Not Here Or There

Not Here Or There

Chinese students at Ohio University just try to be themselves.

Created by Darcy Holdorf

TranscriptVIDEO PORTRAIT: Andy Liu

Andy Liu showed up at his dorm room in Perkins Hall long after midnight. He hesitated for a few moments before stepping past a poster on the front door that featured Chairman Mao, with the text "Let's Party." He mumbled a greeting to his American roommates dragging behind him the nearly empty black rolling suitcase he had brought from China. The suitcase now contained nothing but sheets, a pillow and a change of clothes.
Andy stole sideways glances around the room. A torn page from a magazine with a bare-breasted blonde was taped to the otherwise unadorned, generic wooden closet. A poster of a bronzed model in skimpy lingerie with the text "15 reasons why a beer is better than a woman," decorated the stained, yellow walls. Workout clothes were thrown arbitrarily around the room, and pizza boxes littered the floor, avoiding the three overflowing plastic trash bins. A five-pound tub of whey bodybuilding protein sat next to the microwave.

Andy stole sideways glances around the room. A torn page from a magazine with a bare-breasted blonde was taped to the otherwise unadorned, generic wooden closet. A poster of a bronzed model in skimpy lingerie with the text "15 reasons why a beer is better than a woman," decorated the stained, yellow walls. Workout clothes were thrown arbitrarily around the room, and pizza boxes littered the floor, avoiding the three overflowing plastic trash bins. A five-pound tub of whey bodybuilding protein sat next to the microwave.

When his roommate asked if he needed help unpacking, Andy froze. His English listening skills are not very strong, and he hesitated long enough that his roommate, unsure how to respond to the awkward silence, gave up and returned to his computer. Andy spread his yellow and pink striped sheets and floral print comforter on one of the two wooden bunk beds. He unpacked a change of clothes for the next day, and promptly left for the library. It was three weeks into the quarter, and this was Andy's first visit to his dorm. He will end up spending most nights with his girlfriend, Popo Huang, at her off-campus apartment.
Andy came to Ohio University in 2009 as part of a boom of Chinese student immigration. China's economic growth has created a burgeoning middle class with expendable income that, due to the one-child policy, places intense emphasis on children's higher education. China's strict university entrance requirements and a lack of higher educational institutions limit the opportunity for study, which compels more and more Chinese students to study abroad.

"Sometimes you don't have confidence because you don't have hope, you can't see hope. You study the same things again and again… you see some new students, some freshman. You can't see the hope. "—Andy Liu

In 2010, 603 Chinese undergraduate students came to Ohio University compared to 17 in 2004. That same year, 81% of all international students at OU came from China. Dr. Gerry Krzic, director of the Ohio Program of Intensive English, says this is a global trend. "All ESL (English as a Second Language) programs follow a cycle. Right now we're in the Chinese, [and] the Saudi Arabian cycle. It's really a result of world economic and political conditions."
In 2007, Ohio University began to work on a larger scale with Chinese recruiting agencies in order to increase the number of Chinese undergraduate admissions. Vicki Seefeldt West was hired as the Senior Assistant Director for International Recruitment at Ohio University. West helped form relationships with partner agencies in China that advertise, recruit and help students with the application process. Since OU began working with agencies, enrollment of international students from China has increased by 70%.
West believes that the agency model is mutually beneficial, easing the application process for students while upping the universities international enrollment. "Some regard these agencies as these evil, unethical entities whereas in a lot of cases they really are providing services for the families," says West. "Yes, you'll find some agencies that are unethical but you'll find that in any business model and that's why we have to be careful and diligent in working with them."

Students are placed into the Ohio Program of Intensive English, OPIE, a program that prepares students for academic study. Depending on their initial English TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language) score, they test into one of seven levels and begin what, for many, turns into years of language classes before they can enter into the university proper. Making their way through the OPIE maze an urgent and daunting concern for students pressure from their families that pay nearly 65,000 Chinese RMB or $10,000 a quarter for their education.
For many, studying in OPIE is like living between two worlds, somewhere between China and the United States. Most students attend full-time English courses with other international students, shuffling back and forth between the library, their dormitory and class. They log hours of listening exercises online, interpreting American culture through trivial skits that often have nothing to do with their daily lives. One such skit is about a man who buys roses for his angry wife and another is about a family summer vacation. Passage into the realm of authentic American life is rare, because the Chinese students tend to stay together, isolating themselves from American culture.
The center of the Chinese student universe is Gordy Hall. A three-story, red brick building near the center of campus, it houses the OPIE office and the majority of its English language instruction. In classes of about a dozen internationals, students sit stoically, separated from those of the same nationality to prevent them from speaking any language other than English. The walls are covered with smudged chalkboards, maps and colorful grammar notes. "What is one of the main reasons that young adults in the United States go to bars?" reads one question in a workbook. "Find a girl and then fall in love," is written in neat handwriting.

