Midterms are finished and we are half way through with the epic adventure that is our time in the Celestial Empire. With no group activities scheduled over the weekend we had the opportunity to venture deep into the great unknown. Some students chose to go to Tsingtao and sample the local brew while others stayed in Jinan to experience what the city had to offer. Whether it was checking out the nightlife and sampling the local street food, or venturing outside the city, both were great experiences. To top off the week most of us visited with local families home to see how Chinese live a quiet evening at home.
Lang Kwai Fan is a local nightclub/bar where many of the international students gather to party. The club is a great place to meet interesting people from all over the globe and unwind after a hard week of rockin.' It's fully equipped with a DJ, dance floor, foosball table and incredible scenery.
Outside of Shandong's North Gate students can experience great local street food after 9pm. One can sample egg bread, deep fried chicken, local fruits, and wash it all down with an apple joint (apple soda). The best part of the outside street food is the price and all the local people walking by going about their business. Where else can a Foreign Devil stand on a corner enjoying every luxury he or she desires for under 2 bucks?
With the chance to go exploring the city on our own Jeff and I (Russell) went with several of my students to the Yellow River. We took the local bus to get there and it took roughly an hour. The air quality this past week has been extremely poor - making the visibility hazy with a grayish tint to the horizon. Once we arrived at the Yellow River we found that it was a favorite spot for both locals and foreigners. There are many booths and games set up for people’s enjoyment. There is entertainment ranging from shooting a gun, bow and arrow, table tennis, pottery, mechanical bull and even riding horses. After experiencing the carnival-like entertainment we turned our attention to the physical beauty the river had to offer. Nicknamed the Mother River, there is a giant clay female figure constructed on the bank of the river. My students, Jeff and myself spent all day at the river enjoying all that it had to offer and to end the wonderful day we went on a long walk on the riverbank.
This past week we visited Baotu Springs, accompanied by several of our students. We started the day off by going to the main strip on the city and walking down the sidewalk to check out the local sights and shops. We did a bit of shopping and then made our way over to the Spring Square to see the giant blue monument and then see the springs. As we walked across the bridge and down the stairs to the side of the canal, the sounds of the busy street drifted away and were replaced by the sounds of raindrops on the water. Local men cast their lines into the canal’s waters in hopes of reeling in a fish. Other’s enjoyed a game of Chinese Chess, knelt down next to palm readers or just enjoyed the tranquility of the moment. We came upon the first spring without even realizing it. When we had heard of the springs we assumed they would be a large oasis overflowing with fresh water. While some of them are quite large, most of them were small ponds with fresh water bubbling up to the surface from an underground cache. Some of the local people washed their clothes, gathered the fresh spring water into plastic containers or simply knelt down to take a sip and replenish their spirits. We at last made it to the Black Tiger Spring, called this because of the two gigantic stone tiger statues standing over the spring itself. Three tiger heads come out of the wall around the spring, gushing with fresh water. The number of people collecting water to bring back to their homes increased. People of all ages threw tea pots with ropes attached, or large plastic water jugs into the clear waters. The scene was like that out of a movie, the quiet waters of the canal with rain drops dotting its surface, people selling their trinkets and taking photographs. One cannot come to Jinan and not see the springs, which are a glorious display of the city’s heritage.
This past weekend a group of 25 of us traveled to Qingdao, a coastal city located on the southern tip of the Shandong peninsula. It was a special weekend to be in Qingdao because the city was celebrating their 18th annual International Beer Festival. The city has a heavy European influence due to the German colonization in the late 1800s. This influence is prominent in the Victorian style architecture throughout the city. The clean ocean air made some of us a bit homesick, but after putting our feet in the soft sand and warm water, feelings of peace and serenity surrounded us. Sleeping arrangements were hectic at first since this is the most popular International Festival in Eastern China; but after the first night (in which we made a few friends at the festival) we were put up in the most amazing youth hostel where we enjoyed cheap drinks and Western style food. Down the road from the hostel was a 4 foot tall woman who had to be at least 70 years old. She was very generous with her beer and we ended up giving her the name "beer fairy." Overall the weekend was a success and a memorable experience.
