Growing up, I was fascinated with conquest. My friends and I would always play ‘war’ outside after school, running through the forest in surplus army coats, wooden rifles in our hands. I played computer games where I would build vast empires, and wage massive wars against my computer foes, reducing their cities to ash and rubble. I felt a strange admiration for the columns of Russian soldiers marching across the screen in history class, with their crisp uniforms and bayonets gleaming in the sun. I was awed by the ability of leaders like Sherman, Patton, Rommel, and Nelson to command legions of men in battle and wreak havoc on their enemies.

Today I am the exact opposite.

I admire the works of Gandhi and Martin Luther King and I try and live up to the basic tenets of world religions that call for fairness, humbleness, charity, and hospitality. Thus, it has become increasingly difficult for me to connect with many of the historical events I teach about. The ruthlessness and savagery that humans are capable of has come to baffle me. Specifically, within history class, I find there are many questions that I no longer know the answer to:

What could possibly motivate a leader like Genghis Khan to attempt and rule all of the known world? Why, after the horrors of World War One, did European nations not stand up to the expansionist policies of Germany and Italy? How could Allied leaders give Shandong peninsula (a region in China) to Japan as a concession after World War One? Had they not learned about the dangers and drawbacks of colonization?

I have recently found the answers to many of these questions. Yet I did not find the answers in a textbook or a lecture hall but rather, in a board game!

A few weeks ago my coworkers and I started playing a board game called Diplomacy. The game is similar to Risk, the board is a map of the world and the object of the game is to dominate the map. It is different from Risk because the element of chance is removed, no dice are used. All the military units are of equal value. The only way to capture a territory is by combining your forces or working with other players, hence the name of the game.

The board with players in their starting locations. I am playing as the Western Frankish Empire (purple).

The particular game we are playing is an online version of an older board game created by Avalon Hill. The original game was set in Europe on the verge of World War One. Our game is set in the ‘known world’ in the year 901 CE.

Turns take place every 24 hours. Between turns, players find themselves plotting their move by sending emails and text messages to each other, or meeting in a secluded location. Moves are entered into the computer privately, thus it is possible to make a verbal agreement with someone then stab them in the back during the actual game.

This is only the second time I have played this game. The first time I played it, I lasted all of three turns. I was far to nice and trusting. Some of the basic lessons of diplomacy I have taken away are as follows:

1. Players are motivated by self-interest alone, bonds of friendship mean nothing.
2. Players require an incentive to act on behalf of someone else, they will not help out of goodwill.
4. Players never have a sense of complete trust, even when dealing with close friends.
3. Players will take extreme measures to benefit themselves, often at the expense of others.

This may seem obvious, but the game has to be played to experience these phenomenon first hand. To hear your close friend or colleague say “Yeah, that plan sounds fine but, what’s in it for me?” or “I see you are about to get attacked, but there is no incentive for me to help you.” The ugly world of realpolitik.

Tying this back to teaching history, I have gained a new understanding of historical events by experiencing similar phenomena in the game. For example:

Early in the game, I approached ‘Spain’ to form an alliance. The negotiation seemed unlikely for two reasons:
(1) I represent a medieval Christian kingdom and Spain, at the time, was an Islamic caliphate. Historically speaking Christians and Muslims have not been the best of friends. (2) The person playing as ‘Spain’ was someone who I had recently gotten in a fight with and we were not on the best of terms.

The alliance has turned out to be extremely profitable for both of us, and it has stayed in place at least up to this point. I credit this success to numerous factors, which have historical precedent:

