Fred Hoyt – Page 38 – Fred Hoyt's Travels

With the May Term Class in 97

Reminiscences 2025

Like riding an on-off bus, I jumped on the May Term bus in Beijing, joining familiar faces in familiar places–China and South East Asia, and getting off the bus and joining David for further exploration of SE Asia.

The trip might have resulted in the most IWU faculty in Asia at one time, since the trip leaders were Jerry Olson, Dave Willis, and Zhen-hu Jin. And me. It was, however, done in reverse from the usual Asia trip, which duplicated many traditional journeys, where you wound up eventually in Beijing with an audience with the Emperor. This trip started in Beijing and eventually ended in SE Asia.

The Forbidden City. The Great Wall. Arthur Anderson (Willis and Olson were, after all, accountants). A few memories: the countdown clock in Tiananmen Square, ticking down on the “handover” of Hong Kong; Amber Kujath and others catching me with my pants (legs) down on the Great Wall. The zip offs, discovered initially at Banana Republic and used at Philmont in 1987 have become stock in trade for me. Shorts when needed, long pants when not.

Given my interest in history (my dissertation, after all, was on Americans in China and US foreign policy in the 20s and 30s), the Legation Quarter always fascinated me. It was, in a sense, another Forbidden City in the early 20th century, a refuge from the turmoil of China (and the attacks during the Boxer uprising). Many of the buildings remain, including the entrance to the old Japanese Legation. Several trips I had guides take us through the old area to get a sense of what life had been like; today, the embassies are housed in a new area in more modern facilities–but still closely guarded.

Hong Kong. Always a welcome place to eat, shop, and sightsee. On this trip, I arranged a visit to City University of Hong Kong, which my friend Eleanor hosted. And of course, the Peak is a visual treat.

From there, it was on to Bangkok. And the usual glitter of the Palace grounds and area. There was also the trip to the former capital, Ayudhya, the ruins a reminder that similar religions did not make the Siamese and Thais best friends. The destruction caused Thais to move the capital to Bangkok.

This was my time to get off the bus, and with David, get to KL and Indonesia.

With the Manchus

Reminiscences 2025

I had time between the end of my Korea ventures and the arrival of the IWU May Term trip that I planned to join. What better way to spend it than to travel to Manchuria, once part of Korea (according to my Korean friends), and given to China as a reward for helping the Koreans fight off the Japanese centuries ago.

Besides, Harbin fascinated me, as the center of Russia interest and emigres following the Revolution. Located at the junction of the Chinese Eastern Railroad (which cut straight through Manchuria to Vladivostok, shaving miles off following the Amur–I prefer Black Dragon River, the Chinese name–which is the border) and what had been the South Manchurian Railroad, straight to Port Arthur and the rest of China.

I landed in Harbin, ready to stay at the somewhat seedy old colonial hotel, the Modern. I realized how seedy it was when a lady of the day (and probably night) approached me. “You speak English,” she asked? “Yes.” ” I want to learn English, can I come to your room? Where are you staying?” I told her the Modern, at which point she pouted, and told me that when I stayed at a good hotel…..I wonder if she ever learned English.

Harbin had a certain Russian charm; though the emigres who flocked there in the 20s and 30s are long gone, some buildings remain to mark the past; Russian being perhaps the most important and lasting. A small town ballooned up by its prominence as the headquarters of the Chinese Eastern and South Manchurian Railroads, and its proximity to Russia. At one time there were an estimated 400,000 Russians in Harbin. Japanese occupation followed. Then Soviet conquest and a year under Soviet rule (which meant many white Russians were deported or fled elsewhere). What’s left was the old train station, a magnificent church (now restored from its use as a stable during the Cultural Revolution), the Sungari waterfront, and a street full of buildings from another era.

I learned early traveling in China to find someone going where you were going, too. Since most announcements are unintelligible, it helped to stay near a person who had better command of Chinese. That may be how I managed to get from Harbin to Shenyang, which used to be Mukden in the old days. I had a long day there, which was a holiday.

