Professor in the Peace Corps

new address

Peter Vernezze — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 03:08:00 GMT

for my reflections on China since returning, see www.chinafromafar.com

I'm Finished

Peter Vernezze — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 23:32:00 GMT

three questions

Peter Vernezze — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 01:41:44 GMT

My last official act as a Peace Corps volunteer was an exit interview with the director of
Peace Corps in China.

She asked thre questions. ONe, what are you going to do when you get back, two, knowing
what you do now, what advice would you give yourself two years ago as you entered the
Peace Corps, three, what do you take away from all of this.

The first question was pretty easy for me to answer, for I will be returning to teach
at Weber State University.

I did not really have much of an answer for the second question. It seems everything that
was really essential I knew going in--that the time would go fast, that I should cherish
each moment, that there would be good days and bad days but the good would definitely
outweigh the bad. In retrspect, though I can think of a few things I would have added.
FIrst, I would advise myself coming the China two years ago not to waste any energy trying
to get the student's attention in the classroom. Don't expect them to stop talking
completely, or to not use their cell phones. YOu should aim for some sort of level of
reduction on this front, like in an arms control treaty. And definitely do not try to get
the students to keep quiet when other students are talking. I think I wasted a lot of energy
in attempts at classroom control that now strike me as somewhere between absurd and futile.
The other thing I would tell myself is to try to keep a journal. I made a half hearted
effort at one for a while and was looking over it the other day, and there was some interest
ing insights and memories contained within, and I wish I had done a better job at the
process. But at least I kept enough notes to work on the book about my experiences here.
A third thing I would tell myself, contrary to Peace Corps guidance, is not to focus more
on the written language than the spoken language. I have certainly enjoyed the time and
effort I have devoted to studying the written Chinese language (known as 'Hanzi').
Focusing on it would have led to a more overall knowledge of the language since I enjoyed
studying it, and I think ultimately would have improved my oral skills. I think a minimum
level oral proficiency is required, but in truth you can exist on very little and you are
not going to get proficient in two years, especially because you live in a region where
most people speak the dialect. So the written language was where my interest lay and I
should have devoted more time to that.

As for what I have taken away, well, it is hard to summarize. The Socrates Cafe has been
the source of beginning to learn about the culture here. I think I had come with the
assumption that all humans are the same and there are no significant differences. And
while I would say that is true at one level, I would now say there are significatn
differences. I don't have time here to illuminate them (this is the focus of the book I am
writing), but a recent book "The Geography of Thought," by Richard Nisbett offers some
interesting evidence for some claims about intellectual differences in Eastern and Western
cultures that have been borne out by a lot of my personal experiences and in the Socrates
Cafe. The claim of some significant differences was also at the heart of one of my favorite
books about China, My COuntry and MY People, by LIn Yutang, who was one of the major
cultural interpreters of China in the 30s, 40s and 50s in America. I think his writing
today would be branded not 'politically correct', but it bears out some of the ideas of
Nisbett as well as some of his own interesting observations and is certainly worth reading.

DOS (Description of Service)

Peter Vernezze — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 16:19:00 GMT

This is the letter that Peace Corps sends out describing the volunteer's serviice, hence called Description of Service. As you can tell it is a form letter in which you fill in the blanks. SO here is the last two years of my life

After a competitive application process stressing applicant skills, adaptability and cross-cultural understanding, Peter Vernezze was invited into Peace Corps service. He was assigned to teach English as a Foreign Language at Sichuan Normal University in Sichuan Province, People’s Republic of China.

Peter Vernezze entered training on July 1, 2006 participating in an intensive 10 week training program in Chengdu, Sichuan Province, China, which included approximately 200 hours of Chinese language/cross cultural classes, 100 hours of technical training on teaching English as a Foreign Language, education methodologies and curriculum design, and topics on the history, economics, political development, and cultural norms of China. As part of the technical training, Peter Vernezze completed 3 weeks of practice teaching in a model school.

At the completion of Pre-Service Training, Peter Vernezze was tested by a certified Foreign Language examiner. He scored a “high elementary” level in standard Chinese on the ACTFL testing scale.

Having successfully completed the comprehensive Pre-Service Training, Peter Vernezze was then sworn into service on September 7th, 2006.

He was responsible to Sichuan Normal University during his service in China. Peter Vernezze served as a full time English teacher assigned to Sichuan Normal University where he was one of 250 faculty members. The school offered four grades of study and had an enrollment of approximately 13, 000 students. Peter Vernezze reported directly to Yang Tianqing, Associate Director of the Office of International Education. Instruction was set in formal classroom settings exclusively for Chinese students.

Additionally, during his service Peter Vernezze worked with his students and Chinese colleagues in a myriad of capacities including:
1. Establishing a philosophical discussion group. The group, which met weekly for the duration of Peter Vernezze’s tenure at Sichuan Normal University, attracted a following both inside and outside of the Sichuan Normal University campus, and even came to the notice of National Public Radio when they spent a week in Chengdu.

2. Moderating a campus wide film series on classic and contemporary American films.

3. Participating in a three week session during summer 2007 at Sichuan Educational Institution. The session was designed to train Chinese middle school teachers in pedagogical methodology.

4. Presenting numerous campus-wide lectures to the Sichuan Normal University community.

5. Assisting the Sichuan University Office of International Education in their program to place students at American universities by recording a set of his philosophy course lectures for use by students.

At the completion of the Peace Corps Service in China, Peter Vernezze was re-tested by a certified Foreign Language examiner in late April 2008. He scored an “advanced low” level in standard Mandarin.

This is to certify in accordance with Executive Order 11103 of April 10, 1963, that Peter Vernezze served successfully as a Peace Corps Volunteer. His service ended on July 11, 2008. He is therefore eligible to be appointed as a career-conditional employee in the competitive civil service on a non-competitive basis. This benefit under the Executive Order extends for a period of one year after termination of Volunteer service, except that the employing agency may extend the period for up to three years for a former Volunteer who enters military service, pursues studies at a recognized institution of higher learning, or engages in other activities that, in the view of the appointing agency, warrant extension of the period.

Pursuant to Section 5 (f) of the Peace Corps Act, 22 U.S.C. No. 2504 (f) as amended, any former Volunteer employed by the United States Government following his/her Peace Corps service is entitled to have any period of satisfactory Peace Corps Volunteer service credited for purposes of retirement, seniority, reduction in force, leave or other privileges based on length of government service. Peace Corps service shall not be credited toward completion of a probationary or trial period or completion of any service requirement for career appointment

100 hours

Peter Vernezze — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 14:59:00 GMT

By my calculations, there is about 100 hours left in my Peace Corps service. The official COS (close of
service) date is Friday July 11th, at midnight, to be exact. The official COS is August 10th, but you can leave up to a month early. Almost every one in my group (China 12) has chosen this early COS. I have begun the process of closing things down here. Today I made it into the Peace Corps office with another volunteer and did some of the initial paperwork, which included signing multiple forms, giving them your final travel itinerary, agreeing to release your DOS (description of service,which is essentially what potential employers will get in lieu of a letter of recommendation from the Peace Corps--if I can find mine, I will post it here), acknowledging that you have been informed about health insurance options, releasing Peace Corps from responsibility, etc. Tomorrow I have my final medical exam, which includes bringing along a couple of stool samples (always fun to prepare those). I have to bring in the equipment the Peace Corps has supplied, including my air purifier, water distiller, bicycle helmet, smoke hood, CO2 and fire detector and medical kit. The director wants to have a final exit interview. After tomorrow the last thing I will have to do is to bring the form signed by the head of the Foreign Student Office on my campus that my room is cleaned up and everything is as I found it.