TranscriptVIDEO PORTRAIT: Popo Huang

However, Gordy Hall is not large enough for the 1,197 students enrolled in OPIE in 2010. The program uses classrooms all over campus. On the basement level of the Convocation Center, beneath the basketball stadium, an 8.5 by 11 piece of paper with OPIE typed in large block letters is taped to the inside of a glass door. Curved, dark hallways lined with classrooms open up in intervals to conference spaces where professors are giving mid-term reviews. In room after room, students sit dejected, arguing their case to move on in the program. They return down the cave-like hallway to their respective rooms.

"Sometimes American jokes, I really can't understand that but people laugh so I just laugh. "—Popo Huang

After two years at OU, Andy is still a full-time student in OPIE and has yet to take a single a single engineering class. He spends hours on end preparing for the TOEFL exam, which is the only obstacle that stands in the way of Andy and his engineering. This May, he will take the test for the sixth time. Sitting with a group of Chinese classmates at the library, Andy is often distracted, joking with friends about video games or movies, bored by the monotony of his work. "You study the same thing again and again. I see no hope, I see no end."
Andy is not the only student struggling to graduate from OPIE. According to Christina Jones, a professor at OPIE, many students are frustrated by their inability to get ahead in the program. Some spend two or three years studying English before entering their major.
Many OPIE students live in Scott Quad, the international dorm across the street from Gordy Hall. The main entrance to Scott Quad is a red brick archway with hanging lanterns. The lanterns lead to a square-shaped, open air courtyard that is lined with cherry trees. Four wooden benches form a circle between patches of manicured grass.
At dusk, large spotlights on the roof of the building click on, and the courtyard, strewn with cigarette butts, is bathed in blue light. From the courtyard, the building looks elegant. Warm golden light spews out from the rows of white-rimmed windows on all four sides. The three-story building resembles a hollowed out cube. In the hallways, door after door is adorned with Chinese characters. 180 out of the 215 residents at Scott are Chinese and the dorm has become known among international students as China Town.

A group of friends make noodles in a rice cooker in their room. Cooking is forbidden in Scott, so a plastic bag covers the smoke detector to avoid getting caught. From left: Ma Wen Qi, Zhou Yi Ming, Song Kai Li, Monroe Pan, Bill Zhang, and Zhu Zi Yang.

At 2 a.m. on the third floor lounge, four 18-year-old residents play Mahjong, a popular gambling game of skill and strategy. It is played with rectangular tiles bearing Chinese characters and symbols. The students banter back and forth as they select and discard tiles, much like in the Western game, gin rummy. "I got it!" Ma Wen Qi, a resident of Scott Quad says. She slaps her tiles down, face up, to show a perfectly paired row of 14. All four players extend their arms and a loud rustling marks the start of a new hand as they shuffle and then stack the tiles.
Down the hall, a group of friends make noodles in a rice cooker in their room. They add chopped green onion and soy sauce and eat with chopsticks out of Tupper Ware. Cooking is forbidden in the dorm rooms, so a plastic bag covers the smoke detector to avoid getting caught. Couples sit in tight pairs or on each other's laps. It is almost entirely, impenetrably Chinese.
Kyle McKenzie, Associate Director of International Student and Faculty Services, says that Scott Quad was selected to house international students together to ease the transition into a new culture.. "Originally the idea was [the international students] would all start out in the same residence hall and then they would make friends and they would move out," McKenzie said. "That would be the ideal situation, but it isn't always that smooth."
Bill Zhang sits on a bench in the courtyard smoking Chinese cigarettes with six friends. They crack jokes about money, sex, cars and fame. The and the friends complain that they are bored with Athens. "I don't like living in Scott Quad," says Bill, who plans to study Business when he gets out of the English program. "We don't have any chance to speak English. Too many Chinese."
Bill has been in Athens for five months and he has few American friends. He socializes within a Chinese circle of friends, playing games in the lounge at Scott or playing basketball at the health center. Bill's spoken English is rudimentary, and he is frustrated with the dismal outlook of the long road ahead of him in OPIE. Bill is considering returning to China this summer for intensive TOEFL preparation.