Shenyang was a treat, with a “Forbidden City” on a human scale. Apparently, the Manchu’s practiced before 1644 what it would be like to rule China, and built a Manchu-type palace area that had some adaptations. It was exciting to find a docent who could understand my Chinese as we bantered about the best looking Phoenix (empress). The tombs of the first Manchu emperors were here, rather than in Beijing, and I believe I also saw the headquarters of Zhang Tsuo-lin, the long-time warlord of Manchuria.

A crisis erupted when I realized that I was supposed to pick up tickets to get to Beijing–but the agency was closed for the holiday. When I went to the train station, I somehow negotiated the purchase of a hard sleeper ticket to Beijing, where I would join my IWU colleagues. Getting on the train, I realized I had an evening booked on the top bunk (of 3) in a compartment where I was the only English speaker. When I remembered that I had sought “adventure,” I realized one should be careful about what one asks.

When I woke up again, I was in Beijing, ready to rejoin more familiar faces in more familiar places. But no longer an Imperial Manchu.

Not Gloomy in Gumi

Reminiscences 2025

The second part of my sabbatical was conceived as an opportunity to work in China (the better to tell my international business classes about being an expatriate). I talked with my contacts at Motorola about the possibility or working in Beijing or Tianjin and had some positive feedback, which would combine a job with some time to travel. That fell when the Asian financial crisis erupted.

Looking for a way to spend time in Asia, I learned that the local Rotary was sending four non-Rotarians in an exchange with a chapter in Korea. I had some connection with the interviewers in Champaign, and wound up being selected. That meant nearly a month in Korea, staying with Rotarians, mostly in their homes, in an area based in Gumi. That meant little time in Seoul and more time in smaller towns, including Kyongju, Taegu, and Andong.

There were four non-Rotarians led by a Rotarian who was a professor at Eastern Illinois. Three others were from Champaign-Urbana, Paul Adams and Jen-Jen. Paul was returning “home.” He was a Korean-American product of the Korean War (American father, Korean mother) who had been adopted by the Adams family. The Adams were among the first missionaries to arrive in Korea (Methodists, who divided the country with the Presbyterians, I believe). His grandfather had founded one of the universities in Taegu, so he was something of a celebrity on our trip. He was also a skilled cook, and one night when we had been left alone, introduced me to chapchae (sweet potato noodles) that have become one of my favorite Korean dishes.

We were mostly hosted by Rotarians, however, living in their apartments, and like them, sleeping on a heated floor that resembled the homes they had in the countryside, which had fireplaces and in effect chimneys under the floor. We stayed one holiday weekend in a farmhouse (two cows in the garage) when our host returned to his family homestead. Grampa got up in the night to restart the fire. As was true in Korea, young people had fled to Seoul and there was no longer a school in the area.

What else do I remember from that trip over 20 years ago? Confucius was still alive in this country in several senses. We were there in May, and the national exams were coming up that would essential determine their future. Korea has one of the highest expenditures for additional education, and several of our host’s children begged off playing or conversing to study.

The lesson was reinforced when we went to a university in Andong, a second-tier school. The students complained that they were unable to get jobs with the chaebols, who interviewed only students from tier one schools.

We got a great introduction to Korean nationalism. We were in an area that had been invaded by Japan in ancient days. There were reminders of those battles and several shrines, including a temple that was featured on one of the Korean bills. The results of 40 years of Japanese occupation were still evident in our hosts–the lingering taste of being treated as inferiors.

One other sign of national pride. We went to visit with the first Ford dealer in Seoul, but on the streets, the cars were Hyundai or Kia or Daewoo. Nary a Toyota. I was so impressed with the cars that I bought and proudly drove a Hyundai wagon.

It is always fun for me to spend time in Kyongju, which was also in our district. The remaining mounds and ruins such as the observatory are reminders of the Silla Kingdom and the inheritance of many Chinese cultural features from the Tang dynasty, subsequently passed on to their Japanese neighbors. How powerful was Chinese culture: Confucius, Buddhism, imperial splendor, language–borrowed and transformed, but still apparent.

