I’m currently writing to you from a packed physics classroom at Zhu Wei High School, a ~30-minute bus ride from the dorms. Today is HIGH SCHOOL VISITING DAY!
NSLI-Y arranges for us to visit high schools 3-4 times during our stay in Taiwan in the name of “international exchange.” These visits are not totally in-line with the rest of NSLI-Y programming in that, instead of the primary goal being Chinese language immersion, the intention here is to not only get a taste of the education system in Taiwan, but also to give Taiwanese students a taste of American life. My classmate Jennifer and I were tasked with presenting on “American culture” earlier this morning, which is quite a hefty challenge. I tried to toe the line between touting America’s cultural successes and making note of its shortfalls, all without giving too much of an extensive history lesson (and, because we were asked to speak in English, I tried to simplify things down). Note: when you’re dancing around controversial topics, you can’t advertise American culture by saying:
We may have school shootings, but at least we have big military tanks and cultural imperialism!
So, instead, I zoned in on… convenience culture. Or really, America’s lack thereof. Namely, our limited share of high-quality 24/7 “convenience stores”, our expensive medical system, our public transportation that varies in quality/cleanliness/timeliness/convenience, and our farmers’ markets—which deeply contrast Taiwanese 夜市 (night markets).
After presenting, I met up with my high school buddy, whom I am following around all day. Such a cute experience; all my NSLI-Y classmates were greeted with personalized signs and bubble tea.
We were given a brief tour of the campus, followed by one of my most memorable moments in Taiwan thus far: students from all corners of the school (which is both a middle and high school), running out to the buildings’ balconies to get a glimpse of all the 外國人 (foreigners). I felt like I had my own paparazzi team. And even as I walked into the first classroom of the day—my heart racing as I tried to prepare a five-minute self-introduction in my head—I was met with swarms of students who all screamed joyously at the sight of my red hair. One girl even yelled, “SHOW ME THE HANDSOME MEN!” (Sorry to disappoint.) A notable aspect of this first-period class is that all the students are preparing for a large test that will take place next week. So, in order to prepare, they are spending the entire hour-long class reading through a packet the teacher handed out and answering multiple-choice questions. The classroom is dead-silent save for the rustling of flipping paper, and the teacher makes her way up and down the rows of desks, peering over students’ shoulders. In the 40 minutes that I’ve been sitting at this desk, not once has any student asked a question. Perhaps you would find this type of self-study in an American classroom, but certainly not this extent of discipline. I used to think of in-class study as “throw-away” days in middle and high school; I’d rather ask questions and conversate with the teacher about quizzed material and then go home to study.