I still have a lot of stuff to give away. Brought some books and dvds into the Peace Corps office, gave my dvd player and a few odds and ends to my site mate, Kristin, who went off to her summer project last night in Leshan, so I treated her to one of her favorite places to eat, the buffett at the Shangri La hotel, a 5 star hotel. Trying to find other people to pass stuff off to in order to get my baggage weight down for the trip home.

To complete the circle, the new group of volunteers (China 14s) began their training and I ran into a group of them today

Application statement, part 3

Peter Vernezze — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 01:53:00 GMT

Personal and Professional Goals (2006)
"On the Peace Corps web page under "Who Volunteers?" there is a listing for "transition points." This certainly describes where I am at and a large part of why I volunteered. I have spent fifteen years as a college philosophy professor and one of theings I want to determine is whether this is the career path I wish to continue on. SInce I have been given a two year leave of absence by my university , it is open for me to return to my job or to go in another direction. I am truly hoping to use my time in the Peace Corps to gain some clarity on this issue.

But I am also tremendously looking forward to learning about and living in a culture that I have studied somewhat and always admired. One of the subjects I teach is Eastern philosophy, and I am certain my understanding of Eastern philosophy will be tremendously enriched by this experience. Inddeed, I may decided to direct my scholarship towards Chinese thought should I return to academia. At the very least, I will learn much more about China than I could ever hope to learn through books"

(2008)
Well, the first thing that comes to mind was that if I thought and/or hoped to be any clearer about my future, I am afraid that did not happen. Maybe part of the problem was that I essentially taught for two years and it wasn't really time away. Be that as it may I will return to teaching still wildy unenthusiastic about continuing along that path and keeping an eye out for other possibilities. So the time in the Peace Corps hasn't really helped to resolve that, although in my essay on why I joined in the Chronicle of Higher Education I was skeptical about whether anything would happen in this area over the two years. But even if it did not offer me a genuine break from teaching or grant me any clarity about the future, it was easily the most interesting two years of my life. If you had asked me one culture in the world that it would be fascinating to learn about, I would have picked China and still do, both for its five thousand year tradition and for the role it is playing and will play on the world stage. NO, there is no where else I would have been. It's been an incredible two years and if anyone is thinking about joining the Peace Corps I would encourage them whole heartedly.

It reminds me a little bit of when I spent a semster in Florence. My thought was in choosing to go there, I don't think anyone on their death bed says, 'you know, I really wish I hadn't spent that semester in FLorence.' And I don't think anyone who completes the service to the Peace Corps regrets it either.

Application statement, part 2

Peter Vernezze — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 01:31:00 GMT

The second part of my application statement was on:

Strategies for adapting to a new culture(2006)

"As far as adapting to a new culture, I have had soome experience on this subject, though admittedly nothing akin to spending two years in China. In addition to having travelled extensively in Western Europe, Eastern Europe and the Middle East, I have spent six months living in Greece and a semester in Italy. So I know what it is like to live in another culture and not just pass through. On both occasions, I occupied rather small rooms without private bath--accomdations I think most of my colleagues would have found cramped but which were perfectly fine for me. I understand that in China things will be even more spartan and unfamiliar. But in short I am not a high maintenance sort of person. Until recently, I could fit all I own into a station wagon. So while I know living in China for two years will be a great adjustmetn, it is one I believe my track record shows that I am prepared to handle.

As for the psychological adjustment of living in another culture, I have traveled enough to know that one must be receptive when one enters another culture and respectful of that culture's way of doing things. This is the way I have approached every culture I have ever visited. One man strategy I have is to follow and not to lead, to listen more than to speak, in short, to take the passive role and let the culture teach me. It is a way of looking at the world that has served me well in my past travels and I trust will do so in CHina."

(2008)
I certainly think travelling and living in another culture is a pretty good indicator of how you will do in the Peace Corps. The first person to drop out of our training group was one that I thought had the perfect personality for the Peace Corps but had never been overseas. I imagine this is something Peace Corps recruiters look for. I have to say as well that I think living in Utah was an excellent preparation for living in another culture. As I have often said, there is no place in America that is less like America. I have truly felt like an outsider there. But as Nietzsche said, what does not kill me makes me stronger. And the Utah experience gave me good training in what it is like to feel the displacement of living in another culture. Certainly the culture got to me at times, as it does to everyone here. I think the best piece of advice is to adopt a humility. I think one reasons Americans notoriously have difficulties travelling is that they do tend to be more aggresive and assertive, and that is simply no way to be much less to exist for any length of time in another culture. If I had one piece of advice that seems very CHina specific and that I did not know when I came, it would be to NEVER, NEVER TELL ANYONE HERE WHAT YOU ARE REALLY THINKING OR FEELING. They are not tellng you anything that goes below the surface and that is the level you need to stay at. It applies most to things like being angry or frustrated, which you should never under any conditions show over here. But it also applies to your opinions, ideas, et cetera. Assume you are a laboratory rat and act accordingly. Realize you are being observed, watched and analyzed. And try to observe, watch and analyze right back. That is the best way to survive, I would say. I got a little better at this as time went on, but it took some time to realize it and more to put it into practice.

Mud hut experience

Peter Vernezze — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 23:29:00 GMT

As part of the application process for the Peace Corps, we write an "Aspirations Statement," in which we give our Expectations, Strategies for adapting to a new culture, and personal and professional goals.Peace Corps returned our original statement to us at the Close of Service conference. It has been almost two years to the day since the volunteers first showed up in San Franciso to begin this journey, and I thought I would reflect on each of these components:

Expectations (2006):

At my in person interview for the Peace Coprs, I was asked whether there was any specific location or assignment I had in mind. My interviewer noted that some people simply do not want to state a preference but in a way wouldrather let the universe decide for them. I noted I could relate to that way of looking at the world. Although I did offer a few suggestions, in truth, I had no specific place I wanted to be nor anything specific that I wanted to do: I simply wanted to be of service. So when te assignment offered was different than the one I had signed up for, I was not in the least reluctant to switch. My one test, that I be of use. was passed in the letter that stated the China program was in desperated need of university professors. Even though I had initially relished the idea of getting away from teaching for a few years, I understood that I should not run away from my talent and the one unique contribution I could make. In one sense, I will be in a place very familiar to me (the classroom), where I have been a teacher for over twenty years, if you include my time in graduate school. And though the subjects I am teaching will obviously be different than the ones I had in the past, in a sense, teachin is stil teaching. BUt in a much more important sense, of course, I will be in an unfamiliar land teaching new material to a completely different group of students. And that is precisely the challenge I signed on form

Reflections(2008):

The term is "mud hut experience." It referst to the fact that many Peace Corps volunteers join up with the expectation and even the desire to be living in a mud hut in Africa for two years. Many are disappointed to find out that their assignment puts them in an urban center with most of the comforts they knew back home. This is not only the case in China but in manhy of the Peace Corps assignments around the world that focus on teaching English. It is also true of many of the other assignments. What they tell us now is "this isn't your mother's/grandmother's Peace Corps." ANd while it is true, Peace Corps is somewhat to blame for this expectation as they don't really advertise this aspect of their assignments. The posters and advertising in fact play up on the mud hut experience. I guess I initially had that sort of idea in my mind to some degree as well. ANd while you certainly must adapt over here, breathing bad air, making your own water, dealing with the culture daily. it ain't no mud hut, unless you get to have a laptop in a mud hut. It was certainly more than enough compensation for not being in a mud hut to be in a culture as important as CHina, both in terms of its tradition and history and in terms of the role it will play in the world. I am not so sure I would have felt that way about being at one of the other urban teaching assignments around the world, though of course had I spent two years there I might feel different.

