Wales, no whales

French House, sorry for being the cruft on the blog, it’s a habit… (although seriously y’all should blog too… (saying that’s also a habit…))

I’ve been in the UK over a week now. My mom flew in with me, and we spent a few days in the Cotswolds, which is a lovely bit of England full of villages with names like “Stow-on-the-Wold” and “Bourton-on-the-Water” and “Mourton-in-Marsh”, sheep, and clotted cream. We had some hearty long walks through fields with cheese picnics, a few gin-and-tonic permutations, and an exciting day trip to Oxford - the museums are beautiful buildings with seriously impressive collections.

Now I’ve been in Wales for four days. I haven’t seen much of the countryside yet, unfortunately, and the small parts of Cardiff that I’ve seen haven’t been that extraordinary except for the giant castle in park. My mom did spend a day walking around Cardiff before she left and said that it’s a completely crazy city, but apparently in such an unexplainable way that I still have no idea what she meant. I’m staying in a suburb with my school’s math department head, who’s been very welcoming in a hands-off sort of way.

Mostly I’ve been occupied with the school I’m at, and that’s been quite a fascinating experience. It's an urban school with a diverse, largely Muslim, relatively poor student body. My first impression wasn’t great; the building is covered in peeling paint and smells like bleach, and I was seeing it at 6:55 AM, which probably didn’t add any charity to my viewpoint. I’ve learned since that the per-student budget is very low, less than $6,000. And yet all the adults I’ve spoken to - principal, program organizer, the Welsh Education Director that I sat next to at a dinner - after throwing around the words “challenging population”, have talked about the renown that the school has achieved for a remarkable transformation in the last few years. 

This made me suspicious. I’ve been thinking a lot about score inflation since my educational statistics class last semester, and the story of achieving fame for a rapid transformation with an underprivileged population sounds very similar to a lot of the American cheating scandals. In an interesting difference from American educational testing, where schools care most about standardized tests and students care most about SATs and grades, the targets here are more or less aligned: maximize students’ grades, which are determined by a government-mandated combination of standardized exams and projects. So there are very strong incentives for gaming the system, and I haven’t been surprised to see some evidence of sketchy behavior. The computer science teacher keeps doing a shifty-eyed dance of “Well, I’m not technically supposed to help them with their projects, but I figure as long as I don’t touch their keyboard it’s all right”. The music teacher hires her hairdresser to pretend to be an examiner to give the kids some pressure to perform. The school very intensively targets support to students just below a cut-off that the government uses to determine effectiveness, exactly as happens in many American schools. Many lessons are centered on working through practice exams, teaching concepts as they come up. Students take time out of classes to sit mandatory full-length mock exams. And the teachers often assign their students' grades for the government-mandated final projects; with so much at stake, for both the school and the students’ university admissions, I imagine it’s hard to stay objective.

The school also claims to be heavily data-focused, and that seems to be quite true. Students are sorted by math ability into seven or eight different levels. Kids take formal reading assessments frequently; those with difficulties are placed in special support programs, and the number of library books they check out is tracked and discussed at staff meetings. There are charts everywhere showing students’ photos along with their exam performance or other metrics, even in student-accessible spaces - I feel pretty bad for the kids who are in the “High effort, low progress” box in the hallway. I’ve met several staff members whose main job is data analysis. Bizarrely, you pay for the canteen by scanning your thumbprint. It all feels a little invasive, but I have to say that is seems effect in not letting kids drop through the cracks and get forgotten, as I’ve seen happen at my Cambridge school. Every teacher and administrator knows which students are particularly struggling or succeeding.

And I’ve actually been really impressed with most of the teaching and learning I’ve observed. The kids are majorly loud and burst out chatting as soon as a teacher turns around, though a “three… two… one…” usually buys a few seconds of peace. Yet much of the time, what they’re talking about is the material they’re covering. They’re curious and invested in learning, and the math material in particular seems fairly advanced - for example, I observed a class the other day where fourteen-year-olds were studying sampling techniques, which I didn’t encounter until AP Stats. I was particularly amused by a science class in which the thirteen-year-olds were trying to figure out how to set up the scales in their graphs. They were having a hilarious amount of difficulty in choosing the gradations, but they were really thinking about it rather than giving up. My favorite class that I’ve sat in on has been a group of thirteen-year-olds that were learning about symmetry. The teacher convinced them that she’d been a traveling magician on a motorbike with a caravan who charged fifty pounds for her famous paper-folding show; they were like 70% sold… “Miss, did you have a stage name?”. The most depressing class has been a group of fourteen-year-olds with severe disabilities or behavioral problems. It was so clear that the teacher - who was wonderful with the top-level group I’d seen earlier, and who ran the “crowd control” quite well even here - didn’t have the resources or specialized training to teach effectively to that group, that the kids had completely different challenges and levels of understanding, and that many of them were getting nothing whatsoever out of the class.

