Academic Culture the Biggest Shock

Academic Culture the Biggest Shock

A month into the school year here in Hong Kong, I’ve realized that adapting to the academic life here is actually the most difficult part of studying abroad. Not the completely foreign language, very…interesting food, different customs, or any other aspect of life has so far presented me with the most discomfort or struggle.

Why?

Let me start with a few caveats –

1) Switching to a different university at all in the middle of college takes serious adjustment. It’s like being a freshman all over again except no one is going out of their way to help you ease in or figure it out. You’re simply thrown into classes alongside students who already have gotten the hang of things.

2) All five of my courses are transferring back to my home university for credit with the grades I receive counting towards my GPA. Coming from a highly competitive academic background, I’m naturally inclined to stress more about academics than other aspects since it “counts.” Not feeling on top of my work, something probably quite normal when suddenly switching institutions, is bound to make me uncomfortable or worried.

Having admitted those other factors at play, I believe that certain aspects of education here that differ from those I’m used to are still significant contributors to my “academic culture shock.” Besides, I have found the difference quite interesting, causing me to think quite a bit about methods of education and the implications it has post-graduation.

When creating my schedule for the semester, I was excited to find I could easily keep my Friday class-free (easier for weekend trips!) since most courses only meet once or twice a week. At home, such a thing would never have been possible for my major and only possible for other majors with significant planning. The catch? This means that lectures can be two or three hours long. Even when the third hour is a discussion-based tutorial, my attention span simply does not last that long. I find myself impatient and irritated by the time lecture ends, even when I started fully alert and genuinely interested in learning the material. Perhaps I’m just used to having a maximum of 1.5 hours lectures, but I suspect most college students, even the brightest or most motivated (or well-rested), struggle to seriously absorb and critically engage material all the way to the end of a two or three hour lecture.

The infrequency of meeting times followed by a pounding of new material also seems to be a highly inefficient way to learn. If I’m only thinking about the material once, maybe twice a week, it’s hard for the concept to really sink in, especially when those one or two meetings are absolutely crammed with content.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be such an issue, however, if the assignments for class weren’t also so infrequent. After all, back home plenty of courses only meet twice a week. Here, many of my syllabi read like this:

5 Assignments 30%

Midterm 30%

Final 40%

And then substitute midterm and final for a single paper and assignments for a single written reflection or presentation to create the rest of my syllabi. How can I grasp the material without engaging it, either in lecture, assignments, or, ideally, both? The combination of infrequent but long lecture meetings with very few, heavily weighted assignments has left me suddenly worried about academics. When that one big assignment is due, I realize that maybe I didn’t quite absorb the lecture material after all, despite it making perfect sense at the time. Not thinking about the subject often through more frequent lecture meetings and/or assignments means concepts that I understood in lecture fade from my mind since I don’t revisit or use them soon enough.

I never thought that I would say it, but I miss the workload back home. It forces me to engage the subject matter and stay on top of what’s going on in class. Of course, fewer assignments gives a high level of flexibility for travel and fun while abroad, but I would not want to spend all four years of college in such an environment. Essentially, it takes much more personal motivation and self-imposed structure to accomplish the same outcome; props to the many, many students here who have that. Still, I think that a university should be trying to help its students, and none of the trends above seem to work towards that end in the most efficient way.

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A Peek Inside a Hong Kong Apartment

A Peek Inside a Hong Kong Apartment

As the taxi drove me and two new friends from the airport to campus on my first evening in Hong Kong, I was amazed by what I saw out the window – a forest of glittering towers on all sides, packed close to the highway that they whizzed by too quickly to capture a picture. The vast majority of these buildings, however, are not beautiful skyscrapers crafted by renowned architects and housing the offices of major international corporations. Certainly, Hong Kong possesses a very impressive skyline full of such buildings, but the buildings that fill in all of the gaps, spreading up the hills, and giving the city its “urban jungle” feel are the packed apartments that are home to Hong Kong residents.

Even out in the New Territories near the Chinese Universtiy of Hong Kong, clusters of apartments of 30 or 40 floors are squeezed close together in every valley. As one of the “most densely populated areas in the world,” it is only feasible to build up and not out. The spacing between the apartments was probably even more surprising to me than the overwhelming number of them, adding to their impressiveness. Some buildings on Hong Kong Island are simply exactly next to each other. Many others appear to close together that a resident of one could probably stretch their arm out the window and easily high five their neighbor in the next building over.

Another feature of the apartments is how, at first glance, they all appear to be quite dirty and run down. Yet as I have wandered the streets of Central, Kowloon, and Wan Chai over the past month, I didn’t see many that did not have this appearance. “Surely there must be luxury apartments somewhere in this major world financial center.” Of course some looked much shabbier than
others, I still wondered why none seemed to fit my idea of what a luxury apartment would look like from the outside. (Disclaimer: I did not grow up or attend school in a major city, so my ideas could be unrealistic even in the US).

All of these observations and a growing suspicion that apparently unkept outsides hid much nicer insides fed a growing curiosity to see the inside of one of these apartments. Walking on the streets, the most I ever saw was dimly lit stairwells with metal gates that led up into the housing units above the shops below. Luckily, a very loose family connection put me in contact with a local man who had a high school aged daughter whom he was eager to introduce to a Western college student. Though I had never met the man, his wife, or his daughter, they picked me up and treated me to a trip to a museum, a short hike, and then lunch at a restaurant.  Throughout the day, we exchanged questions and answers about various topics, and by the time they dropped me off again, they had kindly extended an invitation for me to join them for dinner that evening…in their apartment!

 

As I had guessed (and my mainland Chinese roommate suggested when we talked about the topic previously), local Hong Kong families do not typically have guests over for meals in their homes due to their size. Sure enough, I arrived to their 20th floor apartment, the main room which contained the entry way, shelves, a TV, small couch, and fold-out dinner table was not more than 20 square feet. Leading off from this room was a kitchen perhaps 4 feet wide and 10 feet deep and a short hallway leading to a small bathroom, two bedrooms, and an office. Each of these rooms was smaller than the main room; the office perhaps the size of my own walk-in closet at home.

Apart from the size, the apartment was as clean and well-kept as any normal household. The slightly run down appearance of the building’s exterior was not reflected on the inside. Wood floors and clean, white walls with modest furniture with little extra decoration made it feel like (what I would consider) a normal middle class home.

Overall, I’m sure that different apartments have vastly different interiors, ranging in size and condition. What is clear, however, is that there are no neighborhoods or houses as Americans conceive of them. Property and housing are far too scare and far too expensive for such development patterns to exist. Instead, everyone, from opulently rich to the working poor, live in these massive jungles of apartments.