"You must be from New Zealand."

I've know for a while that my accent was "in the middle" somewhere. A lot of native Southerners say that they don't hear an accent (meaning it's standard American), but when I travel in the US outside the South, people say OH YEAH you do have a Southern accent. This is probably familiar to a lot of people who have moved to a different area than they grew up in or whose accent has changed.

I admit to trying to "soften" my accent when I was in college because it just sounded too redneck to me. However, I have never wanted to get rid of it, just to have a more attractive version of it...more genteel. I don't want to have a boring, standard American accent, and I am proud of my Southern heritage.

But the comments I have received here in Beijing are bizarre to me. Many of my students have said that I don't sound American. If I ask them what I sound like, they usually say British, or say I sound like another teacher here--who is from England. This puzzles me, so I've asked them what in particular makes them say that. They usually can't say. A couple of times, students have said something like, "You just don't act like an American."

Well. What does that mean? I think of the old "All in the Family" show, where Archie made the outre comment that all British men act "queer". Is that what they really meant? I tend to discount the students' comments since I don't think they are particularly good at detecting English-language accents anyway.

However, a couple of teachers who are from Australia told me they thought at first I was from Australia or New Zealand. And today, in training, a guy from England upon meeting me said confidently, "You're either from Australia or New Zealand--can't quite place it." When I told him America - North Carolina, he said, "Well, I guess we expect the way we hear Americans sound in movies."

The one thing that I know that stands out about the way I speak is my Pennsylvania long "o". It's kind of "e-yo-oo" sound. I learned about this when I took a diction class in college. (This was the same time I learned there was a difference in pronunciation between "pin" and "pen", and "want" and "won't'.) My professor went to my church and was aware that in elementary school I was taught by nuns from Pennsylvania, so he concluded that's where I must have gotten it. When I hear that sound, it does sound British to me, and I mentioned that to the English guy today, and he said "Maybe that's it."

Any light friends or family could shed on this mystery would be much appreciated.

BTW it will be interesting to hear, when I return to the States, whether people think I speak any differently. When I first started teaching, I was told repeatedly that I speak too fast for students to understand, so I've really worked on slowing down my speech, also on enunciating my words more clearly. I rarely get a complaint anymore, so I guess I'm succeeding.

National amnesia; students open up

In 2 of the 3 types of classes we have, I am very fortunate to be able to hear students talk about some intimate things on a variety of subjects. It's a real window onto the culture that I think not many people get.

For instance, in a recent Face2Face (just the teacher and 4 students), we read an excerpt from a woman who talks about the idyllic 50s in England, and compares it unfavorably to today. She says they had bigger houses, lived in the country, played outside, had gardens, ate healthier food and ate together as a family--all in contrast to today.

I ask them if they think things are better today in China than they were in the 50's and 60's. I'm very interested to hear what they have to say because to me there is no doubt at all that it's much better today. But I'd heard and seen what I saw as evidence that there was a national amnesia about those days. They are not taught in school that millions of people died from starvation and violence due to the ruinous policies of Chairman Mao, and it certainly isn't covered in the media. I've had conversations with local teachers, who are well-educated, who seemed to be completely ignorant of this time and, what's more, didn't care.

I had this same class several times in the last week, so it was interesting to see the dynamic in each class. The first couple of classes, everyone said things were better back then, but they were quoting from the story, saying that food was healthier, etc. This speaks to the way they are trained in school to tell you what you want to hear rather than give their real opinion.

But don't these people hear stories from their parents and grandparents? Or do people from those generations simply not want to talk about it?

Finally, yesterday in my final F2F on this subject, a teenage girl spoke with passion about how it's much better now because people in her family died because they didn't have enough to eat and that they're still trying to recover from that time. A couple of others chimed in, acting as if they were letting me in on a secret.

So is this something everyone knows, but is reluctant to speak about to foreigners? Or do they not want to be seen as criticizing Chairman Mao? Or is it something else?

No heat, no air

I was told before I ever came to China that they didn't turn the heat on in apartments until November 15th, no matter what the weather was like. So I prepared myself for the possibility of a few nights without heat if it gets cold before then.

But I wasn't prepared for the flip side of that. A little over a week ago, the air conditioning stopped working in my apartment. I was having trouble sleeping because the temperature was as high as 83 degrees F.

When I had Building Maintenance come look at it, they seemed to be saying nothing was wrong, and I guessed what the answer was. I called a student to translate and he confirmed the bad news: Between Oct 1 and Nov 15 there is no heat or air conditioning, no matter what the weather. I have one tiny openable window, which doesn't do much good when there's no wind. So I was stuck with 83 degree F temperatures for several nights. It's cooled off some recently, but it could get hot again between now and November 15th.

The pleasures of life in a Communist country!

Shocker

One of the types of classes that we teach is called Face2Face, where we meet in a small room with just 4 students, to give them more personal attention. This is where I really get to know the students and learn a lot about their thoughts because we encourage them to practice their English by giving their opinions on different subjects.

