As I recover from jet lag – sleeping much of the day and lying awake at night – I have had time to reflect on my summer in China and to realize how fortunate I am to have experienced China in a way not often available to foreigners. I’ve taken part in normal “tourist” activities – I hiked the Great Wall, bargained with shopkeepers in Beijing and enjoyed the exhibits at the World Expo in Shanghai, but I also had an opportunity to take a deeper look into life in China, the way it is experienced by most of China’s people. Roughly 70 percent of China’s people live in its rural interior, away from the hustle and bustle of Beijing and the gleaming modern buildings of Shanghai. Here, families spend their days working in the fields and, in the evenings, the adults enjoy “mazhang,” an ancient Chinese game played with domino-like pieces.
I had an internship for the month of May with China California Heart Watch (Chinacal), a U.S. non-profit organization that operates in rural China, screening adults for hypertension and children for congenital heart defects. In some instances, Chinacal arranges and finances corrective surgeries. On this trip, we set up health clinics in villages in Xishuangbanna, a few miles from China’s border with Myanmar. The villagers appreciated the opportunity for medical screening, and crowded around the tables where interns took medical histories and measured blood pressures, heights and weights before sending the patients to our doctors. I had hoped to practice speaking Mandarin, but most of our patients were of the Dai minority, which has its own language. I got to use my rudimentary mime skills instead, demonstrating taking blood pressure, so that the villagers would understand what I was about to do. Many returned to the clinic, bringing family and friends – hopefully so they could see the doctor, but possibly to have a chance to see the foreigner.
The other Chinacal interns were Chinese-American, so they did not attract as much attention as I did. There are few Westerners who visit rural villages in Xishuangbanna, and we learned quickly that my “foreign-ness” opened some doors. I was drawn toward a party of villagers wearing beautiful, colorful clothing. By the time I realized I had accidentally crashed a wedding, the bride and groom were making their way toward me to offer me food and drink! Perhaps to ease my embarrassment, the bride’s father told me it was very good luck to have a foreigner at a wedding, and he encouraged me to stay. I did, for a while, and was even asked to pose for pictures with the wedding party.
In early June, I joined a group of Chinese graduate students from Xi’an on a trip to southern Shaanxi Province. In collaboration with Stanford University’s Rural Education Action Project, Professor Yaojiang Shi of China’s Northwestern University is researching the impact of nutritional deficiencies on student performance in rural schools. On this trip, we administered research surveys and aptitude tests, and screened the children for anemia. I got more language practice than I was ready for (we communicated only in Mandarin, with the occasional phrase in broken English), but I appreciated the opportunity to see the rural boarding school system. The team introduced me to school principals as “a friend from America.” I was the first foreigner many of the students had ever seen. As I crossed the school courtyards, I often heard whispers, followed by giggles and shouts of “Waiguo ren!” (“Foreigner!”). Children who were the best in English were pushed forward by their classmates to speak with me. I was amazed that these young children in rural China could speak to me in English.
I visited a village in far northern Shaanxi, where I stayed with Professor Shi’s relatives. Here, the villagers have lived in cave-dwellings for centuries. I saw the cave home where Professor Shi’s great-grandfather was born and paid respects at his ancestors grave site. The Shis treated me as an honored guest, escorting me around the village and preparing a feast of lamb.
I had experienced the Chinese culture during previous trips to China, but never before had I experienced the warm hospitality of the rural villagers. I appreciated the many shared cups of “cha” (tea) and the opportunity to gain a deeper appreciation for China.