(1) China’s preeminent military strategist in classical times, Sun Tzu (孙子), one said, “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” I finally understand the meaning of this quote. When two people have historically been at odds with each other, but are forced into a partnership, they have much to prove. Both people are eager to overcome previous wrongs and live up to their end of an agreement. Old friends, however, are much more complacent. They do not share the same eagerness to cooperate, and they take their relationship for granted.
(2) Our two regions were separated by a strip of unoccupied land, a buffer of sorts. By designating this a demilitarized zone, it greatly increased trust between us during the early phases of our agreement. Without this buffer zone, the alliance would have been on very shaky ground. This allowed me to understand why France, after World War One, imposed such harsh sanctions on Germany. One of the stipulations of the Treaty of Versailles was to designate the Rhineland, a large swath of territory between Germany and France, as a demilitarized zone.
(3) Some countries did not have this geographic convenience. The people playing as ‘India’ and ‘Indonesia’ also sought to create a nonaggression pact or alliance. However, there was no stretch of unoccupied land separating them, their territory was connected. The result? A large buildup of armies on both sides, to act as a deterrent. These armies were costly to maintain and prevented the players from making progress early in the game. Historical connection? In the years leading up to World War One, European countries embraced the concept of ‘balance of power.’ No one country could become stronger than another, lest they might be tempted to attack. Britain’s Naval Defense Act of 1889 called for a two-power standard. This meant that Britain needed to maintain a fleet that was as strong as their two greatest adversaries combined.
(4) In order to continue benefiting from the alliance, we had to offer incentives to each other. At one point in the game I caught myself saying “I will support your fleet into Sardinia next turn if you help me to take Corsica this turn.” Good God! There I was, carving up the world, with no regard for the territories being discussed or who controlled them. I was only motivated by self interest: offer this island to my ally as a reward for his cooperation > preserve the alliance > continue to expand and conquer other nations of people. A disgusting and savage cycle when you step back and think about it. It did not take long for me to see the parallels to Britain offering Japan a colony in China for their service during the First World War, or Genghis Khan’s unslakable thirst for more land to add to his empire.

I have learned many other valuable diplomatic lessons while playing the game, these are just a few. I can see a connection to real world events within almost every turn of the game. It is a very fascinating experience. I believe if all students played Diplomacy while they were in school, the world would be a better place for numerous reasons. The game draws out basic human nature and can teach players how social relationships are strained during high-stakes situations. Furthermore, it can help students to determine the kind of career path that would best suit them. If they receive gratification from the game and are successful, I would advise that they enter business or politics. If they are successful in the game, but do not enjoy competition, deceit, and treachery (I fall into this camp) then they might want to go into the social studies or humanities. Lastly, if they do not enjoy the game and are not good at it, they should consider careers that do not depend upon competitive advantage or require a complex understanding of human psychology.

For more information, here is the website we are using to host our game. The site has a helpful ‘about’ page. http://vdiplomacy.com/

Our school had a three day holiday from April 2nd to 4th. It was in celebration of Qingming Festival. In English, this is loosely translated as “Tomb Sweeping Festival.” The holiday is a time to visit the graves of your relatives or ancestors and pay respects. For many of my students, it was just a well-deserved break! On the mainland it was only reinstated as a national holiday in 2008. As the government and business leaders do not like to slow the economy with unnecessary time off, the weekend becomes part of the workweek. So, we worked for seven days straight, then got three off. Which makes a net loss of one day off compared to a standard work week. Thanks, China.

For Chinese class, I wrote journal entries for each day off. Here are some of my exploits from Monday, April 2nd.

星期一早上我和我的朋友Ben见面。 我们一起坐公共巴士去徐家汇。 我们都饿了所以我们去Element Fresh吃早餐。 我点了牛仔早餐。里面有鸡蛋，培根，烤面包， 和水果。买单后我们去买衣服。 我买了灰色的西装。 然后我们去法租界。 那边有一个西班牙的图书馆。 我借了书和碟片。 然后我们离开图书馆去咖啡馆见我们的朋友Ashli。 喝咖啡后我们一起去上海酿酒厂喝啤酒。

Translation:
On Monday I met up with my friend Ben. We took the bus together to Xujiahui. We were both hungry so we went to Element Fresh to eat breakfast. I ordered the Cowboy breakfast. It consists of eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit. After paying the bill, we went to buy clothes. I bought a grey suit. Then we went to the French Concession where there is a Spanish library. I borrowed books and a DVD. Then, we left the library and went to a cafe to meet our friend Ashli. After drinking coffee we went to Shanghai Brewery to drink beer.

While in Chinese class this evening, my classmate and I were reading a dialogue. We had just finished making sentences with the verb ‘to mop.’ My classmate said she mops her floor everyday whereas I explained how my ayi (maid) mops for me because I am busy.

At the end of the dialog our teacher asked if we had questions and we both said no, eager to move onto another activity. Moments later, I saw some characters I did not recognize in the textbook and asked what they meant…not realizing they were the very words we had been practicing!

