Choosing Culture Over Politics

"I feel that everyone who disagreed with what the government did should support their dissent with action--should turn their back on China in whatever way they can."

Such were the words of a professor I greatly respect, two days prior to my departure for Beijing. He was, at my request, expressing his opinion on continuing academic exchange with China in light of the events of June '89.

He conceded that the most important thing was for each individual who cared about China to make his or her own decision about how to react; however, he also believed that if, as a student, one came to the conclusion that the government's actions were wrong, one should choose not to study in China.

"The Chinese government must recognize that it committed a moral wrong," he said. The implication was that it was largely up to "us"--business exceutives, politicians and students alike--to make them realize this.

Chinese classes are incredible; we take two hours of grammar, two hours of writing and two hours of conversation every day. But here, all that work doesn't feel academic at all, because we use it every day. It's like taking an ongoing course on survival while you are out camping in the woods....

We meet people all the time. I went to a noodle place by myself today, and sat down alone at a table. Within five minutes I was talking with a young couple across from me, and by the time I left they had made me promise I would call so we could meet for lunch again. They want me to help them with their English and they'll help me with Chinese. I've only spent time with one Chinese student, but hopefully that will change as time goes on.

I was devastated on June 4, and not just because I had been planning to leave on June 6 for a summer semester at Peking University.

What was most upsetting to me was the realization that the country in whose history, literature, philosophy and landscape I had invested so much time and energy and interest--that this country was not the beautiful place I had wanted to believe it was. I was horrified, along with most of the world, at the actions of the Chinese government.

When it came time to make the decision whether or not to go in the fall, I questioned the moral and political repercussions of my going to Beijing.

The conclusion I came to was that my going had no political or moral repercussions. I was going to experience China's culture and hopefully come to a better understanding of it. My going was not an act of support of the current Communist regime, any more than my not going would have been an act of protest against it.

I keep waiting for culture shock to hit, for me to become totally frustrated with my Chinese or get completely sick of everything--something. But it hasn't happened yet....

I can hop on the train whenever I want and go all over the country--although things are really far apart. I'm writing you from the middle of this dirt-pit known as Dakong. It is the home of some amazing 1560-year-old Buddhist caves which hold huge three-story-high Buddhas. Truly breathtaking. The monuments here are built on such a grand scale.

I believed then, as I do now, that a distinction must be made between academic and/or cultural forms of exchange and politics if the integrity of academic pursuits is to be maintained. We should not view academic exchange as a tool for politics, but rather as a force divorced from political dynamics that can have only positive effects on international relations.

My bicycle is my best friend--I ride it everywhere. I tied a red ribbon to the handlebars so that it wouldn't get lost among the rows and rows of black bikes in the streets every day. Last week we rode into Tiananmen Square. You cannot imagine a space this big, and full of people. It must have been an incredible sight last May.

Eliza Rosenbluth '91 is studying at the University of Beijing this semester. The above piece is a mixture of an editorial piece she wrote and excerpts (in italics) about her experiences taken from her letters.