Prompt: How has your experience thus
far met or not met your expectations? What, if anything, do you intend to
change about your personal interactions or work for the remainder of your time?
Prior to
arriving at CURA, I honestly did not know what to expect. In fact, I recall
reading the following in an email I received from Mark, the project leader, two
days before my flight to China:
"Hannah, clear your mind of expectations. All will
be as it is."
Nevertheless,
this message was not so shocking to me, as I was mentally prepared to be
flexible and adapt to whatever was awaiting me. My only concern at the time was
that I would not be able to contribute much either due to insufficient language
abilities, technical skills, or a mix of both. But, I was lucky enough to have
a phenomenal experience that exceeded all expectations. I found myself fitting
in easily, contributing to both the playful office banter and to the project at
hand--developing (and later implementing) a health survey to be implemented in
a village upstream of Chengdu. Each day entailed new experiences, such as
walking alongside the city's rivers to the Living Water Park, which purifies
200 cubic meters of river water each day through a fish-shaped wetland system.
Another time, it was meeting with Professor Wang Jintao of HuaXi School of
Public Health to discuss my first rough draft of the health survey. CURA was a
family, its members united by a love of protecting rivers and exchanging
good-natured jests. Every day over lunch, business was set aside as stories and
advice became the currency of communication. During these meals, I continued to
learn, about the Sichuan dishes made by our chef Mrs. Dong, about Chinese
culture and perspectives. It was also good practice for me to as I trained my
ear to understand the Sichuan dialect. Sometimes, we would also have a visitor
or two--a former CURA member, people hailing from other NGOs, once even someone
from the Australian Embassy, who admitted a good part of his job was
surprisingly dedicated to visiting incarcerated fellow countrymen.
Outside of my
time in the office, my expectations have certainly been surpassed as well. I
was told Chengdu would be unbearably hot in terms of weather and cuisine.
Nevertheless, the summer has been relatively mild (or perhaps I am accustomed
to worse as a native Houstonian), and with Chengdu now more 'globalized,' the
same could be said of the cuisine. Unlike the days when my father first visited
Chengdu years back and was unable to discern what he ate, registering only the
fiery numbness, Chengdu was now a famed city of gastronomy with much more to
offer than hot pot and stir fry chock-full of peppercorn. Thanks to the Chinese
equivalent of Yelp, 大众点评, and my host family, I got to try roast fish, Italian-Asian
fusion, Xinjiang, Korean, French, Japanese cuisines to name a few. One local
specialty I loved was 'stir-fried yogurt.' After having read about it in the
morning subway newspapers, I was determined to try it. It's made by mixing
yogurt with fruit and flavorings, if any, and fanning it out in a metal pan to
be frozen (something below cools the surface of the pan). The yogurt is then
broken up and served in chunks, as shown below.
 |
| The
'stir-fry' process |
 |
| The
finished product! |
So
while it's technically frozen yogurt, this treat was termed 'stir-fried' yogurt
because of how it's prepared, given the use of a pan and spatula. Crunchy,
cold, and available in some of my favorite flavors (matcha, mango, coffee), it
was refreshing in the summer heat.
Of
course, Chengdu has a lot more to offer than just food--the city is also known
as a cultural center. I had the chance to go see the Sanxindui ('three star
mound') Cultural Site, exhibiting what's left of an advanced ancient
civilization unconnected to the rest of Chinese history. The prominent features
protruding eyes of the bronze masks were unlike anything I had ever seen
before, and bore more resemblance to the Mayan artifacts I had seen in Mexico
than to those of the Chinese Han civilization. That same day, we also got to
visit the 4th largest Confucius temple in China. Walking around the perimeter
of the shrine, we read the wishes left by earlier visitors. Especially because
Confucius considered the patron sage of knowledge and education, the
handwritten requests were overwhelmingly for good gaokao scores, enough to get
into China's top-tier universities. Two also aspired to attend Harvard, and at
the other end of the spectrum, a few humbly asked only to pass a test or course
with a 70. I think what struck me the most was how strong an emphasis was
placed on gaokao, understandable given that students only have one shot to
prove their worth. And that's the problem--students have wholly attached their
self-worth to the outcomes of this test. Every year, there are students who
commit suicide for causes related to gaokao. While on the plane back to Chengdu
from Hunan, I spoke with a the passenger next to me, a parent who said just
this year a girl from the area had committed suicide as a result of poor gaokao
performance. It's a problem that people has come into focus, and some families
have found a way out, by sending their children abroad. My host family serves
as an example of this increasingly prevalent phenomenon. To these families,
education abroad is superior to what's offered in China. Some high schools even
form classes of students intending to go abroad, preparing them for AP and SAT
tests rather than for gaokao. Of course, these doors have been opening thanks
to the rapid economic development in China and the subsequent increase in
disposable income.
Coming
back to the subject of experiencing culture, a visit to the Chengdu panda base
was not to be missed. And, thanks to a few connections, we even got to hug a
one-year-old panda cub. But, just as memorable to me was the conversation I had
with the retired veterinarian who had worked at the panda base. He told us
about his role in nurturing the panda population from the original 10 to the
current 160. At one point, a panda epidemic had dropped the number down to a
meager 4, but thanks to him leading a team of researchers, the cause and cure were
identified, saving the remaining pandas. His crowning achievement was the risk
he took to act on his theory of ensuring the survival of both panda cubs when
twins were born to the mother, a frequent natural occurrence. The method he
devised proved successful and is now used at panda breeding centers around the
world. Despite all his accomplishments, he was very humble, always more than
happy to answer our simple questions about the pandas as we strolled through
the expansive base.
These experiences are just a few of
the countless that have made my time so far in Chengdu so exceptional.
Ultimately, it comes down to the people I've met and the relationships I've
developed. I'm looking forward to the rest of my time here as we continue
preparing the survey and as I continue to learn about the city and its people.
What would I change? Nothing, other than continuing to be open to new
experiences and serving as a bridge between cultures.