Me: What does tuoba mean?

Teacher: 拖把是 to mop. 你不会知道，因为你阿姨拖把地板

tuoba shi to mop. Ni bu hui zhidao yinwei ni ayi tuoba diban.

Tuoba means to mop. You wouldn’t know because your ayi mops the floor [for you].

My face burned. Though I was surprised I understood the whole statement, insults are still as painful in foreign languages.

A few weeks ago I picked up a tutoring gig. Every Monday after school I meet for an hour with a sixth grader to review his history work. As an English language learner, he struggles with vocabulary so that is the focus of our lessons.

During our last meeting, we were talking about the Russian Revolution. Eager to get into the juicer parts of the topic, I barely mentioned the fact that Russia had been a monarchy under Tsar Nicholas II. I immediately began talking about Bolsheviks and communist ideas. Quickly realizing my student needed a stronger foundation, I decided to back up.

“So, before the revolution, what kind of government did Russia have?”

…blank stare

“Who was the leader of Russia?”

“A king?”

“Okay, good. And what kind of government do we call that? A country ruled by a king…?”

“What is government?”

At that point I decided to spend the rest of the class talking about the three basic forms of government and two economic systems which must be understood to study the period: monarchy, republic, one-party state, communism, and capitalism. I was inspired by my student’s exceptional motivation and sharp mind (he is limited only by his language level). As understanding these topics would be a daunting task for anyone to achieve in one hour, I fell back on my ever-so trusty cartoon drawings to illustrate.

Monarchy, republic, and "Mao's idea" (communism)

As I was writing on the board and explaining these things, I had another “China moment.” I did not coin the term, many expats say it to describe a moment when something uniquely “Chinese” occurs, or when someone is frustrated about some aspect of life in China. However, I use this word to describe the out-of-body feeling I sometimes get while living here. Though they occur less than they did when I first arrived, it doesn’t matter how many months go by, I still get them. A China moment is when, for a variety of reasons, you become immediately aware that you are in China, and it is a foreign place. It is easy to get comfortable here, I was quick to adapt. The sound of people loudly slurping their noodles no longer bothers me, I am proficient with chopsticks, I don’t think twice when someone shoves me or when I see a father holding his baby girl over a trash can on the street so she can relieve herself. My Mandarin has improved, I understand the subtle way coworkers ask for favors, I have a more nuanced view of the different ethnic groups that make up the country, I ‘get’ Chinese politics…but I still have China moments.

This one struck me as I was writing on the board, explaining the basic elements of communist philosophy. Seeking to add more depth to my presentation, I pretended to be Lenin and Mao. I found myself speaking in their voice and lamenting about the terrible and corrupt nature of the monarchy and the pitfalls of capitalism…drawing pictures which illustrated the imbalance of wealth and power. I then went on to give, what I felt, was a rousing and inspired argument for how things could be better in a communist system (using 6th grade ESL vocabulary, of course).

“So, we see all the people at the bottom and how much money do they have?”

“One (one ¥ money symbol)”

“So, Lenin and Mao, they want to change this. How can they make it more fair?

“Give everyone the same money.”

“YES! Give everyone the same amount of money and property! …Property…property is like…your bag, your pencil, your books, your house. The things you own. Property.”

“But the guy in the middle (pointing to the middle rung of the socio-economic ladder) he is a boss. He has to work harder. He should get more money.”

“Ahhhhh! You just brought up the argument for capitalism! Why do some people think capitalism is better?”

“Because you can work more and get more money.”

…

Suddenly I was transported out of the room and was looking down on myself like a passing bird watching the strange actions of humans with mild curiosity: A middle-class Caucasian American, steeped in the democratic and participatory tradition, wearing clothes far too flamboyant for America’s rigid views on gender roles, standing in a classroom at an expensive international school in China, passionately explaining to a well-off, highly educated half Japanese half Chinese sixth grader the argument for communism, all for a…comfortable remuneration.

China moment.

Aside from this sudden out of body experience, these pedagogical techniques are all in a day’s work for any Social Studies teacher. Things got more complicated when I found I had to explain the difference between a communist state and the theory of communism. Using China as our example, we then talked about one-party states. I had to explain that the idea of communism has never come to fruition and communist states, like China, all see themselves on a “long march” toward socialist perfection.