We were an excuse to entertain, which meant eat, drink, and sing karaoke. Our song was “Stand By Me,” and we got passable at it, easily enough with the repetition. As for drinking, soju is powerful, but our hosts must have been in practice. I never saw so much booze consumed–and yet people were able to function the next day. We were a good excuse for kalbi and pulgogi every day, with the ubiquitous sides including kimchee. Sometimes we ate sitting on the floor, Korean style, and I bet I still have kimchi stains on my pants as a result.

A cell phone was not only a necessity, but a fashion item, colored to go with apparel. No wonder I learned to say, “Anyang haseo.” I still remember one fellow talking on two cellphones at the same time. Now that’s ambidextrous.

It was also cherry blossom time, and the industrial giant that is Gumi was cloaked in white, camouflaged and gracefully hidden. I would not recognize it a few years later when the cherry trees were barren. But for a few weeks, it was bathed in beauty.

January 1997

Reminiscences 2024

Carolyn could easily have rented my room in spring 1997, when I took my only sabbatical from IWU. My ambition was to use it to learn about working and living abroad; I had lined up an internship with Motorola, but the impending Asian Financial Crisis put paid to that idea. Instead, I wrote a paper for a conference that would take me to Hyderabad, and introduce me to South Asia, allowing me to add to my expertise on the Far East.

Actually, Carolyn could have rented the whole house in January 1997, because she and David accompanied me on the journey. Before we sent Carolyn back (she didn’t have a sabbatical!), we had explored Bombay (Mumbai), Hyderabad (with the Golconda and the Char Minar), Delhi (where we were hosted by the family of one of my students), and with their help, patched together Jaipur (elephants and pink city), Agra (transfixed by the Taj Mahal), Fatehpur Sikri (Akbar’s abortive capital), and for good measure, a short trip to Benares and the holy city of Hinduism, to balance the Moghul/British architecture elsewhere. We even got to stay in a

palace (remnant of the India before independence, when it was partly British, partly princely states).

What an introduction to South Asia, and its contrasts. Incredible food, history, color–but in sight of the most expensive real estate in the world (the Malabar coast, I’m told), the slum of slumdog millionaire.

Fascinated, I knew I’d have to come back sometime; after all, every page in the Lonely Planet screamed, “Visit me!” And I knew I’d have to bring my students to see this part of what was rapidly becoming the Asian Economic Miracle. And some of you reading this, for better or worse, had that chance.

my sabbatical activities in 1997

Let me dwell on the SE Asian parts, which sort of blend together.

As we were taking the train from Bangkok that would ultimately leave us in Singapore (thence home via Hong Kong), I was reading Megatrends Asia, a book touting the Asian Economic Miracle we were seeing on our trip. Bangkok was a city of cranes, and Malaysia, with its mix of Bumiputra (Malay) and Chinese was constructing an incredible infrastructure (and building roads in India).

As I think I mentioned, expats we met encouraged us to visit Pulau Penang; we did, and I fell in love with the old colonial architecture. It was, I thought, the Hong Kong I might have seen before the Viet Nam war changed Asia. I would later learn its business friendly areas would attract major manufacturing, including the Dell factory I would later visit with students.

We whisked through Kuala Lumpur, the then capital, a mix of Indo-Asian buildings, but a relatively modern city (founded in a mining boom late 19th century) with a distinctly Muslim flavor. Malacca lived up to its billing with its multicultural history of Portuguese, Dutch (better museum on the Dutch East India Company than I found in Amsterdam), and British past (love the monuments to Victoria’s Jubilee), and thence to Singapore, the miracle nanny state, ruled by Lee Kwan Yu since its independence in the 60s, a respite from the chaos of Asia.

On the second trip, which was part of my three months in Asia, following the Rotary stay in Korea and joining the IWU May Term trip, David and I spun off and went back to SE Asia. We spent a little more time reconnoitering, staying in KL in a bungalow hotel out of the time of the Raj. The bar was full by noon. We maybe also spent a few days in Chiang Mai (reacquainted via Japanese TV with Sibelius’ 5th symphony)

The treat on that May/June trip was a continuation to Indonesia, where we spent some time with the Scout organization. We went to one of their camps on Friday; noon prayers meant they deposited us until they were done. They saw to it we went to Jogjakarta, where we saw two of the great ruins of antiquity: Borobudur (reconstructed Buddhist temple, regaled by a local guitarist’s rendition of “Country Roads”) and Prambanan (a Hindu temple); ironically, Indonesia, the fourth largest country is predominantly Muslim, but we did see the Sultan’s palace.