Perhaps the most enlightening experience of the past week was the home-stay visit. Most of the group, aside from those still in Tsingtao, had the opportunity to spend an afternoon with a local Chinese family. We were split into small groups, though some members of the group went solo, and were assigned randomly to a family. We had no idea what to expect, and that only made the visit all the more amazing. We were taught intricate details of Chinese culture within a family setting and were finally able to see how locals live their lives in the confines of their home. Almost every family served dumplings as they are the traditional food to serve when an honored guest is present. Not only did we fill up on dumplings, but we took part in the fine craft that is dumpling rolling. Actually making some of the food that we ended up eating made them all the tastier. The graciousness of each family was astounding and we all finished the night with a new sense of what it means to be Chinese as well as the values that they hold dear.
- Russell, Price, Steph, Briana, Dillon, Parkie, Elaine
Our New Family in Shidao
On one free weekend while the bulk of the class made their way to Qingdao for its wonderful historical significance, (and perhaps the beer-drinking festivities that took place in respect of the Chinese National Holiday Week) a smaller excursion, being we (Forrest and Brek), Brian, and our new and close friend, Leo, took off to the countryside, namely Shidao, a village within the area of Weihai. Our friend Leo is a senior at Shandong Univeristy; his family resides in Shidao.
We left late Thursday Night: The sleep cars had sold out the previous week so we had tickets for four seats. We boarded and the four of us claimed a section consisting of two school bus-fashioned booth seats facing eachother with a small table between us the size of a nightstand. For the next eight hours, we clutched our belongings and exchanged card games (the little differences were funny: the Chinese begin their games by individually selecting cards from the stacked deck, taking turns counter-clockwise). Soon enough, deep into the night and straining to remain seated we nodded off and lay across the table and over one another in deep slumbers.
We arrived in Weihai in the early morning and spent the following day sleep-deprived on the beach, followed by a bus to Shidao. As night fell, we caught a taxi and sent him and ourselves out into the country to the village and home of Leo’s family. We took a long dirt road full of deep potholes in the pitch-black night and the cab driver bottomed out several times, and understandably swearing in Chinese. When we arrived, he requested additional money for the damage and we agreed to pay him.
We stumbled over the unlit village road, surrounded by livestock and sea grass-roofed rural homes. Believing ourselves to be moments away from a long nap, we were greeted by Leo’s little cousin, who was very shy and intrigued by us. We entered a lighted opening on the roadside and came into a homely warmness: Leo’s Aunts, his uncle, his father, his little cousins and younger brother. Brian was overwhelmed, and so were we. And then Leo’s Grandfather, a man of great genuineness and accomplishment, with a smile that may have welcomed any foreigner, appeared and gathered stools and clasped our hands, issuing warm welcoming phrases, which were translated by Leo. We took photos, spoke graciously to the family and eventually sat down to a table that was put up in the entryway (the home was very small).
There was a feast prepared hours before and it came out in large plates: rice noodles, bean and celery dishes, stinky tofu (not as in “bad odor,” it is really called that), a chicken dish (Brek struggled with the head), octopus and mushrooms, or as the Chinese call it, ‘edible fungus.’ We immediately were served bijou (a strong liquor) and given a welcoming and seemingly “confucianesque” toast, followed by a ganbei (or “‘downing’ of the hatch”)of the bijou. A few more “ganbei”s required the substitution of Tsingtao, for every toast required a sip at least and a ‘ganbei’ means all.
Leo translated our toasts of gratefulness and warmth, and served to connect the two parties: the village family and the distant foreigners, a position that provided us with insight and understanding of his valuable family. After hours of conversation we exchanged fairwells and staggered to Leo’s Aunt’s home, a beautifully decorated and homey abode. We threw on a James Bond flick and were aslumber before the credits could begin.
Two mornings later, after a day of walking, talking, eating, and sight-seeing, and a second family meal at Leo’s Uncle’s seafood restaurant, we arose at 5:00 am. Leo’s Uncle came and loaded five of us into his truck bed. He drove us to the farthest eastern shore in the province. We “viddied” the sunrise over the ocean, an occasion you cannot witness in California. We cruised in the bed of the truck, awestruck and tired as we bumped through fields, along the shores, and amongst more seaweed-roofed structures. Actually, Brek was not tired. He romped around the truck bed, occasionally finding his balance enough to hold the surfer position. There aren’t many things worth waking up for at the un-godly hour of sunrise, but it was mutually felt by us four that our experience was more than worth it.
-Forrest and Brek
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