6,000 years of Culture

One of the lessons that I prepared for my class was about geography. After talking about the different countries in the World I had the kids ask each other a few question, and then rehearse their conversations in front of the class. Elias, and his partner walk to the front. His partner asks him, “Where do you want to live when you grow up?” each single word has the stress of its own sentence, and her effort is clearly visible. Elias looks up, and puts his hand on his chin, then says, “China!” That is the end of the scripted conversation, but I intercede, “Elias, why do you want to live in China?” He waves his hand and says, with a smile on his face, “Because. China. Is. Good!” the words are short, but sure. I giggle at his light hearted, but genuine words. I am also giggling because I think I am seeing the result of a mindset that only exists in China. I think back to the Human Rights class I took last semester, “Most people in China think Mao is the man” our professor had said, and “People in China don’t know what happened in Tiananmen Square.”
At dinner one night we started to talk about different things that have been translated for different cultures. One girl says, “Well why did the US give China a new name?” someone else says, “A new name?” “Yeah, Chinese people don’t call China China, they call it The Middle Kingdom.” Another voice chimes in, “Well that’s probably why…” we all toss our heads back in laughter, and the conversation naturally moves away from the subject. I had never heard anyone refer to China as the Middle Kingdom.
We all sit around a table for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. The waiter pours tea in everyone’s cups. I have heard about wine being served like water in France, and now I know that China serves tea like nobodies business. Green tea exists as a flavor in just about everything, hot drinks, cold drinks, candy, pastries, even toothpaste. When they poured tea in Jessie’s cup she tapped two of her fingers on the table, “that is how you say thank you for your tea in China.” She explained that a long time ago one of the Chinese kings use to travel out among the people to see how things were really holding up. He traveled as if he were a commoner, with only a few of his servants. He would pour tea for the people he was dining with. His servants felt unworthy to have him pour their tea, but could not reveal his identity so they would tap their fingers on the table to express their gratitude, almost as if they were bowing. I had never thought about the dynasties of China, or the kings themselves, and I thought the story was really neat.
The school put together a Chinese cultural night earlier this week. The Chinese teachers performed songs about courtship, more traditional songs with dancing, and the kids did dances and skits. It was amazing to see all of the different things that they considered essentially Chinese culture. Jessie was MCing that night and said at one point, “We have 6,000 years of history, and many era’s of culture” I was impressed by that statement, and gained a new respect for China. In classes I have taken, and literature I have read, China is framed as an unfortunate country suffering from corrupt leaders, imperious laws, and detrimental foreign policies. Although some of those claims have validity in the recent past, and present China has a rich history that includes prospering dynasties, unique cultural traditions, and national pride.
We line up by age group, with the teachers being paired with the kindergarteners. The kindergarteners are the smallest kids here, and they have only Chinese teachers. Their little heads bobbed around our knees, and their curious eyes watch and mimic our cheerful smiles. We sit in a large circle around the unlit fire. I notice a zip line from the top of the building leading to the fire. The anticipation of the students is growing, as the hosts voice grows more excited. I don’t understand a word of what she is saying, but I’ve gotten pretty good at reading facial expressions and hand gestures. Two stories up, on the dorm building, two men fiddle around with matches. Then a triangle of fire speeds down the zip line, and the fire pit erupts into flames and the crowd explodes with cheers. I rub a little more OFF bug spray onto my elbow. The girl next to me leans over, and whispers, “These” motioning to the many children sitting in front and around us, “Are our best bug repellents, the mosquitoes like them more than us” I smile, and hope she’s right, because my legs haven’t stopped itching for the past week. As the fire grows, the older boys begin a dance around the fire. They are all shirtless, and their enthused dance produces rhythmic clapping from the audience. As we watched and joined in, I felt the energy of all the kids and the pride in their cultural traditions; suddenly I knew why the mosquitoes liked them so much—their blood is rich and alive.