Then there was Bali, truly a gem. My disappointment was my recognition that the equator means 12 hours of daylight, not the long tropical sunsets I hoped for. A ride through the Hindu villages (the Muslim conquest didn’t go much beyond Java) pointed out why the anti-Dutch war for independence spared the island (and the subsequent bombings brought home that the terror was real).

As if we hadn’t seen enough, we stopped in Manila, with another stop to visit with Scouts. In some ways, Manila was the most Americanized place we went, not a surprise given the half century of American possession of the islands. The Scout uniforms resembled mine from the 50s, and I could find baseball scores in the paper, which was quite unusual.

I knew I’d be back to many of these areas in the subsequent decade, and I’d bring students to share the amazing sights, sounds, foods, and business energy I’d encountered.

An introduction to Travels with David

Reminiscences 2024

symbol of Hyderabad: the Char Minar (five minarets)

My international travels with David began with my sabbatical in the spring of 1997. I had hoped to expand my knowledge of international business by working with Motorola in Beijing. I approached that company the year before, and tentatively discussed two months’ work, then a stipend to travel around the country. The Asian financial crisis put paid to that dream.

The rethink centered on a conference in Hyderabad. Non-resident Indians frequently set up conferences so they could return home during breaks. The conference was on global organizations, and I submitted a paper on “The United Nations in Short Pants,” a discussion of International Scouting. A discussion with one of my students led to an invitation to stay with his family in New Delhi; “how can you be an Asianist without knowing anything about India,” he questioned.

I would take my family with me to India, and Carolyn agreed that if I traveled afterwards with David, I could stay on in the East.

Thus began our first visit to India.

After the conference, we based other Indian excursions out of the Malhotra’s (former student) who lived in a gated community in Delhi, riding the train to the Taj Mahal and Agra and Jaipur, riding elephants, before spending a day on

the Ganges at Benares. Mr. Malhotra questioned that only one day at Benares. I told Jaghi that we had seen Muslim India (the Taj and the Red Fort), and British India (the Cantonment and streets of Delhi, the Gateway to India, and Luytens’ imposing buildings in Delhi). When young Mr. Malhotra graduated IWU, the family stayed at our house in Bloomington. They told Carolyn we had a lovely house but needed servants; they had six plus a cook and a driver. She has often reminded me of her agreement.

We sent Carolyn home from India. David and I continued on to Bangkok where we boarded a train for my introduction to Malaysia, with stays at Penang (which looked, I thought, like Hong Kong had in the 50s), and a now-defunct bungalow-hotel in Malacca that, with its expats at the bar by noon, could have been a setting for an early 20th century novel.

Thence to Singapore, Hong Kong and home.

It was the first of several memorable trips to East and South Asia with David.

In 1998, David accompanied me to the Asia Pacific Region Scout meeting. I talked my way into the US Delegation, stayed at the building HK Scouts built as combination headquarters, hotel, and office building. Dealing with multiple religions was a really different “religious” service, truly non denominational. The other highlight was a “potluck”, one of the best meals I’ve had at a Scout event. No mac and cheese

or hot dogs. And since we were all adults, we could behave like adults. That is, there were adult beverages. I was in a group that included the head of Australian Scouting (a volunteer), Singapore, etc. Best fraternity party since 1962. Memories….then we left for Bangkok, Chiang Mai (I discovered Sibelius on a Japanese Symphony broadcast) and thence to Laos. That part of the trip is detailed elsewhere.

He was to join me on other trips.