Lunchtime in the math staff room (closet/“cupboard”, actually) is a riot. In the first three days, I learned my colleagues’ preferred methods for murdering a classroom of children, breakup-by-Whatsapp drama, childbirth vaginal tearing experiences, and quite detailed sexual preferences. The Minister of Education remarked that the Welsh are congenitally nosy, and that seems rather born out. I’m expanding my vocabulary, too - why don’t we have “lush” and “brill” in the U.S.?

Generally I’m quite enjoying it here, and I feel like I’m getting opportunities to see all corners of a school in a pretty unique sort of way; it’s really making me want to take that education policy class at Harvard next semester. The lessons I’ve taught so far seem to have gone over decently, I have a bunch of exciting ones coming up, and I think I’m of sufficient interest to the kids (“Miss, do you know Donald Trump?”) that I might have a real impact. The education ministry is sending in people with cameras to make a mini-documentary about me and the other GTL instructors, which I am not happy about, but que sera...

Milan: City of Trickery

This past weekend, G. (’19), J. (’20), and I travelled to Milan, which is possibly the city with the most unexpected surprises so far. Here is a guide so that if you choose to visit Milan (it was fun!), you will be equipped with knowledge:

I actually like anchovy pizza.

1. The Entrance Test

After you arrive at the airport, there will be a friendly local who will offer to help you buy metro tickets. Ignore them. It’s extremely easy to buy tickets with the machines. These people will take your change or demand money for their service. Luckily, I recognized what the woman was doing and firmly told her we didn’t need her help, so we weren’t duped.

2. The Infinite Metro Loop

We were on the metro. The next stop would have been the stop we were going to get off at. BUT to my shock and great confusion, the metro started reversing direction. What? What is happening??? We arrived at the stop at the airport, and suddenly the metro started running in its original direction. This is the “Oscillating Metro Trap” where if you aren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t notice that you’re travelling back and forth between these three stops forever. To escape, get off at a stop, then walk to the other side of the metro station.

3. The Unattainable Treasure

On top of a terrace (Duomo).

Although The Last Supper is in a museum, you actually need to make a reservation a month in advance for tickets. Or, you could relent and buy a pricey tour, since lots of tour guides buy out all the tickets for this famous painting. Unfortunately, we did not know this, so we did not see it.

4. The Sea of Peddlers

In almost all the tourist places, there are many people who will try to sell you something. In short, if someone tries to talk to you, shut them down. I was impressed by G. (’19)’s ability to utterly and repeatedly reject such friendly-seeming people, although he was approached at least eight times. Meanwhile, unsure if these vendors are sexist, but J. (’20) and I were not asked once.

Milan is quite beautiful, and the city has great gelato. (The pizza is yummy, but not extraordinary). In all, I think my favorite part during the trip was when we were walking back from the Duomo under a golden cloudy sky at sunset, with rain droplets gently splashing down, and with a grape and chocolate gelato cone in hand, a rainbow behind me and the music of a talented street guitarist fading, I realized just how lucky I was to have MISTI.

The Hornet Adventures

It never rains. EVER!

What is France like? Not the tourist-y parts, but real France. In Southern France, because of the nice weather, a lot of people eat outdoors. This is very apparent in the small properties that restaurants own, where there are often tables set outside rather than inside the building.

In all of France, the food is better than in America. For around six euros, I can get a dessert, entree, and appetizer at a cafeteria near the school. More effort is made in the presentation of the dish, and the desserts aren't too sweet. It's also a well-balanced meal, including carbs, protein, and vegetables.

Boulangeries are amazing.

I think it's the combination of the great food and the great weather that my coworkers and I were placed in a critical situation today. Because of the great weather, we decide to eat outside for lunch. And because of the great food, various insects are attracted. Like hornets.

For context, most of my coworkers are masters students. In France, internships are only granted to masters students since at this step in the education ladder students understand what they are researching. Like I've mentioned before, my coworkers are at least four years older than me. And besides J. ('20), they are all guys.

Yesterday, the first hornet attacked. Our lunch was cut short as the large, menacing hornet hovered over someone's plate. Thus, a masters student in the navy (imagine a rather athletic, tall guy) proceeded to smash his chair on the table. As he puffed out his chest, assuming dominance over the meager insect, he then scrambled back in terror when the angry hornet zoomed out from under the chair.

