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
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
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.
Sunday, December 28, 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!
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
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.
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.)
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
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.
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.
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!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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
