But what about Mongolia??

Yes. We were there . . . and the account of those days are trapped on my (heretofore) trusty netbook in technology never-never land. In trying to upload pictures to post (a continuing battle on this journey) a malfunction occurred that even my go-to-guys for all things computer (Zach and Quint) couldn’t fix. Alas.

So for now I yield to the whims of technology and the ‘no-promises’ that comes with travel. It’s all good . . . and all a lesson in not being too attached to ‘stuff’ or to the illusion of control. (Also a lesson, perhaps, in backing up your work.) So come back later for the chapter on Mongolia. Meanwhile, thanks to the services of an internet cafe (1000 kip for every 10 minutes); let me tell you about Laos.

Only 16 of us continued for the week in Laos after the end of our China trek. At the Beijing airport sad good-byes were given to the eight who were catching flights back home to summer school, jobs or other travels: Anna, Andrew, Amy, Court, Katy, Victor, Riley and Katrina. Our group seemed suddenly small with tangible holes in our fabric filled only by the distinctive personalities of our missing travel mates.

Laos, or Lao, as those who live here actually call it, is China’s land-locked neighbor to the south. The entire population of this country (6 million) is less than half the population of the city of Shanghai where we began our journey. I like the lessons that come through contrasts and from Shanghai to Laos, the contrasts are profound.

It took three flights to get us here: First, from Beijing to Kunming in the south of China. Second, from Kunming to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. In Vientiane we boarded a small propeller plane (another ‘first’ for most of this group) for a fanciful flight over thatch-roofed villages, rice fields, jungled and mountainous countryside into the town of Luang Prabang. It is hard to fathom what this tiny county did to earn the sad distinction of being the most heavily bombed county in modern history. More bombs were dropped on Laos during the Vietnam conflict than on all of Europe combined during WWII.

We have come here at the invitation of Vansana Nolintha and his family. A Caldwell Fellow, Vansana heads this fall to graduate school in Ireland. He attributes the influence of growing up in post-war Laos as a compelling force for his choice of graduate studies in peace and conflict resolution. It is my second time here, having come at the end of our Fellows trip to Thailand, three years ago. I have happily anticipated a return visit to the graciousness of this country and the Nolintha family.

CHINA and LAOS: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS
Some snapshots of the contrasts between the two countries of this journey seem a most fitting way to describe Laos.

Food: We were content enough with food in China, especially the dumplings. The family style meal we shared each day had its own special charm. Twelve of us each around a circular table, typically with a ‘lazy-Susan’ style tray in the center. Dish after dish of food trickled out in the arms of servers until the center would heave with dishes of all manner of Chinese concoction. It was a challenge to eat even half the food put before us at each meal; bounty of food simply seemed to be the norm, it wasn’t that we didn’t eat with gusto. Aside from the occasional dish or our journey into Mongolia where we literally sweated over Mongolia hot-pot, Chinese food did leave some of with a longing for spicy food.

Food in Laos met that longing and exceeded it. Aside from the fundamental similarities of a prevalence of rice and the continuing scarcity of dairy foods, Lao cuisine much more resembles Thai food than Chinese, complete with a bounty of fresh herbs and hot peppers.

A small book with blank pages has been making its way around our group during our final week. We call it The Book of Firsts with each page an entry of a ‘first time’ experience someone has had on this trip. Thanks to a memorable lunch of beef basil and its generous portion of hot peppers, Quint can now claim his first experience of literally crying his way through a meal.

‘Lao Coffee’ would be another first for most of us. Strong dark coffee is only half of it. .. the distinctive ingredient is a layer of sweetened condensed milk in the bottom of the cup. It is usually a sweet surprise at the bottom of a first cup, after that you learn to stir before you drink.

We all find ourselves strangely missing chopsticks here. They had become second nature and using a fork now seems odd.

Transportation
One can easily walk most of Luang Prabang. For farther distances, ‘tuk tuks’ are the taxis of this town, a three-wheeled motor vehicle with covered extension on the back and two benches facing each other. Like China, motorcycles and bicycles dominate. While Laos gets my vote for best food, China wins hands for efficient transport in the rain. Drivers on a rainy day in Laos are hunched forward with an umbrella at 45 degrees to shield the on-coming rain; backsides are often wet. In the event that two people are on the vehicle, the driver has choice of two luxuries: either one umbrella and two hands on the steering wheel, or two umbrellas and a drier ride.

