Another "Lovely" Card

I got another cute student card that I couldn't help but pass along. Although there are large chunks that I generally have no idea what he's talking about, I did grasp the meaning of some of it and he couldn't be more thoughtful and kind. Sometimes 7th graders can be so adorable.

Kelly and Ashley (receive)
Peter (delivers)
Approaches a season in this snow falling thickly Christmas day;
I wish Kelly and Ashley can treat in China very am all happy;
Because here has your lovable student; Please do not have to light a fire in the Christmas day night in the stove,
Otherwise you can see to one the old parson cames from Africa;
Please do not have too to think you far in US's family members;
Because China also is your family;
Certainly I also must thank your guidance;
Finally wishes your Christmas to be joyful!
You student: Peter (First day a grade class)
on December 25, 2008

Dear Teacher Ashley, Merry Christmas! From, Your Student

Like teachers in America, I received many kind and thoughtful cards from my students for Christmas. I believe, however, that I received a few greetings and wishes that they did not.

Merry Christmas! I like you. Because you are very lovable. Especially your beautiful blue eyes. Although I am not so lovable, but I very hope and teacher you become a good friend.
Katie, Class 7

Merry Christmas. Beat wishes to you. You classroom is so lively. Send me very happy. You teach send me more like English. Express you happy. Merry Christmas.
Cindy, Class 9

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Dear Ashley:
I’m your student. I’m from class 16, grade 7. My English is not well.
Please excuse me, thank you. I think you are a wonderful teacher, I unforgettble your wings, your smile, your speech, your attend class ways, and your blackboard writing…….
But, I want to pose some suggestions. May you have a class are not sternly. I think your increase obedient. If you think the class will very quiet, you can adopt encourage.
Ok, I know this letter are bad very much, But it’s my regard.
Welcome write back for me.
Last, wish happiness to you. Merry Chirstmas and Happy New Year.
Thank you.
Your student, Chrystal

Only to Ashley… From Maybe
We are friend. Er… Although you are older than me.
Happy X-mas.
Let’s go to the 2009! The New Year is coming!
This winter is very cold.
Please put more clothes.
Don’t ill.
by Maybe

Merry Christmas!
Day Day Up!
You could do better!

Merry Christmas!

Announcing the Discovery of "Inability-to-plan-itis" in Central China

I may have mentioned before that the Chinese are not known for their planning skills. Their trains run late. The ticket sales for the trains is a mess. They don’t have school calendars because they don’t know the schedule of school holidays and breaks until days before. They inform you of rather vital pieces of information about three seconds before it is too late. The list could go on and on, but this is nothing new. So why devote a blog post to it? Here’s why: The inability of my school’s officials to plan reached a new, surprising level today.

A few months ago the English department head told me to start planning a “performance” for Christmas time with the students in my English Corner. English Corner is a select group of students from each class who come for what is essentially an extra oral English class every week. “Come” is a term that is used loosely here as students are more than often absent from English Corner. They typically can’t come to class because they have to do things that their head teacher has deemed more important during the time that my class is scheduled. You may agree that running around the track, cleaning the school, and practicing writing are all far more important than an extra English class held by the most unimportant teacher at the school.

At any rate, I was instructed to produce four “performances” with each of my two English Corners. When I asked what type of “performances” they were looking for, my liaison replied, “Maybe the students can sing, dance, do a skit, or whatever you want. It’s up to you.” Using these loose instructions, I came up with a program for each class. My Tuesday class would sing two Christmas songs, recite a traditional Christmas poem, and present a Christmas themed acrostic and the Thursday class would do a variation on the same.

For the last two months the few students who attend class and I have been working hard to get our acts ready. We’ve drawn, colored, practiced our lines, and learned our lyrics. It was quite a challenge to get the students ready when I couldn’t really be sure who would be on hand from week to week or if a specific student would ever be present again. There were times that I felt like I was being given an impossible task, but I am really pleased with the show that my students and I are ready to put on.

Late Thursday afternoon I found out from my liaison that a rehearsal for the performance was scheduled for the next day and that the students and their parents had been informed that the show would be on the following Monday. When pressed for details, she said that our little shindig would begin at 7:00 pm in the music room. I was give four whole days notice! I should have known it was too good to be true.

Today, I arrived at school ready for the performance in the evening. During my second class of the day a student asked me if we would be practicing the Twelve Days of Christmas at English Corner on Tuesday. I said that we wouldn’t because the performance would be over. “No,” she said, “the performance will not be over. It is not today.” A little confused, I went back to my office after class to find out what was going on. My sitemate, Kelly, informed me that the performances had indeed been postponed. Apparently our liaison told her that there were no free rooms to hold our mini-Christmas pageant. Who in the world schedules a variety show that students and teachers have been working on for months without checking if there are any open rooms, you ask? Chinese middle school officials, that’s who.

When I told my friend, Caroline, the story of the ill planned pageant she knew all too well where I’m coming from. She said, “I think Chinese middle school administrators are allergic to planning ahead… This is what I think our school says sometime, ‘The foreigners want to know what's going on, but we refuse to make firm plans for anything, so let’s just tell them something and change it at the last minute’.” I think she’s right. They have no idea what's going on themselves, so they just make up details to keep us quiet.

I've decided to named this allergy "Inability-to-plan-itis" and plan on setting up a support group nearly next year called Inability-to-plan-itis Anonymous (or ITPA). I'll have to plan everything myself: left to their own devices nothing would ever be scheduled.

The latest news is that the performance will be held, “later this week or next week.” I’m not going to hold my breath.

To breathe or not to breathe? Why is it even a question?

Before coming to China in August, I read many articles like this one on the China’s air quality problem. Leading up to the Beijing Olympics, and even before, it became common knowledge in America that the Chinese were struggling to properly balance economic development and environmental protection, particularlly when it comes to the air. I knew that a "good" air quality day in Beijing is far worse than the worst day in the US and I knew that Zhuzhou was listed as one of the 20 most polluted cities in the world in 2007. I wondered what all these facts actually meant to every day life in China. Would I even notice that the air quality was poorer than what I’m used to?

Apparently I had no idea what poor air quality actually meant. Had I had any semblance of a clue, I wouldn’t have wondered.

During summers past, I remember the local TV station advising it’s viewers on the quality of the air and reminding people with asthma and other respiration problems to stay indoors on bad days. As someone who was not afflicted with lung problems, I never really noticed the difference between a “good” and a “bad” day. Everyday seemed just about the same to me. Times have really changed. Here in China, it doesn’t take an asthma suffer to know whether the neighborhood smelting factories are polluting the air more or less on any given day.

A few months ago I walked to a near-by open market to buy some locally grown fruits and vegetables. On the walk home I noticed that I was panting like I had just run a marathon. True, I was carrying pounds of produce while walking up the street in 90 degree weather and I’m not what you would call “in shape,” but that was just not typical for me. There was a point along the way that I wondered if I was going to make. I began to contemplate abandoning my oranges and cauliflower alongside the road. Ok, it wasn’t that bad, but it sure wasn’t normal. The junk in the air really got the best of me that day.

Carrying produce up the street isn’t a problem any more, as I’ve discovered a bus that covers the exact route from my apartment to the market, but I’m still able to differentiate between a good and bad air quality. Just opening my eyes and looking at the sky is enough to let me know if breathing will be a chore on any given day. On good days, the chemicals and particles in the air go unseen, but on bad days, smog surrounds the city like a blanket over the sky. The sun and any trace of stars are blocked out by the menacing clouds of gunk. It doesn’t take an expert or any fancy tests to know the difference and I don’t think Chinese citizens with lung problems need local news reports to tell them if it’s going to be a difficult day to respire. Though I wish, more for their sake than mine, that they did.

***

(I took the pictured photos on two separate days in order to illustrate the vast difference between a good and a not-so-good day. The tower is barely visible on a true bad day and doesn't even appear in the photo, so showing you would be pointless. You’ll just have to trust me that the pictured "bad" day is more than just an early morning fog.)