This year group of volunteers is only about two thirds of last year's group because China is requiring hiring qualifications. I have heard that Peace COrps is now considerring specifically recruiting for the China assignment, which they have not done for any assignment in the past. The policy has been that youu sign up and they tell you where to go. Now with the additional requirements for CHina, they are considerring changing the process and seeking out people and telling them they can have that particular assignment. I think it's a good idea

essay end

Peter Vernezze — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 11:39:00 GMT

When it came time to choose my final movie, there was not a doubt in my mind about what I wanted that selection to be. Duck Soup is not only my favorite film of all time but is on AFI’s list of one hundred greatest American films—the only true comedy on the list. What a culture finds funny is at least as relevant as anything else about that culture, and it was uncontroversial that Duck Soup had become a defining American comic film. How else to explain its popularity after more than seventy five years? To leave it out of a film series of American culture would either constitute benign neglect or dereliction of duty, depending upon how you looked at it.
Of course, there were obviously many arguments to be made against showing the film, not the least of which was its age. At more than seventy five years old, it was older than John McCain and would be by far the oldest film in the series. Would students have the patience for something so obviously dated in some ways? In addition, Groucho’s quick tongue humored and Chico’s puns would probably be completely lost on my students, despite the best subtitles and any attempt at explanation on my part. (I had recently discovered the limits of explanation with my showing of the Dylan biopic “I’m Not There,” which, despite an extensive introduction, completely baffled them.) I was also worried about the political content of the film. Duck Soup is one of the great anti-war films and was even banned in Mussolini’s Italy. I was not sure it would slip by the censors at Sichuan Normal. Despite these misgivings, I went ahead and submitted the film, had it approved, and prepared myself for the showing.
The pre-film lecture began with a pie in the face. Not literally, although I did contemplate staging an incident of someone launching a pie towards m at the start of my talk. But the organizers were at first confused by and then aghast at my suggestion. Besides, it would probably not have been possible to find a pie anyway. So I settled for a Google image search instead and put the result on the opening slide of my power point presentation titled, “What is Funny?”
In philosophy there are three general theories of humor, and each has its own interpretation of what makes a pie in the face funny. Incongruity Theory sees humor as a response to an incongruity—a term broadly used to include ambiguity, logical impossibility, irrelevance, and inappropriateness. Since a pie is something we generally eat and do not have tossed at us, seeing someone get hit with a pie is unexpected. According to the philosopher Thomas Hobbes, who is credited with first setting forth what has come to be known as “Superiority Theory,” humor arises from a "sudden glory" felt when we recognize our supremacy over others. Obviously, in the case of the pie in the face, we feel superior to the person who got hit with the pie in the face. Freud is most often associated with the “Relief Theory,” which sees humor as fundamentally a way to release or save energy generated by repression. One might hypothesize that we have a fear of being embarrassed, and hence can release that fear when we see someone else embarrassed by being hit with a pie in the face.
Whatever the explanations, students weren’t laughing. A pie in the face may be as American as, well, apple pie. But it is not, I discovered, a universally accepted archetype of funny. In a country where loss of face is the greatest fear, I should have guessed that literally losing your face in a pie would be more horrific than humorous.
Next I tried to explain Duck Soup in the context of a theory of humor. Here, I argued that incongruity theory actually worked pretty well in explaining the general premise of the movie. Groucho is intended to be out of place as the ruler of a country, more at home in a pool hall than in a palace.If Chico and Harpo seemed dressed rather shabbily, this is not merely a cultural convention of the time. They are meant to look like hobos, and the suggestion that they could be the spies they are portrayed to be in the film is supposed to be absurd. I argued that the humor of the premise of the movie lay in how obviously out of place the characters are in their roles.
To illustrate my point, I put up on the screen an image of “The Beverly Hillbillies.” This, I pointed out, was the most popular comedy show in American television history. The premise, that a bunch of hillbillies strike it rich in oil and move in among the stylish and wealthy, is a classic instance of incongruity. The fact that they are so out of place is what makes it funny. Imagine, I added, that some Chinese peasant found himself in the same situation. They seemed a little more receptive to the humor of this situation than to the pie in the face.
Finally I took a swing at explaining some of the verbal humor in the film. Much of the Marx Brothers humor of course consists in puns. Fortunately, there is a similar notion in Chinese, the shuang guanyu—a phrase that deliberately exploits confusion between similar-sounding words for humorous or rhetorical effect. I reviewed a couple of the better known ones, between ‘tanks’ and “thanks” and ‘dollars, taxes’ and “Dallas, Texas.” .
And then we were ready to begin. Or so I thought. Technical glitches have plagued the series. As I pointed out, “Good Night and Good Luck” simply would not play, suspiciously so, if you ask me. The lighting for the copy of “Cinderella Man” made parts of the film unwatchable. The subtitles kept switching between Mandarin and Korean during “Casablanca” and completely went off during the crucial final scene. “Bobby” just stopped playing with about ten minutes to go. As far as my students know, Bobby Kennedy is still alive. So I should not have been surprised that things were no different tonight, the night of my last showing. I was first told the computer could not read the film, and then that there were no subtitles. My alternate film for the evening was the other Marx Brothers film I had been able to find, Monkey Business. But of course, Monkey Business is no Duck Soup. I was reluctantly to throw in the towel on Duck Soup when one of the computer savvy students in the audience came to my assistance.
Once things started rolling, I was curious when the first laugh would be. My fear was that they would start to giggle at something not intended to be funny—Margaret Dumont’s stilted and theatrical performance, or Zeppo breaking into song—and hence spoil the true humor of the movie. In fact, the first chuckle comes when Groucho, finding out Margaret Dumont is loaded, begins romantically pursuing her. “Can’t you see what I’m trying to tell you, I love you,” he replies after she reveals her husband has left her his entire fortune. But it is not until Harpo shows up at the front of the palace driving a motorcycle supposedly to escort Grouch off the premises but in fact takes off alone leaving Grouch in the sidecar that the first legitimate guffaw breaks out. Each subsequent time Harpo pulls up on the motorcycle is similarly greeted with laughter. In fact, it should come as no surprise that Harpo will continue to be the laugh leader for the evening, since his humor is not at all bound by language. Groucho does have a few moments. At the first cabinet meeting, for example, when the finance minister tries to introduce a discussion of the taxes and Groucho says that is new business to discuss later, only to be told “too late, that’s old business” when he subsequently brings it up seconds later. But for the most part it is Harpo’s moment to shine tonight, whether it is he and Chico reporting their spying activity on Groucho, or Harpo showing Groucho his tattoos, or Chico and Harpo fighting in front of the lemonade stand. And of course, there is the mirror scene, though I am never sure whether it is Chico or Harpo performing in that.
When the movie ends I try to direct the discussion to some of the more serious elements of the film, in particular to the fact that “Duck Soup” is viewed as one of the great anti-war films. They catch on that by showing a country recklessly led into war on the whim of an emotionally unstable leader the film can criticize all countries’ rush to war. They also don’t miss the most recent historical parallel: “Like Bush?” someone in the audience asks, and I nod.
“But this is a serious point. Why make a funny movie about it?”
Humor, I reply, has been used to make serious political points in the West since Aristophanes and to poke holes at political leaders. I recall that the Cultural Revolution was sparked in part in response to a play seen as being critical of the communist leadership. This play was not a comedy but was set in an earlier historical period in order to divert its true intention (which was nevertheless discovered). In the West, I remark, that subterfuge might have been attempted by a comedy rather than an historical analogy.
It’s just that they don’t seem to find anything funny about politics. They take great delight when Americans criticize its leaders, especially its president, but this is not something they neither understand nor admire. In fact, they think it is rather shameful. Political leaders are revered here and certainly not the brunt of jokes. The movie’s caricature of political leaders, saying in effect they are all swindlers and cheats and Groucho can succeed because he essentially beats them at their own game, is more cynicism than the audience could handle. That we can joke about such matters is more evidence of the decadence of the West
Here, at the end of my tenure, I close with a realization of the cultural divide we confront: we can laugh at some of the same things, but not at all of them. But at least we can laugh at some of the same things. It is somehow comforting to reflect on this fact as the lights are turned out and I walk out of Room 112 for the last time

part 6

Peter Vernezze — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 00:29:00 GMT