As for China, I loved a rainy day just to see the sea of purple, green, blue and yellow ponchos that emerged . . . and not like any ponchos I’d ever seen. Someone stands to make a small fortune to export the Chinese rain poncho, designed big enough to fit snugly over the front and rear of a vehicle, with slits for the side view mirrors and a clear strip of plastic for the headlight. Tucked underneath are a dry driver and his parcels. I had fun searching traffic to spot a pair of little legs dangling beneath a rain poncho, the only sign that an otherwise invisible child was onboard.

Religion
China, particularly in its urban centers, has a striking absence of religious structures and influence. While religious practice is now tolerated, it is not prevalent. In contrast, Laos is distinctly Buddhist. Orange-robed monks are a picturesque and common site and temples, or ‘wats,’ are numerous. Our deep immersion into Buddhist ritual came with the correlation of our visit with a grand twice-in-a lifetime ceremony at the Nolintha home. It stretched out over two days. The three hundred guests included a cadre of monks, our group, countless family members and friends and even the Governor of the province and the country’s cultural ambassador to Vietnam. The Laotians looked elegant in their traditional dress and our guys broke out the new suits which each had tailor-made while we were in Beijing. Two meals were part of the festivities. We dined under white tents erected on the Nolintha’s lawn in front of their spacious home. Laotian dancers preformed to the band playing traditional music. In due time, we were all dancing . . . Laotians and Americans together. They sang for us . . . we sang for them . . . toasts were made . . . language barriers became incidental.

We leave Laos with the artifacts of the final ritual of the two days, a baasi ceremony. For three days we will wear the many bracelets of white string which adorn each of our forearms, the bracelets tied there by the Nolinthas, their friends and family. Each strand represents the blessing of the person who tied it there, and with it their wish for our safe travel, our good health and happiness, and their wish that some day we return again to Luang Prabang.

Snapshots from MongoliaThe ladies pose for a picture after arriving at the Mongolian Yurt-Ranch.

The China Fellows exploring the Gobi Desert.

Brian wrestling a Mongolian herdsman.

Snapshots from Laos

The Fellows with Van at his family's ceremony.

Vansana's family and our hosts in Laung Prabang

BEIJING: "Oh the Mei Geo Ren. . ."

The Great Wall. . . . The Forbidden City. . . . The Summer Palace. . . . The Ming Tombs Tiananmen Square. . . . The 2008 Olympic Village. . . . So many images of China are connected to this city, and we did them all. Beijing gave us our immersion into Chinese history and if one common adjective had to describe all these sites, the word ‘immense’ easily applies. The grand and imposing feel of these places so representative of China, parallels my larger sense of China in general.

These vast spaces held countless fellow tourists, predominantly Chinese seeing their own country. Faces of westerners stand out in the hoards and we were surprised to find ourselves also a featured spectacle as we moved through the sites of Beijing. Many would call to us, practicing their English greeting, “Hello! Hello!” Perhaps it was the size of our group, large enough to be noticed, or perhaps it is the youth, attractiveness and exuberance of the students, but it became our own amusement to observe how often the cameras of tourists were turned towards us. Some folks would pose at the edge of our group so as to get themselves in the picture snapped by their companions. The boldest would single out one just one of us and request that they pose for a photo. There were repeated targets so it was a fun side-line to keep score of who had the most photo shoots of the day. Among our guys Riley, Wren, and Quint had the height and the looks that drew the attention of many Chinese women, who also relished posing alongside them. Who knows how many tabletops or bulletin boards in China now hold pictures of our guys.

Katie and Anna were the favored female targets. And because Anna speaks Chinese fluently and has the fair skin so coveted in China, she received a few marriage proposals as well. (She is returning single to the States however, having declined all offers.) In this country we are Mei Geo Rens . . . Chinese for Americans; it is what we laughingly all now call ourselves.

The Great Wall
Somehow it’s June 13th. Somehow I’m in China, and by some great miracle I am going to see the Great Wall of China today. As a 19 year old girl, I am seeing things some people couldn’t dream of seeing. And those who dream so heavily of seeing may not, while I have never dreamed of such and then this opportunity was dropped at my doorstep. How do I process this? How do I conceptualize this opportunity? I will soak it up and feel the greatness.