Dear Santa

Last week my students all watched a 1930’s Christmas cartoon by Disney called The Night Before Christmas. Disney’s Silly Symphony cartoons from the early to mid twentieth century are prefect for my classes for several reasons. Firstly, they’re all pretty short, only 6-8 minutes, so we can watch them and still have time to do an activity. And secondly, they have little to no talking. As music and pictures are truly international languages, the students understand the videos regardless of their English level, which is always important in the multi-leveled, Chinese classroom.

In the movie the little girl writes a letter to “Santy” asking for a few things, like a doll and a rocking horse. After watching and talking about the cartoon, the students in my classes wrote letters to Santa as well. I had a template letter made up and students filled in things like if they were good or bad this year and what they would like Santa to bring them. While I wasn’t able to read them all, the following is by far the most interesting letter I saw.

Dear Santa,
How are you? I am fine. This year I have been very good. I listened to my father and helped my grandmother clean the toilet when it was very dirty. I would like a lovely puppy for Christmas.
Thank you and Merry Christmas!
From,
Melody

The more I think about it, the more I think Melody must be incredibly intelligent. Not only would her letter certainly catch Santa’s eye, but also would put her securely on the good list. Nobody likes to clean the toilet when it is relatively clean, not to mention when it is “very dirty.” If I was Santa, I would definitely give a dirty-toilet-cleaning-child a “lovely puppy” if she wanted one. Good thinking, Melody!

This message comes to you from the future!

Well, according to Facebook it does.

Friends Don't Let Friends Stare and Walk

A few days ago, my dear friend, Bridget, and I were walking down the street when a woman started to stare at us. As this is nothing new, (read previous post) we thought nothing of it and would probably not remember it today. Except that unfortunately for the woman, she didn’t stop to gawk at us; she kept walking, right into a large box. She toppled headfirst into the empty box and had to be helped out by a friend. Everyone around started to laugh at her while they continued to watch Bridget and I walk away. Apparently we’re more exciting than a woman in a box.

Let that be a lesson to you. Stop walking when you begin to ogle at the next Caucasian you see. Staring and walking don't mix.

I am Mickey Mouse

Imagine you are walking down the street of your hometown and you see Mickey Mouse coming toward you. As you watch, Mickey stops at a street vendor to buy an afterschool snack. He’s just doing everyday, normal things. You don’t worry about staring at the mouse, because it’s not rude, right? He’s the one wearing a huge Mickey Mouse costume and you don’t see that every day, so you might as well get a good look while you can. If you’re with a small child you more than likely point out the large mouse to them. You’ll probably encourage your child to say hello and they’ll have one of two reactions. The child will either become rather frightened or stare with large, excited eyes at Mickey. You might ask to if your child, or you for that matter, could get a quick picture with the superstar. Or maybe you just try to snap a quick picture without asking. You can only hope that your child will remember the day they saw Mickey walking down the street. When you go home that night you might tell your family and friends about how you saw Mickey around town and show them the picture the two of you took together. How exciting!

When in China, I am Mickey Mouse. My Caucasian skin and bone structure serve as my costume. Even my huge feet parallel Mickey’s oversized feet.

From the moment I step out my door in the morning until the second I return home in the evening I am stared at. It’s not that I’m conceded; it’s just a fact of life for a foreigner living in central China. It would happen to you as well if you were here. And sitting at your computer in your American home with insulation and indoor heating, you may think you know how this feels, but unless you are a celebrity, this is almost impossible to imagine. Every single movement you make is scrutinized by the on-looking public. You can’t feel lost, confused, or upset without many other people knowing and commenting to their friends about you. To compound the matter, staring isn’t considered rude in Chinese culture. Thus Chinese people stare unabashedly, the way many Americans would if they saw Mickey Mouse shopping at the local grocery store.

I don’t mention this phenomenon to complain or fuss about it, but rather because I just thought of the Mickey Mouse analogy this morning and I think works quite well. I admit that at first it was bothersome having my every move watched, but I’m over it now. I don’t particularly like everyone watching me all the time, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I might as well not let it trouble me. For the sake of Mickey’s feeling, however, you might consider not staring if you see him at the mall. I know how he feels and he would probably appreciate the short break from stardom.

Morning "Exercises"

I realized quite recently that I hadn’t done any posts on the differences between school life in the US and China. As I spend a significant amount of time each week in a Chinese school, I’m able to note some of these differences daily. This will just be the first in a series of posts centered on the topic of Chinese school life.

Although I’ve only taught at one school, I’m confident that the millions of students all across China, no matter what school they attend, agree on at least on thing; they hate their morning exercises. Every Chinese student is required to gather outside with their class, regardless of the weather, to “exercise” along with the entire school everyday. Once all 3,000 students are out on the “playground” and lined up properly, the students perform a choreographed routine to music that looks more like a dance than exercise. The students learn the routine as Junior 1s and use it everyday for the next three years. Personally, I love to watch the students do their exercises. It’s not because I like to watch them being tortured, but because I find it fascinating to watch them all move in sync. Take a look for yourself.

When I first arrived in China, I asked myself why the Chinese decided to use 20 minutes of their school day to gather all the students together and make them dance. Although it’s not this way at Jing Yan, some schools have the students doing the exercises three times a day; early-morning, late-morning, and evening. That means that many students spend an hour per day “exercising” with their classmates. Throughout the course of a week, the students are losing five hours of class time for this seemingly pointless activity. The exercises don't replace gym class as a time for physical activity at school. Each class also has a P.E. class several times a week. Additionally, the student have been running around the track as a class for the first 15 minutes of the last period of the day lately.

As you saw in the video, the routine isn’t much exercise to start with and most students do it half-heartedly, which takes away almost all the exercise it provided in the first place. So then why spend all the time and energy making the students dance together? I think the title of a song some of my friends sang with their colleagues at the Teacher’s Day celebration at their school some months ago sums it up quite nicely: Unity Is Power. One way to teach the students unity at a young age is to get them to do something together as a school every single day. Apparently someone, somewhere, sometime in the past decided that mass-scale exercising would serve such a purpose quite well. And so the students continue to do it today.

Hand Turkeys in China

Like many elementary school students in the US, the students in my classes made hand turkeys during the week leading up to Thanksgiving. For those of you who forget or who were never introduced to the joys of a hand turkey, they are paper turkeys made by tracing one’s hand and then adding legs to the bottom of the palm and a face to the thumb. Unlike the American kindergarteners, however, the hand turkeys in my class served a dual purpose. Not only were they a simple way to celebrate the holiday, but they also allowed the students to reflect on things they were thankful for. In each finger, the students were supposed to write one thing for which they are thankful. Of course, the children were thankful for some of the same things that American students might list as things they are thankful for. Family, friends, and school made the cut in most classes. There were, however, a few additions to the Chinese students’ lists that may surprise some of my readers in the West. I’ve been in China long enough to know to expect such answers. The complete list from Class 9 is posted below.

One specific student in class 9 showed particular devotion to her country when making her hand turkey. Nile couldn’t be restricted to just the four fingers when listing what she’s thankful for, so she decided to use her palm for two additional items.

Clearly, Chinese students love their "motherland," a term they often use to describe China. I think you would be hard pressed to find an American student who would list "the USA," "the Libertarian Party," "Atlanta Olympics," and "my homeland!!" when making a hand turkey in a foreign language class. Maybe that's just me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Roller-skating, Chinese Style

When I was younger one thing I really loved to do with my family and friends was to go roller-skating at the Castle Roller Rink. Not only is the façade of the building “super cool,” but also many hours of pure fun were spent inside. I always preferred to rent the skates rather than bring my own from home, because the rented ones rolled much smoother over the bright blue rink.

