Great Call of China (S.A.S.S.) (6 page)

“Hey,” Cece whispered.

Kallyn smiled. “Hey.” She was holding a yellow sheet of paper. “They passed this out. You want to share?”

“Sure.” Cece moved over, then listened to what Jenny was saying.

“Over the next nine weeks, you will spend six hours in class every day in language, culture, evolution, and archaeology, respectively. The rest of your time can be spent as you wish, unless there is a required excursion or event. We will discuss that when we finish explaining your grades.”

“You will notice from your handout,” Mark continued, “each of your four classes makes up twenty percent of your grade. The remaining twenty percent comes from a team project.”

Cece glanced at the paper Kallyn was holding. It detailed everything hour by hour, the locations of the rooms, the teachers, and a summary of how their grades would be calculated.

“The program is entirely pass/fail,” Mark said. “Your grades across subjects are tabulated together. If your average falls below seventy, you do not pass, and you do not receive college credit. Seventy or above, and you’re a go. Astound us with something much better than that, and we send you home with a certificate commending your achievements for your parents,
and
we’ll give you recommendations to the university of your choice.”

Cece listened closely. Any opportunity to get a leg up for college was one she was going after.

“You may be wondering what your team projects are all about,” Mark went on. “Let us show you an example from last year’s group.”

The lights dimmed as a screen came down from overhead. Opening credits appeared, titling the film:
The Great Wall: Years in the Making.
An American teenager dressed in a spectacularly ill-fitting royal costume spoke Chinese to a crowd of students. Subtitles ran across the bottom of the screen as the film explained how the walls were constructed and how techniques differed from dynasty to dynasty. The students acted it out by first hauling dirt across the set, then bricklike stones, and eventually giant, fat boulders. They also portrayed different leaders of the times, instructing workers to tear down or rebuild the walls to suit their needs. The acting was over the top, but the movie was extremely informative at the same time.

At the film’s conclusion, the audience clapped.

“That was pretty corny,” Kallyn whispered.

“No kidding,” Cece replied. “But the students really seemed to have a handle on their Chinese. It must have taken them weeks to get that down.”

“Well, maybe I can be the cameraman,” Kallyn said.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Cece replied.

“As you can see,” Jenny said when the lights came on, “you will be making a documentary. This film should address subject matter from at least two of your courses while focused on one specific topic. And you are also encouraged to make it fun.”

“That’s right,” Mark said. “Anthropology doesn’t have to be dry and boring. Now, if you turn over your handout, you’ll see a calendar of our excursions.”

Kallyn flipped the paper over.

“To give everyone time to get comfortable with classes, we’ll take our first outing at the end of the program’s second week. We’ll begin with the major destinations within the city, such as the Bell Tower, the Drum Tower, and the City Walls. Then the following week, we’ll see the Terra Cotta Warriors and Horses, located just outside of Xi’an. Right before midterms, we’ll take our big trip to Beijing for the must-see Great Wall and Forbidden City, and when we get back, things will calm down, with a few smaller trips to local museums. This way, you have time to prepare for final exams in your classes and complete your team projects.

“Now, one last thing about your free time here. We expect you to spend it as any college student would—however you like—but that means you will also need to be extremely self-directed to stay on task. We’re cramming an entire semester’s worth of classes into nine weeks, so things move fast here. It’s easy to get overwhelmed.”

Next Jenny introduced the faculty, four professors who took turns at the podium and discussed their classes and their expectations of the students. Two of them were adjunct professors from the United States who were on an “exchange” of their own with Xi’an University. The other two were local to XU. All of them seemed like standard faculty material, except for the culture teacher, Professor Hu, who spoke English so poorly, Cece could barely understand her. The fact that the woman was probably seventy-five years old didn’t help, either. After Professor Hu stepped down, Kallyn and Cece looked at each other. “Did you get a word of what she said?” Kallyn asked.

“Uh. . . she kinda lost me at
Hey-ro
.”

Kallyn and Cece started giggling, but that quickly ended when Mark said, “Now, Jenny and I are passing out proficiency exams. This was the test I mentioned at dinner last night. I need everyone to sit at least two seats apart.” Students started moving, and Cece grudgingly picked up her things and moved to her original seat.

