As is the norm on test days, I woke up early to study and prepare for the debate. I ate my breakfast staple – a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and yogurt – but I was still pretty hungry when the test was over. Today’s test was not that bad, all things considered, but it left me with the same dead feeling after every test. I can only liken our Friday tests to running a 5K every week, a 5K that leaves me mentally and physically dead.
I returned to the dorm and fought of sleep before the debate and played some guitar.
At the enumerated time, I attended a lecture on the merits of keeping the language pledge. The incident from earlier – the slip of the tongue and implications of the “older” students – was the reason for the meeting. But that is not the best part. Director Zhang did not only make the two guys attend the lecture, but also made them give a presentation on keeping the language pledge. What an example of Chinese justice, and it rings faintly of the psychological torture that the Chinese were so fond of employing during the cultural revolution, against their own neighbors and family! I sat through the lecture smugly, and then listened to Director Zhang give us a rambling spiel on our un-studiousness.
Then, it was time for the debate. Allow me to expound on one aspect of the debate: we, the Americans, were to speak in Chinese for the debate, while the other team, consisting of Chinese students, was to speak English. This will be interesting. The two teams – one consisting of 3 hopelessly Caucasian youths and one brown college student, faced off against 4 very Han Chinese students. Two of them told us their names and ages – which I promptly forgot – while two of them didn’t bother telling us anything about themselves. The debate drew on, and I would love to give a play-by-play account of the debate, but I will refrain from doing so as of current.
There was a rather entertaining moment during the debate, which I will recount here. I told the opposite team that my Chinese name wasHou ZhiMin, upon which they demanded to know my English name. I told them that my given name was James, but they could call me Jamey. During the debate, I made some point about international marriages, and the girl across the aisle responded excitedly. “I would like to respond to something that Jamey Hou said…” I couldn't help myself from laughing, which brought some deathly stares from my teammates. It was only natural that she should think that my English last name was Hou, or something to that nature, but I still found the situation pretty funny.
In celebration of the Americans demolishing the debate – a fact that would be highly contested, I am sure – the entirety of the 4th year students went to eat at Xiang YiFang. I sat at a table with Shazeda, Luke, and Teacher Shi. Teacher Shi picked the dishes for the meal, and I daresay that he did a fine job. We consumed fried rice, fried squid, potatoes, beef and gravy, and more, washing it down with cheap, lukewarm Beijing beer.
We walked back to dorm in twos and threes, where I occupied myself until riding to ZiZhu Park. There I was going to meet Biscuet, Stephen, and Jesse’s friends. Stephen was cataloguing the event with two very cool cameras, while Jesse and around 8 other friends played cards, sang, and kicked jianzi. I chatted with Stephen and Biscuet, and left the dorm around sunset. I had just enough time to eat my last PB&J from the bunker, and then board the bus bound for Beijing Opera.
The hotel in which the opera was held was as interesting as it was classy… This was my first opportunity to see Beijing Opera in person, and I sat in rapt attention for the duration of the show. I hope the pictures do justice to the opera performance. This I learned at the opera house: not all Beijing opera is equal, and the performance we saw tonight was only one of the 4 types of Beijing opera. The style opera that we watched tonight emphasizes martial arts and movements, somewhat lacking in the area of singing. This lack of opera singing was perfect for us, however, as the reedy tones of Beijing opera are extremely difficult to understand for those not born into the Chinese Club. I highly enjoyed the performance.
We rode the bus back to the dorm, and a group of us (Wes, Hannah, Will, Lillian, Marianne, James, Cailin, Joy and myself to be exact) went to eat at a hot-pot restaurant nearby. I didn’t know that such a place existed in such close proximity to the dorm, and I was pleasantly surprised by the meal. One perk for the females in your group is that, whilst your group is waiting to be served, there is a manicure service free of charge.
After this meal, I walked back to the hotel with Wes, Hannah, and Will. I hung out with Wes and Hannah for a bit, and then I retired for the evening.
Referencing what Jamey Hou said…
Love,
Jamey
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