Today, the hornet returned, probably thirsting for vengeance. Somehow, it knew to aim for the plate of the guy who was allergic to hornets. I didn't know this at the time, but apparently he had quite the traumatic experience recently when a hornet stung him on the lips after he sipped some Coca Cola.

While four out of the eight at our table jumped out of their chairs and backed away, I remained seated, grabbed a glass, and waited patiently for the hornet to settle on the tray. Then, I calmly lowered the upside down cup onto the table, encasing the hornet in a transparent prison.

Navy guy looked at me. "Vivian, you're a badass."

This beats MIT dining any day.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end. The hornet's brother arrived at the opposite end of the table, but now my coworkers were equipped with the knowledge of how to defeat this insect. Two people reached for empty glasses and eyed the enemy, who flew in random, spontaneous patterns to save itself. Suddenly, when the hornet was floating low on the platter, MC striked. And promptly shattered the glass the was holding to pieces.


I'll admit, I was laughing pretty hard. But at least I had the decency to ask if he was okay (he was). The hornet was probably frightened by this fierce show of strength because it flew away, and we returned to lunch as normal.

Back to work (my research).

Japan and Cultural Reflection

I decided to nip on* up to Japan for the weekend. I stayed at a hostel near Osaka airport Friday and Sunday night, and in Kyoto on Saturday - so I got to see a bit of two cities. I've been really bad about blogging in Taiwan (sorry, mom), so this will simultaneously be a blog post about various Taiwanese experiences that come to mind.

*forgive me 

Kyoto is full of literally thousands of temples, even more tourists, and pretty wooden houses and lanterns in the older parts. The tourists basically come in two varieties: European (kinda jarring to see so many white people after two months in Taiwan - like, wait, why is she taller than me?) and Asian (mostly Chinese and Korean, I think). Few Americans, interestingly. Most of the Asian tourists walk around Kyoto in rented wooden platform flip-flops and kimonos, which look both pretty silly on most people and uncomfortable. The temples are pretty, although I had some bad luck with seeing things - the most scenic hillside temple is currently covered in construction netting, trains were getting cancelled and delayed when I tried to go to the red-gate shrine park, and I arrived at both the castle and the famous Golden Pavilion right after closing time (that last part is probably more bad planning than bad luck). Many of the tourist sites are surrounded by shopping streets selling sweets, kimonos, fans, swords, tea, delicious pickled vegetables, and other things that look very exciting until you see the price tags. I was a little disappointed in the main food market - you can find most of the selection in a Taipei night market, but with more action and for a third of the price.

The Kyoto National Museum is off the main tourist track, but I went in on a whim and was so glad I did: it's beautifully curated and illuminated and has some incredible statues on loan - seeing the Bhuddist hell gods definitely makes you want to avoid Bhuddist hell. (Not sure how one does that, actually. Liz and I toured a huge Bhuddist monastery near Kaohsiung, southern Taiwan, where we got VIP treatment because my mentor's uncle is the village mayor. The museum there emphasized entirely non-religious, liberal-westerner-friendly values - compassion, tolerance, charity, etc. But that's a particular Taiwanese sect known for being pragmatically focused. I'm sure how different Japanese traditions are; there wasn't a lot of information posted in the temples.) The other part of Kyoto that I really liked was Arashiyama, an area on the northern edge of the city. There's a little bamboo forest swarming with tourists, tourists getting photographed in geisha makeup, tourists sitting on rickshaws getting pulled by Japanese men in cone hats, etc. But I went farther, as instructed by the Turkish staff guy at Hostel Santiago, and had a really nice long walk through little villages and more temples. 

I went to Osaka for a couple hours yesterday evening. It's different from quiet, cutesy Kyoto - very modern, very colorful, and very loud. I wandered around the boisterous shopping arcades and saw a small outdoor concert, then had chirashi and plum wine (good stuff).

Miscellaneous impressions:

The train system is super-elaborate, which also makes it hard to navigate. I was kind of amazed by how much harder it felt to get around than in Taiwan - after all, I still don't speak much more Chinese than I do Japenese; but somehow Taiwan feels familiar enough now that transportion doesn't feel like a challenge. (Having an unlimited data plan helps, too. I was reminded this weekend that paper bus maps are a thing that exist, and what a wonderful thing they are.) 

Japanese toilets, including in public bathrooms, are exactly as high-tech as one might hope. On the other hand, soap is not a thing in a lot of places - slightly disconcerting in restaurants. (It's unclear to me why the CDC considers Japan to have American-level food safety standards, but Taiwan to be an aah-don't-touch-the-street-food third-world danger zone.)

Everything is super expensive, especially compared to Taiwan. Prices for food, transportation, hostels, tourist attractions, etc. are even higher than American ones, I think. 