Reflections on that trip two years later

Letter to Texas A&M two years later

In retrospect, there were several benefits from the trip. One comes from the opportunity to meet with other faculty–not just from other colleges, but also from other disciplines–and from a range of schools. They ranged, too, from first time visitors to Asia to moderately experienced visitors to Asia. At every site visit–and there were three to four a day–our colleagues brought a variety of perspectives and diversity of questions to the table, insights not always readily apparent to a customer-focused marketer, or an income statement based accountant. Second, perhaps the strongest feature of the trip were the site visits, arranged through the guanxi of our hosts. Using business and alumni contacts, Professors Julian Gaspar and Lane Kelley got us into places that read like a who’s who of Asian business. In Tokyo, the embassy and Honda; in Seoul, the chaebols–Samsung, Daewoo, Hyundai, and Hanwha; in Hong Kong, Motorola; IBM in Shenzhen; and the stock exchange and Nike in Bangkok. A third was the exposure to cultural sites. Some of that was built into the trip, such as a Kabuki dinner in Tokyo, and similar cultural experiences in Seoul, where the farmers’ dance reminds me of United Airlines and Korea (the power of advertising), and Bangkok; and we visited palaces in Seoul and ruins in Thailand.

In short, the FDIB trip had all the characteristics of a trip I would have designed, but lacked the contacts to do so–full days meeting real business people, with business cards and an address for further contacts, a blend of the cultural and business, a range of countries, overall, an excellent introduction to the varieties of Asian businesses and civilizations. It had major curricular outcomes: Partly with the aid of contacts I made on the trip, I taught an Asian/Pacific business course at Illinois Wesleyan; we also used the FDIB contacts for our Asian business trip; and finally, I have continued to draw on the expertise (particularly yours) I encountered on the trip.

Reflections on my first FDIB trip

FDIB–OR HOW WE SPENT PART OF OUR SUMMER VACATION IN ASIA

Frederick B. Hoyt, Illinois Wesleyan University
Gerald Olson, Illinois Wesleyan University

Some of my favorite memories of elementary school occurred annually after Labor Day, when an unprepared teacher would try to ease us back into school by asking us what we had done during our summer vacation. It was at that point that nostalgia and memories grew, replacing reality and expectations.

Thus, it is with warm feelings (at least on my part) that we share with you our experiences with the Faculty Development in International Business trip we took last May and June to Asia. Conducted jointly–and there’s a lesson in that–by Texas A & M with the University of Hawaii, the trip offered 20 faculty a smorgasbord of experiences in five countries–Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, Shenzhen in the People’s Republic of China, and Thailand. Notice that these countries span the spectrum from mature industrial power (Japan) to up and coming wannabes.

Faculty

One of the benefits of a trip of this nature comes from the opportunity to meet with other faculty–not just from other colleges, but also from other disciplines–and from a range of schools. Believe me, you really get to know them in the course of two weeks where they can be your companions–sometimes your only other English-speakers–for 12-16 hours a day.

They ranged, too, from first time visitors to Asia to moderately experienced visitors to Asia. Professor Olson and I fell into the latter range, having been on, or led student trips. My area is marketing, but I have had a long-standing love affair with anything Chinese; I had not, however, been to Tokyo or Bangkok, nor done much in a business sense in Seoul (though I’d been there). Hence, one of my motivators in going on the trip was to broaden my knowledge of Asia beyond East Asia, and to deepen my understanding of business there. [Jer–your confessional spot]

At every site visit–and there were three to four a day–our colleagues brought a variety of perspectives and diversity of questions to the table, insights not always readily apparent to a customer-focused marketer. There were also the long rides (no other adjective applies to transportation in Asia, whether it was a bus ride in Bangkok or an international flight across the Pacific), or meals, or free time, where conversation ranged from common concerns and complaints, to what did you think about what we saw today, to some discussions about possible joint ventures. Out of one such discussion came this paper, and several panels.

Site Visits

Perhaps the strongest feature of the trip were the site visits, arranged through the guanxi of our hosts. Using business and alumni contacts, Professors Julian Gaspar and Lane Kelley got us into places that read like a who’s who of Asian business. In Tokyo, the embassy and in Seoul, the chaebols–Samsung, Daewoo, Hyundai, and Hanwha; in Hong Kong, Motorola; IBM in Shenzhen; and the stock exchange and Nike in Bangkok. These were medium level visits, and above, with opportunity for question and answer at some, and schmoozing opportunities at others.

