Journey Into China, Day 5: Bullet Trains and Chinese Students in Shandong

Shandong Province in Spring out the window of a speed train.
High rises and development abound. . 

Sunday, March  22

Sunday starts early.  My eyes click open at 4:45 once more, and as I send e-mails and prepare for the day ahead, I watch the sunlight reflect off the morning pollution of Qingdao. Even though this maritime city enjoys the cleansing effects of the Pacific Ocean, the intense industrialization of the surrounding 6 million people creates a thick smog that swallows the morning city.

Today we travel two hours by train a few hundred miles west to Jinan, the capital of Shandong province.  We taxi west to the historic city, where the beaux- arts European train station anchors the old center of town.  Our group of six drags our bags through the streets, down staircases, through turnstiles, into waiting areas, and finally onto the bullet train.  These speed trains are the pride of the country, and they already supersede the TGV in France, Amtrak in America, and others.  The Chinese are playing catch up and they will be for a while, but their trains are futuristic.  I settle in to my window seat, and as we soar forward, I look plaintively out the window at the endless development, industrialization, factories, power plants, quarries, parking lots, freeways, high rises.  It. . . . never . . . ends.  The metronomic movement of the train lulls me to sleep as the buildings give way to wheat fields.  

I rouse myself on entering Jinan, where once again development assaults the senses.  Cranes, spires of smoke, hundreds of high rises, construction in every direction.  We disembark at Jinan station and taxi to our luxury hotel, replete with illuminated marble, tumbling glass chandeliers, white marble floors, lounges and restaurants.  This must be one of the premier properties in the city.  I check into my room, settle, and put on my coat and tie for the afternoon event.

At 2 PM I head to the 2nd floor.  Here there are some 30 Chinese families, a handful of young Chinese ladies working for New Oriental, and then the European/American school sales people (e.g. me).  We, the foreign da bizi (Big Noses) are the guests of honor.  We introduce ourselves, and then, in a few 15 minute presentations, we introduce our schools.  I go last.  I’ve done this five or six times by now, and I have my slideshow, my speech, my points of emphasis, and my demeanor, down.  I know when to dip into Chinese and when to pull back for English.  I know the easy jokes to tell.  I anticipate the questions before they come.  Today I’m presenting to about 35 parents, as students are in another room.  It goes well.

NI Hao Jinan!

Afterwards I occupy an adjacent ballroom for two hours, where I interview some 15 Chinese students:  boys and girls,14-17, confident and terrified, fluent and confused.  I meet all kinds of students.  In general I continue to be impressed that such young people are prepared to venture overseas to seek their futures.  They dream of America, they are worried about their English ability, and they want their lives to be a little easier, a little cleaner, a little more fun.

As the event closes I speak in Chinese with some mothers who are most curious about our school, especially the Summer Program.  I battle in Chinese to make my points, and I’m mostly successful.  Will she send her students to us?  Maybe.  I think she will, but it’s so hard to know which of the bait will take, which of the seeds will grow.

The event closes and we stroll to the old city opera house district for dinner.  We enter the private room with Neil (a lead Jinan agent) and Wanda (a personable and bilingual support agent) and our entourage of Tomas, Emma, Mark, Clyde, and Zhi. We enjoy a superlative feast, and I eat one of everything, including a spicy fish and tofu soup. We stroll home through the chilly evening, and a full day draws to a close.