So when my friend Tiffany suggested that we go roller skating here in Zhuzhou as a part of her birthday celebration, I was definitely in support of the idea. Following a wonderful Italian dinner, a group of eight of my American friends headed over to the roller skating rink, which is located above an open air market. After paying 5 kuai ($0.74) for our entrance and skate rental fee, I received a pair of skates that surely would have been retired from use many years ago at the Castle. Let’s just say I did take a moment to think about how bad it would be should the wheels decide to fall off my skates at sometime during the night. This was the one time that I wish I could have brought my own skates from home. We all know that was possible, so I bravely strapped on the skates and made my way onto the rink. The floor appeared to be a smooth wooden planked surface, but as many things in China, looks can be deceiving. When I skated with the grain of the wood, it was quite smooth. Skating against the grain of the wood was a different story. This was just the first of many things that reminded me I was not at the Castle and not in the US.

I haven’t been to the Castle in many years, but I remember that they have a large poster displaying about 10 rules near the entrance door. Although I can’t recall every one and I surely don’t remember the exact phrasing of the posted rules at the Castle, the rules below capture their general objectives.

1. No smoking while skating.
2. No skating against the flow of the other skaters.
3. If you fall down, stand up and continue to skating as soon as possible.
4. No skating in an unsafe manner.
5. No littering on the rink floor.

Let’s just suffice it to say that the Chinese skaters didn’t feel the need to follow any of the above rules. Skating with a lit cigarette was not uncommon. While about 75% of the skaters were skating in a counter-clockwise direction, 25% felt compelled to skate in the opposite direction. Following an accident (I admit it, I personally caused at least 2 of these said skating accidents), the involved parties would stay seated on the floor for up to several minutes until they decided to stand up again. Skating at high speeds, forwards or backwards, and many other skating tricks of questionable safety could be seen all over the rink. Extinguished cigarette butts, betel nuts, and empty snack wrappers littered the floor. The Castle owners would not have been happy with the situation at all.

How did I moderately safely navigate this mess of a skating rink you ask yourself? Well, here’s your answer. On every trip I’ve taken in China, a random Chinese person has come up to my party and asked us, “Can I be your guide?” The Chinese love to offer themselves out as guides. Occasionally they are professional guides. More often, however, they are locals who would like to take the opportunity to guide us around as a way to practice English. The skating rink was no different, though in this case they didn’t ask. After an introductory three laps, two Chinese college students came by and grabbed my hands. For the next hour or so, they lead me around the floor, helping me avoid many a catastrophe and teaching me the ways of the Chinese roller rink. I’m quite certain I would have fallen many more times had I not had the help of my “guides.”

Once again, I entered a situation thinking that I had some idea of what was going to happen. I thought I knew what it means to go to the skating rink. And as it happens so often in China, I’m was proven wrong. I had no idea what I was in for. The Chinese needed guide me, to help me do things their way. I’m just glad they’re willing to do so, at the skating rink and in everyday life. If the Chinese were not so willing to help a poor foreigner out, my stay in China would likely be far less enjoyable.

Wulingyuan in Pictures

If you're interested in viewing a few photos from my recent trip to Wulingyuan National Park, please follow this link. Enjoy!

Getting to the "Big" City

Imagine it. You’re living in a small town in the Hunan countryside and you want to get to the larger city of Zhangjiajie. You don’t have access to a car or a motorbike and it’s far too far to walk or ride a bicycle. As your town is more like a village than a real town, it isn’t large enough to warrant a train or bus station, or for that matter even a bus stop. So, how are you going to get to the “big” city?

As always, I’m here to help you out. There is a quick and easy solution to your problem; one that is used by many villagers all across China. Go out to your local freeway and wait along side the road until a bus going the direction you’d like to travel in come by and flag it down.

Can’t imagine doing something like this? Neither can I and I witnessed it first hand. During the 5 hour bus ride I took this past weekend from Zhuzhou to Zhangjiajie the bus stopped numerous times to pick up more passengers. At one point I went to sleep and the bus was perhaps half full. I woke up about an hour later and the bus was so full that people were sitting in the isle on small plastic stools. Although I’m sure these people know the bus schedule and thus are more than likely only waiting a short amount of time, I don’t think it would be all that enjoyable to wait along side of a busy freeway in the hopes that the bus will stop for you. People got on the bus all along the journey carrying precious cargo ranging from a live chicken to huge plastic bags filled with who knows what. Often there were no longer free seats and, as I mentioned before, the newcomers were forced to sit in the isle regardless of the fact that they were carrying a tiny, crying baby or were rather elderly. It seems that the rule on city busses that seats be given up to the aged, pregnant, handicapped, and passengers with small children doesn’t apply to long-distance busses. It seemed that the disregard for this rule was hard and fast. Even when I tried to give my seat up to a woman who couldn’t be much older than I am who was trying to breastfeed her baby while perched precariously on a case of water in the middle of the isle, her family told me that she didn’t need it. Can’t imagine that either.

Part of me feels lucky that Zhuzhou is a city of over 4 million people, and thus warrants a train station, as well as multiple bus stations. The other part of me feels like I’m missing out on an interesting Chinese experience. Ok, maybe I don’t feel all that bad about it.

Public Service Announcement: New Mailing Address

From hence forth, the following address should be used when sending snail mail my way.

Ashley [Insert my last name here]
Jing Yan Middle School
736 Xin Hua Road
Zhu Zhou City, Hunan 412000
People’s Republic of China

412000
中国
湖南省株洲市
新华西路736号
株洲景炎学校
Ashley [Insert my last name here]

Please remember that you must include both addresses on all letters and packages, as few Chinese postal workers can read English. As I mentioned before, it is probably best if you copy and paste the above text into a Word document, print that out, and then tape or glue the printout to the letter. If you are still having problems displaying Chinese characters on your computer, these directions should help you figure it out.

One Hundred and One Days

It is today, on my 101st day in China, that I have decided to take a moment to reflect of on my time abroad thus far. What have these days, that have simultaneously flown and crawled by, taught me about China? In the midst of missing home and liking it here, what have I learned about the Chinese people? Certainly the busy times of travel and the quietness of my apartment have bestowed something upon me. If anything, I have learned this:

The Chinese people are indelicate.
They spit on the street.
They push.
They catcall white women like it’s their job.
They eat very loudly.
They stare.
They are incredibly blunt.
They go to the bathroom on the street.
They are loud.
They fight in public a lot.

The Chinese people are quirky.
They wear red stilettos and blue polyester running suits at the same time.
They bring animals of all kinds on the public bus.
They have no personal space and assume I don’t either.
They snack on spicy chicken feet in a bag.
They can’t seem to plan anything.
They pair jogging pants with a suit jacket and call it fashion.
They have a very monotonous diet.
They don’t have the slightest understanding of what Playboy is.
They enjoy a good piece of stinky tofu every now and then.

The Chinese people are friendly.
They will try to move mountains for me.
They try their best to understand my unbelievably broken Chinese.
They are gracious.
They get up to give me a seat on the bus.
They are thoughtful.
They take time to drive me across town even though we just met and can barely communicate.
They are worried about my safety and wellbeing.
They say "hi" when they see me around town.
They are caring.
They try to help me as much as they can.
They are so glad to meet me.

In 101 days I’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of what it means to be Chinese and live in central China. I know China has so much left to teach me and I’m ready to learn. If my time here so far has been any indication, I’m in for another 230 days of pure madness.

Lessons from the Countryside

An extended weekend trip to the Hunan countryside with over 450 Chinese seventh grade students and more than 20 teachers, nurses, and “leaders” can provide one with a wealth of new information. I’m not sure if I would have ever learned many of these fascinating facts had I not done just that. As most of you will likely never have a similar experience, I though I would share all that I learned with you. I wouldn’t want to keep this information to myself, as in some cases, it could save your life.

1. When traveling with so many young people, it is likely that on average, one student per bus will suffer from motion sickness. In my case, that means about 12 students were puking their guts out in the bushes upon our arrival in Yanling.

2. The student who is car sick on your bus will be sitting right next to you. He will barf all over the floor of the bus and the Chinese teachers will do nothing about.

3. When Chinese teachers tell you that the food at the camp will be “not delicious,” they mean it will be nearly inedible.