This excerpt from one of the trip journals captures the excitement we felt heading out of the city to spend a picture perfect day hiking the Great Wall. The only shortcoming is that it just wasn’t enough time so when Andrew, one of the seniors in our group who had earlier spent a semester in Beijing, told of his prior experience of camping on the Wall, half of our group was determined to do the same. I opted out. It seemed responsible of me to stay available if the authorities called me to come deal with a bunch of Mei Geo Rens discovered on the Wall in the wee hours. I thankfully never got that call.

The campers had chosen a remote stretch of the Wall and set out in two teams. After a bus and taxi rides, the groups arrived, unknowingly, at opposite ends of the targeted stretch of Wall and each began their hike thinking the others were in front or behind them. Then in the dimming light of sunset each team spotted another group cross the great expanse of wall. They suspected these could be their buddies. One group used a telephoto lens but couldn’t confirm any identities, except for a glow that resembled the neon green mohawk of Ben. Then one group initiated a call across the wide expanse. Together they hollered, “Wolf!” and listened to their voices echo out across the hills. A pause, and then it came back to them, the response they had been looking for . . . “Pack!” Back and forth they then carried on . . . Wolf . . . Pack . . . shouted across the distance in what was surely the first NC State pep rally on China’s Great Wall.

The Night Market
Night Markets are quite the deal in so many countries . . . life and liveliness abounds where stalls sell all manner of street food, handcrafts and everything from batteries to bullfrogs. The Beijing Market has the feel of the fair to me . . . colorful lights are strung above our heads and down different alleys one can find various styles of music performed, dancing women, and a man telling stories for which you can pay to look inside a large box and see paper cut figures that enact his words. In the Beijing Night market, Katrina potted the small candied apples on a skewer that are so popular in China and, as she reminded us, that we had learned about from the key role they play in the film Farewell My Concubine which we watched together in preparation for this trip. (A film I highly recommend for capturing China’s history in the twentieth century and the influential role of Peking Opera in the culture. . . and if you’re ever in the Night Market try the apples as well. I especially recommend the ones that have been cored and have a walnut tucked in the center. Such deliciousness.)

While I was relishing apples, others were in such of more adventuresome fare and the Beijing Market can deliver. Some of the ‘foods’ and smells we encountered were far beyond appetizing , but we are mesmerized with the range of options. We had a kick with one vendor who looked like a character out of Mario Brothers (it is odd to see a Chinese man with a mustache) who jovially banters with us the news of what he is selling . . . the parts of a sheep unique to only a male of the species. Quint opts for something a bit more tame . . . and skewer of scorpions.

The Temple of Heaven
It was my favorite and most surprising place in Beijing. I was prepared for another Temple, and what I got was an experience of Beijing community. This is where the locals come to do their thing . . . whatever it may be. Walking through the grounds you move from dynamic experience to the next, each right into the next. The crowd are middle aged to older adults but the air is alive with ageless energy. We walk through Tai Chi ball (a variation on the disciplined moves of Tai Chi with racketball sized rackets and a ball), line dancing, ballroom dancing (one of the favorite forms of exercise here and they are good ), salsa dance lessons with a striking male teacher with a headset microphone and white dance leotards, a choir practice, games of dominoes and cards, flute players, opera singers, and clusters of instrumentalists in what resemble American bluegrass pick up bands. Under a grouping of trees I com e across people gathered around postings of paper hung on the trees or laid about underneath. The folks are bartering and I have obviously come across some kind of exchange, I just can’t figure what is the market item. Back on the bus our tour guide answers my question.. . oh that was the Marriage Mart, he reports. Parents go there to post notices about their eligible children and to arrange potential meetings. Jason also wandered through the Marriage Mart where a broker took him for a good eligible candidate and offered to be his agent for finding a wife. So far Jason is still with us.

The Bird’s Nest
Something magical happened when we visited the central site of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. There in the midst of other tourists and large figures dressed like the Olympic mascots, mega screens playing highlights of the Olympics, and a ground crew erecting staging for an upcoming performance at the stadium . . . we played. Out of pockets came the feathered hacky sack like game toy that many of our group now carried with them, having learned to play from the local folks who come out each night near our hotel for several hours of skillful competition. Just as our guys had joined in playing the game with the neighborhood locals, other tourists join our guys to play. Play is a universal language.

