GUANGDONG PEIZHENG COLLEGE LIFE

The campus of Guangdong Peizheng College is undergoing some renovations, as is most of China, but despite this it remains strikingly beautiful. Nestled in lush Chinese countryside and bordered by a lake on one side, it feels like an ideal atmosphere for scholarly pursuits. When I arrive it is a ghost campus, deserted by nearly all for the summer, but soon it will be a buzzing hive of social activity. My friend Albert and I enjoy many of the campus facilities during this interval of calm before the coming term. The Olympic size pool offers some escape from the heat as it blasts out techno music as loud as you’ve ever heard into the hot afternoon air, like a rhythmic broadcast throughout the campus that fun is being had here. Pouring rain didn’t stop us from enjoying the tennis courts, although two foreigners so stubbornly ignoring the weather must have been a strange sight to the locals. I did learn how to keep score in Mandarin.

Across from the campus are a series of eateries along with the bus stop, which is the hub of transportation from the campus into the rest of China. The eateries become more crowded as students begin to arrive, and one evening while we dine (on pineapple chicken and rice with soy milk) outside under a large yellow canopy, I notice that groups of students are largely segregated by gender. There are girls tables and guys tables, and the only exceptions I can find are a few couples eating together alone. Another peculiar thing I noticed on campus was that girls are always carrying umbrellas, especially on particularly sunny days. I inquired about this to Albert, who explained that Chinese girls try to avoid sunlight at all costs, because whiter skin is considered more beautiful. Many even use a product called ‘whitening cream’ to cover up any sun exposure. I marvel at how opposite that is from America, where women literally radiate and fry their skin to become darker.

One day, we catch a ride from Huadu back to the campus in what I can only describe as a privately owned and operated taxi-van. Essentially, these are just guys with vans who hang out around bus stops and offer rides for cash (this would never fly in the West, with all of our distrust and regulations and frivolous lawsuits). Usually, if you can get a big enough group together to fill the van and split the cost, it is worth the quicker trip. Today we share a taxi-van with five students and a driver. One is a former student in one of Albert’s English classes, so naturally we all strike up conversation. Honestly, this girl looks like she could be fifteen, but Albert later assures me that she is most likely in her early twenties. They are a bit timid about speaking English, but they seem to enjoy the exchange. One of the girls tells me I have beautiful eyes, and I tell her thank you, and that her English is very good. She says it’s not very good, but I assure her that her English is better than my Chinese. She tells me that she has been learning English since fifth grade. Another student struggles through a conversation in English with Albert, and as laughter fills the air I notice that the mood amidst this motley gang of strangers is undeniably pleasant and warm. I rarely find such amiable openness in America.