Sands Institute Brings the CCP to UNLV

Las Vegas, that neon-lit Sodom of the desert, is about to get a jolt of crimson from the Far East. A few months from now, the University of Nevada, Las Vegas—UNLV to the locals—will toss open the doors to its Sands Institute for Chinese Language and Culture, a shiny new toy straight out of the People’s Republic playbook.

The man in charge, Chris Heavey, can hardly contain his glee. “Philosophy and history!” he crows, like a carny barking up the latest sideshow. “New programs for the kids to sink their teeth into!”

Heavey’s got a point, though, if you squint hard enough. Vegas and China? Thick as thieves. The tourists swarm in from Beijing and Shanghai, flashing cash and filling the slots–while the convention racket hums along on the backs of Sino-American handshakes.

They’ve already kicked off–with free Mandarin classes—gratis, no less—like a cultural soup kitchen. “Conversational Mandarin!” Heavey bellows, grinning like a man who sold you a timeshare. A week in, and the suckers are already lining up.

The real kicker? They’re shipping the bright-eyed undergrads straight to the motherland. Study abroad, they call it—dunking the kids headfirst into the steaming wok of Communist China. UNLV’s faculty, bless their tenured souls, spent two summers traipsing around the Middle Kingdom, hobnobbing with the Reds and laying the groundwork. Sun Yat-sen University in Guangzhou—a big-time research joint—is the headliner, the lead partner in this little dance. It’s all academic, they swear, but you can smell the yuan from here.

Jenny Koo, queen bee of Nevada’s Chinese Association, is practically vibrating with pride. “Rich heritage!” she declares, waving her arms like she’s conducting an orchestra of ancient ghosts. She’s got visions of tea bowls—800, 1,000 years old—dazzling the Rubes–who thought Chinese culture was just dragons and dumplings.

Koo’s licking her chops. “Economics! Business!” she chants. A bridge–she says—a bridge for the tourists, the community, and maybe a few fat trade deals while we’re at it.

The whole shebang’s landing at UNLV’s Maryland admin building, right where Flamingo Road and Maryland Parkway collide. And who’s footing the bill? The Las Vegas Sands, naturally, coughing up a cool $15 million to keep the lights on and the incense burning. It’s a slick move—capitalism with a side of CCP Confucianism, served hot and fast in the desert sun.

So here we are, folks: the red dragon’s clawing its way into the American West, one free language class at a time. Heavey and Koo are all smiles, the students packing their bags, and the Sands counting its chips.

Me? I’ll be watching from the sidelines, sipping something, while wondering how long it takes for the culture to curdle. It’s Vegas, after all, where everything’s a gamble.