A couple of days ago, as sometimes happens, there was only one person in my F2F. His self-chosen name was Neo. He was extremely shy and nervous, so I thought he might be autistic. If it hadn't been just him and me, I wouldn't have been able to spent the time with him that I did. I discovered that if you gave him enough time, he could answer most questions and that he didn't hesitate to say he didn't understand.

At the end, he asked where I was from. I said North Carolina and asked if he'd heard of it. He said yes and I said most people know it from Michael Jordan or Bank of America. He said, "Do you know South Carolina?" I said, yes, I was born there. He said, "First Confederate state." I couldn't believe my ears. Most of my students seem to know next to nothing about non-Chinese history.

Then he said he liked Abraham Lincoln and started quoting verbatim and IN PERFECTLY ACCENTED AMERICAN ENGLISH (which had had not done when he was using his own words)-- The Gettysburg Address! I was amazed. He said he liked to read history and that he "likes American freedoms".

The Chinese people are fascinating. I hope to write more about them soon.

tianenmen,forbidden city & beihai park

After 3 months in Beijing, I finally made it to Tianenmen Square, the largest square in the world--even bigger than Moscow's Red Square. It was huge--and a huge letdown. It was a really big square surrounded by incredibly uninspired buildings. As with the Bird's Nest at Olympic Village, the only thing that made it interesting was its history.

Almost as soon as I arrived, a young woman approached me, asking if she could practice her English with me. I thought this would be a win-win since she could speak and read Chinese and I didn't have a tour guide, so sure why not? The same thing happened to me when I was at a museum in Lima, Peru and it was a fun experience.

Her English name was Linda and she was indeed able to tell me some things I didn't know.

She also took pictures of me in front of famous sites, and I took one of her (see accompanying photo).



We had been walking around in the heat for a couple of hours, so she asked if I wanted to stop to get some tea or beer or something. The "beer" suggestion pricked my curiosity right away. She left it up to me where to go. I chose the next decent-looking place we came to that offered tea and beer.



There were only 2 small rooms, so we went into one. It was air-conditioned, and we got to sit in pleasant surroundings. She asked if I wanted tea or beer. It was one o'clock and I thought about getting beer since it was my day off, but I told her I was afraid that after drinking it, and going back in the hot sun that I'd get sick. She made a face and said she'd never heard of that. I began to get more skeptical. So we ordered a pot of tea. After she took a couple of sips, she said she wanted a beer and asked if I was sure I didn't want one. I was sure. . Then the waitress brought out watermelon and crackers. The watermelon was delicious and I scarfed it down.

I asked for the bill. By this time, my suspicions were high. So while waiting for the bill, I was wondering, is this just a nice girl who wanted to practice her English or is she a scammer? Well, the bill comes, and instead of 80 yuan, it's for 760 (over $100)! Right away, I knew. I examined the bill and said the tea was 50 and the beer was 30, so how did she come up with 760? Remember, Linda is translating for me. She said the waitress said she thought I wanted a tea ceremony, not just the tea. Then the waitress handed me a menu, but the prices were entirely different. I got mad. I just gave her 100 kwai and left in a hurry. I left without looking back, but kept wondering if she'd send somebody after us. She didn't.



Forbidden City was VERY impressive, much more than Lama Temple.






I saw a sign for Beihai Park, which was the park that the royal family had landscaped over 300 years ago. So I went in. There were about 20 sites listed within this huge park, many with interesting and curious names. See accompanying photo. Enjoyed taking photos (see attached) and then stumbled upon the beautiful 5 pavilions that the emperor used. (see photo) And a man was playing Chinese flute there, as in Ritan Park! But no singing.




The park is absolutely gorgous--much better than Ritan Park.



I decide to go home. So I try to hail a taxi, but they're ignoring me. It's rush hour, so it might be kind of hard. There are a couple of guys with motorcyle rickshaws.



I figure this will be an adventure. I've always wanted to try one of these things and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I know a lot of people would be scared, but I'd been taking taxi's all over Beijing for 3 months as well as walking on the streets and had become somewhat anured to the chaotic and dangerous Beijing traffic. The weather has cooled, there's no top and he's going a leisurely 30 mph. It's wonderful. I'm seeing parts of the city I've never seen, and at a leisurely pace. Yes, it gets a little dicey when he comes close to a couple of busses, but that's part of the adventure.



Well, it's taking longer and longer, and it's starting to get dark. The darkness combined with all the close calls start to give me pause. He gets onto some busy roads that are almost like freeways. Then he asks me for the card again. Aha! he didn't know where my place was after all! He stops a couple of times and asks me which way to go. If I were near my place, I could tell him, but I haven't seen anything that I recognize. He finally points to the a hotel across the highway and wants to know if that's it. I tell him yes, b/c I realize I probably won't make it home with him. At least at the hotel, I can catch a taxi home. Well, he takes several exits trying to get there. Going down one exit, he stops where other cars are starting to merge. We are right in the middle of all the merging freeway traffic whizzing by on both sides. I wonder what he's doing and he just sits there and looks around. I AM getting scared now. But not as much as when he TURNS AROUND and starts heading back UP the exit ramp we just came down GOING THE WRONG WAY. This is the only time I was really scared.