Small warning light begins flashing in the back of my brain:

“Your getting into some heavy stuff here, Nick…

…Eh, he’s getting it. Press on!”

Satisfied I had given a balanced summary of these two concepts, I decided to close by offering an alternative to the one-party system of government. I briefly outlined a simple two-party system, the United States (overlooking the technicality that both states have numerous, though practically powerless, parties). After making another quick drawing on the board, I turned to my tutee and asked him if he could spot the difference.

“Well, in this government, there are two parties. They have different ideas. The leader can be from one party or the other.”

“Excellent! With two parties, a leader can be elected from either party.”

A wave of satisfaction washed over me, I had adequately explained the different systems and my student showed understanding.

Then, China moment.

“So, in a two party system, how do you know who is right?”

I smiled. “Well…”

I was tempted to say, liberals. Liberals are always right. But, I hesitated and thought about it for a bit.

“You don’t know. The two groups have different ideas and they come together to fight it out.”

Always hesitant to favor one idea, system, theory, or person over another, I sought a word that would highlight a shortcoming of a two-party system while simultaneously explain how it works. Not wanting to use the word debate, fearing it was too difficult, I said ‘fight’ and made a motion of bumping my fists together.

“Woah! The two parties have a real fight every four years?!”

“Well, no. They debate, do you know the word debate?”

…looks up the word on his computer dictionary

“Oh.” He sounds a little disappointed.

Looking into his impatient eyes, darting back and forth from his notes to the board, looking at his notes which were like a xerox of the words and drawings I had put on the board, I too had a sudden feeling of disappointment. I suddenly felt that, as soon as he left the room, this information would slip from his mind. He wanted the one sentence definition for communism that would fit neatly on one of the little note cards he keeps on a plastic ring. Instead, I assaulted his mind with a sweeping lesson on government and philosophy. On his test there will be one blank, long enough for a sentence, where he will need to define one-party state. Did I just confuse him? Am I just making his life, already crammed to the brim with work, more difficult?

After leaving the lesson, I starting thinking about the kinds of government I had just been talking about. A new feeling of disappointment came over me. Not because my student displayed misunderstanding or implied he disagreed with something. In fact, I always have a sense of relief when my students disagree with me. I have no desire to impart my personal views on students, whether it is regarding political systems or the role of women in history.

What disappoints me is that, when presented with the same set of information, two people come to different conclusions. It is a disappointment mixed with genuine disbelief, I wonder how they could have arrived at a different result. This, I imagine, is the same feeling that leaders of every state and empire since the beginning of civilization have felt. The feeling that, they are aware of the best path and must guide others along who do not fully understand. Emperor Qianlong with his closed door policy, Mao with his Cultural Revolution, Bush with his War on Terror, Obama with his medical plan.

There then lies a paradox for people as leaders and me, as a teacher. I believe my own conclusion to be true, but I want my students to arrive at their own conclusion. When they arrive at one different than mine, I cannot help but have strong mixed emotions. I am happy that they have taken a stand of their own, but I am saddened that they do not share my ‘logic.’

Last year, after a unit on World War One, I asked students to pretend they were textbook authors and write a journal entry explaining how much of the text they would devote to women in the war. About half the class argued they would add little to nothing to the paltry two paragraphs the book included on women. On one hand I was thrilled, it was exhilarating to see students successfully arguing their unique view and backing it up with logic and facts. On the other hand, I was greatly saddened that they did not view the world the same way as me. This year, I gave my current class the same prompt. For whatever reason they unanimously said they would add more information about women. Again, mixed feelings. I had a slight sense of relief that they share my mind, but I worried they do not feel comfortable sharing their ‘true’ feelings and I was disappointed because I felt many had just echoed some statements I made in class.

At times, when I see these malleable youth grappling with ideas such as gender roles, race, and political participation I just want to socialize the hell out of them: just tell them what I believe to be right. Play my small part in making the world a better place, in my eyes. Yet in the same moment, I believe I should follow a system of Socratic education. Where I sit back, in my toga, and watch as my students take a stand and debate an issue with one another, individual arguments unfolding on their own as I simply guide them along with questions like “why do you think that?”

