seen their tears when I must return to my own
country. Many still communicate and tell of their
own
personal issues in foreign countries and of their own family joys and
sorrows.
Never would I have expected to have gained
so much
from such a simple choice as saying “yes, I will go.”
I lived in Washington State on Whidbey
Island with a
population of approximately 14,250 (2000). A very
green,
verdant, somewhat rural, quiet, wooded
locale. Beijing is
a city of 12 million (2001) people, teaming with traffic, lots of
noise, smells. One person who traveled there the
year
before told me there wasn’t a tree in sight. I
heated my home with a wood stove and cooked on a wood cook stove
during the cooler months of the year. They use coal
and
natural gas. Coal creates cinder dust
everywhere. They
also had sandstorms! Luckily I loved Chinese food,
so I
didn’t think food would be a problem.
My husband, Bob, is a finish carpenter with
a
business on Whidbey. At first he was very hesitant
at
first, thinking this was not a good project to pursue, as he was in
the middle of a job and didn’t want to think about it. It
seemed that Bob was not interested, but a few weeks later he asked me
whatever happened with the memo. I said I hadn't
pursued
it as he seemed uninterested and I would not leave without
him. He
thought it might be good to apply. We decided to
apply to
teach in Beijing, China. We were accepted by Skagit
Valley
College and submitted for approval to Beijing Foreign Studies
University in April, 2001.
Bob has a high school education from
eastern
Montana. He took a few courses at Everett Community
College, but never earned a degree. He is a very
quiet
person. Not at all the type of person to stand up in
front
of a classroom and conduct a discussion about English pronunciation,
or culture. His mother laughed at the idea of
“Professor
Bob.” We had heard that spouses often were drafted to work as
there was a shortage of native English speakers available to teach
continuing education English classes.
I had taught about three years at Skagit
Valley
College. I taught painting, drawing, life drawing,
color
theory, art history, printmaking and introduction to art. I taught
two days a week and worked as a fine art painter the remaining time,
having shows and entering competitions with my work.
We own a small farm with a large
vegetable
garden and laying hens. This presented a problem in
itself. We
had financial commitments, animals that needed care, a home to be
watched and protected.
A big, important financial question was
this:
“Was
the proposed salary of $388 per month
enough to meet our needs or will we be destitute teachers in China?”
The assignment was to teach for the
2001-2002 school
year consisting of two semesters. The wage was
3200RMB per
month, half paid in yuan and half in US dollars,
which was
equal to $388US. It included an apartment, all the
utilities, and a modest health care coverage at the university’s
hospital.
With the possibility of Bob acquiring work
as well,
we would probably be fine as far as our expenses
abroad. Skagit
Valley College agreed to supplement our income to cover our financial
commitments at home. With those issues solved, we were ready for our
big adventure.
Our arrival
August 28, 2001-- We are here!
Wow! Things really got
going toward the
end. I still felt the sense of urgency to do tasks
related
to the trip, only now I had arrived in Beijing. I could take a little
time to get our lives in Beijing settled and ourselves whipped into
shape. Classes were to begin in a couple of weeks. Now when I had a
few minutes peace, I wanted to tell what happened right as we were
getting ready to leave and didn’t have time to
record. Here
it is.
The morning of August 27th dawned,
or rather
hadn’t, when we were up and out of the house. Carol
and Paul, my sister and brother-in-law, took us to the
airport. The
four trunks weighed in at 70.5, 70, and two at 69.5, no excess
baggage charges. We had one last opportunity to say
farewell to Whidbey as the pilot took a path to Vancouver which went
directly over our house.
The flight from
Vancouver, Canada, left on
schedule and our route took us north toward Anchorage then past Nome,
over the Pribiloffs and off to
Russia. Over
Russian Siberia we witnessed massive forest fires burning though the
taiga which we later viewed this tragedy on CCTV, the local Beijing
television station. From there we headed south to
Beijing. It
was after 11 pm at home when we arrived in Beijing at 3:15 pm the
next day. The time difference between home and
Beijing is
fifteen hours ahead and across the dateline from Pacific
Time. I
didn’t know if they observe daylight savings
time. They
do, however, have only one time zone for a country that is as broad
as the US.
Our pilot flew a low altitude loop over the
city
before making a southerly approach to the runway about forty minutes
north of the city. We were able to observe that the
freeways were almost free of cars. Large apartment
complexes were everywhere and THERE WERE LOTS OF TREES AND THE CITY
LOOKED GREEN contrary to reports we had received at home about it
being a barren, leafless city.
Arrival at the airport went
uneventfully. No
inspection of baggage, no questions, no delays after our passport
check.
We arrived in the baggage area and found
our
queue. All our fellow passengers had already
departed. Our four trunks were circling with a few
other
miscellaneous bags. It was a relief to see they had
made
it with us, even if not safely. They must have
dropped
them out of the plane. Two of the trunks had one
corner
split open from top to bottom. These were metal
clad,
wooden trunks with straps. They would be unusable for our return
trip.