Clara Zhang lives on the second floor of Scott Quad. From China's Shan Xi Province, she came to Ohio University in March with the help of a recruiting agency. She paid 25,000 Chinese RMB or $3,850, for help with the university application and visa process. She is a transfer student, and she wants to study international trading to get a job at her uncle's company. "I want to study the real university classes more, to live a more formal America college life," says Clara. "I just watch the American college students walking around, having meals, I cannot feel this life now."

"I try to go to some American party, but they're just too crazy. "—Andy Liu

Clara, like her international peers, does not feel American She doesn't know the name of any Disney characters in English. She was alone in her dorm room when her resident assistant, dressed as Snow White, knocked on her door to invite her to a Disney-themed party. The party was organized by the resident staff to get Chinese students to interact with Americans.
Clara set down her laptop, left her room with the empty bed that waits for an American roommate, and walked down the hallway of closed doors to the lounge. A friend helped her to write the name Fiona, Shrek's princess, on her nametag and she chatted in Chinese with two other new arrivals. She watched Hercules, she drew with crayons in a Disney coloring book and she returned to the refuge of her empty room.

TranscriptVIDEO PORTRAIT: Clara Zhang

For Popo, Andy's girlfriend, a two-point difference on a standardized test decided her future. Acceptance into university in China depends solely on the National Higher Education Entrance Exam, an infamously rigorous standardized test, which is China's version of the SAT. Popo's score was two points below the minimum to get into university in her hometown, Guangzhou, in southern China. She decided to come to Ohio University.
Popo prefers studying in the United States. "Chinese education focuses too much on exams and they're really bad about the creative and letting the students think," she says.
Initially, Popo's parents were not supportive of her decision to study art. They wanted her to study business or a more practical major like other Chinese students that study abroad. Popo eventually convinced them that studying graphic design could be a benefit to her family's printing business. She is now taking art history, printmaking and philosophy as part of her major.

"I want to study the real university classes more, to live a more formal American college life. I watch the American college students walking around, having meals, I don't know that life now. "—Clara Zhang

The Chinese Student and Scholars Association held a masquerade ball in the Walter Hall Retunda, a dramatic, high-ceilinged ballroom encircled with 15-foot -tall windows. Black, white and gold balloons were taped to the walls to cover-up the sterile, institutional atmosphere. The women wore tight-fitting, strapless cocktail dresses and teetered in rhinestone encrusted silver stiletto heels on the dingy gray carpet. The men wore dress pants and suit jackets a size too big. Andy wore a gray bow tie. He and Popo were fighting. Bill popped in but didn't dance. Clara stayed home.
At the party, there was a rigid program of events scheduled precisely and painstakingly down to the minute. In a leggy, light blue mini-dress Yihan Fu, one of the entertainers, sang a sultry blues song in English. The M.C. lined men and women on separate sides of the room and the groups held a dance-off.
Red and yellow disco lights illuminated masked, shy faces. Most of the guests stayed in the shadows around the edges of the circular ballroom. They stood in small groups and checked each other out, slightly bending their knees and shifting to the music. Sugary Asian-American pop songs repeated throughout the night.
"What do you know about Abraham Lincoln?" asks Ron Luce, a middle-aged man holding a civil war musket. A group of a dozen international students on an OPIE class field trip stare back at him. "He's on the money," said one student. "He helped the black people," said another. Ron Luce, of the Athens County Historical Society and Museum in Athens, goes on to explain the history of the Civil War. Clara has her notebook out, but she takes sparse notes. She understands only bits and pieces of the history lecture.
After the field trip, Clara struggled to write ten sentences about the museum trip She writes: "The Civil War was found between 1861-1865; I saw the war's soldier's clothes is blue; I listened to the ancient church music." Clara hardly speaks in class; she sits by herself and quietly does her work. "How do you say instrument in English?" a classmate asked her in Chinese. "Instrument?" she said. Clara knows, but she is self-conscious and hindered by her own doubt.
Clara returned to her dorm room alone. She unloaded the shoulder bag that carries her six English textbooks. She was tired, and she laid down to take a nap before returning to Gordy Hall for an evaluation test that same evening. Aside from her full load of classes, she had to spend time practicing for the TOEFL exam, which determines whether or not she can take other classes in the greater university.
"Do you know where Marietta, Ohio is?" Luce asked that afternoon at the museum. Clara and her classmates shook their heads. Most of them had never even heard of Marietta, which is a picturesque town not far from where they stood. The edge of campus might as well be another border for them to cross.

"I think it wouldn't be hard [to get to know American friends] for a person whose English is good because I think the Americans are very friendly. But it's pretty hard if your English is not very good. Because we can't communicate, both sides don't know what the other is talking about." —Clara Zhang