“You have exactly two hours to complete it,” Jenny said. “Your performance will determine how we sort you into class sections and assign your project teams.”

Cece broke out into a cold sweat as she took the test. It covered everything from the species of the first man discovered in China to “How do you say ‘Where is the restroom? ’ in Mandarin Chinese?” After she turned it in, she was certain she had flunked at least a quarter of it.

“I could eat like a gallon of Rocky Road right now,” Kallyn said as they filed out of the lecture hall and into the lobby. “There is no way I passed.”

“I’ll bring the hot fudge,” Cece added.

More students came out of the lecture hall.

“So, where are you headed next?” Kallyn asked.

“I’m supposed to meet my host, Peter, at the gate,” Cece said. “He wants to take me around town.”

“Hey, me, too. You want to go together?”

“Sure.”

“Cece, there you are!” Jessica stepped into the lobby with Lisa. She gave Kallyn a quick look. “Oh, hi!”

“This is Kallyn,” Cece said. “Kallyn, meet Jessica, my roommate. And that’s Lisa.”

“Hello,” Kallyn said with a nod.

“Nice to meet you,” Jessica said. Then she quickly turned to Cece. “Lisa and I were going to get a massage.”

“A massage?”

“Yeah,” Lisa said, “it’s like eight dollars for two and a half hours of
heaven
. I booked a room for three of us already. But I can add Kallyn if she wants to come.”

“Well. . .” Cece began. She’d never had a massage before, and the idea of lying on a table with some random stranger touching her everywhere totally creeped her out. “Actually, Kallyn and I are meeting our hosts. Do you guys mind if we pass?”

Jessica shrugged. “No, I guess we could change it to two. But you have to be back at the room by eight. We’ve made
special
plans.”

Special plans?
Cece could only imagine it had something to do with the guys again. She still wasn’t exactly psyched to see Will, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. “Sure, I’ll see you at eight.”

“Great,” Jessica said. “Later, girls!” She and Lisa headed off.

“So Jessica’s your roommate,” Kallyn remarked. “She seems nice.”

“She is,” Cece said. “What about your roommate?

“Um. . . let’s just say that the word
weird
doesn’t cut it. I knew Angelica and I wouldn’t exactly be the best of friends when she started hanging up posters of famous vampires in historical literature all over her side of the room.”

“Oh, I see.” Maybe she was lucky to have Jessica for a roommate.

They continued walking and met up with Peter and Kallyn’s host, James. Everyone made introductions, and it turned out Peter and James already knew each other from a couple of classes together at XU.

“Kallyn and I were thinking all of us could go together today,” Cece said.

“Sure,” Peter said. “What do you think, James?”

He nodded. “That is a good idea. Maybe we can travel to the city center for lunch?”

Cece liked the idea. She remembered how they’d passed the center of town yesterday on their way from the airport, and she’d love to see what was within the walls. Once everyone agreed, they walked to a nearby stop and got onto a public bus. It was jammed with people, but Cece somehow managed to stand close enough to a win dow. She watched as they passed through a large tunnel in a section of the wall. When the bus emerged on the other side, a giant imperial-style building, elevated on a wide stone pedestal, stood at the middle of a roundabout. Cece instantly recognized the structure from her program brochure—the Bell Tower, the symbol of the city. She couldn’t wait to visit it when the program took its tour.

The bus stopped, and Peter and James ushered Cece and Kallyn off. As they walked along a crowded street lined with trendy clothing stores and fast-food restaurants, Peter explained they were headed for the Chinese Muslim Quarter, one of the main attractions within the City Walls.

“Chinese Muslims?” Cece said.

“China has a long history of Islam,” Peter said. “The quarter is one of the most historical places in Xi’an. You did not know?”

Cece and Kallyn shook their heads.

“Xi’an was the beginning of the Silk Road,” James explained. “Many Middle Eastern merchants settled here and they built”—he stared at Peter—
“Qingzhen si?”

“Mosques,” Peter translated.

James nodded. “Yes, mosques. The Muslim Quarter has the largest and oldest mosque in China. It was constructed in the fourteenth century. We will see it after lunch.”

