In addition to the regular curriculum--a steady accumulation of idiom, poems, cultural knowledge which is very good for my Chinese ability--we talked about standards for academic work and honesty. Without going into details, there's about as much respect for intellectual property in Chinese academia as there is in, say, Chinese DVD marketing... AL isn't the first person I've heard this from...
It is harder to do one's own work, but I have to believe that in the end it will have internal as well as external payoffs... In the end, in fact, it is NOT harder to do one's own work, at least for me, because for me it would be even harder knowing that I got where I was going on false pretenses. That would be harder for me than getting nowhere at all.
AL also mentioned that she had been watching many foreign films of late, and had a feeling of culture shock by proxy--watching these films gave her the feeling that a lot of what she had believed about the world outside China might be wrong. Yes and no! I consider the problem of learning about the world through movies. And then there's learning about the world through ex-pats and study-abroad kids. Two very different pictures but both decidedly problematic!
I came home and, feeling energized, wrote three long e-mails, one of which I had been putting off. I can do things, really, I can! Especially when I don't have this difficult essay hanging over my head.
Then I headed to the library. The library will be closed all weekend, so I wanted to swap some books around. I still can't believe I'm only allowed to check out five books at a time. What nonsense! I got all the way to the library before I realized that I had intended to copy a few pages out of each of the books. But suddenly I didn't feel like going back to a copy shop. Instead, I sat on the steps out in front with my digital camera and started snapping pictures. It was only a few pages after all, and a pictures takes up less space.
A word about the library cat. On Wednesday it was very cold, with a bone-chilling wind. I saw the white cat that often hangs around the library stretch up to sharpen her claws on the thick quilted fabric that hangs in lieu of a door in front of the library. Then she had an idea and went dashing in. I wasn't sure what would happen, but I was interested to see. The white cat was now in the foyer. But why do things by half measures? She crossed the foyer and dashed through the second quilted door. Before I could even follow her through the second door, out came the uniformed security guard with the white cat draped complacently over his hands. He's a very scary official looking security guard in an army-green uniform, and he scrutinizes you hard as you fumble for your card and swipe in. But he looked more affectionate than stern as he tossed the cat out the door.
The same white cat was lying in the grass in front of the library steps this afternoon. She's a thoroughly grubby cat, "dirty white" probably being a better description of her coat. Some people make up to her and go trying to pet her with little mewling noises, but I ignored her as I sat there taking my pictures. It was not nearly so chilly a day. The sun was shining. The pictures of my book pages have a late afternoon glow, or did before I converted them to greyscale.
Then all of a sudden the white cat was in my lap! Typical. Animals always go for the one person who clearly doesn't care a thing for them! But yes, I confess, I let her stay there while I finished taking my photographs (with difficulty). I felt squeamish about her dirty fur, and the dusty "cat-world" that she no doubt lives in, fattened on cafeteria scraps. But yes, I admit, I petted her all the same, and even took our picture together.
We were much warmer sitting together than either of us would have been sitting apart. If I hadn't finally shooed her away, she would have stayed there indefinitely. She was pleasantly somnolent and, yeah, okay, sort of newborn baby sized.
O ye olde biologickall clocke, be quiet, I am trying to write a dissertation here.
So I don't end on such a lunatic note, I will also mention that I had one last great triumph today.
The office where one goes to refill one's declining balance card has been closed, and I finally ran out of money. Besides, there is no mala tang because there are two few students, and I felt sick of eating other things. So I decided to try to find a new restaurant--or rather, go in quest for an old one.
You see, when I first arrived, the friends once removed who picked me up from the airport had taken me to a grubby little campus eatery--which had absolutely delicious food. But as it was only my second day in Beijing, and my first time in the area, I was completely unable to remember where the place was. I had tried and failed several times to find it, and searched my memory for clues as to where we might have been. For some time, I had had a hunch where it might be. And today, since I had no pressing business, I decided I would have a look.
The place I thought it was was outside the west gate. As I inspected it more closely I concluded that Yes! indeed, it was the same place. I could see the table where we had been sitting that first night.
I approached with a certain trepidation. I remembered that FL, who had been treating that night, said it was so often frequented by students that it was practically one of the cafeterias, but that the service was exceedingly rude. They had been rather rude that night, and FL had been rude right back to them.
When I went in, though, the waitresses were mostly idle because it school holiday--slow season for them. They were all lined up by the door, and sang out a greeting when I came in. They didn't look at me funny because I was by myself, the way most waitresses will. There were other people there by themselves. There was a corner table for two next to the fishtank. (Er, for keeping the ingredients fresh, not for decorative purposes.) The waitress complimented my Chinese, answered my questions patiently, and was overall extremely pleasant.
I had lamb skewers with cumin (5), toasted mantou (2), and an eggplant dish in which the long thin Asian eggplant had been roasted and then sliced incompletely so that it lay in a pretty spiral under a sauce of ground meat, minced bell pepper, green onion, and garlic. Also I had a can of 7-Up, which they served with a cute little paper cup. The bill came to an exorbitant 22 RMB (almost $3), but I was stuffed and highly satisfied.
All the waitresses said friendly things as I was on the way out. I told them their food was delicious and they smiled and said, "Come again." I concluded that rudeness begets rudeness, and there was nothing wrong with the quality of the service. I will definitely be going back.
Here, to finish things off, are two pictures of the sunset on campus.
No comments:
Post a Comment