“I know one thing, that I know nothing.” -Plato

Rule by divine right, ethnicity versus race, and one-party states...all in a day's work

At first glance, all of my students appear “Asian” in the traditional sense of the term. At the start of each year, I pass out a survey to learn more about their background and expectations for the class. I am always amazed to read about the unique situations they each grew up in. Born in one country, grew up in another, then came to study in a third. I thought I was having trouble grappling with my identity as a traveler and expatriate, but these generations of international students are really pushing the boundaries, making me think hard about national identity and ethnicity.

Here are some of the places my students are from:

Australia
Canada
China (mainland)
Dubai
Hong Kong
Japan
Malaysia
Singapore
South Korea
Sweden
Taiwan
Thailand
United States

Landing at Pudong International airport, I had mixed feelings about being back in Shanghai. The massive airport was strangely quiet for a Wednesday afternoon, this only contributed to my feelings of loneliness. The bus ride to my school brought back some familiar sights. The air was very clear and I could see straight across the city. I found myself feeling comforted by sights that would otherwise be disturbing: forests of soviet-style housing developments, a column of greasy smoke rising from a trash fire, propaganda banners hung over old housing projects heralding in a new era of development, the hideous tiled facades of all the buildings. Having spent a year here, there is something familiar about this place.  I missed my friends, the nightlife, the serenity of the lush campus, and my first bites of street food were heavenly. On the other hand, I am so far removed from family and friends. The other day I looked at pictures of me playing with my niece back in the US and I felt really sad. I will not get to see her grow up.

When I got back to my room, I found it just as I had left it. George, the door guard, had done a good job of making sure the AC stayed on so my room would not be overtaken by mold. Though, all my fish were dead along with my palm tree. He still deserved the American cigarettes and Centrum vitamins I bought him. However, he informed me that in China, menthol cigarettes are for girls. Oops.

I have decided to make a few lifestyle changes this year. I want a more healthy lifestyle so I am buying organic produce and training for the Shanghai half marathon. The ultimate goal is to be prepared for the Great Wall Marathon which falls later in the year.

Last weekend I walked to a nearby university to check out a copy shop that I had been told about. The area around the school has tons of closet-sized businesses that specialize in copying everything from single sheets of paper and resumes, to large tomes.

Arguments for the protection of intellectual property are obvious. However, I can say the lack of copyright law enforcement in China is a god-send to educators. If you are looking for video clips for class, there are a number of sites that you can watch and download from. My favorite is “tudou,” it means potato in Chinese. I think they call it that because potatoes are very plentiful and easy to find. Looking for some contemporary music to flesh out your unit on the Vietnam War? You can go to a site and listen to full songs streaming, then download them instantly without paying or signing up for anything. Surely this must be another Chinese knock-off copying the format of an American website…the name of the page? Google Music!

Ah, just what I was looking for, Fortunate Son...karaoke version!

If you want a full-length documentary and you can’t find it online, you can visit a movie shop. It may take some patience to leaf through case after case of movies in dust jackets (like how records used to be sold), but you can buy a movie for as little as 3 kuai, or 46 cents. I never paid more than 9 kuai, which is $1.39!

Anyway, last weekend I made a discovery that would cause foreign publishers’ heads to explode. I tracked down this little copy shop my Chinese teacher had told me about. It is the size of a large bathroom, has a dirt floor and contains: one lamp hanging from a wire, one chair, a mini television, a computer, and two copy machines. I showed the shop owner my book, a volume of primary sources over 500 pages long. After a short discussion, she agreed to copy and bind it for 26 kuai, or $4.01! That is still cheaper that the average amount of late fees I pay on borrowed books in the states! ;)

It only took the shop owner one hour to copy and bind the whole book. While I was waiting, I walked around campus. I popped into the dorm for international students and happened upon a fish pond. It was raining lightly, no one was around. The small park was quiet and peaceful. I sat on a bench under an overhang and watched the rain drops hit the water. The fish thought it was insects or food, so they would periodically strike at the surface. I was moved to write my first poem in Chinese…

在大学我看小湖，

听鸟唱歌。

这个池塘好多鱼。

它们跳因为下雨。

Translated, it reads:

At the university I see a small lake,
I hear the birds singing.
This pond has many fish.
They jump because it rains.