4. It is perfectly acceptable for the teachers and “leaders” to drink beer for breakfast when on a school trip.

5. If you eat sweet potatoes you cannot get cancer. It’s not that you can lower your risk of getting cancer by eating a sweet potato every now and then. Or that eating sweet potatoes on a regular basis is evidence of a healthy life, which, combined with other factors, can help lower your chances of getting certain types of cancer. No. If you eat sweet potatoes you cannot get cancer. Period. This is according to the psychology and health teacher at the school. A pretty reliable source. As this information could save thousands of lives, I encourage you to share it with everyone you know and love.

6. One way to entertain to seventh graders is to put loaches in a fountain and have the students catch them with their hands. Sure most of the fish will die, but the kids will have fun.

7. Another way to keep the students out of trouble is to walk them a mile to the riverside, give them a few cooking supplies, raw food, and a few matches and tell them to go at it. No really, we did this. The students carried the food supplies, which consisted of pork, bean sprouts, spam, two eggs, peppers, and rice, to the riverside. Once there, each group got a pot, a wok, a huge knife, a cutting board, a spoon, a pot stand, and a bundle of wood. They collected river rocks to build a fire circle and then started a fire to cook the food.

8. It is possible for 450 pre-teens to cook their own meals with fire and sharp knives and not kill themselves or each other. Granted the cooking might have gone a little smoother had someone taught them how to build a fire, but that’s splitting hairs.

9. Rinsing dirty pots in the same river that humans use for a bathroom makes them clean.

10. Mahjong is a fun and super confusing game. It is acceptable to gamble while playing Mahjong on a school sponsored trip, as long as the Assistant Headmaster is invited to play. If you want to play for spicy dried mini-fish in a vacuum-sealed package instead, find the young, poor teachers.

11. Teaching Chinese students the Chicken Dance and the Macarena is considered a performance. The students will love it and you’ll see them doing these dances during their breaks back at school.

12. Traveling with almost 500 of your students and collogues, though frustrating at times, should not be missed and I encourage you grab the opportunity whenever possible. I know I will.

***

Photos of the trip can be viewed here. Thanks again to Kelly.

Happy Halloween!

Not want, thank you.

The Chinese aren’t known for their planning skills, so when I found out at 4:00 pm on Friday, October 18th that I would have a surprise five day weekend, I wasn’t that shocked. Expecting the unexpected is something you quickly become accustomed to in China. My site-mate, Kelly, and I decided to make good use of this gift and take a trip. Only twelve hours after learning about our long weekend, Kelly and I got off a train in Guilin, while the city was still covered in the darkness of night.

Guilin, and our ultimate destination of Yangshuo, are located in the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, only eight hours south-west of the Hunan Province. These cities are known to backpackers and tourists as beautiful areas to see China’s famous karst landscape. Karst topography is created when, over millions of years, the ground water dissolves a majority of the bedrock (often limestone), forming mountain-like towers from the harder stone that remains. Unlike most of the other cities I’ve visited, these towns were both flooded with not only thousands of Chinese tourists, but also foreign visitors of all ages. I must admit that it took a while for me to get used to seeing non-Asians at every turn.

Due to the abundance of both Chinese and foreign tourists, many locals are able to make a living selling their wares on the streets. They aren’t shy about approaching travelers to pressure them to take a look at their gourd flutes, DVDs, bracelets, scarves, or whatever else they might have to pawn off. One quickly tires of saying”不要,谢谢” (Bù yào, Xièxie), which literally translates as “not want, thank you”. It’s not just goods though. Coercion also comes from people who would like you to take on a bamboo boat cruise on the Li River, to the Super Water Buddha Cave, or be your guide for the day. Chinese fan? 不要,谢谢. Knock-off North Face jacket? 不要,谢谢. Weird profile cut-out that makes me look like I have a huge bump on my head? 不要,谢谢. Ear cleaning? 不要,谢谢. Osama Bin Laden T-shirt? 不要,谢谢. Taxi ride? 不要,谢谢. I don’t think I’m the first person to become mildly annoyed with then number of times I was forced to say “不要,谢谢” during a visit to Yangshuo. It can be become a little overwhelming and I began to think that these people didn’t see a person, but rather a dollar sign (or a yuan sign) when they looked at me.

While eating lunch with our bicycle tour guide, Daniel, my outlook took a 180˚ turn. I was feeling a little irritated that Kelly and I were tricked into/ forced to buy him lunch at a rather expensive restaurant, when I asked Daniel if he was married. He said he was and that he had a six year old son. He later added that his son lives in a village about 8 km from the town of Yangshuo with his parents, while he and his wife rent a room in the town. Work was hard to come by in the small village and so Daniel and his wife decided it would be better for their family if they sought employment in Yangshuo. There just isn’t time for them to ride their bikes back and forth between the town and the village everyday and there’s no one in the town who is able to watch over the little boy. Daniel and his wife work everyday, trying to find tourists who would like a bicycle tour guide, unable to see their son for months at a time. Then, in the off season when there are fewer tourists, they move back to the village and try to find employment picking fruit. Their lives are neither certain, nor easy.

There I was, feeling sorry for myself because I had to spend an extra ¥10 ($1.50) on this tour guide’s lunch after I already paid him for his guide services. And there he was, fighting every day to make a living, to stay alive, and to give his son the best life he can. Could I be more of a jerk? The least I could do for this very kind man was to buy him a nice lunch and not mentally whine about it.

Lunch with Daniel gave me an entirely new perspective on my need to say 不要,谢谢 time and time again. I’m still not going to buy everything offered to me. Not by a long shot. However, I am going to think not about how it can become irritating to be approached by local vendors, but rather about the person behind the goods and services, that person’s family, and their well-being while saying, “不要,谢谢.”

***

If you’d like to see photos of my trip, please follow these links: Yangshuo and Long Ji Rice Terraces and Guilin. (Thanks to Kelly for providing all the photos. My camera is currently out of commission and will be for the next few weeks or so. I’m trying to get it repaired here in Zhuzhou, but it’s proving to be more difficult that one might have thought. In the end, I may just end up having to buy a new one. Whatever happens, there will be pictures!)

Poor dogs

In addition to the 12 classes I teach weekly, I also lead two “English Corners.” These classes are made up of the best four students in each class (as chosen by their Chinese English teachers). Although there has been a room assignment problem during every single English Corner and getting things started has never been easy, these have quickly become some of my favorite class periods. I love working with a smaller number of students (32 in each class) at a higher level. The students are far more driven to learn English and a majority are very lively and participate. I’m able to have the students do more interesting activities in class and get them up out of their seats.

Because the Chinese school system focuses on the one “right” answer to every problem, there is little room for creativity and students tend to struggle when I ask them to come up with something on their own. It has become my personal goal to allow (and, in some cases, teach) the students in these smaller classes to be more creative. In order to get them talking and get their creative juices flowing, we made up stories as a group last week. I started the students off with a prompt like, “yesterday my mother moved to the moon,” and had them make up the rest of the story, one sentence at a time. They came up with some pretty interesting ideas. Surprisingly, eating hair and talking bugs was an integral part of the plot in both classes. It must be a Chinese thing.

Building off the activity from last week, I had them come up with a stories in small groups this week. The prompt was, “yesterday my mom bought me a dog,” and after 10 minutes to prepare, I had the students share their stories with the whole class. Here is one example. I left their mistakes to give you an idea of the level that the best students are working at.

I have a small dog, it’s white. Yestoday we going to naterpark [nature park], The naterpark have many animal. It’s very happy, I’m happy, too!
-written by Shuke, Ford, Anita, and Andy.

You may think it’s not much of a story, but I can’t express how pleased I was when they shared that story with the class. I’m happy when they stay on task and speak English, so I guess it doesn’t take much to thrill me. Here’s a second example.

If I have a little dog. I will playing game with it! and I will give it name. It name is “Mike Jackson hot dog.” Last, I will eating this dog. The dog is very healg [tasty].
-written by Tom Brown, Roy, Harry, Jake, and Tom.

The dog that was eaten in the last story was not a hot dog, but an actual dog. Another story featured a dog name Alice that was consumed by the student’s father. In fact, the dogs in four out of the five stories became dinner before the story was finished.