As we approached the exit area from
baggage, a young
woman was standing with a sign over her head with our
names. It
was Zhou Wei from the Beijing Foreign Studies
University. She
introduced herself. A very pleasant woman with
excellent
English; she led us to the area where cars were waiting; called on
her cell phone and a small bus came to the curb and helped us load
our bags. The bus was owned by the
University. They
had decided to bring the bus because I had sent information that we
would have four trunks. They definitely would not have fit in a small
Audi taxi.
Our new home was about forty minutes from
the
airport. If a normal westerner had been driving it
probably would have been an hour and a half. It was
a
hair-raising experience. At one point the driver
slammed
on his brakes so hard we had to grab Zhou Wei’s arm to keep her
from flying out of her seat. I focused on the city
and the
beautiful buildings, the trees and the green
grass. If I
had focused on the driving, I would have had a heart attack.
I had been feeling a little green around
the gills
during the last two hours of the flight. The airline
had
served baozi (a stuffed, steamed
bun filled with
pork, bean sprouts, rice noodles and vegetables), kept warm for
fifteen hours since leaving Vancouver, to wake everyone up before
landing. It had not agreed with me and I felt a
little
nauseous and was afraid I might have diarrhea as
well. I
still tried to focus on the area and Zhou Wei. We
arrived
at the Foreign Expert’s Housing about 4:15 and humped the
trunks up four flights of stairs. We had a little
help.
Most Chinese intellectuals are small, out of shape, lacking in any
muscle strength. They were always surprised that I was so strong. We
managed the trek upstairs without having to partially unload them.
Zhou Wei announced that she would
take us out
to dinner. It was expected that we say
yes. The
university was picking up the tab and she would be by at 6:30 to give
us a walk around the campus and over to a nearby
restaurant. I
turned even greener.
We had our first, very quick look at the
apartment. I was not too excited as I was feeling
very punky by that time. We were
both dragging
from our early start time more than a day
before. Neither
of us had slept well the night before we left, nor en
route. We
put the bags and trunks in the bedroom and tried to wash up as best
we could. The temperature in the apartment, with the
air
conditioning on, was 82 degrees, comfortable.
Having arrived late in the day (their time)
and
exhausted after hoisting three, seventy pound trunks up three flights
of stairs, we gave ourselves very quick spit baths. We didn’t
have enough time to try out the bathing facilities before we had to
meet Zhou Wei. We changed into some fresh clothes
and made
it to the door to head downstairs just as she
knocked. It
was warm outside, but not unpleasant. It was humid,
but
not stifling, the temperature now in the 90s. We
walked to
dinner while she showed us places around the
campus. It
was still light at 6:30, but was dark by about 7:15, very dark as
there were no street lights.
The restaurant was on a street that
bordered the
South side of the West campus. It was very busy with
steamed up windows, with rivulets of water trailing onto the sills,
but we were shown to a table right away. The menu
was
about ten pages all in Chinese characters, no pictures. Odd because
it is adjacent to an international language university with ten
thousand students, many foreigners. Prices seemed to range from 10 to
15 Yuan per dish. There are 7.67 Yuan to the US
dollar. We asked Zhou Wei to order for
us. We
didn’t have any idea what the menu said and no one else seemed
to speak English. There were several tanks of fish
by the
front door and you could have your choice prepared in a number of
different ways.
Zhou Wei started us out with a cold dish of
tofu,
sliced thinly and drizzled with a combination of chicken stock and
sesame oil, and sprinkled with chopped green
onion. She
ordered chrysanthemum tea as the beverage.
The next dish to arrive was not easily
described and
resembled nothing I could possibly
image. She told
us it was duck. I am not sure what part and she
wasn’t
sure either. The protocol in China is if you don’t
know, don’t ask. It had been steamed and marinated in mustard
oil, which is tangy, but not too hot. The substance
was
pale color and consisted completely of gristle or possibly some form
of pale rubber. It was striated and may have been
either
the crop of the bird, or the feet with the bones
removed. I
am still unsure. This was cold as
well. Bob, my
husband, was wonderful. I am not a fussy eater, but he can be at
times. I was sure this was one of those
times. What
a way to start out our stay in a country that eats all parts of each
animal so as to not waste a thing. He ate a few
bites
without even making a face. I ate it also, but made
a
point to never order that dish again when were returned on our
own. The consistency of the “duck” didn’t
bother me, but the mustard oil was decidedly unpleasant. Now I know
why they used mustard gas during war time. Later I did discover it
was the webs of the ducks feet, steamed and chilled.
The next two items were served
hot. First
was cashew chicken, which was great, and green beans sautéed
and served while still crunchy with pepper flakes, sprinkled
liberally. I enjoyed these as well as I could with a
still
troublesome stomach thanks to the airlines “snack” before
our arrival. There was enough food for six of us
instead
of three. We took the chicken and the beans home and
put
them in the fridge (did I mention it is ‘60’s avocado
green?)
The green bean dish became one of our
favorites, one
I still make, and one we ordered often while living in
China. I
never experienced that part of the duck again while we lived there
and ate with our students on hundreds of occasions. Thank you.
