As someone who became serious about Chinese language studies as a student at the American Inter-University Program (a.k.a., Stanford Center) at National Taiwan University 1966-67, and who, much later, worked as Resident Director of a very different language program for American students at Peking University (1984-85), I am greatly disturbed to learn about the suspension of Stanford’s program at Beida. In comparing the two experiences, I can testify without hesitation that my student experience in Taiwan was far more effective even though the spoken Mandarin there was generally accented, and our teachers (most of whom were either raised or from families from north China) warned us to be careful about the way the “national language” was spoken outside our tutorial classes. But it was indeed the social atmosphere of Taiwan at the time that allowed our spoken Mandarin to really improve. In the first week I set foot in Taipei, I had to find my own housing, which I did by purchasing a newspaper and scanning through the ads. I then had to negotiate as best I could with the owner of the house I rented with a couple of American roommates, one of whom I just met on a public bus. We then hired an old lady as our cook and housekeeper, who treated us for the rest of the year like we were her children, telling us to dress up when it got cold, or learning quickly about what we liked to eat. Just talking with her improved our Chinese-speaking abilities. No, we did not completely blend in, but there is no question we experienced a lot about what it was like to be living and communicating in a Chinese environment, which has got to be why we went through the difficulties to get ourselves there in the first place. Guess I don’t need to add that our functionality with Mandarin language improved tremendously.
The situation was very different in Beijing. There we were all housed in a separate dormitory–the Shaoyuan–on the Beida campus, with students from some twenty different countries foreign to China. North Koreans, in fact, were there to learn English, not Chinese. Other than going to classes, the rest of my students days were spent with other Americans or non-native Chinese speakers. Chinese students they might bump into on campus could only visit them by signing in at the dorm–something most would not want to do. As someone playing the role of a Director, I of course tried to help them with their homework. But, without the daily advantage of casual communication with native Chinese acquaintances or, indeed, exploring Beijing society, the fundamental advantages for being in-country are denied. I went to Taiwan to learn Mandarin when I did because it was not possible then for an American to go to China. But I’m sure that being allowed to become acquainted easily with the people there made my experience of trying to learn l language overseas so much more effective.
I honestly do not know an ideal answer to the problem. Maybe moving away from the center of the Chinese government would help. At least for the immediate future, reviving the Stanford Center in Taipei may not be as ridiculous an idea as it sounds. At any rate, it is a problem we need to discuss. Personally, I’ve profited so much from my commitment to learning advanced Chinese that I would do anything I could to make sure that students after me can have the same good fortune.
Tim Wong
Professor of Chinese, Emeritus
Arizona State University