While it is common to eat dogs in China, it is uncommon to eat animals that were formerly pets. The dogs that become dinner are raised on farms for their meat and are available for purchase at the market. According to many of my Chinese friends, dog meat warms you in the winter and is enjoyed by most girls. Although I am worried about staying warm this winter, I don’t think I’m going to try that specific method.

The stories just prove that apparently I need to think more closely about the animals I choose for my story prompts, if I don’t want to the animals to dinner at the end. Actually, I’m not exactly sure what animal would be safe choice. Maybe giant pandas...

Fireworks!

I think that it is common knowledge that I love fireworks. During the week before and after the 4th of July I can be found driving vast distances to see a good fireworks show. I love the flash of color followed by the sharp sound. While I can remember covering my ears from the boom of sound as a child, I can’t remember being afraid of a quality fireworks display. Being that fireworks were invented in China during the 12th century, I expected that the Chinese would share my love of exploding pyrotechnic stars. I was, however, enormously mistaken. The Chinese don’t merely love fireworks, they are obsessed with them.
During the 12th century fireworks were used by the Chinese people to ward of evil spirits. I have to say that I’ve become a believer. How else would you explain the complete lack of evil spirits in China today? I mean, if I was an evil spirit I would definitely get out of here. The number of fireworks set off every single day is unbelievable. I’ve been in China for about 80 days and I think I can count the number of fireworks-less days I’d had since then on one hand. The Chinese use fireworks to celebrate a birth, a death, a wedding, a holiday, and the grand-opening of a new place of business. I am personally convinced that fireworks also mark the availability of oranges at the market, Tuesdays, and the successful crossing of the street by elderly women. With all these things to celebrate, hearing fireworks is not at all uncommon.
Because the Chinese have so many events to celebrate and many more fireworks to shoot off, they are unable to discriminate on the time of day that they set them off. In the US we generally prefer to view a fireworks display in the dark or, at the very least, dusk. The Chinese do not have this luxury. Darkness does not cover the land long enough. Perhaps for this reason they choose to set off fireworks at any time of day. Today, for example, I was lucky enough to hear a firework display at 6:00am, 7:30am, and 10:45am. You might be wondering how fireworks can be properly seen in the daylight. The answer is simple; they can’t. You are just able to hear loud blasts, which the first few times made me wonder if the city was under attack. In fact, while traveling I met two Israelis who said: “This morning we were awoken by fireworks. Being from Jerusalem, we thought it was gun fire and immediately ducked for cover.”
Personally, I think I’m suffering from fireworks overload and can feel my love of exploding chemicals dying within me, which saddens me greatly. I only hope I’ll be able to recover once I return to the US.

A picture's worth a thousand words, so I guess these are worth 52,000.

If you'd like a few visuals of my trip to Sichuan, check out this link. Enjoy!

Game

« game: (adj) Informal. having the required spirit or will (often followed by for or an infinitive): Who's game for a hike through the woods? »

If I could offer one piece of advice to those considering traveling to or living in China, it would be to take a moment and seriously evaluate your level of game. Let me preface my explaination by saying that this suggestion is mainly directed at people who want to get off the beaten track. You can always do what some like to call “China-light” and not need a terrible amount of game. Although I’ve never been, I know that Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Xi’an are amazing cities and I can’t wait to visit them myself. But for those of you wanting to travel to the heart of China, to visit cities that the Chinese themselves visit, and to get a glimpse into real Chinese life, genuine game is an absolute necessity.

Take for example my recent trip to the Sichuan province during what the Chinese call Golden Week. Just the process of getting tickets required game. Because the Chinese are not familiar with the concepts of pre-planning and roundtrip tickets, just making it to Chengdu and back was not certain for some time. The headmaster at one of my friend’s school purchased outbound tickets for the both of us, ensuring our safe and rested arrival. As we setout on a 25 hour train ride that Sunday, however, we had absolutely no guarantee that we wouldn’t be hitchhiking our way back to Hunan. Golden Week is the most traveled of all Chinese holidays, thus not making it home was actually a valid fear. Luckily we got tickets with the help of another friend and things worked out beautifully. Without game, however, I don’t think I would have ever gotten on the train.

Only two days later my travel companion, Caroline, and I found ourselves in another situation that required us either to be totally game or die. Ok, so die is an exaggeration, but game was essential to our sanity. We arrived at Mount Emei, one of the four holiest mountains to Chinese Buddhists, around 6:00 pm with the hope of spending the night in one of the mountain’s many monasteries. We very quickly discovered that there were far more people than there were beds and that night was falling quickly. Due to the fact that the monasteries close at dark, we were in a race against time, as well as thousands of fellow travelers. We proceeded to run around, asking everyone we could where the nearest monastery was located. We finally found the Baoguo Monastery and practically sprinted to the “Accommodations” desk. My heart sank when I heard the monk say those famous two Chinese words, “mei yo” or “don’t have.” It looked like we would be sleeping in the forest. I told him that we were willing to sleep on the floor, but still the answer was “no.” Luckily for us, a monk who spoke a bit of English happened to be walking past and was called over by the monks behind the desk. The second monk told us that there was another option. He proceeded to describe what sounded an awful lot like a Buddhist homeless shelter. I said, perhaps too hastily, that we would take it, while Caroline was less sure. The monk offered to take us to look at the room. It turned out to be just fine and we decided to take it. In the end it was more than fine. We met some really interesting travelers who were in the same situation that we were. One, a Tibetan man, shared with us what it is like to live in modern China as a member of the Tibetan minority. And I can’t help but think that I never would have had the opportunity to talk with him had Caroline and I not been game. Game was incredibly important that night and the following days. I’m honestly not sure what we would have done without it. I’m so glad that I was able to spend my Golden Week traveling with someone who is not only super game, but also a wonderful friend. I’m quite confident we’ll need our game as we travel around Southeast Asia during Spring Festival in a few months, but more on that later.

I have plenty more examples of how important game is in China: sitting on the floor of a bus for over 4 hours, being pushed around by Chinese tourists in a line to see a giant Buddha for another 4 hours, and almost having to sleep in tents on the roof of a hostel after making a reservation for a bed. Rather than go into all of that, I need to highlight that Caroline and I don’t have a monopoly on game. Many of you are game too. You just need to find situations to act on it. Come to China and such situations will throw themselves at your feet.

A quick trip to western Hunan!

I’ve been sitting at my computer for about 30 minutes now, trying to think of a way to describe my trip to Fenghuang and Dehang. It’s hard because, more than likely, none of you have ever heard of these two cities. But that’s part of what made the trip so exciting. By visiting two minority villages in the Hunan province that I hoped were untouched by tourism, I hoped to get to know the real China. It turns out my wish was only partly granted. Fenghuang, which is said to be the second most beautiful city in all of China, was a bit more touristy than I would have wished, but still beautiful. Rather than describe everything I saw in Fenghuang, I’ll let you look at it.

A man fishing trash out of the river.

Over looking the old town from the Rainbow Bridge.

A Miao women sewing slippers.

Kelly and I post-rickshaw ride.

Fenghuang and the Tuo Jiang River.

Dehang, though not far in distance from Fenghuang, was all together different. The city was extremely small and is known more for the karst formations that surround the city than for it’s buildings or other structures. After finding a place to stay with the help of a pack of cigarettes, we were greeted by a local police officer wanting to register us for a “temporary residents permit.” We had previously told our driver that we had our passports, but this wasn’t exactly true. Most of us did, but not all of us. I’m sorry to say that I belonged to the group that did not have their actual passport in their possession. I had a copy of both my visa and passport, as I had heard that would be sufficient. In our case, however, it was not. Luckily I was able to sign-up for my permit without the officer noticing I didn’t have a passport. Another member of the group was less luckily and received quite a talking to from the officer. In the end, everything worked out and we were able to stay the night. The next day we took two amazing hikes. As most of you know, I typically do not hike. The Chinese as a people, however, also do not hike. So, this was most like a walk on stone sidewalks and a million stairs. Once again, describing what we saw would not do the area justice, so here are a few pictures.

A stream and bridge new our hotel.