There was never any doubt in my mind what film I would use to lead things off with were I to be given the chance to show classic American films as part of the film series. So when at the start of my second year English Fans Association gave me the green light, the only question was whether I would be able to find what was in my mind the sine qua non of any American film series. Weeks of scouring DVD booths had netted a reasonable collection of titles on the American Film Institute’s list on top one hundred American films: On the Waterfront, Harvey, Taxi Driver, The Godfather, Patton, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Casablanca, Rocky, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Dr. Strangelove, The Graduate, and Singin’ in the Rain. But it was about a week before the deadline for me to submit my film list that I was able to track down a copy of Citizen Kane with Chinese subtitles.
Granted, it was not the most original choice. Indeed, it is worth asking, in a film series intended to teach about American culture, what exactly one learns about the aforementioned subject from Citizen Kane. The larger than life Kane is something of an iconic American figure. Not quite a self-made man but one who through the sheer force of his personality manages to impose himself on the American consciousness. On display as well is the opulent wealth many associate with America. But at the heart of the movie, and one of the elements responsible for its greatness, is the tragedy of Kane, a man unable to love, and this tragedy is universal more than simply American. For all of this, it still seemed to me safer to include than to leave out what is by general consensus the greatest American film..
I begin the post-film discussion with the familiar Citizen Kane mantra just to make sure everyone is on the same page. “Rosebud is the name of the sled, right?” Before the film I had advised them to pay special attention to the term not only because understanding it was crucial to understanding the movie but also because I would ask them about it at the end. In response to my query, they all nod. But it is that way they have of nodding here when they have no idea what you said but do not want to appear clueless. I have witnessed that nod enough times in my classroom to recognize and dread it. Indeed, by now I should know better than to ask any question remotely formulated as “do you understand?” because they will invariably say “yes.” To say no, you do not understand, would be to risk losing face.
After asking the fifth person and getting no response, it dawns on me that no one here knows what the hell a “sled” is. They had never learned the word and who can blame them? It is doubtless not a high frequency term in a climate without snow and a culture without a Christmas tradition. But I also think the problem was not merely informational but metaphysical as well. In The Geography of Thought, Richard E. Nisbett argues for differences in the way Easterners and Westerners perceive reality. Westerners tend to view the world as made up of discrete objects, while Easterners focus more on the relations between objects. A sled in the snow and a sled about to be tossed in the fire is still the same sled for the Westerner. But take the sled out of its context for the Easterner, and it is has an entirely different reality. This explanation, which did not occur to me until I had read through Nisbett’s book much later, still seems to me the most accurate explanation for their confusion at the end of the film.
In any case, we soon moved past this mix up to discuss some of the more substantive issues of the movie. One of the things I admired about the audience for these films, perhaps because it reflected one of my own tendencies in watching movies, is that they invariably wanted to know what moral of the movie was, what the filmmaker wanted us to take away from the film. Granted, there is nothing wrong with watching a film just to be entertained. But my student audience in China perceived of this as a less important aspect of a film that what lesson it was supposed to teach
When it came to discussing the moral of Kane’s life, we returned, if not to the sled itself at least to the idea of the sled. Here, Nisbett seems relevant as well to understanding the shape of the discussion, though again it was not until months afterwards that I ran across his book. He argues that while Westerners attribute behavior to personal agency, Easterners are much more likely to ascribe it to the context of the situation. As a result, they tend to be more sympathetic to the idea that external events cause people to behave the way they do. This, at least, was precisely how the audience interpreted Kane’s actions. The main reason offered up to explain his difficulty in loving others was that he himself failed to receive love growing up. This group seemed to be channeling Aristotle as well, describing Kane as not a particularly virtuous person but not a bad person either, which is of course one of the main attributes of the classic tragic figure according to the Poetics. By the end of the discussion I was far from certain that I had been able to convey the greatness of the film, or that they were particularly impressed. But I at least felt I had discharged the duty on my end. They had watched the greatest American film.

How to follow this up? Can anything that follows the greatest American film but be a disappointment? Fortunately, as I said, they were not that taken with Citizen Kane. I doubt most American undergraduates would be either. I was pretty sure, though, that the next movie would go over well. Chinese students love a good love story, especially a tragic one. Titanic is far and away student’s favorite film as my culture class surveys showed. Of course, this is in part because roughly ninety percent of my students are female. But so was ninety percent of the audience for movie night. So I felt pretty sure that the classic version of Titanic would be a hit. Like the Leonardo DiCaprio movie, the hero in Casablanca does not get the girl in the end either. But at least Bogie has the good sense not to die.
I only found out afterwards that the Communist Party had originally booked the room for the evening, but that they graciously gave it over to the foreigner. I would like to think nostalgia had something to do with it. After all, we were allies during World War II. In addition to this auspicious event, the film started with the most lavish introduction to any film in the series, as the student who had taken control of the English Fans Association, Lionel, put together a full fledged power point presentation, beginning with taking the students on a Google earth flight from Chengdu to Casablanca and ending with a recorded version of the song “Casablanca”—a song which I had never even heard of—while stills from the movie flashed across the screen
But despite the good omens, the film faltered out of the starting blocks as the movie was plagued with technical difficulties. To begin, it turned out the DVD had a commentary track on it, which we were never able to get off the screen. It kept flashing tidbits of information in Mandarin at fairly regular intervals throughout the film. In addition, the subtitles kept switching languages. I counted five: Mandarin, Korean, Spanish, Arabic and English. But I think I may have missed one. Whenever this would happen someone would have to jump up and switch back to the original. Fortunately, things calmed down enough for the audience to laugh during the famous “shocked, shocked” line, as Claude Rains tells Bogie he is shutting down the Café because he found there is gambling on the premise—just as he is being given his winnings. But the problem reemerges near the end so that no one knew what the hell was going on when Bogart shoots the German general and Louie lies about it and I have to spend the first ten minutes of the discussion time clearing this up.
The discussion afterwards demonstrated at least that they had understood the basic dynamic of the movie as we begin to engage in the classic “should she or shouldn’t she” have stayed with Bogie. I was pretty convinced I knew where they were going to come down based on a recent culture class where I had shown Lady Chatterly’s Lover, or at least the first twenty or so minutes, which was all that was really safe to watch on the version I was showing. At the point where Lord Chatterly suggests that his wife take a lover, I stopped and I asked the students what they thought she should do. Sentiments ran pretty strongly in one direction. The following comments were typical: “If she loves her husband, she will not do this. Because the love exists in spiritual, not sex.” “As you and your husband love and respect each other, you shouldn’t have the affair as it will do harm to your relationship.” One of the more novel and popular suggestions was that she divorce her husband but continue to look after him.
In any case, there was a strong sentiment towards marital fidelity, and I thought that would probably win the day here. But in fact, the majority of students wanted her to stay with Bogart, and when I mentioned that one version of the movie had actually been written with that ending, they said that is the one they would have preferred.
I had missed one crucial difference between the Casablanca scenario and the Lady Chatterly scenario. The latter was about sex, not love. Once they became convinced that Ingmar Bergman loved Bogie, all bets were off.
The next film was a bona fide hit, surprisingly so. Who knew a film about a six foot invisible rabbit would be such a big hit? But Harvey was the runaway favorite of the film series. I think it speaks well of the character of anyone these days if they can appreciate and enjoy this film. I am pretty sure my students in the States would be much too cynical. All the worse for them. But their reaction endeared these students to me forever. Here are some of their reactions:
          “This is a real classic film. After seeing the film, I think everyone has a Harvey. Because, in my opinion, Harvey stands for the good or happy things which we are looking for. What's more, Harvey may also be a representation of the wonderful things that remain in our memory for a long time.”
           “Although the rabbit in the movie is invisible, he exists in Elwood's heart. When Elwood is lonely or depressed, he could turn to the rabbit for help, so he feels happy together with the rabbit...And Elwood is very friendly and kind-hearted to everyone. In our real world, we need more of this kind of people. Maybe this is what the movie teaches us.”
            “I don't think Elwood is crazy and I believe Harvey really exists. In fact, many people like to talk with themselves or other symbols of themselves. Sometimes it's a rabbit, a tiger, etc. The only thing distinguished us from Dowd is that we have not the courage to introduce our "Harvey" to others.”
          “I don't think Elwood is crazy. Elwood just want to get happy life and a loyal friend. Harvey is the pookey that Elwood imagine and want to share is happiness and sorrow with. I think Elwood is very lovely and kind and clever. He want everyone who he loves and all his friends to be happy.”
       “Maybe the film just want to tell us something about our dream or something that is difficult to gain. At this time, people may imagine something just like the pookah to console themselves. I'm not sure, but I think this is a good film. I learned a lot from this movie.”