We pass a delightful hour and a half giddy with the awareness that we are jumping and playing in a space that has seen such athletic greatness. Another journal excerpt captures it so well: We are in the Olympic Stadium. It’s a happy, happy place. Caldwell Fellows need an open field so our playful hearts can just let go. I believe all of us are children at heart. Maybe it’s because we work so hard and are so efficient at our lives that letting go is equally important to us all. It was effortless for us to just start turning cart wheels, making pyramids, laughing and singing. We were HEAVILY photographed by the Chinese tourists and that is an understatement. Oh, the Mie Geo Rens.

Katie, Van, Lauren and Dane climbing the Great Wall of China.

The view from the Great Wall

Kris & Amy at the Beijing Night Market

Andrew & Dr. Odom at Tienanmen Square

A Glimpse Into the Fellows' Travel Journals

One of the common denominators of this trip (and all Caldwell Fellows trips) is that everyone keeps a journal, each in one’s own style. In one of our pre-trip sessions, we explored how to use journaling as a means of reflection, more than a simple record of activities. Folks have taken the recommendation to bring unlined journals and not to be confined by the routine of filling in lines of text. What has emerged is a collection of well-worn books of various size and style tucked under arms and into backpacks as we move through our days. They bulge with mementos (ticket stubs, receipts, random artifacts) pasted in among written words and sketches. We have a fair number of design students among us whose propensity to fill their books with sketches has rubbed off on everyone else. We talk about sketching as a vehicle to paying attention to detail and to “being present.” Being in a place of such grand sights, we cannot escape the fact that part of who we are here is being tourists. So, we strive to redefine how to be a good tourist.

Here are excerpts from a few journals:

***

What is autism? More importantly, how does one cope with a person with autism? How does a child or adult with autism cope and interact?

I sat there with four Caldwells, four children and five teachers. The teachers wore matching pink polo shirts, standing out against the brightly colored walls, tables, chairs and bookshelves. The tables had scars from previous battles against an array of colored markers. Each child was 4 or 5 years old and wearing a navy blue uniform, reminding me of what a sailor would wear. We sat among the kids as they trained their hands and eyes, making bracelets with bright colored beads and turning dough and a mixture of vegetables and pork into the tasty art of dumplings.

The children would talk, some more than others, yet not to each other. The teachers are like mentors, mothers, guides. They are playmates and providers of comfort. Tiny hands push into the dough, feeling the inside of the wet, floury ball.

I helped one kid with his bracelet, handing him beads. He would grab them out of my hand and say “sank you,” one of the few things he would say along with his numbers 1 through 10. “Sank you,” he would say in his soft little voice. He would repeat it again, “sank you.” “Sank you.” He loved the phrase, repeating it primarily for his own ears to hear. Each time he would say it a soft giggle followed, just a small one, a soft one, before another bead fell down the string.

What was the point of a day with these kids . . . . an experience for them? . . . . or an experience for me? -Wren

***

When I first arrived, I was placed with the least responsive child, a 5-year-old boy with severe autism. My initial reaction was to want to be with the most responsive, alert child – maybe I thought I would get the most out of it and feel accomplished and warm inside from all the interaction. After two hours by the side of this child, making bracelets and dumplings (he wanted to eat the raw dough and apparently my finger), exercising and feeding him lunch, I felt blessed to be able to work so closely with this child. His hands, they always wanted my hands. His voice only produced one word. His face was serious and poised, until it began recognizing my face. His little hands and voiceless presence gave me so much more. -Katrina

***

“The first time we meet we are strangers, the second time we are friends.” -old Chinese saying quoted to us by members of the Hangzhou Charity organization.

***

Experiences are like stars. They shine on their own with their own light, but it is not till you start to connect them into constellations that they really start to mean something. -Van

***

The Chinese college student I am having tea with is a real leader on his campus. He is doing a lot of service but coming from a sense of duty and obligation to his country and to his people. What a different and interesting framework . . . . How do I perceive myself in these China experiences? I hope to understand better my relationship to myself. China takes me out of my usual context . . . . to breathe new life. – Dane

***

Shanghai possessed an unprecedented energy. Maybe it was the lights or the constant bustle of people, 24 hours a day. Maybe it was the vertical race the skyline participates . . . . Whatever it may be, this city is experiencing a monumental time in history. I felt it in the streets, in the contrast of beggars and businessmen who represent the economical gap in society as communism fades and market forces take over. I felt it as I looked down from 88 stories high into the foundation going up of the tallest building yet for this city. At this turning point, I am blessed to be present to observe all of this.