Though, to my way of thinking, there were not enough visits to consumer goods and services producers (and given the nature of Asian businesses or my insatiable appetite for more marketing oriented stops, there probably could not have been enough). We have tried to arrange similar visits for trips we have led; hence, we know how difficult it is to make the necessary contacts, especially for the variety of companies we visited. At least one of the businesses-focused trips to China that I paid to go on was slightly above a shopping tour; visit the factory on your way to the factory outlet store. Seeing assembly lines, and talking with plant managers did, however, delight many members of our group, And I did learn a lot about factories, and machinery, and widgets.

Cultural Time

Although business tends to neglect the past, that is obviously much harder to do in Asia, where vestiges of Tang China still infuse the business civilizations of Korea and Tokyo. Partly, we suspect, in recognition of the persistence of the past, partly in recognition of the first-time visitors in our group, and maybe because businesses were closed on Sunday and frequently on Saturday, we visited cultural sites. Some of that was built into the trip, such as a Kabuki dinner in Tokyo, and similar cultural experiences in Seoul, where the farmers’ dance reminds me of United Airlines and Korea (the power of advertising), and Bangkok; and we visited palaces in Seoul and ruins in Thailand. Some of the cultural experiences were on our own. During “free time”–early a.m. walks, Sundays, and some evenings–we could get out of the plush 5 star hotels where we were housed and rub shoulders with the rest of Asia, whether in the Polo and porn markets of Bangkok or the night markets of Hong Kong. I well remember a Star Ferry trip to one of the outlying islands in the still Crown Colony of Hong Kong, where I had an enjoyable fresh fish dinner; you need to be from the midwest, preferably a small town, to realize what a cultural shock that might be to meat and potatoes mentality types. Two other “cultural moments”–being in Thailand for the king’s 50th year celebrations, and being in Korea for its Memorial Day stand out.

Impressions/Vignettes

We had been to Asia before, and in fact, Professor Hoyt had just left students in Korea before joining the FDIB group in Honolulu and going back across the Pacific. But these were new countries, better business visits, or the passage of time–and the changes in Asia are no longer glacial in rapidity. Thus, there were additional reflections. Three (?) come readily to mind. First, we can no longer ignore the Asian economy because Asia is not just the future. Asia is now. The changes in the coastal cities of China in the seven years I’ve gone there are phenomenal; they went from the 1940s to the 1990s, from the jazz of the Sassoon House to the Hard Rock cafe–without many of the intervening steps. Not all that is good–the sun does not shine in many Asian cities, and even worse, McDonald’s and Karaoke threaten to undermine civilization as we know it. Yet the fact is obvious–the Asian economy has become a major player in the world economy. Japan already is, but Korea and China are there too. As I tell my students, English is being taught in the Chinese schools. How many of them are learning Chinese? It has become intertwined with our own–our trade deficit with the People’s Republic is larger than with Japan, and sure to grow after Hong Kong becomes a “Special Administrative Region.” However, what finally hit this trip is that Asia is now producing for the Asian market—not as a colonial economy producing for the triad!

Second, the attention to costs that dominates the business pages is not only globally caused; at least in part, it is a global concern. We were in the loveliest factory in Bangkok, which makes running shoes. More a pavilion than a “factory, “ It was certainly a sweatshop for Europeans in June. The manager, a non-perspiring young woman, told us the factory was having trouble competing in global markets because of the rising standard of living in Thailand. Wages were getting out of hand, she stated. How much is too much? $5 a day. Michael Jordan are you listening–Caterpillar employees, do you know that?

Finally, everyone familiar with Japan knows that Japan is the most expensive country in the world. If you have been there, you know that fresh fruit can be $25 a watermelon. It is not surprising that when the Japanese travel, they buy everything–golf courses, whole cities, hotels. The whole world is cheaper. Protectionism has helped make Japan competitive globally–at the expense of consumers. Everywhere I went in Japan, I asked about consumerism–does it exist. Knowledge about the outside world comes through clearly in Japan. Everyone said there is no consumer revolt, and indeed, the major topic of the political parties is the sex life of the emperor and empress–will they have an heir?

Then, one of our businessmen said something about the J. Crew catalog being available on the Web, and it hit me that this was consumerism at its finest–the creation of a truly global marketplace that is pull, rather than push oriented. But that’s another paper.

