As an American, I value my privacy

This morning was one of those mornings where, if someone showed up at my door and offered me a plane ticket home, I'm not so sure I would turn them down. Of course, since it's China, that person probably wouldn't just be at  my door, they would have found some way to just let themselves in.

Story time.

This morning, I was woken up at 7:50 AM by knocking at my door. I knew it was probably Mr. Dong, because no one else would knock on my door that early. I was still in bed, so I got up and figured I should probably put a bra on since I had a visitor. I didn't have time for that, because apparently he didn't think I was getting to the door quickly enough and just opened it and let himself in. God knows what would have happened if I had been in the shower. (Note: since I live alone, I pretty much never shut doors.)

Not only was Mr. Dong barging into my apartment at this ungodly hour, but he had three strange repairmen in tow. Apparently, my shower leaked into the auntie's "room" last night, so he was coming to fix the leak. Nevermind that I've been asking him since Thursday for clean drinking water. This leak had to be fixed immediately.

Well, I had class at 8:45, so I had to get ready. I let them in and went into the bathroom to put lotion on my face and brush my teeth. After that, I could have been out of there and gotten ready in my bedroom. I guess I wasn't going quickly enough for them, because Mr. Dong came into my bathroom and started moving the towels from the base of my shower. That was fine with me. If they were going to come to my apartment unannounced, they could move things out of the way. It's still my apartment, and I still need to get ready. My kitchen/porch area that I'm supposed to dry my clothes in is disgusting and dirty, because I'm pretty sure the windows aren't sealed properly, so all the outside smells and dust can get in. Because of that, I dry all my clothes in the bathroom, usually hanging from the shower. As I was brushing my teeth, Mr. Dong tells me that I need to move those things. I nod, because I can't exactly talk while I'm brushing my teeth. Apparently, I wasn't brushing fast enough for him, because he started to touch my clothes like he was going to move them himself. One problem: IT WAS ALL BRAS AND UNDERWEAR.

This was the last straw for me. As everyone who has met me knows, I can pull out a pretty mean voice if I have to. I just took the brush out of my mouth, looked at him and said, "No. Absolutely not. You will not touch those. You will wait until I am done brushing my teeth, and then I will move those items myself. This is my apartment, and I still need to get ready for the classes I need to teach at your school." At that point, I didn't care that he was my foreign connection at my school. That was out of line. Yes, this is a different culture, which accounts for the breaking and entering of my apartment. I'm still struggling to deal with it, but whatever. I can live with it. Touching my personal items? Not okay, not ever.

He got the hint, and sent the repairmen upstairs to work on another apartment, presumably letting them into one of the foreign students apartments while they were at school. They came back later with the auntie as I was leaving for class. I was putting things in my purse to head out, when she pointed at a ten yuan note I had sitting on my shoe rack, that I leave there in case I want to run out to the food cart to get lunch or something. For those who don't know, 10 yuan is roughly $1.50. Since auntie doesn't speak English and I don't speak Chinese, she pointed at the money, mimed putting it in my purse, and then pointed back at the repairmen. I took this to mean that I better make sure I had all my money in my purse, because they might try to steal it.

This threw me into a frenzy, because if this group of men would steal less than $2 from me while I was gone, what the hell were they going to do with all the other stuff in my apartment?! I swept through to my bedroom and collected everything that was small enough to take with me - iPad, iPod, and camera. Rude? Yes, probably. I didn't care. I left the apartment in a storm of tears, imagining coming back to a ransacked apartment and a stolen laptop. Yes, sometimes I let my imagination get the best of me. Then, I walked outside and saw a pug with a broken leg. I didn't even have food to give it.

It's okay, though, because as soon as I walked into my classroom, one of the girls told me I was very beautiful, and they were very well behaved. Even though the zombie/gun note came from one of my Wednesday classes, as a whole, they're my two smartest groups of kids.

Oh, and no one stole my laptop. Clearly. But, I can't use my shower for 24 hours.

