Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

School so far

Because of the national holiday, the school has given all the students a total of 11 days off.

Normally the Oct.1 holiday only lasts for a few days. But since its the 60th anniversary, they've extended it by about a week.  I welcome the time off, but I'm not sure if this is good for my study habits; "We're going to forget all the things we've just learned," one of my classmates pointed out.

Though things have only just begun, school has been good so far, although the hours can be long. Every weekday, I attend class from 8 a.m. to noon. If I was only here to study it would be fine, but with my freelancing taking priority it feels a bit much.

Thus the pacing of things have been more of a hustle, reminding me of my days in college.  Back then I would spend half of my time studying for school, while I'd spend my other half working at the college paper. Now mornings are devoted to learning obscure vocab like 叶脉 (leaf vein) and 鞘 (scabbard), while afternoons and evenings revolve around writing and research.

I also can't help but think how life is fundamentally different than it was a year ago. I remember when I was a teacher in Xi'an, I had literally met hundreds and hundreds of people in those first few weeks. Many of them were students I had met through the classes I taught, or through school activities, while a few others were fellow teachers. Being one of the few foreigners on campus, I actually felt kind of popular.  Me, the valued asset, who was needed by the school, looked up to by the students, and who also got paid relatively well for it.

But now I'm just another student, eating in the cafeteria amongst the throngs of undegrads. All the while, I see dozens of foreigners playing basketball and tennis with the local students here.

Unlike before, in these first few weeks, I've only met what feels like a handful of people. They've mainly just been classmates: a college student from Syracuse wanting to pursue a career in a foreign relations; a Chinese-Australian looking to study his MBA; and a recent college grad who, coincidentally, went to the same high school as me. Yet strangely, I haven't gotten a chance to meet any native Chinese students.

A few days ago I went to my first house party at another university here. The whole apartment was filled with foreigners. European and African accents teemed from the hallways and living room, with Latin dance music booming from a set of speakers. Because of the noise, the local police eventually arrived to quiet things down. Later, one small group of partygoers left the apartment to go  smoke weed.

"How do you get weed in China?" someone asked.

"Dealers here have it," a person replied.

It's a surprise to find things in Beijing that I thought I had left behind in my own college years. I don't know if that's good or bad, just that it's amusing. A few days ago one of my classmates scribbled down a message during class and showed it to me. Written in Chinese, the note said:

你觉得我们的老师很辣？

Translation:

Do you think our teacher is hot?

(This post was written earlier, but published later since I was having trouble uploading it to the website.)