part 5

Peter Vernezze — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:16:00 GMT

I probably could have guessed the reaction to the next film in the series, World Trade Center. I was certainly familiar with the polls that showed attitudes around the world about Americans in the wake of 9/11. But it is one thing to be aware of something in a theoretical fashion, and quite another to experience first hand.
This was the only film for which I provided no formal introduction. I simply said, “This is a film, based on a true story, about the events that happened in America on September 11th, 2001.”
After the lights came back on, rather than following the tradition and having them ask me questions, I passed out a short survey. It read:

Circle the one that best represents your view:
a. The U.S. bears no responsibility for the terrorist attacks on September 11th
b. The U.S. is partly responsible for the terrorist attacks on September 11th
c. The U.S. is mostly responsible for the terrorist attacks on September 11th

Roughly eighty percent of those who turned in the survey believed the U.S. to be at least partly responsible for the terrorist attacks on September 11th. Twenty percent marked ‘c’, while no one circled ‘a’. When I tried to codify the majority response in a number, that is, how much responsibility the U.S. bore, that number was a disturbing 50%. Most people in this room thought the U.S. bore equal responsibility with the terrorists for the events of 9/11.
To write something down on a sheet of paper is one thing. Surely, the students would be less confrontational in their questions and comments, not wanting to risk insulting a visiting American teacher. Or not.
“Why do Americans think they are so superior?”
“What do you mean?” I responded.
“They just go into any country they like and take what they want.”
Like going into Iraq to get oil?” I replied
“Yes.”
“How many people,” I asked, agree that America thinks it is superior to the rest of the world?” A majority of hands in the room shot up.
At this point, I made a strategic decision not to respond. My sense was that Americans have been doing enough defending of their country against international criticism. It might be time simply to listen. When someone is really angry at you, sometimes it’s best just to let them vent without trying to defend yourself. Since they feel justified in their anger, your response is not going to be persuasive anyway. And they might respect the fact that you just let them have their say.
“What,” I followed up, “would America have to do to make you feel differently about it?”
The ensuing silence can be explained, I think, not by the fact that the task for America was hopeless and that nothing we could do would change world opinion. Rather, I think a more plausible reading of their inability to respond to this question is that no one had ever asked them this before.
“Think about it,” I said, “and maybe write down some suggestions for me afterwards.”
It seemed they were just getting started. “Did America feel chastened and humbled after 9/11? Did it realize it might not be the “city on the hill” (their words) favored and protected by God?”
This was not the place to give a long discourse on the problem of evil and how believers reconcile their faith with the terrible events that happen in the world. I simply stated that no, no one’s view of their country had been changed by the events of 9/11. In fact, some may think America even more special after that day. They seemed to understand this line of reasoning even if I did not.
After clearing up some of the historical misperceptions, both for the justification of the first Iraq war and the rationale of the 9/11 bombers, someone asked what I thought about this. What would I have circled on the survey I passed out?
A fair question, I thought, but not one I was willing to answer. “I am here to listen to your views,” I said, “not to give my own.”
“But it is not fair to have us give our opinions and not to give yours”
I had to admit the questioner had a point. O.K. I said, here goes. I said that in my view it was a moral issue. Since it is never justified to kill an innocent person and the people in the Twin Towers were innocent, the terrorists alone were responsible for the events of 9/11.
When I think back, I can see why this response pretty much killed the discussion. The students were used to me—and many other Americans—criticizing President Bush. They themselves made no distinction between the leader and the country. President Hu Jintao is China. So if Americans criticize President Bush, they must also be very critical of America. When it turned out I would defend my country against the claim of being morally blameworthy, then it became clear that to continue criticizing America would be to risk insulting a visitor, and they were not going to do that.
As I was going through their written comments afterwards I was getting pretty depressed. Not angry at the students for feeling the way they do, but hopeless that attitudes would ever change. Finally there came on comment that provided at least a ray of hope: “We need peace and we can make it peaceful”

Sometimes current events would dictate my choice of a movie. That was the case with the next film in the series, Elephant, Gus van Sant’s fictionalized retelling of the massacre at Columbine High School, which was selected as a way to generate discussion about the shootings at Virgnia Tech.
I was surprised that the shootings received the publicity they did over here.
True, it was a spectacularly violent incident. But there are many violent incidents daily around the globe. The fact that this one received the press it did over her can best be explained by the fact that events that played into negative stereotypes of Americans tend to get a lot of press here.
Soon after arriving in China I noticed that stories concerning that favorite American foible, obesity, appeared on the pages of the English language China daily with amazing frequency. In the same way, the shootings at Virginia Tech, because they confirmed another common negative stereotypes about America—that America is a vey violent and disturbed country—became a source of fascination. (As long as were listing stereotypes, a third very popular one is that Americans don’t love their children). Before April 16th, 2007, none of my students could have pointed to Virginia (or almost anyplace in America) on a map. Now, not only my English majors, who would have a predisposition to follow American current events, but students from all disciplines, seemed unnaturally versed in the details of the crime.
In fact, I first learned of the shootings at Virginia Tech not from the media but when a student approached me as I was walking to class one morning. I thought at first she was asking me for some information about the killings at Columbine High School. No, she explained. This had just happened at a university in America. There was, not gleefulness, but a certain satisfaction as she broke this news to me. It wasn’t quite, “you people are violent barbarians who kill your own.” But it wasn’t far from that either.
. Admittedly showing Elephant did not seem the best way to fight that stereotype. As my Peace Corps site mate, Spencer, succinctly put it: “Why do you want to open up that can of worms?” His point was well taken. When opinions are as settled and set in concrete, logic and reason seem impotent. Witness any political debate in America. To the Chinese, living in a land that that outlawed private gun ownership, America was a hopelessly violent nation. Nothing I could say in an evening was going to change their opinion. To a large extent, I shared their concerns about the level of violence in my country, though invariably in discussions with students on this topic, I wound up sounding like a member of the NRA.
Just a few days after the shooting, I had a conversation with a freshman at the East campus where I had gone to give a talk. Afterwards I wanted to stroll the campus grounds, which are quite pleasant, but she persisted in accompanying me so she could practice her English. Along the way, she ended up grilling me about American gun violence.
“Why do you need guns in America?”
“Some people have them to protect themselves,” I replied.
“That is what we have the police for in China.”
“But who is going to protect you from the police?” said my inner Charlton Heston.
She seemed simply not to understand that one. “Suppose you are going to get raped. You could not fight off the rapist with yourself. But if you had a gun, you might be able to stop him.”
“This situation does not happen with China.”
When pressed, she informed me that women who are raped more or less ask for it.
This is about the level of the discussion I brace myself for as the movie ends with the horrific slow motion scene of the students mercilessly gunning down their classmates.
What, I wonder, will the first question hit on? Will they begin with a direct assault on America? Or will they limit their questions to the details of the movie? It’s a compelling enough film that perhaps we will just discuss it. Will they ask me for my views on the issue? What will I say?
All these are floating in my head so that I barely look at the woman who poses the first question so concerned am I to set the proper tone for the discussion.
Can you start your question again, I request, thinking I must have heard it wrong.
“Yes,” she says. “In the school cafeteria, the students get their lunch, but they do not pay for it. Is this common in America?”

