By ROBERT HAMBLIN
Professor Changlei Li of Weifang City University in the People's Republic of China spent all of last year at Southeast Missouri State University using the Brodsky Collection and other resources of the Center for Faulkner Studies to complete his doctoral dissertation on William Faulkner. I was privileged to direct his research and critique his dissertation.
When he left Cape Girardeau in February to return home, knowing that I had received an invitation to teach at Senshu University in Tokyo in April and May, Changlei said, "If you're going to Japan, you must also visit China as my guest."
Thus it was that Kaye and I found ourselves spending eight days in China before traveling on to my teaching assignment in Tokyo. Changlei had arranged for me to deliver lectures on Faulkner and American literature at three Chinese universities -- Weifang City University, Shandong University in Jinan and Qingdao University -- all located in Shandong Province, an agricultural region that is the most populous and prosperous province in China.
This was our first trip to China, and we were amazed at what we found. We saw both the old China and the new. Throughout Shandong Province we observed farmers plowing their fields with oxen. Because each farm family typically is allocated no more than one acre to cultivate, every foot of ground must be used. The principal crops are wheat and vegetables, but the farmers also plant plane trees (our sycamores), fast-growing trees that can be sold as lumber for construction. By American standards it is a small and primitive type of farming, but efficient and productive. Weifang City is the vegetable capital of China.
In Jinan, a drab, congested, polluted city of 10 million inhabitants, we saw dirty streets crowded with pedestrians, bicycles, autos, buses and taxis. There are few stoplights, and double yellow lines mean absolutely nothing. So drivers weave in and out of traffic on both sides of the street. Taxi drivers in Jinan appear to have a death wish, and riders are advised to sit in the back seat.
By contrast, Qingdao, a city with a population of 7 million, is a thriving, modern, seaside city that reminds one of San Diego. Wide boulevards and expressways, high-rise business and apartment complexes, quality hotels and restaurants, a large tourist trade -- all of these exhibit a progressive city that refutes the stereotypical American notion of life in China. China's overall economy is growing at a double-digit rate, and this growth is evident everywhere in Qingdao. We knew that for sure when we saw a monk at the Taoist monastery and temple reach under his robe and pull out a cellular phone.
What we found most impressive about China, however, is its people. They are friendly and courteous, treating guests to huge meals and a genuine hospitality that rivals that of the American South.
They are also very curious about the Americans they find in their midst. In Qufu, Confucius' hometown, a dozen men and women stopped to listen to our conversation with our guide. When we waved at them and spoke, they smiled broadly and returned our "Hello."
Also at Qufu, a beautiful little girl, no more than 5 or 6 years old, asked in broken English to have her picture made with us. We hugged her and her two brothers to our side while their father snapped the picture, and then we snapped a photo of their family.
In Weifang City, which annually hosts a kite festival, we strolled through the city park, watching children and their parents filling the sky with huge, colorful birds and dragons. In a 400-year-old village near Weifang City that has been preserved as a national landmark, we met an artist whose family had practiced the art of woodprinting for several generations. Upon being told that we owned a book of his prints -- a gift from Changlei -- he embraced us and invited us to use the hand-held press to produce one of the gloriously colored prints.
At a natural springs park in Jinan a proud grandmother had her baby granddaughter say "Nana" for Kaye and blow her a kiss -- demonstrating that grandmothers communicate in a universal language quite independent of any national or local dialect.
China is a great bear waking from hibernation -- and ravenously hungry for all things American, even the lectures of a Faulkner scholar. In Weifang City, Li Qingzhi, the party secretary (mayor), conferred with us about possible exchanges with American cities and universities. In Jinan, Professor Guo Jide, the foremost Chinese authority on the plays of Eugene O'Neill and Arthur Miller, extended a welcome for any Southeast Missouri faculty member to teach for a semester or year at Shandong University. In Qingdao, Professor Kong Qinghua, a 73rd generation descendant of Confucius, begged us to send him teachers and expressed a desire to visit our Faulkner Center.
Many of the students we met hope to visit and study in the United States. They watched the Bush-Kerry presidential debates, follow the NBA, and want to know how our laws are passed and what American college students do for recreation. On television we watched an interview with a Chinese American who moved his failed Silicon Valley telecommunications company to China. He is now wealthy, his company a thriving success.
While all of this is happening in China, the United States continues to look primarily to Europe for its business, political and cultural ties. We teach French, Spanish and German in our schools -- but not Chinese (or Japanese). That neglect is a huge mistake. Wal-Mart, which is opening 200 new stores in China within the next year, knows better. So, of course, do McDonald's and Coca-Cola.
One hears continually in China that the country is 50 years behind the United States. But it is quite clear to even a casual visitor that it's not going to take the Chinese 50 years to catch up.
Too soon, our visit to China was over. We exchanged tearful goodbyes with Changlei and boarded the plane for Tokyo. But we left China with a newfound appreciation of its land, its history, its culture and its people. And a heightened awareness that China must be a significant part of our American future.
Robert Hamblin is the director of the Center for Faulkner Studies and professor of English at Southeast Missouri State University.
Connect with the Southeast Missourian Newsroom:
For corrections to this story or other insights for the editor, click here. To submit a letter to the editor, click here. To learn about the Southeast Missourian’s AI Policy, click here.