Bored as a Stiff

One summer, when I was between semesters in college, I got a job cutting potatoes for seed. Every morning for several weeks, I and my coworkers descended into a dark potato shed, aligned ourselves at a conveyor belt and proceeded to slice the potatoes that rolled by for several hours. I fought boredom by singing, which, fortunately for my coworkers, could not be heard over the roar of the machinery.

Most college students have scrambled for menial pay in work where mental stimulation is not part of the job description. Some people, by choice or necessity, spend their entire lives in similar work. This thought was forcefully brought to mind by my recent studies.

This morning I was reading from a book called "Modern Introduction to International Law." (No, that is not the boring part.) The particular section dealt with diplomatic property. This sentence got me going: "'Bugging' of diplomatic premises, which is not mentioned in the Vienna Convention [protecting diplomatic property], is contrary to the spirit of the Convention, but is probably too widespread to be regarded as illegal."

It occurs to me that right now, it is someone's job to be listening to the bugs planted in the apartments of the foreign teachers in China (we have been warned that our apartments are probably bugged). I would think that for the most part, it would be like listening to conveyor belt machinery.

And so, as I think back to all the menial employment I suffered through to pay for my education, I am reminded that it could be worse. I could be a career "listener" in China. Maybe they sing.

Just Memorize the Book, You'll Be Fine

In 1985, Ronald Reagan was president, leaded gas was officially banned in the US, and I spent my last semester as an official student. That was too long ago to fully prepare me for the rigors of last week.

As part of our commitment to teach in China, Cal and I are in the middle of a two-week, 100 hour course that covers Chinese history, culture, religion, politics, economics and foreign policy as well as teaching English as a second language, writing, and survival Chinese. You can do the math. That's fifty hours a week, 10 hours a day, and one exhausted brain.

Actually, it is not just my exhausted brain. Forty nine other people are going through this with me, many of them more long of tooth than I. We commiserate over aging brain cells, little sleep and campus fast food. But we seem to be holding up pretty well. Thus far, I have heard only one person snoring during a lecture.

I think we are running on adrenaline. After all, we are going to a very foreign country to live. We do not speak the language. We are expected to deal with upwards of 150 young people in a university setting, in addition to the faculty, administrators and the guy that fixes our toilet. Of course we are awake during our training!

So halfway through, I can honestly say I've learned a lot in this petrified state of mind. I'm excited that we have this opportunity and I hope we are prepared. After all, our final exam will be in a Chinese classroom.