I showed the last movie of my first year, Al Gore’s “An Inconvenient Truth,” months before he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. But if I had been expecting the sort of powerful emotional reaction that followed most American screenings of this film, I would have been greatly disappointed. Fortunately, I had gradually been giving up my expectations for the discussion and was getting better at letting them go in their own direction.
Gone tonight was both the outrage at the destruction of the environment impressingly detailed in the film’s power point presentation as well as the scepticism regarding its more controversial claims expressed in some corners. The two propositions that are the cause of such debate in America (a) that the planet’s temperature is increasing (b) that humans are the cause of it were accepted by a unanimous show of hands afterwards.
After two minutes, it seemed we had run out of things to talk about. Fortunately, they did disagree on whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, and someone related, not for the first time in my experience in China, the story about the runaway horse. The story comes from the second century BCE Huainanzi, but is familiar to many around the world who have never heard of this work. A man loses his horse. His neighbors want to commiserate with him on his loss, but the man responds that this may be good fortune. Sure enough, the horse soon returns bringing along with him many other horses, causing the neighbors to congratulate the man, who warily responds that this may in fact be bad luck. When his son breaks his leg riding one of the new horses, his neighbors agree with him on this verdict. But the man is too quick for them. Who knows, he says, this may be good fortune, and seems to be proven right when an army comes through looking for to conscript volunteers and do not take his son because of the injury.
Instead of being inspired to fight the menace of global warming, the students seemed resigned to accepting its inevitability. At first, I thought this showed some lack of character on their part. The film ends with a list of things that the viewer can do to combat global warming, and I recall on first seeing this film on being inspired to do my part in the campaign against this environmental evil and to be a good eco-warrior. But tonight, perhaps because of the setting, I began viewing my initial optimism with a more Eastern eye. The film had been pretty stark. Massive changes were under way with respect to the warming of the planet that probably could not be altered, or at least without a massive global effort that simply was not likely to occur.
Changing light bulbs and writing my congressmen would only accomplish so much. These students had no congressperson to write and could not possibly consume less anyway. What was there to do except wait for the horse to return

part 4

Peter Vernezze — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 01:00:00 GMT

The next film up was supposed to be “Good Night and Good Luck,” about the communist witch hunt in America and the newsman, Edward R.Murrow, who stood up to Sen. Joe McCarthy. In truth, I was surprised they had approved this film, given its hostile characterization of communism in places. In my rationale for showing the film, I pointed out that those critical of communism are portrayed in a largely negative manner and mostly the film is about how some in America overreacted to the spreading presence of Communism. I was incredibly curious what my students’ reactions would be: whether they would draw any parallel between the American government’s suppression of dissenting voices and that of their own country’s. Unfortunately, I never got to find out because the film simply would not play. Hmmm. Fortunately, I had brought along a couple of other films just in case, as I had learned from numerous experiences that you always needed a plan B over here. So I showed “Crash.” Showcasing racism and gun violence, it was bound to be a real winner
Here are some of the written questions I received :

1. “It seems that every family owns their guns in America? Is that right? Could you tell us something about guns in America?”
2. “Was the racial discrimination between the white and the black really very serious in America in the past?”
3. “I want to know if the black man are treated like that in the movie?”
4. “I just can’t understand why the black man is so polite to the white policeman? If he fight against the policeman, what will the results be?”
5. “I want to know why there are so many dangerous places in America in people’s everyday life? It seems to make us feel that if a white policeman point a gun at your head, he may easily shoot you. Why?
6. “What exactly does the movie want to tell us?”
7. Why aren’t there any Chinese in the film?

I am not sure this was the wisest choice. It seemed to confirm many of their fears about what a dangerous place America is, despite my assurances that they would be able to travel almost anywhere in America in complete safety. People literally screamed at the scene where the Iranian shop owner pulls a trigger and seems to shoot a little girl by accident. This scene also provided a lesson in screening films to see whether there were any scenes that might require additional explanation. In a culture where private ownership of guns is banned, no one knew what a blank was, and so they were extremely puzzled as to why the girl did not die. Many thought it was a miracle.

Part 3

Peter Vernezze — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 00:35:00 GMT

The venue would stay the same for all of the films. Room 112 in Classroom Building Seven is an auditorium style classroom that had seen its better days. Rows of worn wooden chairs are mounted into place behind long, metal shelving serving as desktops and divided into three sections. A two tier chalkboard runs nearly the length of the front the room, but for movie nights a less than theater sized but sufficient screen drops down. Tonight, the projection on the screen reads: “Cinderella Man/The Great Depression/A Presentation by Dr. Vee.” It’s the name I am known by on campus, since my real last name is simply too much of a tongue twister. Tonight, I lecture briefly before the film on some of the causes, effects and cures of the Great Depression, though in truth I don’t think I told them anything they didn’t already know. My sense is that my Chinese students were more knowledgeable about U.S. history than my American students. The movie runs more or less without a hitch and then it’s time for questions. Most students prefer to write them down and have me read them, since they lack confidence in their English speaking ability.

This is not the case, however, with the first query. It is from a neatly dressed, serious looking young man sporting a crew cut and speaking nearly fluent English and who turns out to be a senior math major accepted into graduate school at Purdue. He points out that American virtues such as self reliance and courage seemed to be on display in the film. The main character not only manages to take care of himself and his family through difficult times, but also succeeds through his own effort in winning the heavyweight championship of the world. Does the glorification of these character traits constitute the central theme of the film?

Even at that time, early on in my stay in China, the view that most Chinese have of Americans was already pretty clear. The situation could perhaps best be illustrated by my British and American culture class, where I would start each term by asking students what character traits they associated with being an American. Individualistic and self-reliant were in everybody’s top three, with ambitious usually rounding out the list. The only thing more consistent than qualities they assigned to my countrymen was the thinness of their justifications. Someone knew an older American woman who would not take a seat offered on a bus; hence, Americans did not like to rely on others. Or a textbook from middle school informed them that American children are forced to leave their home at age eighteen, or pay rent. This makes it obvious that Americans prefer to live independently.
The fact that they had such little reason to defend their stereotypes made me reluctant to agree with even the bits of truth such generalizations contained.. And, lest anyone think they took a positive view of the American personality, I should point out that the students saw themselves as operating at the opposite end of the spectrum, viewing the Chinese cooperative and group oriented outlook as vastly more humane than the American go it alone attitude.

Hence, the fact that the question seemed merely to want me to confirm a stereotype made me push back perhaps harder than I should have. I pointed out the many examples of social cooperation in the film, arguing, for example, that the fighter himself must rely on public assistance, so is hardly a walking advertisement for self-reliance. Moreover, in the film we see men and women living together in shanty towns and bonding together to fight against economic injustice. Cooperation and social reliance are as much a part of the film as independence and self reliance.

If the theme is not these American virtues, asked the next questioner, is it simply a story about the American dream of fame and fortune? But if the point was to glorify fame and fortune, I replied, why focus on the plight of all the good men and women who suffered in the Depression through no fault of their own? No, I argued. By showing us graphic scenes of historical poverty, I think the film was trying to makes us aware of the plight of those less fortunate than us, not just back then but in present day America.

