I really enjoyed Professor Meeks’ presentation on Buddhism in Japan. Someone in class mentioned the zombie apocalypse while Professor Meeks was showing artwork depicting Hell Beings. This gave me an idea. I am thinking about asking either middle school or high school students (next time I teach either) to present their artistic rendition of Hell Beings, Hell in Dante’s Inferno, and the zombie apocalypse. I would select short articles and/or excerpts from literature explaining a brief history of the aforementioned and a description of each. I would also select some artistic renditions of each from around the time the works were written. I think the students would enjoy an activity like this one. I am not joking.
For all these years, I’ve thought that I reached the state of nirvana somewhere between Potala Palace in Tibet and Kathmandu Nepal while on an overland trip. I was wrong. The depth and complexity of the influence of Buddhism in all of East Asia is truly extraordinary. I found Professor Lori Meeks’ lecture on Japanese Buddhism to be informative and enlightening. Although I spent a little over six months living in Osaka, Japan, and even though I’ve visited Kyoto, I didn’t study the history of Buddhism while in Japan or any time after that.
Professor Meeks stated that Buddhism was introduced to Japan in 552 CE, and that Buddhism was brought overt to Japan as a part of greater continental culture: art, architecture, law, and Confucian learning. She mentioned that Buddhism gave Japanese people a new world view.
I believe that as teachers, and as students ourselves, we can at least try to understand and appreciate the worldview of others. I would ask my students to study Buddhism, and explain how it shaped, or reshape, the worldview of citizens of countries where it was introduced. (They can select two or three countries in East Asia.) I would also ask my students to be conscience of their own biases as Westerners and as citizens of the 21st Century.
In his book, “The Genesis of Science: How the Christian Middle Ages Launched the Scientific Revolution” James Hannam wrote, “One of the essential lessons of history is that if we use our own categories to describe the past we will seriously misjudge it. Instead, it is important to understand where people in the Middle Ages were coming from and to understand them on their own terms.”
I believe that James Hannam’s advice can be applied to understanding the spread of Buddhism in East Asia.
In her lecture, Professor Mary Li Ma mentioned a cyclical pattern where China has traditionally accepted and rejected outside influences.
This reminded me of a time when China sent out students to learn from the Western powers (similar to what the Japanese did in the late 1800’s)
In his book, “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Dragon”, Yong Zhao wrote about the Chinese Education Mission (CEM) which sent 120 boys to study Western technology at American universities, but which ended without achieving its goals. The participants of this program, according to Yong Zhao, actually ended up being persecuted upon their return to China. Evidently, those governing China at the time thought they didn’t need western science and technology.
Decades later June Chang, in her book on Mao titled “Mao: The Unknown Story” (if I recall correctly), wrote about a graveyard of thousands half-built factories which were built under the guidance of the USSR.
Does this indicate that China was actually interested in modernizing during the Mao era, but did not succeed in part because China aligned itself to a USSR that was not fully modernized and not tied to the world’s financial and trade systems? Of course, internal political upheavals didn’t help.
The leaders of the Joseon Dynasty saw themselves as culturally superior to the Manchu of the Ching Dynasty – and as the last bastion of civilization. A big claim, indeed. However, not as bold as the claim that I heard made by a docent at a museum in Kaesong, North Korea.
The young docent at the museum proudly proclaimed that paper was invented in North Korea.
Everyone in the tour group seemed surprised by his comment, though no one questioned or challenged his assertion.
This reminds me of a claim that I’ve often heard made by countless laymen and mortals like me (or one that’s often alluded to by those writing books).
“My civilization was/is the most innovative – and the most advanced in the history of humankind.” Who said this? Individuals from more countries than I care to list. Often time, “the most advanced civilization” is determined by scientific innovation, military prowess, or archaeological records.
But I think this approach really misses the point. As a teacher, it is more important to find commonalities in humankind, those that bring us together, instead of differences that divide us. I try to teach my students to value the mythology of ancient Polynesians just as well as they value the mythology of the ancient Greeks.
Maui is as important as Poseidon.
I have taught haiku poetry in the past to students both in the US and in China. Haiku poetry has always been a big hit because it is approachable and manageable. Students understand the ideas of nature and simplicity when asked to write haiku poems.
I had not heard of sijo poetry until this week. Although sijo poetry is more complex than haiku, given that it contains more lines and allows for a greater variety of topics such as political discontent and heroism, I still think that my students will enjoy it and understand it.