Summary/Conclusions

The FDIB trip had all the characteristics of a trip I would have designed–full days meeting real business people, with business cards and an address for further contacts, a blend of culture and business, a range of countries, overall, an excellent introduction to the varieties of Asian businesses and civilizations. One outcome is curricular–we’re introducing an Asian/Pacific business course at Illinois Wesleyan next year. Another is that our trips to Asia will be using some of the contacts for site visits–particularly one outspoken Hong Kong woman who argued forcefully for cultural immersion for us and our students.

Finally, while we were glad to return home, Asia can be like the joke about Chinese food. An hour later, you want to go back. I guarantee that for many of the first time visitors to Asia on this trip, it will not be their last. I’m hungry for more, but the FDIB trip helped me know what to order.

The East is Red 1996

Shantung and Taishan 1996 (2024 reminiscences)

I was (and still am) fascinated with Qingdao, and in May 1996, after leading a May Term, indulged that interest in touring the Shantung peninsula. It was my first trip in China on my own, which meant, essentially, going from town to town in a car with driver. The driver was Feng Hong, or “red wind,” a classic Cultural Revolution name. His English was confined to “Michael Jordan #1,” incontestably true for the greatest of all time. In fact, one of my fondest memories of Michael Jordan was watching a finals game in a yogwan in Korea (a room with a condom dispenser). The announcer (Taiwanese) watched Jordan float from the top of the key to the basket, and said, “Wow.” Not a Chinese word, but a universal description of MJ.

We went to Qingdao, Yantai (Chefoo), and Wei Hai Wei, three of the important treaty ports on the peninsula. I was surprised by how much of the colonial areas were still extant. Mornings in Qingdao definitely required joining in dancing on the squares in front of the Bavarian style Catholic Church.

I also remember asking Feng Hong to stop at one point so I could take pictures of a harvesting team of machinery that was the most mechanized agriculture I had ever seen in China. Combines in China. A first.

One other stop was a note worthy: Qu’fu, the home of the Great Sage, Confucius. The main shrine was massive, a paean to the importance (reemphasized in contemporary China) of a philosopher who encouraged order and obedience. The Confucian exams for centuries defined winners and losers in the civil service, and remnants of the rote learning it required are still embedded in China’s educational system. Qu’fu was one of the few places in China I saw stars and heard birds (not in cages). It was tranquil, in other words.

The literal highlight of course was Tai Shan, one of the most sacred mountains in China. It’s where Mao said, “The East is Red,” but Confucius sagely remarked, “The Earth is small.” I stayed in a Chinese-speaking guesthouse. At an ungodly hour, the phone rang and a voice announced (my translation—get up and get dressed, daybreak is coming). There was a PLA topcoat in the closet to protect me from the mountain chill; I threw it on and joined the throngs there to watch the sun come up over China. You can see me in the pictures: I’m the one without the cigarette.

Subsequently, in mangled Chinese, I assured others I was from Shantung, which is why I talked and looked funny. Ironically, David’s wife’s family is from Shantung, and reached the US via Korea and Taiwan.

Yan’an 1996

Reminiscences 2024

I remember it was a professor from

Augustana who suggested a trip to Yan’an, which was where the Communists fled in the 1930s from their bases in the interior–Kiangsi, Fujian, Szechwan–driven on the Long March by pressures from Chiang Kai-shek. How could Augie do something we did not, that sounded attractive?

I took the May Term 1996 class there, accordingly. We left from Xi’an,

taking the long road through the loess landscape, still filled with troglodytes, though we could see the glare of TVs inside the caves. It was a long ride, but we stayed a few days in Yan’an, viewing the cave where Chairman Mao regaled Edgar Snow for Red Star Over China. As we had come to expect, the hardships of the 30s made for touristy opportunities for the 90s, including pictures in Red Army gear. That included one of Weidade Jiaoshou, the great teacher (one of Mao’s names for himself). I have pictures to prove we went elsewhere, such as Xi’an, Nanking, Shanghai, and Beijing, but the Yan’an visit remains the most vivid memory of the trip.