And what about present day America? Isn’t it true there is a growing gap between the rich and poor in America? They had me on this one. I would do many things to defend my country over here, but lying was not among them. Instead of launching into an apologia that would probably have completely destroyed my credibility, I pointed out how one of the candidates for the American presidency at that time, John Edwards, was making poverty in America the theme of his campaign.

This sort of give and take, with the audience wanting their preconceptions confirmed and my trying to find someway to fight back without sounding too much like a cheerleader, characterized many of the discussion.

Essay, pt.2

Peter Vernezze — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 01:03:00 GMT

The stated goal of the series “American Culture at the Movies” was to use film in order to shed light on and increase the understanding of American culture and values. Except for being shown on Friday evenings, there was no regular schedule for the movies—that would have gone against the grain of everything I had witnessed on my campus, where lectures and meetings were arranged at the last possible moment while students were forcibly corralled into attendance. Consistent with this policy, I received a text message on Wednesday afternoon informing me that the inaugural showing in the series would be this Friday evening. I had previously submitted a list of possible titles along with plot summaries and my rationale for wanting to include them in the series. This was the formal approval process at the beginning, although after a while that requirement was either dropped or simply not enforced. For that first evening, the movie chosen was Cinderella Man.

There were plenty of good cultural reasons to watch a movie about the inspiring comeback of a washed up boxer during the Depression. The Great Depression is obviously an important chapter in the story of my country. And while boxing may not have been invented in the United States, there is something peculiarly American about the sport: the violence of the sport not unrelated to the nature of the culture. But in truth, historical curiosity was not the rationale for choosing the film. If you want to understand what was behind the selection of this movie, think more of a car wreck or a house fire.

I have been told there is no Chinese equivalent to the word “schadenfreude,” and besides, we generally don’t apply the term to include the collective enjoyment of another culture’s suffering. But since there is more than a little resentment here at the status of America in the world community (as would become apparent in the discussion following some of the showings), I can guarantee that the opportunity to watch a movie depicting the world’s superpower at a low point of its financial clout played no small part in the selection. The selection was also influenced by the fact that viewing the film would allow students a chance to play everyone’s favorite parlor game in China: morally bad mouthing America. To be sure, racism, violence and obesity were probably the top three gross defects of which my homeland is viewed as being guilty of in the eyes of Chinese in general and my students in particular. But the situation of poverty in America, that in a land of wealth and abundance there could be so many poor people, was also an egregious shortcoming worth mulling over for an evening. Obviously, the historical situation of the Depression would (and did) provide a platform for commentary on the contemporary situation. In short, the choice seemed like a winner

Essay

Peter Vernezze — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 01:44:00 GMT

Since I am spending a lot of time writing these days, I thought I would serialize one of the essays I am working on. Here is Part 1

THE MARX BROTHERS IN CHINA: GROUCHO, HARPO AND CHICO PLAY CHENGDU

This is the last film I’ll be showing in China, and for obvious reasons, I’m a little sad. During my time as a Peace Corps volunteer at Sichuan Normal University in Chengdu, in addition to my usual teaching load, I have also organized and moderated a campus wide film series. For two years I have shown contemporary releases such as There Will Be Blood, Crash, and Elephant as well as classic films like Casablanca, Citizen Kane and Harvey to an audience comprised mostly of students in the foreign language department, although anyone in the campus community is invited. Sponsored by the oddly named English Fans Association, the showings take place in a large auditorium style classroom which seats around 250 people. I usually give a short presentation before the film, and there is a discussion afterwards.

Although the main duty of Peace Corps volunteers in China is to teach oral English at our assigned universities in Sichuan, Gansu, Guizhou and Chongqing, we are also encouraged to develop secondary projects consistent with the organization’s goals, one of which is to “promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.” American film in China is certainly an area that cries out for a better understanding.
It is not the lack of opportunity to see American films that is cause of the situation. True, few major releases make it over here, and movie ticket prices are incredibly expensive relative to the average income. But cheap or free American movies are widely available. In addition to the innumerable shops selling pirate DVDs at about seventy five cents a pop, my university has almost any American film you would want on its website, complete with Chinese subtitles. Students see a lot of American films. The problem is that what they wind up watching not only does not contribute much to their understanding of American culture, but often gives them a distorted view of my home country.

At the start of every semester, I would ask my students to name their favorite American film. With only slight variation from class to class and semester to semester, the top vote getters were: Titanic, Braveheart and Forrest Gump. The rest of the list was populated with the usual blockbusters and an eclectic collection of older films led, for some reason I was unable to decipher, by Roman Holiday. I am not sure what view of a people or a culture results from such an eclectic list, but I don’t think it can be called well-rounded, comprehensive or even particularly accurate. If film played no role in shaping their world view, I might not be so concerned. But my students were convinced, for example, that American Pie accurately represented the sexual mores of the majority of my fellow citizens. The news was not all bad, however, as evidenced by the fact that Brokeback Mountain was sited time and again by those voicing support for homosexual rights.

It seemed, then, film presented a great and largely untapped opportunity to teach about my culture in a meaningful and substantive manner rather than in a frivolous and misleading one. Although my original goal was to show films from the American Film Institute’s list of one hundred greatest American films, the student organization sponsoring the event was concerned to discover this would mean that the films would be older than the audience. I could see their point. So in classic Chinese fashion we compromised. We would begin the series with contemporary movies, and once I had established a following, I could introduce some of my beloved classics.

What I am doing

Peter Vernezze — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 23:55:00 GMT

What have I been up to lately? Saying a lot of good byes to people, having farewell meals, getting and giving gifts. Time is just about up here folks. There is still a month to go but school is over and campus is emptying out. The weather has turned full blast summer, which means air conditioned nights unless I want to be uncomfortable. I am mainly writing up my notes, working on trying to put together a proposal on a China book before I go, also working on the This I Believe material, and still as ever studying Chinsse, which appears will be my new hobby. School is over here and now we are just waiting to be given permission to go. It reminds me of nothing so much as the last day of vacation, where you have to check out of the hotel and hang around with nothing to do because you have a late flight. It doesn't really seem like a day of the vacation, and hanging around the pool isn't any fun really because you know you have to be on a bus to the airport in a few hours. It's time to go. You wish you had booked that early flight.

My counterpart

Peter Vernezze — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 23:21:00 GMT

Last night a long talk with my counterpart teacher, Wang Jiali. This was the Chinese teacher here who is my contact point with the university and responsible for seeing that things go smoothly. Many volunteers never see their counterparts or don't have the best relationships with them, but Jiali has been great. I thought we were just going to get together to exchange gifts, but she had some things she wanted to chat about, mainly about her life and what she is going to do. She is 27, recently married. Her husband lives in Shenzhen, which is pretty far away, near HOng Kong. He works in business, and she is considering quitting her job her and moving there and trying to start a new career. After two years of working at Sichuan Normal she is tired of teaching and not happy with an academic existence. She was going to go to get her Ph.D. (she has a masters), but the university didn't approve, so that if she wants to go, she will have to resign her job. She is going to spend the summer with her husband and try to look for some other job, though she admits she is not really trained to do anything. But like many young people in China, she sense the economic opportunity, knows many people including old classmates who are getting rich and wants to get in on it. But she is naturally afraid to leave the security of an academic job. She is smart and capable and speaks great English, so I imagine she can succeed but one never knows what the future will hold.

Introduction

Peter Vernezze — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 05:58:00 GMT

I am thinking of bringing together a collection of these esays to form a sort of portrait of the ideas and worldview of my students to anyone who might be interested. Here is the introduction to the section on the five essays below

Chapter 1: The family

It is only right and fitting to start a book purporting to provide a relatively accurate and meaningful representation of the worldview of Chinese undergraduates with a chapter devoted to the family. Indeed, it is hard to overstate the importance of the family in Chinese life.