Suzanne, Caroline, and Kelly just starting out on the first hike.

A man harvesting rice.

Kelly, Suzanne, a random Chinese man, and I pose on top of a mini-dam along the hike.

Me and the gem of the hike, a lovely waterfall.

I’ve posted a number of additional pictures on Facebook. If you’d like to check them out and are not a member of Facebook, simply follow these links: Fenghuang and Dehang.

I'm glad to have travled throughout the Hunan province. Next up, however, is the rest of China. October 1st is a national holiday and we have the entire week off of school to celebrate. We'll see where I end up and with who, but it will be a fun time regardless.

How many clueless Americans does it take to make a Chinese variety show hilarious? One. Me.

Little did I know that shortly after writing that last entry my Teacher’s Day would get even more exciting. After school, all the teachers got on a private bus and traveled to a local restaurant for a banquet. It is a Chinese custom to toast anyone and everyone at a Chinese banquet. In the past, Kelly and I remained on the receiving end of toasts do to a combination of nervousness and the language barrier. At this banquet, I felt like the time had come to make my first Chinese toast. So following a quick Chinese lesson, Kelly and I went over to toast the school “leaders” and wish them a Happy Teacher’s Day. I’m happy to report that they toast went well and other teachers even complimented us on our bravery.

Following dinner, we all went to the theater. Upon our arrival we were given show tickets that said “Merry Christmas.” We entered the theater and after other teachers were ushered off the VIP couch saved for Kelly and my use, we found jack-o-lantern candle holders on the table. Apparently the Zhuzhou Theater likes American holidays. There was some preshow music playing when we got there and since we were in a jolly mood, some of us started to dance. The next thing I know, the other teachers were encouraging me to get onto the stage to dance. I have no idea what we were thinking, but Kelly, Amy, I, and some other teachers got onto the theater’s stage and danced until the show started.

Later in the show, following a few gentlemen’s club like acts, the MC called for two volunteers to come onto the stage. As soon as I realized that he was looking for some volunteers I felt myself being pulled up to my feet by my liaison, Amy, and the next second I was on stage. At this point I had no idea what he was going to ask me to do. It turns out that I was supposed to reenact a famous scene in Chinese history. A actress came on stage to demonstrate what we were supposed to say and do. One of my teacher friends, Fiona, played the female role first and then I was up. I won’t describe what a fool I looked like, I’ll let you watch it for yourself. Apparently I was supposed to act strong and defiant, which is definitely what I was going for, though I think it just makes me look stupid. Oh well.

For my troubles, I got a huge, stuffed dog to take home with me. He's currently sitting in my office, guarding my computer when I'm away. Who know's what I'll do with him in the future.

I hope you enjoyed the video as much as my fellow teachers enjoyed the show as it was happening. Look out for a post about my trip to Fenghuang and Dehang in the next few days! :)

Ashley

Teacher's Day!

Today is a very important day in the life of every Chinese teacher: Teacher’s Day. Teacher’s Day is an ancient Chinese tradition that honors the work of teachers every September 10th. I guess the equivalent in America would be Teacher’s Appreciation Day, but in name only. This day was more like Christmas than a Teacher’s Appreciation Day in the US that most students are completely ignorant of. Every student that crossed my path in the hall changed their greeting from the everyday “Lǎoshī hǎo” (Hello teacher) to “Happy Teacher’s Day!” And at the beginning of each class, the students shouted "Happy Teacher's Day" at the top of their lungs. Just imgaine 65 little ones screaming like they just saw Justin Timberlake and you'll get the idea. It actually began to hurt my ears the fourth time around. When it comes to gifts, I really made out like bandit. I received over 15 cards, two carnations, some type of candied Chinese fruit on a stick, a bouquet of fake flowers, a key chain, a lollypop and a Chinese knot. I never expected this type of out pouring of affection. It really made me feel appreciated by the students! So, on May 6th, show all the US teachers you know a Chinese-style Teacher’s Day. They’ll never see it coming! :)

Jing Yan Middle School: Like nothing we've seen in America

As I mentioned before, even though I live on Er Zhong’s campus, I actually teach at Jing Yan Middle School, which is about a 30 minute bus ride from the apartment. Jing Yan really is a nice school, located near downtown Zhuzhou. It is made up of four separate buildings surrounding a track and a number of basketball courts. On the fourth floor of one of the buildings I share an office with Kelly and my liaison, Amy. I’m really surprised and pleased with the office. I imagined that I would have a little student desk in a broom closet somewhere, but where they placed us is far from that. We each have out own desks with internet access. Additionally, we have really nice cabinets in which to store student work or whatever. I teach 12 classes of Junior 1s, who are equivalent to American 7th graders. Each class has about 65 students in it, which means I teach over 780 students each week.

(My students are the ones without school uniforms in the picture.)

Before I came to China I shared my nervousness about teaching upwards of 65 students at a time with my friends and family and many people told me not to worry. They said that Chinese students are very well behaved and wouldn’t give me any problems. I would now like to set the record straight. I don’t care in what culture or country you are, if you put sixty-five 11-13 year olds in very tight quarters they will talk… a lot. I’ve been having some problems keeping the classes quiet. The "irritated look" coupled with "hands on hips" seems to be doing far better than “Silent Fox” and “Clap once if you can hear me.” Part of that is surely the fact that an annoyed look can really cross language barriers.

On that note, the students are having a very difficult time understanding what I’m saying. I speak incredibly slowly and act out almost every word possible, but we are still having problems. It’s understandable though. There’s no way that a 7th grade language class in America would be able to get anything done with a foreign teacher who doesn’t speak the native tongue of the students either. I think it would probably be rather funny for an English speaker to watch my class. I’m sure I look like a fool. For example, during the first class period we played a “game” in which each student was supposed to think of something they liked that started with the same letter as their English name. Easy enough, you would think. I broke this simple activity down into three steps: 1. Think of your English name. 2. Think of the first letter of your English name. 3. Think of something you like that starts with the same letter as your name. I then rephrased those steps about 6 times, saying the same thing in a different way each time. After giving the students a few minutes to think of their name and word, I had a few stand up and speak before the class. I wrote, “My name is _____. I like _____.” on the board to help them think of what to say. I hoped that at this point they would get it. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. About 90% of the kids said something like this: “My name is Cooper Victor and I like play computer game” or “My name is Eat and I like play basketball.” Clearly I have my work cut out for me. Even though their English skills are lacking, the students are all really cute and I’m happy to be working with them this year. Hopefully, I will be able to help them improve their oral English skills during my time here.

Well, that’s all for now folks. Until next time...

雅丽

A place to call home

Loyal readers,

I’m so sorry I was forced to leave you for so long without an update. I’m sure many of you assumed that I was just slacking, a sentiment not without reason, as I have a history of forgetting to update my blog for months at a time. This however, was not the case. Since I moved into my apartment 14 days ago, I have been without internet access. I’ve be going to a local internet café for my daily internet fix, but there’s something about filthy keyboards and nosey Chinese teenagers that just kills the blogging mood.

So much has happened to me over the past week. I moved into my first Chinese apartment, I met my liaison (a Chinese woman who will be guiding me through this year: part translator, part intermediary, and part local expert), I visited several surrounding cities, including the birth place of Chairman Mao, and started formal teaching. There is just too much information to put in one entry, as such an entry would be far too long for mere mortal readers. Though I know some of you have super human reading abilities, I have to think of my multi-level readership when I write these entries. So here’s the plan. This entry will be devoted to the city of Zhuzhou and my apartment. Sometime during the weekend I will write an entry about my school and my first week as a middle school English teacher. And in the not so distant future I will fill you in on my modest travels. So here it goes.

Zhuzhou is a bustling city of 3.5 million people located about an hour south of Hunan’s capital, Changsha. It is know for its industry, which means that the pollution level in this area is out of control by western standards. The best air quality day anywhere in China is far worse than the worst day in America, and Zhuzhou is among the worst in all of China on a regular basis. In fact, Zhuzhou ranks in the top 20 of the world’s most polluted cities. This means that while living in Zhuzhou one must completely change their stance on what exactly constitutes a “bad” air quality day. I, for example, now consider a day which I can see the sky a “good” day and days that the sky is completely blanketed with lovely gray smog “bad” days. I haven’t noticed many personal affects of the poor air and I hope things stay that way throughout the year.

