Xiamen University Library

I love libraries and enjoy getting the flavor of a new library, so I headed over to the University library after registering. I needed an e-card to get in, but that wouldn't be available, until next week, so I endeavered to use sign-language with the security guard to see if he would let me in. I pulled out my brand-spanking new student ID passbook and attracted some passersby to assist me. They both spoke English and convinced the guard to let me in, under their supervision.

My rescuers, Eliza and her boyfriend, wished to assist me in all matters. They guided me to the social sciences section of the stacks. As I entered, I was assaulted by the vast amount of meaningless material in front of me.

Eliza pointed out a few books with English titles. We moved to the books on painting and drawing and then on to poetry. Eliza seemed willing to personally introduce me to each subject area, but I did not want to waste her time that way.

So, I asked to see the computer science section. I was curious, for example, to learn how the Chinese would explain programming, which essentially uses English words and looks somewhat meaningful to many English speakers. It was a small section. I noticed one book on programming in C. Chinese text surrounded sample programs. The comments inside the code were in Chinese. I didn't see any other programming books right off, so I tried to figure out what the rest of the books were. As it turned out, they were primarily dictionaries. Dictionaries of technical terms. Several shelves of them. So, my first hypothesis is that if you want to learn a technical discipline, first you learn English, then read English books with the aid of a dictionary.

I had a brilliant co-worker once who learned French by reading a C programmer's guide, written in French. By the time he worked his way through the book, he couldn't speak any French, but he was a fluent reader. So perhaps Chinese students in technical disciplines take a similar approach. Or, perhaps there is a technical library someplace.

It was 2pm and jetlag descended upon me like a ton of bricks. Eliza, perhaps sensing this, found us a table. Everywhere we had walked I noticed students here and there sound asleep at their tables. The library was well supplied with identical tables and small wooden chairs. As I sat down, I noticed that they did not seem accommodating to sleeping. No matter. Imitating many other library patrons, I slumped over the table and entered into a deep, if somewhat sticky, rest.

Ahhh, the comfort of a library.