A nice comparative study of haiku and sijo would help my students to understand (or at least appreciate) the similarities and differences between these two forms of poetry.
Three kingdoms and two Koreas
I spent one month working at a winter camp for middle school students at Korea University in South Korea many years ago. The students and teachers stayed in dormitories on campus. We ate at one of the university’s cafeterias, and we used the universities classrooms.
I had been living in Shanghai, China for many years by the time I visited South Korea, so the change from a bone chilling Shanghai winter, to a snowy but seemingly warmer South Korea was a welcome and much needed change. I traveled from the airport to the university, first by bus, and then by train. The neon Christian crosses that dotted the Korean landscape were a surprise. I hadn’t seen so many Christian crosses and churches since I spent some time living in Akron, Ohio years before.
The young Korean college students who served as our teachers’ aides were polite and deeply proud of their university and their country. I don’t recall having any conversations with them of a political nature. We mainly talked about entertainment and food.
Many years later, I took a trip to North Korea. It was in North Korea that I first saw a map of the Three Kingdoms. The map was shown and explained to our tour group at a museum. It was interesting to learn that Korea had three powerful kingdoms.
I would like to know if (and how) the Three Kingdoms were ever unified. And if so, did the unfied Korean people see themselves as one (in ancient times) or did members of each respective kingdom see each other as culturally different?
The first thing I thought about when I saw the Korean tabletop dolmen was Aslan in “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.” Immediately after that, I thought about Stonehenge.
Professor Jung-Kim mentioned in her presentation that the dolman are not unique to Korea, and that they are found in other countries or regions of the world such as Ireland, the Netherlands, and Spain.
The dolmen would be an interesting topic of discussion for my students. I would ask them to research and compare two or three distinct countries where dolmen we’re built. I would ask them to find answers to some of the following questions: Who built them? Approximately when were they built? Why were they built? What were they used for? What were the shamanistic or religious practices of the people who built them?
A comparative world study of shamanism would also be interesting. How does shamanism compare around the world during the relative development of various civilizations?
Warriors have held their place in the upper echelons of nearly all societies since recorded time. Warriors have usually been ranked in the top five on nearly all hierarchical, social orders. The Japanese samurai were no exception.
Turning to the subject of brutality – while it’s true that the Japanese samurai had a code of ethics – they were also brutal and fierce.
I was reminded in class not to romanticize the samurai due to their brutal nature.
However, as a teacher, it is important that my students are not given the impression that only the samurai (or the Aztecs) were fierce warriors. Julius Caesar, for example, was known for his exceptional brutality, yet, western civilization does not stop from romanticizing his life and his conquests. During the conquest of Gaul, Julius Caesar’s legions were known to build walls around existing city walls in the regions of Gaul. The purpose of this strategy was to starve out the residents of each surrounded city. Barry Strauss, in his book “Masters of Command: Alexander, Hannibal, Caesar, and the Genius of Leadership,” wrote that Julius Caesar would not spare women and children who were being starved in the walled in cities.
The same holds true on the murder and betrayal of those jockeying for power and position. Unfortunately, the Japanese do not hold a monopoly on such.
I spent just a little bit over seven months living in Osaka, Japan many years ago. I was working as a public-school middle teacher at the time. To overcome the claustrophobia associated with living in a tiny, windowless apartment with a total space not large enough to hold a bonsai tree, I read several contemporary Japanese novelists. I remember reading “Snow Country” by Yasunari Kawabata. Somewhere around that time, while browsing in a bookstore, I read that the best early prose in Japan was written by women. While the men, the scholars, of the Heian period we’re busy copying and poorly imitating the works of the Tang dynasty – the women were writing exquisite, unguarded, and original prose (and poetry). Some of the greatest classics of early Japanese literature – such as “The Tale and Genji”, “The Pillow Book” and “The Sharashina Diary” were written by women.
Sonja Arntzen, in her introduction to “The Sharashina Diary”, wrote, “During this period, women writers had the domain of prose writing almost to themselves, and they produced numerous works of sophisticated ‘self-writing’ as well as fiction. Indeed, the surviving works by women in the mid-Heian period compromise the earliest substantial body of women’s writing in the world.”
I believe that this was possible because the women were not constrained by the boundaries of what were considered acceptable and rigid literary forms, which in turn, allowed them to write in a more creative manner.
I always encourage my students to venture beyond their comfort zones, more specifically, I encourage them to look across borders, to explore the past, to look beyond the shores, and to learn to analyze and to synthesize information in order to invent a new future.