As I ride past villages in rural areas, it is important to recognize that in China, just like other parts of the world, there are different ways of living. The metropolitan lifestyle in the cities may be “civilized” or “materialized,” but that alone does not constitute happiness or quality of life. -Kristin

***

While language appears to separate humans across the globe . . . . I attempt to defray that gap through drawing. (Written in the journal under a sketch of a Home Sweet Home resident, with his signature beside it). -Kristin

Kristin Cunningham

The (Mid)Night Train to Beijing

Oh where are Gladys Night and the Pips?? If you have the good fortune to be old enough (age is revered here in China, you know) you may recall “Midnight Train to Georgia” (one of Motown’s greatest hits). Since I occasionally think it would be hilarious if life were actually a musical (I hold out as a defender of musicals among the front table crowd at Cup a Joe). . . Gladys Knight would have been on board the night train to Beijing with us, with some lyric variations, of course.

Gladys was the only missing feature on the otherwise surprisingly charming ride from Hangzhou to Beijing. A splendid rule for ensuring good travel is the Rule of Low Expectations. Practicing low expectations means that anything ‘more’ that comes along turns into a delightful surprise. My other experience on a night train riding across Thailand had already set a very low bar of expectation: a night of little rest on a sparse and rattley train. In stark contrast, here I sit in the early morning after an excellent night’s sleep. The ride is smooth enough that I sit with laptop resting easily on a linen topped table next to the window (the curtain sheers pulled aside for the view). The table also holds a thermos of hot water (standard fare for your tea drinking needs), a flower filled vase, a cut-glass plate, and a small collection of glossy magazines. Katie is still sleeping on the bunk above me; Kris and Lauren are nestled into their bunk across the small aisle in our private 4-sleeper car.

In fourteen hours we have traveled from Hangzhou to Beijing. The third city of our China venture approaches outside my window.

"Speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil!"
Dane, Kristin and Dr. Odom on the train to Mongolia.

The Hangzhou Cultural Scene

Our stay in Hangzhou is our longest time in one place on this trip, time enough to sample a variety of cultural experiences.

WEST LAKE

For a mere 2 yuan, (about 30 cents) the city bus will take you to West Lake for a stroll on the scenic walkway which winds its twelve miles of shoreline. Benches and cafes tempt you to just hang out. The second floor of a coffee shop overlooking the lake became a favorite hangout for our group, particularly on one of the several rainy days in Hangzhou. Once folks discovered the secret to renting bicycles, sunny days were given to bike rides around the lake.

TAI CHI

Her name is May and she is about 4 inches shorter than my towering 5’3”. She looks like a China doll and intimidated every person in our group. May is a Tai Chi Master.

May gave us a two hour introductory Tai Chi lecture and demonstration. We learned of its roots in the warrior culture, its transformation to a spiritual discipline by Buddhist monks and its popularization in the west by Bruce Lee and the epic Kung Fu movies. (May is clearly a Bruce Lee fan. . . she even showed us footage of him as a young martial arts competitor before he became a film star, along with some favorite films clips). We practiced basic moves which were surprisingly more difficult than they looked, giving us even greater respect for Bruce Lee. . . and for May.

At the end of our lesson, May graciously invites any of us who wish to join her for Tai Chi practice at 6:30 each morning. Five of us: Dane, Ben, Candis, Van and I took on the challenge, some of us for a sample, some of us every day. Dane and I hung in for the duration. For five days May coached us through the same basic moves. For two days we talked about how difficult and humbling it was. My mind and body felt disconnected as I struggled with the elusive task of moving with the discipline and artistry May embodied. Gradually, with repetition, at the end it finally happened. . . the ability to coordinate the alignment of all parts of the body , each part in its given way, while gliding across the courtyard, peacefully. We had only managed one basic move but the words of ‘good job’ coming from our Tai Chi Master for a week in China were a sweet reward.

KARAOKE

You may think you know Karaoke. . . but anything in the US that passes as Karaoke doesn’t count. You have to do it in China. Far more than a bar room pastime, Karaoke is its own destination. KTB is a large Karaoke franchise and the one where we spent an evening in Hangzhou. It was one of several outings we shared with the other NC State group and a collection of Chinese students from Zhejiang University.

