"I was basically dragged over here," says Wang Chuan-ya, short-haired and plain-spoken, bemoaning the helplessness that comes with being the child of a Taiwanese businessperson in China. When her parents decided to move to China 15 years ago, the then-four-year-old Wang was the only child to come with them. Her brother, in sixth grade at the time, refused to leave, and was left in Taiwan with his grandmother.
While in elementary school, she would return to Taiwan during summer vacation to visit her grandma in Taoyuan. This continued until she started junior high, when she finally admitted to herself the reality that she lived in the mainland now, a reality she is comfortable with now: "I've lived in Beijing 15 years, I'm practically half Beijinger."
Now in her second year as a student of human resources at Renmin University of China, Wang recalls her past school life: since international schools in Beijing were few, she had to go to local elementary and high schools, and since her parents were always busy and she was never much for studying, her grades lagged behind and she tended to slack off. After sitting the high-school entrance exam, Wang was accepted into Tsing Hua High School, but it soon seemed like orders had come down from on high demanding a "tightening" of policy on accepting Taiwanese students, and her acceptance was revoked. Her mother and father ultimately had to call in some favors and pull some strings, getting her accepted into the Affiliated High School of Peking University.
Wang says that while acceptance rate to college of students from Peking University's high school is not as high as that from Renmin University's school, the quality of students is high. Additionally, the school is relatively liberal, disallowing teachers from setting extra classes during weekends and expecting students to do some self-guided study. Wang invested much time in extracurricular activities, including joining the broadcasting club. Every morning the teachers and students would do 30 minutes of exercise in the field, and Wang organized the music that accompanied them, while at noon she worked on newscasts. "It was so much fun," she remembers.
At the time, Wang was one of only four Taiwan-born students at her school. Later, one moved to Canada, while the other two returned to Taiwan for college. She was the only one left; "Well, this is where all my parents' work is after all."
For her choice of first-tier colleges, Wang chose Peking University and Renmin University of China (RUC). In the second tier were Capital University of Economics and Business and Capital Normal University, but as she understood it, they wouldn't even consider you if they weren't your first choice.
Scoring just over 400 in her written test and not doing spectacularly overall in the college entrance exam, Wang was sure she was headed for one of her second-tier schools. To her surprise, she tested into RUC, renowned as the "cradle of future government officials." As shocked as she was, Wang says that her mother was even happier.
RUC had only taken on two Taiwanese students the previous two years before suddenly taking on 20 that year then six the following. Wang laughs as she says that the story going around was there must have been some computer error with the quota tracking.
Spending her entire educational life in China, Wang was particularly impacted upon by her politics courses. "I don't like the whole 'one-party-rule' system, but I can't help but be impressed by how well they've 'brainwashed' the kids here." Ever since she was a child, Wang has inevitably ended up in arguments with her classmates about Taiwan. Surprisingly, with access to information tightly regulated in Beijing, many young people Wang's age are utterly unaware of the fact that the Republic of China has its own flag, anthem, and constitution, and referred to Chen Shui-bian as the "self-proclaimed" president.
Despite being one of the few Taiwanese in a sea of Chinese since she was young, Wang says she still identifies strongly with her Taiwanese roots. Some friends from Hong Kong even described her as "the most Taiwanese Taiwanese." Not being one to put her homeland, Greater China, or American-born Chinese on a pedestal like her classmates, Wang has led what she refers to as "a cockroach's life," staying strong-willed and doing what she must to get by.
As far as her plans after her graduation are concerned, Wang says "Mom and Dad want me to start with the basics, and also hope I can carry on to higher education." RUC requires students to complete 171 credits to graduate, with each credit equating to a 90-minute class. While the credit requirements are high, many of the courses are retreads of previous high-school classes, like ones on the philosophy of Mao Zedong and ones on contemporary Chinese history. Wang occasionally skips these classes, preferring instead to focus her energies on her specialist subjects.
"Once I graduate, I'm either going abroad or heading into the workplace," says Wang, looking to the future.