American students are getting cold feet about studying Chinese in China, with many study abroad program in the country seeing a substantial drop in enrollment over the last few years.
At the University of California Education Abroad Program (UCEAP), student enrollment in programs in China are expected to be less than half the level they were only four years ago. Washington-based CET, another leading study abroad group, says interest in China has been falling since 2013.
The apparent waning of interest worries some China watchers. Given the importance of the US-China relationship, having a group of Americans across different industries who speak Chinese and understand the culture is “a matter of national interest,” says Robert Daly, director of the Kissinger Institute on China and the United States at the Wilson Center in Washington.
Photo: REUTERS
“We can’t respond coherently, effectively and fully to China unless we understand China on its own terms,” he said.
The Institute of International Education says the number of US students studying in China fell 3.2 percent in 2012 to 2013 to 14,413, even as overall study abroad numbers rose modestly.
American students’ apparent loss of interest contrasts with Chinese students’ clamor for a US education. The number of Chinese studying in the United States jumped 16.5 percent in 2013 to 2014 to more than 274,000.
LESS NEED FOR FOREIGNERS
For US students, China’s notorious pollution is a concern. Job opportunities are another. As multinationals in China hire mostly local Chinese, a growing percentage of whom have studied abroad, they have less need for foreigners who speak Chinese.
“I came to China thinking I could learn Chinese and get a high paying job. I learned very quickly that was not the case,” said Ian Weissgerber, a 25-year-old American graduate student in China. “A lot of Chinese can speak English just as well as I can, and Chinese is their native tongue too.”
Gordon Schaeffer, research director at UCEAP, says surveys suggest the decline in study abroad programs in China might also reflect students’ migration to science and technology majors, where courses need to be taken in sequence.
Some study abroad executives say a move towards more direct enrollment in Chinese universities could also, in part, account for fewer students taking traditional programs that typically offer a summer or semester overseas.
Wang Huiyao, president of the Center for China and Globalization and the author of a report on foreign students in China, says there are too few agents in the United States bringing students to China to study, and bemoans the US government’s inability to force universities to send more American students there.
NO PAY-OFF?
When students do come to China, they are increasingly coming for shorter periods of time, and often for trips that involve more travel than language study, study abroad executives say.
After a burst of enthusiasm a decade ago, interest in learning Chinese appears to be waning among US students. Enrollment in entry level Chinese is almost half the level of 2007 at Middlebury College, a private liberal arts college in Vermont renowned for its language instruction.
Last year’s total Chinese enrollment was “the lowest in a decade,” said Professor Thomas Moran, chair of Middlebury’s Chinese department.
Between 2002 and 2006, Chinese language study at US institutes of higher education jumped 50 percent, according to the Modern Language Association (MLA); it grew a further 16 percent between 2006 and 2009.
But from 2009 to 2013, growth in enrollment had slowed to just 2 percent, an MLA study released last month shows.
Enrollment in all foreign language courses at US higher education institutions fell 6.7 percent between 2009 and 2013, according to the MLA study.
“It really comes down to money,” says John Thomson, a veteran China study abroad executive. “You’re taking yourself out of the job market for a couple years to study an extremely difficult language with no guaranteed pay-off at the end.”
In Taiwan there are two economies: the shiny high tech export economy epitomized by Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC, 台積電) and its outsized effect on global supply chains, and the domestic economy, driven by construction and powered by flows of gravel, sand and government contracts. The latter supports the former: we can have an economy without TSMC, but we can’t have one without construction. The labor shortage has heavily impacted public construction in Taiwan. For example, the first phase of the MRT Wanda Line in Taipei, originally slated for next year, has been pushed back to 2027. The government
July 22 to July 28 The Love River’s (愛河) four-decade run as the host of Kaohsiung’s annual dragon boat races came to an abrupt end in 1971 — the once pristine waterway had become too polluted. The 1970 event was infamous for the putrid stench permeating the air, exacerbated by contestants splashing water and sludge onto the shore and even the onlookers. The relocation of the festivities officially marked the “death” of the river, whose condition had rapidly deteriorated during the previous decade. The myriad factories upstream were only partly to blame; as Kaohsiung’s population boomed in the 1960s, all household
Allegations of corruption against three heavyweight politicians from the three major parties are big in the news now. On Wednesday, prosecutors indicted Hsinchu County Commissioner Yang Wen-ke (楊文科) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), a judgment is expected this week in the case involving Hsinchu Mayor Ann Kao (高虹安) of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) and former deputy premier and Taoyuan Mayor Cheng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) is being held incommunicado in prison. Unlike the other two cases, Cheng’s case has generated considerable speculation, rumors, suspicions and conspiracy theories from both the pan-blue and pan-green camps.
Stepping inside Waley Art (水谷藝術) in Taipei’s historic Wanhua District (萬華區) one leaves the motorcycle growl and air-conditioner purr of the street and enters a very different sonic realm. Speakers hiss, machines whir and objects chime from all five floors of the shophouse-turned- contemporary art gallery (including the basement). “It’s a bit of a metaphor, the stacking of gallery floors is like the layering of sounds,” observes Australian conceptual artist Samuel Beilby, whose audio installation HZ & Machinic Paragenesis occupies the ground floor of the gallery space. He’s not wrong. Put ‘em in a Box (我們把它都裝在一個盒子裡), which runs until Aug. 18, invites