You never forget your first (Reminiscences 2025)
‘Tis said you never forget your first. I certainly remember big chunks of my first trip with students—to China and Korea. Imbued with enthusiasm and the taste for travel, I sought and failed to get one of my teaching assignments in business as a travel course. Instead, George Kieh of International Studies was willing to house a January-term course entitled, “Trade and Diplomacy on the China Coast,” a play on the book by the well-known China scholar, John Fairbanks. As I recall, IWU then called in a number of vendors who bid on the trip. I wound up working with a local operation, Suzi Davis, and would soon learn how to navigate the torturous channel that led the agency to use a wholesaler in the US who would use a wholesaler in China who would arrange with a Chinese retailer….you get the fuzzy picture. To make the trip work, I applied for a grant from the “Fred Foundation,” paying my own way to make sure the numbers worked.
The trip would go to China and Korea. As I said, an opportunity to share my excitement and discovery with 10-25 students for two to three weeks, mixing business with history and culture.
In those days, we flew via Japan Air to Tokyo, stayed overnight in an airport hotel whose rooms were barely larger than a closet, then flew on to Hong Kong for a gradual introduction to “China.” Hong Kong still had some manufacturing, but it was clear that Southern China was soon going to be the factory to the world, and Hong Kong the transshipment point.
We were going to Guangzhou and staying on Shamian Island, which still had many of the old colonial buildings from the days it was THE international area. Cannons from the Opium War, sites from the postcards I collected!
Most of our meals were together and the one-table lazy-susan format became quite normal for us.
We had an interesting visit with the American Consul at the Dongfeng Hotel. He closed the door and explained China’s “environmental” policy at the time: Build a nuclear reactor at the edge of the ocean and dump the waste in the sea. One of the students observed the contradiction between the man/nature relationship in painting, and the rampant pollution in the air and the water he saw everywhere. However astute the comment, he fell in love with snake wine and decided to purchase a gallon jug (with pickled snake inside) in Guangzhou, which he carried with him for the rest of the trip. When he got home, his mom shried, and made him put it on the porch. It being winter, the wine froze, expanded, broke the glass, and freed wine and snake. Lesson learned.
We had an interesting flight somewhere. We were at the wrong gate, but our guide’s boyfriend was a traffic controller and I think he held the flight–to the disgruntlement of the passengers–until he could locate us. Pays to have friends in high places.
We took the train to Fuzhou, and once of the students cornered me and asked me if I’d seen the bathrooms on the train. “What’s the problem?” I asked her. “They’re holes in the ground,” adding, “I’ve never before experienced penis envy.”
On the plus side, we met a judge who invited us to his house for beer and peanuts and a discussion of how to get his son into Illinois Wesleyan University.
There followed the longer train ride from Fuzhou to the international settlement at Gulangsu in Xiamen (Amoy). This city had classical music wafting from colonial structures, and some of the charm of its historical past. I later learned that because it was across the straits from the
Kuomintang-controlled Taiwan, it had been a military base and not much changed had been allowed. The accommodation was at a hotel with a honeymoon suite. John Archer and I shared it (only one faculty member 
was required at the time), with a vibrating heart shaped bed. Don’t ask. The boys came back disappointed from the massage parlor, complaining that they had gotten only a massage.
In Shanghai, we stayed in the Palace Hotel, the former Sassoon Building, classic Art Deco of the 193os. The famed Jazz band was back, along with a restaurant on the top floor. When we went there for a meal, I spotted chopsticks with Peace Hotel markings. I was so excited I asked if I could buy a pair. The waiter said 25 yuan (or whatever), took my currency, and went to the next table. He picked up a pair and brought them back. The next 5 pairs were free, since I eliminated the middleman. I remember walking back from the discos at 1 am thinking, “I would never do this in Chicago.”
Beijing meant visiting the impressive sites that had dazzled and overwhelmed visitors from other countries, convincing them that China was the Middle Kingdom, a superior civilization. And of course, we spent time along the Great Wall, which had been a vain effort to keep the
barbarians at bay and to mark the end of the civilized world. Being winter, many of the students purchased warm winter coats at the Red Army store I asked our guide to find for us.
That was not necessary considered appropriate apparel when we got to Korea, since China was North Korea’s biggest supporter (and maybe only friend). The students had another problem: they had bought so much in China that they were so broke they could not afford to go out of the hotel. Plus, Seoul was much more expensive than China. Luckily for them, I had played “Let’s make a deal” with one of our Korean students whose dad was a senior executive 
with Samsung. The son got an independent study course so he could return to Seoul for J Term. The grateful dad provided us with a guide, a bus, and all the meals we desired, and we went to Panmunjom, Samsung, and the King Sejong grave (he invented the Korean alphabet)
. As our last meal in Asia, he provided us with a meal at a private dining room at the top of the tallest building (at the time) in Asia, which included chateaubriand.
Everyone left happy, and I bet they remember that “first time” too.