None of the meals I ate were exceptional - definitely not for the price. Flavors are generally mild and portions quite small, although things come beautifully presented with a bunch of tiny dishes. 

People generally don't seem super-friendly (except this one old man in a village who kept smiling and waving at me from across the street) - even the information-counter staff made me

feel as though they were doing me a big favor. People do seem to warm up once you talk to them a little more, though. My perception here is probably colored by several cultural factors: first, Japanese people don't generally seem comfortable in English (nor I in Japanese, of course). I think it might also be the case that they tend to be uncomfortable with foreigners in general; that's what I was told by Taiwanese coworkers, but I don't really have enough evidence to judge. It also seems that facial expressions are used differently - that people just tend to smile less, which my American lens translates as coldness. 

Maybe my biggest impression, unfortunately, is how patriarchal and sexualized the culture is, and how immediately obvious that is. I noticed as soon as I got off the plane that women dress differently than in Taiwan. The Taiwanese notion of femininity (which is already much more constraining than in the West) generally involves a cute, innocent look - think loose, shapeless dresses over white t-shirts. Japanese women dress much more to emphasize their figures. It seemed like practically every young woman, especially in Osaka, was wearing heels, full makeup, carefully done hair, a tailored outfit, etc. I parsed this at first as just a difference in sartorial taste, but after seeing the cities, I think it's more a reflection of cultural expectations - pretty exhausting ones, too. Kyoto and Osaka are both filled with an impressively creative variety of methods of objectifying women: hostess lounges, special massage parlors (best name: "Mrs. Banana"),  strip clubs, geisha parlors (this culture is huge in Kyoto, and I won't pretend to know enough about it to comment further), "girl karaoke", cosplay-girl party centers, porn mags at the ramen counter, and on and on. I talked about some of this with a Ukrainian professor of art history, who specializes in Japanese culture, that I met in the Kyoto hostel. She told me about some elements of the cultural background - like the absence of a Judeo-Christian concept of forgiveness, which makes "saving face" so crucial, and the expectation that women take up as little space as possible, even to the point of holding their thumbs folded in. She said that for her Japanese women friends abroad, it's much easier to live outside Japan because the burden of expectations is so much smaller. Interestingly, she also talked about the near-nonexistent rape rate - she seemed to feel that the open sexuality somehow contributes to keeping violence low. My hunch, though - supported by this harrowing Quora thread - is that assault of various forms exists but is very rarely reported or prosecuted. I had some drunk businessmen lunge at me on the street (in an "oh ha ha white person let's yell in English that sounds fun" kind of way, not in an intimidating way); it seems hard to believe that said wasted businessmen, in an environment where women are provided for their amusement, would never fail to "be a gentleman", as the sign outside "Geisha Beautiul Ladies Hostess Lounge" instructs. Some other fun facts from cursory Googling: workplace sexual harassment is not illegal; the pill was illegal until 1999; until last year, women (but not men) were required to wait six months to remarry after divorce, and there's still a waiting period for pregnant women.

https://www.quora.com/Why-are-the-rape-statistics-for-Japan-so-low

I've been realizing, this summer, just how much a child of the West I am. Even in Taiwan - which is by all accounts the most liberal, gender-equal, and generally most West-like country in Asia - the culture can feel stifling. People are constantly surprised that I do X by myself (with X often as simple as taking a bus to work!). I'm not sure to what degree that's because people just generally don't do things alone much, to what degree it's because I'm a foreigner and don't speak Chinese, and to what degree it's because I'm female. I suspect a little of each. A lot of things that are really important for me - independence, spontaneity, risk-taking, heterogeneity - are just not part of the culture here.

I went to a MISTI training a couple of years ago where they talked about the anthropological division between group-oriented and individual-oriented societies. I didn't get what that meant while travelling in Europe or Israel, but I'm coming to understand it now, and it's real. I think the difference is enough that I could never really feel like I belong in Asia (even setting aside physical distinctiveness), in the same way that I could be comfortable in Europe or the US or Canada or Israel. 

That's certainly not to say I don't like it here! I've really enjoyed my time in Taiwan (would recommend a visit to everyone - probably more than Japan tbh, especially if you're on a budget...), and I want to see much more of the continent (in part because I've spent the last couple of paragraphs generalizing about a couple billion people based on my passing familiarity with a few cities, and that seems slightly problematic... especially since Taiwan considers itself culturally closest to Japan, which means that the differences among other countries in Asia are probably greater than the difference between Taiwan and Japan). But I'm looking forward to coming back to the undignified, mixed-up U.S. coastal bubble. And I wonder if I can squeeze in an anthropology class next year...