My apartment is located on the campus of Zhuzhou Number Two Middle School (or Er Zhong). Er Zhong is the best senior middle school in Zhuzhou, so it is known by most all the locals. It borders Yandi Square, a large square devoted to the city’s patron god, Yandi.

One of the best things about the location of my apartment is that many bus lines run through Yandi Square, making travel within the city a breeze. The apartment complex I live in houses the families of teachers who work at Er Zhong and Jing Yan Middle School, where I work. Jing Yan and Er Zhong have some type of connection, which I have yet to completely figure out. At this point I’m thinking that Jing Yan is a feeder school for Er Zhong, but I could be completely wrong. In China, middle school is the school between primary school and university, thus it includes American middle and high school grade levels. Jing Yan has the equivalent to US grades 7-9 and Er Zhong only has grades 10-12, so together they make one middle school.

At any rate, my apartment is located on the 6th floor of my apartment building. The building does not have an elevator, which means I’m going to have killer legs by the end of the year. One of my site mates, Kelly, is on the second floor of my building, but I choose the top floor apartment for the forced exercise. There are days when I hate myself for that decision, but I can see the hard work paying off already. My apartment has a living room, dining room, kitchen, office, two bed rooms, a bathroom (with a western toilet) and a laundry/sunroom area. That description alone makes it sound fabulous, but you have to remember that I’m in China. My apartment is rather nice, by Chinese standards, but it isn’t what we would rave over in America. The windows are exceedingly drafty (as in doors have blown shut when the windows are closed), the kitchen sink is at mid-thigh level, the bathroom sink has a very good possibility of falling off the wall sometime this year, and there isn’t really what we would call a shower area. There is a showerhead on the wall of my bathroom and the whole bathroom serves as a shower.


And one of the more troubling aspects of my apartment is the lack of a mattress on my bed. There are simply 8 or 10 blankets stacked on top of one another. Granted, my friends who do have mattresses are hardly better off, I don’t even have one! The color of my bed and wardrobe almost make up for the lack of a mattress though.
Other than those few things, my apartment is just fine and compared to where other first year teachers are living, I have it very well. All things considered, I’m happy to call apartment 602 my home for the next year.

Along with all the interesting Chinese furniture, my apartment came stuffed full of items left by the previous inhabitants. I was hoping that the previous volunteer teacher who lived here would have left a few things for me. A hair dryer, a working electric blanket, and an iron would have been nice. While I didn’t find any of those things, I did find a piggy bank full of money, a large Mao calendar, a few racy magazine pictures, old underwear in a box, and pictures of what the apartment used to look like. Most of the things I’ve come across have been complete junk and so I’ve been doing the world a service by throwing them out. Other things have been very interesting/ pretty cool. I’ve yet to go through all the drawers and closets, but I’m excited to see what I might find next. There’s a large trunk on one of the upper shelves that is too heavy to lift down. I’ll keep you updated on what treasures might be there once I find someone to help get it down.

I think that will do for now. I hope you got your fill of pictures and stories from China through this post. Another will be coming the next several days detailing my first week as a teacher and my school home for the year.

Hope things are well in the states. Try and steer clear of all the hurricanes I’ve been reading about in the news.

Ashley

I'm a real teacher now...?

I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last post. I’ve been incredibly busy almost every day since then. Things really geared up on the 11th when we started practicum. We had Chinese class every morning and then taught ESL classes in the afternoon. With five fellow teachers, I taught a class of 28 16 year olds. The students were star students from all of the Changsha schools who came to us for an oral English “camp.” Each day was broken up into three periods and an activity period. Because my teaching team was made up of 6 teachers, we ended up being responsible for three class periods each, which wasn’t bad at all.

I wasn’t nervous about standing in front of the students or teaching them English. I was, however, really nervous about planning a lesson that they would be interested in and would teach them something. It ended up going much better than I could have hoped. I taught a lesson on packing and modes of transportation. I brought the different travel items (clothes, passport, money, phrase book) into class to reinforce the vocabulary, which worked really well. My second lesson (and the one that I liked the most) was on Germany and the Grimm Brothers’ fairy tales. I spent most of the lesson talking about Rapunzel. I read the story to the students and then showed them a Sesame Street News Flash where Kermit is “on the scene” when the prince comes to Rapunzel’s tower. The kids did really well and I think they liked it. My last lesson focused American music. As you might be able to guess, this lesson was a huge hit with the students. They were particularly excited when I played Hit Me Baby One More Time as an example of pop-rock. This entire nation is a huge fan of Britney because, as one of my students explained, she is sexy.

The students were really great. They behaved, for the most part. Their names were, by far, my favorite part of meeting them. In my class alone we had Sweet, Adward, Aldous, Black Tea, Spring (male), and God Mohan. Other classes had students named Teacher, Squid, Circle, and Orange. Who knows where they get these names and why they pick them. I’m sure I’ll have a bunch more good ones when I meet my real students in a few days.

On the second day Sweet and another girl asked the teachers if we wanted to go out for dinner with her the next day. In America it would be kind of odd for a group of teachers and students to go out together, but in China it’s normal for the foreign teachers to hang out with the students (probably because they don’t have any friends their own age), so we said we would. The next day the girls took us to a hot pot restaurant. I would describe hot pot as the Chinese equivalent to fondue. Every one sits around a table with a large, divided pot sunk into the center of the table. In the pot there are two types of broth; one spicy, one not. You order what ever you want to put in the pot, anything from meat and mushrooms to tofu and cake. Then you cook for yourself what ever you want by boiling it in the broth. It’s one of my favorite types of Chinese food. (You can get an idea of what it’s like from the picture of the entire group of students and teachers in front of the hot pot table pre-food. Notice that the yellow sign behind us says. “You rhot pots, your taste.” Some of the best English signage I’ve seen in a while.)

To order the food the waitress brings a sheet which lists all the different choices. You write directly on the sheet to order the food. Because the teachers don’t have great command of Chinese characters, we left the ordering up to the students. Bad idea. Never give four 16 year olds free reign at a hot pot restaurant. They ordered so much food that it took three servers to bring the food out. We didn’t have enough room on the table so they had to bring us a three tiered cart to put the food on. This all ended up costing about a total of $20, so the experience didn’t damage our wallets too much and provided a good laugh and good food.

Practicum ended on Sunday and since then we’ve been having meetings all day. Tomorrow all the liaisons and some school officials will be coming to Changsha to us up to take us to our placements. I’m a mixture of excited and nervous, but I’ll be glad to have a little more down time. We’ve been going, going, going since we got to China and it’s been wearing down on the group as a whole. A lot of people are sick and I just got over a cold myself. I’ll let you know how the move goes in the next few days. Until then, have a great week!

欧雅丽

The one word on everyone's mind: Olympics

As promised, I’ll start this entry with a description of my first Chinese health exam. The process was smoother than I imagined, but less smooth than it most likely would have been in the United States. The day before the exam the staff here in China explained that the health check process could be a rather frustrating one. Apparently, in previous years the health department did not accept many test reports that volunteers brought from America. The only exception was that if the test was done in 2008 and even then there was still the chance you would be forced to repeat the tests.

And so all 52 of us arrived at the health center around 8:15 am, ready for an exciting morning of x-rays, blood work, ultrasounds and the like. We were jammed into a small office to wait for instructions. After a few minutes of waiting in line, we were told to go to the “Visa Room” where they would check our information. The official in the visa room took a quick look at any documents we brought along from the US. Some people had x-rays or blood work and EKG reports that they had done especially for this day. I just had a few copies from the doctor of reports of test I had for other reasons a few years ago. I didn’t feel like spending a mint to have a multitude of tests done in the US, when I knew they would be much cheaper in China. It turns out I was right. Not only was the cost of the test paid for by the Department of Education, but also all of my tests were accepted. This saved me from having to do a urine test, x-ray, physical exam, EKG, and an ultrasound. (Don’t ask me what they were looking for with the ultrasound. Couldn’t they have just checked the urine test for a pregnancy? Even the men had to get an ultrasound.) I still had to get blood work done, but that was quick and relatively painless. I’m not sure why I wasn’t required to do some of the other tests because I didn’t bring reports on them. For example, I’ve never ever had an ultrasound. So what ever they were looking for on an ultrasound (or a urine test), I was never tested for.