Cece nodded. She’d love to see what a mosque that old looked like.

Soon they approached a narrower street marked by a gate with a banner above written in Chinese and English. Cece read, WELCOME TO BEIYUANMEN ISLAMIC STREET. The Muslim Quarter was a feast of sights and sounds. The main thoroughfare was paved with wide rectangular stones that gave the street an old feel, and it was closed to traffic, allowing visitors to stroll the shops and restaurants on either side. Snack carts dotted the walkways, and vendors called for passersby to taste their offerings. Overhead, Cece noticed a number of wooden birdcages hanging from the trees, each inhabitant singing its song. She took it all in, smiling. It was such an interesting place.

“The Muslim Quarter has some of Xi’an’s best and most authentic cuisine,” James boasted as they approached a restaurant.

Hearing the word “authentic” made Cece feel uncertain, but as they stepped inside, Peter whispered, “Don’t worry. You will like this food—no heads, no eyes.” Cece smiled weakly and entered the restaurant. The place smelled inviting, like a home-cooked meal of pot roast baking in the oven. They took a seat at a long cafeteria-style table, and Peter and James ordered for Cece and Kallyn. Within minutes, giant bowls of a broth soup lay before them. “We are having
yangrou paomo
,” Peter said. “It is a traditional Xi’an Muslim dish.” The server set down a plate of white bread that looked like pitas.

“The bread is called
mo
,” James said.

“You break it into your soup, like this.” Peter ripped the bread into bits and dropped them into his bowl.

Cece and Kallyn did the same. Cece watched as the pieces expanded, soaking up the flavors of the soup.

“Now eat,” Peter said.

Following his lead, Cece picked up her chopsticks and loaded her plastic spoon—a little bread, some vegetables, a piece of lamb. Then she scooped it into her mouth. Her tongue tasted an amazing combination of flavors she’d never encountered before. The broth was tangy, spicy, rich.... Maybe she
would
like some of the food here after all.

Afterward, Cece paid for her share, which came to about twelve yuan, less than a $1.50 in the United States. As they all stepped outside, James said, “Now we will take you to see some history.”

They didn’t have to walk far before they arrived at the Great Mosque. The architectural elements of the mosque were nothing like Cece had expected. She remembered what a mosque was supposed to look like from a global history class she had taken in school, and this wasn’t it. Instead of domes and minarets, this mosque looked very Chinese, with many of the buildings built like pagodas.

In the courtyards, tourists and locals milled about. A prayer hall toward the rear of the mosque was large enough to hold hundreds of worshippers. As Cece took a picture of the courtyard with the hall in the background, something in the corner of the frame caught her eye. She spotted a young Asian girl who reminded her of herself when she was a toddler. The girl had the same blunt hair-cut and was holding a Popsicle. Her mother was resting on a bench, plastic bags of groceries beside her, enjoying the solitude of the area. The girl hopped from one stone tile to the next, like she was playing a game of hopscotch. Cece lowered her camera and suddenly wondered what it would have been like if she had grown up here. With her birth mother looking on. Smiling at her like that.

“Hey, Cece,” Kallyn said, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you ready to move on?”

Cece turned toward Kallyn, who was now standing beside her. Peter and James were by one of the gates as if they were ready to leave.

“Yeah,” Cece said, giving the little girl one last glance. She quickly took a picture of the hall and followed Kallyn toward their hosts.

“Who is up for some bargain shopping?” Peter said as they left the mosque.

“I’m in,” Cece said.

Kallyn rubbed her hands together. “Me, too.”

“Great, then we are in the right place,” James said. “The Muslim District holds the largest souvenir market in Xi’an.”

Peter and James led them to a network of alleys just behind the restaurants they had passed earlier. Cece couldn’t believe what she saw. One minute, they were standing in a peaceful mosque, and the next, every square inch of her visual field was filled with dozens of stalls carrying merchandise—knockoff Gucci and Prada handbags, Polo shirts, jackets, suitcases. In addition to the fakes, every tchotchke imaginable was available, including chops—jade stampers that were used to seal documents with red wax—ivory Buddhas, miniature mahjong sets, and statuettes of the Terra Cotta Warriors.