KTB consumes a space equal in size to the main floor of one of those anchor stores at the mall. In the glitzy lobby you purchase rental for one of the many private rooms in this complex. Our crowd of 50 or so folks rents 5 rooms. Each seats 10 to 12 folks on one grand couch that rings three quarters of the room. The fourth wall is reserved for the large screen television monitor that plays your selection from the consol of seemingly infinite choices from traditional Chinese opera to the more favored popular music of both Chinese and American genre. Subtitles give translations in whatever language you select (Chinese, English, Japanese and Korean being your choices). Changing colored lights in 1970s style pop design add further inspiration to those with performer fantasies. And yes, there is a microphone.

The couch encircles a coffee table which provides ample space for the trays of food or beverage you can bring to your room from KTB’s expansive cafeteria or bar. We have come at 5 pm for the early bird special price which gives us dinner tickets and three hours of room rentals, far below rental prices from 8 pm until 2 or 3 in the morning when the Karaoke joint is packed out.

Many of the American tunes are noted as ‘popularized’ by a certain artist, with a different voice rendering the song. Sometimes a look alike of the artist is the performer. (John Lennon’s double convinced one of our group that he was the real deal; I attribute this affront to the Beatles to the misfortune of her youth.) Some songs do feature the original artists, but are accompanied by random video footage, most often of an attractive western woman posing in some variation of sumptuous or love-lorn, in a scenic location. My favorite random match is a stylish blond in an ostentatious European palace matched to John Denver’s "Thank God I’m a Country Boy.”

In the room where our faculty group has cloistered a discussion carries on about these techniques as a skirting of copyright and piracy issues. Not that you think us total dolts, we do pitch in together for belting out our favorite classic rock tunes.

WEST LAKE IMPRESSIONS

Our last night In Hangzhou we set out with for an evening at “West Lake Impressions.” The show is outdoors, literally on the lake, so the threat of rain throughout the day has me distracted by the idea that the performance would be canceled and we would miss THE acclaimed experience of Hangzhou. The show is the by the artist who created the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. With memories still powerful of viewing the ceremonies from a perch on the edge of my couch, I would willingly eat a platter of chicken feet, in the rain, to see more. . . and in person.

I am not disappointed. Holy Smokes. I cannot do justice to the imagination, color, artistry, and wonder of it all. The cast of hundreds, together with staging and lights and music transformed the lake’s expanse into a multi-dimensional panorama. A stage set just under the water’s surface, gave the performers seemingly magical powers to walk on water. There was a story being conveyed about two star crossed lovers (a universal theme). The program book contains the story line, with the awkward English translation to which we have become accustomed; but we get the gist of it.

Suffice it to say I’ve never witnessed anything quite like it.

As for the rain? It did sprinkle on us a bit but for a water experience it somehow seemed appropriate. Anyway, thanks to the packaged ponchos given us upon arrival we were dry in our sea of green, pink, blue and purple plastic. Of great amusement (and yet another juxtaposition of cultures at this very Chinese event) were the smiling faces of models wearing ponchos on the packages: photo shopped faces of none other than Tom Cruise and Britney Spears.

Lauren, Katrina, Riley, Quint, Brian, Kristin, Victor, Vansana and Kris
stop for a picture while on a bike trip around West Lake.

Some of the students in a music class the China Fellows
helped to teach on a trip to a rural Hangzhou school.

The China Fellows pose for a picture with a organization in Hangzhou that
specializes in helping professionals get involved in the community.

Celebrating Amy's Birthday at Grandma's Kitchen in Hangzhou.

More Photos from the Shanghai Alumni Dinner

Janice Odom and Yipeng Yang

Vansana Nolintha and Xinbing Wang

Amy Stepp and William Arnold (son of Jim Arnold)

Miranda speaking with a group of Fellows

More conversation at the alumni dinner

Fellows listen to a speaker at the Shanghai dinner

Another speaker at the alumni dinner

Another speaker at the alumni dinner

More conversation at the alumni dinner

NC State Alumni Gathering in Shanghai

Caldwell Fellows and the Shanghai alumni

Janice Odom with the Shanghai alumni

Quint Reid and Tao Liu

Jim Arnold and Zach Clawson

Caldwell Fellow Victor Brozovsky and China Fellow Candis Shiflett

Jeff Song, Ph.D. Corporate Vice President and President China for Ingersoll Rand, addressing the group in Shanghai