It seemed completely arbitrary whether your tests were accepted or not, whether you were required to do one, two, or all the tests. Some people who had far more thorough and recent test results were required to do far more testing than I was. All I can say is… oh, China.

The other exciting thing going on around here is the Olympics. Olympic fever has swept China by storm. Granted the Chinese people have been preparing for and aticipating this event for years, the excitement reached a climax this week. All around Changsha Olympic stores are selling Olympic paraphernalia. Anything that you use in your everyday life that you might be able to put a Fuwa (pictured above) on, you can buy at an Olympic store. I’m talking bags, hats, shirts, key chains, stuff animals, tea pots, vases, and much more.

The program organized a little Olympic Opening Ceremony party for us to go to. As we walked about a mile from our hotel to the party location, we saw everyone gathering around any TV they could find. We passed a group of men huddled around a small black and white TV in the middle of a construction zone. You could almost feel the excitement in the air – or maybe that was just me. It was fantastic to be able to watch the Opening Ceremony live in China. The broadcast was in Chinese, naturally, so I wasn’t totally sure what was going on all the time. One of the Chinese teachers was sitting next to me for a bit. About 30 minutes into the ceremony a police officer came and said that some people had to leave. Apparently people saw us walking down the street and told the police, who came over to check it out. They were worried that there were too many people in one small room and it was unsafe. So all the non-Americans had to leave the party, which was too bad.

I won’t replay the ceremony for you. I’m sure you all watched it if you wanted to. The whole thing lasted over four hours, which I’m sure they cut down for broadcast in the US. I’m not going to lie. Even though I was really excited to watch the opening ceremony, I got really tired towards the end of it. Over two hours of country presentations was just a bit much. All and all, in my opinion, it was a fantastic opening ceremony.

I’ve been watching different sporting events for the past few days. Understandably, almost every single event shown is China vs. some other country. Hopefully I’ll get to see some US action in there somewhere. In fact, tonight is the US vs. China men’s basketball game. All the volunteers are pretty excited for that one. We’re setting up a projector to watch it together. One girl is able to stream TV from America, so hopefully we’ll be able to hook up some American commentary as well.

I hope you’re all enjoying American Olympic coverage. It would be a real treat to hear some English (or even German) commentary, so I hope you’re all making the most of it. :)

欧雅丽

Some call it Chinglish, others Engrish

Life is really settling down in Changsha. Well, as settled as it can be when you live in a hotel. Our days have been filled with forums on life and teaching in China, Chinese classes, and TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) classes. The forums and classes are interesting, but are getting to be a little much. I think everyone is beginning to feel really run down after a week of almost no breaks. Tomorrow morning we have Chinese government health checks, so that will be a break from the routine. And I’m sure it will provide me with more than a few interesting stories to share with you all.

I’m getting used to how things run in China, even if I can barely communicate with the locals. I’ve begun to really wish I had studied Chinese more seriously before arriving. As a group, we’ve really been relying on the people who speak more Chinese. Once I move to my site in a few weeks that will no longer be an option. I’m pretty sure than the four of us in the Advanced Beginner class will be the most advanced Chinese speakers of the group in Zhuzhou, which isn’t saying much. In a way I’m kind of looking forward to the move. Because I will really have to rely on myself to communicate with the locals, I think my Chinese will really improve… or I’ll starve. We’ll just have to see. It’s funny when I imagine conversing with the other teachers at my school. I always picture us having a wonderful conversation without any language barriers… that is until I realize that in my mind we’re speaking German. Unfortunately, I think you could probably count the number of German speaking people in Zhuzhou on one hand, probably more like one finger. Me. I’m sure things will get easier with time. That’s how it worked when I was in Germany the first time, and that’s how it’ll have to work this time around.

The more time I spend in China, the more I realize how important English teachers are. One quick look at the cover of my new Chinese class notebooks shows the need for quality English teachers. “Sweet and New Topic. Give surprise everyday maybe sweet maybe mild, but we must learn to be happy. The most comfortable method of life is to live with the people you love, to be pertato couches, talk together,watchTVtogather and Enjoy each other. Do you like qimei notebook contain the best ruled foolscap suitable for writing.” I hope you have gleaned some information from all that. It took me a little, but I think I got the whole thing. This sign posted at the Changsha Number 1 Middle School is another example of the wonderful English the Chinese people read everyday without realizing how ridiculous it is. And this is posted at a school! (Sorry if it's a little hard to read. The sign is made out of a reflective metal, as you can see. It says, "Love your life Look out for fires.") It is also interesting to note that Changsha Number 1 Middle School is located in the heart of Changsha, a city of over 6 million people, not a forest. Who knows what they were thinking. I'm sure the characters would give us some insight on that. Perhaps I’ll use all of this crazy English in one of my lessons.

I think that’s about all I have to report right now. I’ll let you know how the health check goes. I hope you’re getting excited for the Olympics! Only a little more than 46 hours till the Opening Ceremony! Let’s hope everything goes as planned.

欧雅丽
(Ou Yali: my Chinese name)

Firsts in Changsha

I made it to Changsha! We arrived in Hunan only a few hours after I last left you. A bus picked us up at the airport and drove us the 40 minutes to our hotel. I was really happy about that because, as some of you heard, my bags are super heavy and I’m not sure I could have transported them too far. We got settled and had the rest of the day to relax. We few Chinese student volunteers took us on a walking tour of Changsha. It was nice to get an idea of what the city was like, however, the seven mile tour was extremely tiring for the six or so jet-lagged Americans who were along.

Now that I’ve been in China for two and a half days, I feel that I can safely say that this year is going to be quite a trip. Some things are exactly like I thought they would be, and some things are totally different. I’ve had so many first in these few hours, it’s amazing. As most of them are completely random, I’m going to make a list.

• My first interaction with a Chinese local completely in Chinese: I know it sounds lame, but I was totally pumped yesterday when I bought an ice cream all by myself from a Chinese woman, in a little shop. Granted the conversation didn’t include any verbs and was made up of a number of gestures, but it still rocked. So if you are ever in China and need help buying an ice cream, let me know.
• My first visit to a Chinese grocery store: Imagine Black Friday shopping in a Walmart-like place with loads of Chinese people and you’ll have idea of what this is like. People everywhere pushing and shouting in Chinese. Completely odd items for sale. No ability to communicate the fact that you’re looking for a watch for a male that is not adorned with Mickey Mouse.
• My first run-in with the Chinese police (no, I wasn’t arrested): While I was at the grocery store some of my friends, one girl’s wallet was either lost or stolen. With the help of a dictionary and the few English words the cashier knew, we were able ask for her help. She quickly alerted the security team, who took us to a customer service- like counter where we tried desperately for over a half an hour to communicate to them a few details of the crime. They decided it would be best to call the police, at which time we realized that we needed a translator that knew more than 6 words of English. We called the program directors, who came over to help us out. We were ushered into the VIP Room (it was literary called the VIP Room) to wait for the police officers to arrive. In the end everything worked out. It turns out the wallet was picked up by a small child, who took it home with them. When the parents discovered their kid had the wallet, they took it to the police, who called us to come pick it up. Thanks to the Carrefour employees who insisted we file a report, we got the wallet back.

The other firsts I’ve had I can either not think of right now or don’t seem worth reporting, so I think I’ll leave the list at that. I wanted to announce, however, that I have been getting on Skype every morning before breakfast. This happens around 6:45pm EST, so feel free to hop on and we can chat for a bit.

I hope everything is going well back in the US. Don’t forget to comment, email, or call to let me know how you are!

Ashley