The life of a Chinese student (part 1)

Sucks. I initially thought.
Being based on the university campus has the disadvantage of leading a somewhat artificial life within the Enclosure; everything to meet basic needs is within short walking distance so going behind the gates (and encountering manic traffic) always feels a bit of an effort. We (the foreigners) are in a different derelict building and thank god for that. Living in a squalid, tiny room with other five students and sharing a bathroom with many more is not appealing.
However being on campus has many ups, such as cheap meals and quite a few free classes. But so far the real privilege has been being able to observe the daily life of a Chinese student. Their chores seem to be never ending; I see students up and about from 6am, we leave them behind at the hospital when it is lunch time and in the evening quite a few are still in the classrooms studying when I am more than ready to chill out.
I recently sat in a couple of lectures on the Shang Han Lun. Perhaps breaking into is more of an appropriate term as those classes were not part of the scholarship deal. But learning justifies it all (and having italian blood helps too). On top of that I do need to get some adrenaline rush from somewhere since my coffee making attempts  without a gas hob have been so far pathetic to say the least. 
It all began with a nerve wracking interrogation from the lecturer who would call out random names. The selected victims were expected to recite out loud verses from the original text; the tension was so palpable that from my hiding place I started worrying I would hear my name.  After the torture was over, a few students at the back collapsed one by one and literally went to sleep and I started sweating as they were my shield. The studious ones at the front continued frantically taking notes while I kept trying to deal with a language that was beyond my capabilities and all my gadgets at once (camera to take pics of slides, recorder and dictionary) without being seen. A painful but interesting experience. 
Students got fed information, more than the average Western student will ever dream of, like a mass production of foie gras. No space for discussion nor questions, unless they came from the teacher.
That same subdued atmosphere applies to the hospital settings; students don't say a word unless requested but follow the doctors/teachers around. While I appreciate the value of being quiet and learning from observation, I also often witnessed the shortcomings of relying on memorisation alone as the main studying method.  
I was expecting this sort of set up but I nevertheless found myself more than once wanting to shake the sharp looking ones in an attempt to bring them back to life. But then I had to remind myself that Chinese medicine is no novelty here and they are just (very young) students and as such probably only trying to go through hoops in the least painful way.

So, up to a certain point, I thought looking at those overworked and lifeless Chinese students living in s*** holes…your life sucks…
Until I went to the ‘ Crazy English Club’.
To be continued…