Tickled pink

It’s springtime in the city of eternal spring. Besides the weather warming up a few centigrade, the most noticeable sign of spring is the overwhelming presence of flowering trees. When the wind blows, tiny pink petals float through the sky and fall in random patterns, collecting in puddles and sticky parts of the pavement. While sometimes I curse this ridiculous living arrangement on campus, as being in a student dormitory that locks its doors at 11:30 pm and having students knock on your door at random hours can be annoying, I am thankful for the care this university has put into its landscaping. Every day as I’m walking to class or the Muslim noodle restaurant where I eat at least once daily, I pass these precious pink buds and can’t help but feel sublime. Fuchsia-colored azaleas have also appeared in high volume, along with sweet smelling white buds that waft a far superior alternative to the random pockets of sewage stench that plagues China.

My full schedule of university and kindergarten classes this semester keeps me busy, but is a nice combination as singing and dancing with the children can get exhausting, as can urging my college kids to have an opinion on something and actually express it. By mixing the two up, I can more fully appreciate the priceless moments when the little ones try to pronounce “roof” and “drawing”, or when I announce “time to say goodbye” and they come squealing and barreling towards my knees from all directions for a giant group hug. Similarly, it allows me to enjoy the genuine moments at university when the students laugh at my lame jokes or get brave enough to ask a question. I especially enjoy any one-on-one time I can take during activities with the college kids. Young men who play it cool in class often surprise me with their deep reflections and I’m always impressed with the drive that the star female students possess for learning English and their wonder of western culture.

Something that bugs me about teaching at a university in China is the stance I must take on current events and Chinese politics - which is complete ignorance or avoidance of the subject. Raising any type of dialogue or debate on what’s happening in Tibet, Darfur or any other topic that the government considers too controversial isn’t worth getting into. One reason is that I could probably get my visa revoked if the administration, parents and eventually the local party officials found out I was stirring the pot. The other reason is that either the students wouldn’t care enough to engage in the debate, or they have been so pumped full of propaganda over the years that their tunnel vision wouldn’t allow such infiltration of revolutionary ideas. It’s disappointing as college life is typically the time and platform for youth to embark on discovering or solidifying their political passion. This is the future of China and I don’t see the blinders coming off anytime soon. So instead of playing rebel rouser, I am teaching the values of critical thinking and coming at an issue from all possible angles. This is my mini revolution and as my writing class of Business English majors is currently choosing their topics for a research paper, it’s been an especially good excuse to enlighten them on such concepts.

Maybe you’re wondering if I have a unique perspective or privileged information on the subject that’s been in the news lately. I don’t. The only information I get is what the general Chinese public gets – the Chinese side of the story, which is unfortunately spawning a newfound national disdain for that ethnic minority. I get my news mostly from the New York Times and the BBC, which haven’t yet been blocked. The New York Times reported that at the time of the uprisings, China had blocked YouTube and other sites. They must not have realized that YouTube had been blocked far before then (as long as I have been here), along with other sites such as Wikipedia, Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, all of which I’ve never been able to access.

But if you’re concerned about safety, I’m completely out of harms way here in Kunming. The Tibetan community isn’t large enough here to worry, though there are large communities in the northern reaches of Yunnan.

Today is Tomb Sweeping Day, a national holiday in China. We get the day off from classes, so we’re taking an extended weekend trip to Dali, a city just 3.5 hours north by bus. Dali’s old town is a historic hamlet surrounded by mountains and a large lake. The area is known for its tranquility, natural beauty and large community of Bai people (one of Yunnan’s many ethnic minorities) with their famed handicraft markets that I can’t wait to explore.