Unfortunately, when translated to English, the rhymes are lost. It was very exhilarating to write, though. When I was finished I was amazed that I knew enough characters to rhyme. Living in a foreign country, you do not often realize how your language skills are developing. Progress is often way too slow, and failed interactions, confusion, and frustration are much more frequent experiences.

The first two characters mean "volcano" (fire, mountain) I was so excited, I took a picture!

However, every now and then, you will surprise yourself. A lengthy conversation with a cab driver, being able to read a restaurant sign, or understanding a snippet of conversation. These fleeting moments are how a language learner must fuel their desire to continue studying.

Note the bull horn for cheer-coordination

A few weeks ago, I went to my first Shanghai Shenhua football match. Being my first ever professional sporting event, and since I had not been to a game since university, I was really excited. However the Chinese Super League is not something many people get excited over. Last year it was found that corruption was rampant amongst players and officials. It was said referees could be bought for a few hundred USD and entire teams for a few thousand. Many of my Chinese friends wondered out loud why I would even bother to go, and most of them warned me not to waste my time. Here is a typical response from one friend who wrote in an email:

So you like foodball?But most of chinese don’t like chinese football, they get high salary,but their skill never improved.We really feel shamed.

Warnings aside, I went. It turned out to be a lot of fun. Shenhua trounced the Chengdu Blades with a final score of 4-1. We were in the supporters section, the Blue Devils they are called. My favorite cheer was sung to the tune of “La Marseillaise,” because I could hum along as everyone else sang in Mandarin. It was a lot of fun to take part in the cheers and celebrate with the fans. It was a rare opportunity to feel like I was part of Shanghai, like a local.

You can see the "Blue Boys" situated behind the opposing goal.

Opposite our supporter section was the other fan group, the Blue Boys. As the story goes, Shanghai used to have two football teams. Shanghai United F.C. was the other team that used to be in the city, and there was a fierce rivalry between them and Shenhua. However, in 2007  Shanghai Shenhua and Shanghai United F.C. were merged into one team, and with them the supporters. The two groups support the same team, but do not get along or mingle with each other before the game. The two groups compete throughout the game to have the largest, most organized cheer. Though, I did notice that they participated in stadium-circling “wave” when it was their turn.

The most interesting observation I made actually came at the end of the game. By this time Sven and I were quite rowdy, having been worked up by all the goals our team had scored. After the final buzzer, the team came over to thank us, and then people began filing out of the stadium.

But that was just it, they quietly filed out. Some of them taking off their Shenhua jersey to reveal formal work clothes underneath. The excitement, energy, and wild abandon everyone had expressed during the game suddenly turned off. Standing in the passage way outside the seating area, you might think you were leaving an opera instead of a football match.

The loud cheering and wild celebrating lasted exactly 90 minutes.

Sven and I, still reveling in the glory of our win, kept up the cheers. Rather, we copied the tune of the cheers and added our own English lyrics. However, the game was over. We were no longer part of the fan group, we had gone back to our role as foreigners. Our singing was no longer team spirit, but spectacle. Other fans clapped and cheered as we walked by, but people did not join in. Therefore, we gravitated to the only other foreigners left in the crowd, a half dozen Turks who had formed a circle just outside the stadium and were dancing in celebration.  We went down and, after buying a celebratory drink, joined in the revelry. For the Chinese, this was perhaps more interesting than the game itself, as there were hundreds of them stopped on the stadium steps, mid decent, or packed around the dancing foreigners, with their cell phone cameras trained on the strange ritual taking place before them.

Aside from the game, the evening marked another milestone for me. It was the first night I ate one of the mysterious “meats on a stick” from the Japanese convenience store chain, Family Mart. Every store has a large metal vat next to the register. It is divided into sections, each containing chunks of processed meat in various un-natural shapes. They are slowly stewing in a broth made of wulong tea and various spices. Foreign teachers joke about taking the “Kedi Challenge” (Kedi is the name of a near-identical chain store). This challenge involves going into one of the stores after a long night of partying and having your friend choose a mystery meat for you, which you must consume or you lose.

Shanghai! Shenhua!

So Sven bought two chunks of processed pork (?) and the attendant was kind (?) enough to throw in a chunk of tofu. I ate both tofu and pork. The consistency was soft, with a slight rubbery snap as you bit into them. They both tasted like savory hot dogs. I live on.