Here are a few observations we
made having
having been there for just a few days:
Many things in Beijing were NOT as
we were told.
Everyone did not smoke. The
large
number of people dying of smoking related illnesses must be reaching
the people effectively enough to cause them to change their
ways. I
would have said at that point in our stay that a higher percent of
Americans than Beijing residents smoke. (I had to adjust that opinion
somewhat, however many more men than women
smoke. Some
very old women smoke incessantly. Japanese foreign students smoke A
LOT! Cigarettes were forty cents a pack. Most who passed from
respiratory died from pollution.)
Pollution was not a critical
problem. Not
during our time there. Days were mostly clear, both
of
clouds and of smog. We had some, but Seattle on a
day with
an inversion layer is worse. This would change in
the
winter when there were more coal fires started to generate heat. We
later discovered that the government had moved much of the industry
out of town in order to have clearer skies when competing for the
Olympics. The Olympic committee wouldn’t want to
choose a city that had extreme pollution.
We could purchase bread in Beijing. You
could, we had croissants most mornings, and they were delicious. Also
Uyghur (the ethnic minority populating the province
of XinJiang)
bread was available which was similar to foccacia.
Spitting in public was
not out of
control. In the first six days we were
there we had
not witnessed a person spitting. We had seen
occasional
evidence, but it was less than in our area of the US. Later we
discovered that spitting was a ticketable offense
inside
the third ring road. Half the campus is inside, half
outside.
We would need to bring your own
toilet paper. Not
true. There was a substantial supply in
the bathroom
and it was not too different than the brand we used at home. The
Chinese invented paper, why not toilet paper?
I would need to wear suits or
conservative dresses
to teach. Not true. The previous
instructor had told
me all the female instructors wore suits or nice dresses for
teaching. Not the case as most of the instructors,
including my foreign affairs officer, wore jeans and T-shirts to
teach. Very casual and here my wardrobe was suits and dresses.
We heard no derogatory word or
inflammatory
remarks about our foreignness ever during our stay. We
never distinguished any animosity toward us. Most
stared,
even if you looked back and smiled. They did not
look
away, but there was no unkindness in their
eyes. Some
would smile; some would say ni hao (hello).
There are lovely trees, potted
flowers and the
city is green. We had been told it was a barren
place,
almost completely brown and gray. This was a person
who
owned a nursery here. I was surprised to see trees
on
almost every street. Beijing planted over a million trees in the city
during our stay and a million more in preparation for the Olympics
after we left. There were lots of shady lanes
and BeiWai was considered the garden university for
its
beautiful gardens.
There are things that we WERE told that are
true.
There WERE days with no hot water. Yes,
we experienced this several times in the first six days.
There were days with no water at
all. Yes,
for about an hour one morning our first week we had no water and it
was pretty disgusting when it started up again. We needed to find a
source of safe drinking water very early on.
Merchants would cheat foreigners. Yes,
this will happen and we had to be more cautious. Our
fifth
day, when at the grocery store, we were purchasing a melon for Y1.2
per 500 gm. When we had the price sticker put on the
melon
after the clerk weighed it, the price was Y2.4 per 500
gm. The
Persian melon still cost us about 40 cents even with the overcharge,
it should have been 20. We did need to remember that
we
earned only Chinese wages and not western wages and could little
afford to be overcharged. The merchants thought of
us as
the rich tourists and felt that they could charge
accordingly. We
had been told this would be the case and I had read it in several
books.
The school gave us more work than
we had
contracted. That certainly fulfilled this with the
addition
of hours to my work to fill in for the Canadian who was late
arriving. I also received an extra salary for taking on a second
writing class because of the extra time reading papers. They had
added work for Bob as well, something we were told when at home, but
still quite unexpected in the scope, but an asset for us.
They drive badly—yes unbelievably
badly. I
would tell Bob to look out the side window and enjoy the scenery, if
you looked at the road, you would have had a heart
attack. Traveling
110 kmh while weaving in and out of traffic was
scary. Challenging other drivers when lane
changing. Honking
incessantly. Mini compact
taxis challenging large tour buses that want to pull into their
lane. No seat belts in the back seat added to the
terror. Seldom did the seat belts work in the front
seat. In some areas we had been warned that using
the seat
belt will result in a filthy shirt. We didn’t
experience that. Cabs were very clean, even the
cheaper
class cabs. Cabs, busses and most public
transportation,
had removable cotton seat covers and backrest covers that were
removed and washed frequently, making it tidy and clean to ride in a
cab. Also no cigarette
smells. Restaurants also
used fancy slip cover-like covers on the chairs so they could be
removed and washed.
I found many more differences, similarities
and
peculiarities over our stay, but we enjoyed all of
them. The
people were friendly and tried to be helpful, though frequently the
language barrier interfered, but I practiced charades and used them a
lot.
Early into our stay we seemed to be settled
and
adapting and certainly NOT experiencing any
hardships. We
also felt comfortable and somewhat energized by our new
project. The
warm weather was helping too. We both certainly
liked
that.
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