From the hotel, I took a taxi home.

Some people would think this was a terrible day. But to me, it's all part of the adventure. I have met people and experienced things I wouldn't trade for anything.

Ritan Park

I went to Ritan Park near the Central Business District last weekend. It was a delightful, peaceful setting (see more photos on Facebook). Across the pond from me, in a pagoda, a man had what I took to be his little grandson on his shoulders. As I began to take a photo, from this same direction I heard a lyrical, strong tenor voice, singing what appeared to me to be a Chinese melody. As I was wandering and wondering over this lovely park, I continued to hear the man sing at the top of his lungs--but "never louder than pretty". I thought, "How lucky for me that I came on the very day this man with a beautiful voice is here with his family."

At one point, I hear the flute instead of a voice. He's playing the flute now! I'm amazed at how far the sound carries. After luxuriating in these melodies for a while, I am jarred out of my reverie by a female voice. My suspicion that this fortuitious serenade was too good to be true seemed confirmed: I hear instrumentation behind the woman's voice and I can see there's not an orchestra in the pagoda. I think, well it was still nice if not magical.

Eventually, I work my way to said pagoda. And see the man. I do indeed hear piped-in music, but the man is singing also. After a while, the canned music stops, but he continues singing. It is HIS voice that carries across the park. And how lustily he sings! He can barely contain his joy.

I listened as I took photos of the beautiful pagoda. I suspected that the man really wanted me to take his picture since I thought he was glancing at me. But I let him wait a bit. He probably does this every day, I thought, hoping people tell him how wonderful he is. I will certainly oblige him. He IS wonderful--not just his voice but his joie de vivre. So I give him the thumbs up and said "good" in Chinese. He smiles and says something back to me in Chinese, which of course, I can't understand. I raise my camera, indicating I wanted to take his picture, and he smiled and posed (see attached photo). I thank him and he says something else to me in Chinese.

Then he says "please" in Chinese to me a couple of times, then starts dancing with his hand up, inviting me to join him. I shyly decline, but he persists,and begins dancing by himself and singing with even more exuberance. He seems to be the very essence of happiness.

He has made this a lasting memory for me.

Not quite a Tower of Babel

IAmong the many concerns I had about teaching in China was whether it would be a problem that I had a Southern (non-standard) accent. No problem! We have "international" teachers from London, Australia, the Phillipines, Canada, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and North Carolina all working on PC's in this cramped room. So you constantly hear English being spoken in several different accents. Of course, we also have several "local" teachers who are from all around China; they are part of the massive migration from the provinces into the cities. My favorite local teacher is from Mongolia, but he sounds just like he's from the US when he speaks English because he lived for 2 years in Georgia and has a good ear.

Our job, of course, is to teach English all day, and in the course of preparing for lessons the local teachers frequently have questions about the meaning of certain words or phrases. So someone will ask you something like "What's the difference between heaven and paradise?" or "Do you say I read it ON the newspaper or IN the newspaper; I heard it ON TV or IN the TV". But sometimes they'll ask a question that we disagree on, usually depending on which country we're from. So the local teacher asks what a "duplex" is and the Londoner tells her it's 2 separate buildings whose walls meet. I clarify that in America, it means one building separated in 2 by a wall. And sometimes the Australian will chip in with "We call that a gaboorabamba." Sometimes it's funny, as when the Londoner asks if anyone needs to use the "guillotine". I ask him what that means and he says "It's the thing you use to cut paper with; what do you call it in the States?" I say, "We call it a ....[dramatic pause] PAPER CUTTER."

On the flip side, none of the international teachers are fluent in Mandarin, so we often need their help with personall issues (talking to the phone company or building maintenance, for instance). But often it's about references in lessons. An international teacher will ask "Will the students know who Elvis is?" (Answer: "No, but they know the Beatles".)

The local teachers frequently speak Mandarin to each other and, since none of the international teachers are fluent, we usually ignore what they're saying. However, last week several of them were talking when I heard the unmistakable sound (to me) of "Keith Bernard". So I pipe up, "I HEARD that!" They all laugh and I ask how my name came up.

Juliet says she just talked to a student who had an unusual accent, and she asked where he was from. Turn out he's from Japan. She said she asked him what level he was. Because he was higher level, she said you have to go see Keith Bernard (international teachers handle the higher levels.)

She said if he'd been lower level, she'd have to refuse to have him in class. I had heard things before, so I said, "Y'all don't really like the Japanese, do you?" Monica, who is teaching me Chinese and is always very sweet, uncharacteristically said with bitterness, "We hate the Japanese." No one needed to say why. We all knew that when the Japanese occupied large parts of China before World War II, they treated the Chinese like dirt and committed many atrocities.

The local teachers went on complaining about the Japanese for a while, eventually saying they were worse than the Nazis. Monica said, "They're still trying to take over our companies...And getting parts for a Japanese car takes forever because they don't like the Chinese."

I'd heard about some bitterness toward the Japanese before, but it's really eye-opening when you hear it for yourself.



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