The relationship with the parent is at the core of the typical Chinese undergraduate’s life in a way that would surprise most of their American counterparts. Most students do not work or take out loans. Instead, their parents pay for their education, often taking upon themselves great struggle and hardship in order to accomplish this task. It’s often been pointed out there is a implicit bargain here, since children are expected to care for their elderly parents. But in my experience this is a task that is accepted not as a burden but as a privilege. Although there are signs that things may be changing, when I have asked my classes how many of them intend to care for their elderly parents, almost every student has stuck up his or her hand. Some of this may be on account of peer pressure. But the fact that they even feel pressure in such a situation itself says much about the parent-child relationship.

As with much in China, this begins with Confucius. There is no Chinese equivalent to the Bible, but the Analects of Confucius come pretty close. For thousands of years, the values espoused in this work provided the overarching moral structure in Chinese society. Certainly, this all changed with the coming to power of the Communists. But as China searches for a coherent value scheme in the twenty first century, Confucius has become popular again.
Although the Confucian view of society is structured around five relationships—ruler to subject, husband to wife, parent to child, elder brother to younger brother, friend to friend—three of these five deal with family. This should provide you with some idea of the relative importance of family in the Confucian world view. Certainly, much has changed over time. At least in name there is no power differential between the ruler and subject in Communist China, and equality between husband and wife has been incorporated into the Chinese Constitution. But the centrality of family—the heart of which is the obligation between the parent and the child—seems alive and well. It is enshrined in the second passage of Confucius’s classic work, The Analects: As for filial responsibility (xiao), it is, I suspect, the root of authoritative conduct.” That is, if you are not a good son or daughter, how can you be a good person?

The value is alive and well today. One need only turn on the television to see that this is the case. A commercial that still runs frequently opens with a mother giving her young son a foot bath—a very popular activity for all ages over here, I might add, and one I would recommend. The next scene shows the mother giving her own elderly mother, who is obviously living with her, a foot bath. We switch back to the son, who is looking for his mother and finds her in the midst of the above mentioned activity. In the final scene, we witness the son walking from the bathroom with a basin of water, taking his first steps on his life long road of Confucian-induced responsibility to the parent by giving his mother a footbath.

As the essays the follow demonstrate, the bond goes across the generations, and is one forged often under difficult circumstances. These stories remind us as well that what binds us together is much greater than what separates us.

A couuple of more

Peter Vernezze — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 14:27:00 GMT

I Believe in Memory

Memory decorates our minds as well as our lives. Memory means the most, though, for those who are approaching the end of their days.
When I was a child, I used to circle around my grandfather who was sitting still in his old armchair. Closing his eyes and enjoying the late afternoon sunshine, he seemed to dive into his own thoughts with a contented smile on his face. In fact, he could sit in that armchair the whole day. I felt concerned and thought there might be some difficulty he was dealing with. “Grandpa,” I would say. “You should tell me your problems and I can help you with them.” At that moment, Grandpa opened his eyes and patted me lightly on the head and smiled. “Little Xia, grandpa is not bothered by any worries. I am reviewing my memory.”
What he said intrigued me. Was memory a delicious cake to be sampled in this way? For a 7 year old girl, memory meant nothing. At age 10, I left my grandparents to live with my father. At that time, my parents were having difficulties, and my father decided to raise me all by himself. When I was fourteen, my grandpa departed from me forever, leaving only the memory of his sitting in his armchair reviewing his memory.
With the passage of time, I gradually realized the truth of memory. As grandfather told me, memory was the eye to the past that recorded each period of life and become the only proof of our existence in the world. It is like a silver bell clinging to our heart. Only if we call on our memory time and again can it make its melodious ring. In some situations, I refuse to ring the bell, such as with the situation of my parents’ divorce when I was ten. However, this naughty lady with lovely long white hair and blue eyes will disappear at moments when I expect her to appear and appear again from nowhere when I thought she had long vanished.
Grandpa was contented with his past, with the fruits he gained from the tree of life. So when the ripening memory was approaching its fruition, its taste was especially sweet. This is why I believe in memories, and in building a life that will be rich with these.

A PAIR OF SHOES
I believe in a pair of shoes.
When I was a young girl, I was brought up by my grandmother. She was a traditional woman, doing all of the housework day after day. But what I remember is not her cleaning or cooking, but the fact that she could make the best shoes in the world. You don’t have to take my word for this. Even today, others confirm she had the subtlest and deftest needlework in our village. I still remember every year I received the new shoes as a gift and wore them, happy as a free flying bird, dancing and singing in the yard. I grew so quickly that every year I received to pairs of shoes. During that time, I did not realize the love that my grandmother sewed into those shoes along with the threads. She did not measure my feet, but somehow the shoes were always a perfect fit.
When I was 8 years old, I found her repeating the same tedious stories time and again, forgetting minutes later what she had just said. I knew she suffered from senile dementia, which is a family disease. I was so sad as my family lived a hard life without any mother to cure my grandmother. She was clear about her disease and she knew there was little time left for her to do something for the family—her son and her granddaughter. She began to sit all day long, needling and treading to make thick bags for my father to take his heavy tools to work and to make shoes for me. I knew nothing about these activities and so criticized her for spending so little time with me. I became impatient with her repeating the same stories.
Soon after this, we lost grandmother to dementia. The last thing I received from her was a pair of shoes. When she was still conscious, she told me that I should take care of myself and I should wear shoes bought from the shop although they were not as good for my growing feed as the shoes she made. I did not understand the real meaning of her words until I grew up. I kept that last pair of shoes hanging on the wall.
I treasured that pair of shoes like a sacred gift from heaven. My mother tried one day to make another pair. But he knew no one would ever again be able to make a pair of shoes as comfortable as the ones from grandmother. The reason was that besides the remarkable craftsmanship, it was the deepest love that most those shoes the most comfortable ones in the world. This I believe

Even More This I Believe

Peter Vernezze — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 17:16:00 GMT

MY MOTHER’S HAPPINESS

I believe everyone has his own happiness. Not only the rich, but the poor also. Not only the shopkeeper, but the beggar as well. Even a dog has its own happiness. From this, I know that it often makes little sense to show sympathy towards someone. The person you pity may in fact be in a better situation than yourself.

While travelling last summer, I witnessed a wandering singer by the road, strumming his guitar, with a few coins scattered about the case that sat in front of him. My first thought was, what a pitiable person, who must scratch out a meager living in such a humiliating fashion. But watching him play, laughing with the audience, and walking away contentedly when the performance was finished, I realized that the joy he gets and receives compensates for any financial shortcomings. Who do I know that performs their life’s work with such enthusiasm? The moral of the story is that we must be careful of passing judgment on the happiness of others.

Most of my neighbors said that my mother had bad fortune because she had to raise my brother and myself on little money and with a bad tempered husband who seemed unable to keep a job. I remember it as being a hard life. When I was eight years old, the money my father earned could not maintain our life. So he decided to go to Guangzhou, saying he would return in three years. This meant that my mother would have to look after two young children and cultivate the land alone during this time. Many people said that would be impossible for my mother.

In fact, she did quite well during this time, though things were never easy, and she always seemed on the verge of exhaustion. But she said that that letters my father sent and the certificates of merit I received at school made her happy. She always said she was satisfied with her life because she had a pair of children and a husband to live for. The most important thing was that we were healthy.

I believe imy mother was happy even if few other people realized it. I believe deeply in this happiness, because it reminds me not to pass judgement on others and, more importantly, to focus on what is truly meaningful in life.

Qiao Chunyan