On David Lampton’s presentation on China’s efforts to create an inter-country railway system:
I would use David Lampton’s presentation to encourage my students to engage in comparative studies of large-scale infrastructure projects from past and present. I would encourage my students to make objective comparisons that appreciate and value the contributions of various societies from various times and places. I would encourage them to test their biases and to challenge their conceptions of which culture, or cultures, have contributed “the most” to the advancement of humankind.
On Jessica Liao’s presentation on China green mercantilism:
I would use Jessica Lioa’s presentation to encourage my students to study alternative energy sources to coal powered plants. More importantly, I would encourage my students to conduct in-depth studies on the difference between the interaction of Western powers (past and present) with the developing world, China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI).
On Dru Gladney’s presentation on Xinjiang:
From a historical perspective, Dru Gladney offered an extraordinarily interesting historical/ archaeological presentation on Xingjiang. I would encourage my students, again, to make comparisons of early peoples from across the globe. I spent nearly 20 years living in China. I visited Xinjiang in 2002, mainly because I wanted to visit a museum that was purportedly housing the mummies of Westerners, purportedly mummies of Europeans. This statement was always interesting to me, because there are people in the west who believe exactly the opposite.
I think of my nearly two decades in China whenever I see Amtrak’s “Pacific Surfliner” slowly making its way through my neighborhood in Camarillo, California. The China of my arrival in 2001 didn’t have a single high-speed bullet train. Most trains were old and rickety, and nearly all train stations were old and dilapidated. Back in those days, I once took an overnight train from Shanghai to Guiling. On another occasion, I took a train from Shanghai to a city in Xinjiang called Kashgar. At least that was the plan. My trip started in Shanghai at the beginning of Chinese New Year, and all I could get my hands on was a standing ticket. In China, it was possible in those days to buy “standing room only” tickets on trains. I only managed to stand up until we arrived in Xian. There, I got off and took planes the rest of the way…
I enjoyed David Lampton’s presentation on China’s efforts to create an inter-country railway system. It is clear that China’s efforts to build railway networks involve more than just railways. These efforts also involve the building of other infrastructure such as dams, highway networks, supply chains, internet infrastructure, and scientific cooperation.
Jessica Liao’s presentation on China green mercantilism was also interesting. It is clear that the world’s superpowers, and all the developing nations of the world, still have a long way to go in order to move away from coal powered power plants. I was not surprised to learn (though I like to pretend not to know) that most of the world still derives its power from coal (or oil).
Finally, I really liked Dru Gladney’s presentation because it reminded me of the weeks that I spent in Xinjiang nearly twenty years ago. The highlights of my trip were long bus rides through places like the Taklamakan Desert and along the Karakoram Highway. The artifacts and evidence that Dru Gladney presented, which show the early presence of Eurasian people’s in the area, was interesting.
My father is not guilty of breaking an important law. My father is a follower of Zhuang Zi. He thinks that all government laws and regulations of social morality are oppressive. What is legal and what is evil is subject to interpretation. Humankind is biased. Humans cannot agree on what is universal and what is good. The Dao is the only way. The Dao cannot be described, but it's the only way. My father needs to be released at once.
Schools of thought do not develop in a vacuum. Instead, they slowly evolved over time, while collecting ideas from various people, places and time periods. The Three Teaching in ancient China, for example, contain discernible similarities. The Chinese idea of the family is subject to interpretation. The family can be defined as one’s immediate family, or as the nation as a whole. In western traditions, The Roman empire was heavily influenced by the Greek empire. Later, the renaissance brought back to light the books, such as On The Nature Of Things, which had been collecting dust in monasteries for centuries.
The Yin and Yang symbol is probably one of the most recognized symbols from the far East in the US. Its widespread use and recognition, I believe, is due to Hollywood’s influence, and not to ancient Chinese philosophers. I do recognize that the use of this symbol may have first been introduced to United States by early Chinese immigrants. However, Hollywood’s ability to romanticize and give things “a cool factor” has been more influential than anything else in promoting the Yin and Yang.
I have seen the Ying and Yang symbol at restaurants all over California. I have seen people in Los Angeles walking around with tattoos of the Yin and Yang. And I have seen martial arts studios where the Ying and Yan is prominantly displayed.
As mentioned, I believe that the Yin and Yang symbol is popular because of Hollywood’s influence, but also because it represents something mysterious and distant.
The ancient Greeks did not have a monopoly on making myths and creating heroes. All civilizations, and indigenous peoples around the world, have stories which explain their origins – and which created their heroes.