Violence is never the answer

So, when I decided on the name of this post, I had no idea how relevant it was going to become. I originally started writing this blog post during our Chinese lesson with Mr. Fu, because one of my head teachers today gave a child a bloody nose. I left it half-started and was watching some internet TV and grading papers when I found this:

If you can't tell from this wonderful picture (I don't have a
scanner), this is a drawing of a classroom. That's a person at
the bottom, holding a gun. There's a teacher at the front, with
their hands up, and an animal and another object hanging from
the chalkboard. I don't know what the side panel is.

This is a close-up of the teacher, who is yelling something.

And, a zoomed-in version of the shooter at the back of
the classroom.

 Naturally, after finding this picture, I was thrown off quite a bit. It's not every day that you find a picture of a child shooting up a classroom in amongst the spelling tests you're grading. I left to go show the girls and Iraise, and they told me I should definitely take it to Mr. Dong in the morning. There is tons of writing in Chinese on the paper, and speech bubbles in Chinese characters. At the very least, he would be able to tell me what it said and then inform the head teacher of what happened.

As I was standing and talking to Lauren and Iraise about it, Mr. Zhou walked by. I grabbed him and asked if he could translate any of it for me. I didn't have a whole lot of faith in his translation skills, just because his English isn't always reliable, but it was worth a shot.

He told us the characters on the side panel were too small to read, so we asked him what the top said. It had a bunch of characters and the English letters "C.F.". He didn't know the word, so he mimed it - sniper rifle. Okay, cool. That didn't make me feel any better. So we pointed at the kid with the gun at the bottom. The only words he knew the English translation for were, "very dangerous". Sweet. Definitely not feeling any better. We pointed to the top, by the English teacher. He said the characters on the desk said something about "American."

My brain - "Cool. This kid is anti-American and wants to kill me."

After a lot of stuttering, though, we got this out of Mr. Zhou: "There are four American groups. Some game." I wasn't sure what that meant, so he looked at the panel one more time. He told us the top said something about, "help me!" Still not making me feel good. The next one, he mimed an air mask. Thank God Iraise was there to translate that one, because when Mr. Zhou said, "no more air" and covered his mouth, I thought for sure he meant suffocation. After a few more minutes, we finally got to the conclusion that this kid made the drawing based off an American zombie video game called Cross Fire, hence the C.F. I'm still planning on going in to show it to Mr. Dong, so he can at least tell the head teacher and perhaps mention that it's not exactly appropriate to draw pictures of guns to give to your foreign teacher.

Okay, back to the original intent of my post.

I'm getting really sick of some of the head teachers here. This morning in one of my classes, I broke everyone into pairs and had them practice interviewing each other based on 10 questions on the board. Then, they had to write a paragraph about their partner to turn into me. The point was to practice using words like him, her, he, she, his, hers, etc. In Chinese, they use "ta" to signify both he and she, so a lot of kids have problems knowing when to use those words. Naturally, they were talking, since it was a speaking, listening, and writing exercise. Of course, there were kids goofing off as well. That comes with the territory. I was walking around the room and going up to those pairs to ask them where their paper was, how their progress was coming, and all of that. The head teacher heard the noise and came into the room to "watch". By watch, I actually mean do the following:

1. Bash a boy on the back of the head with a textbook for goofing off.
2. Take a boy out into the hallway to "talk to". This boy came back about 10 minutes later, with his entire shirt drenched and a nosebleed.

I'm pissed about this for two reason. First, the most obvious reason is that I don't condone hitting children, especially in a school. I especially don't agree with making twelve year olds bleed because they weren't listening. THEY'RE TWELVE. Of course they're not listening. Second, this completely and totally undermines any authority I've gained in this class, because it sends the message to them that their head teacher thinks I'm not controlling them and she needs to step in.

As predicted, things escalated after she finished "disciplining" the boys. After their time was up to finish their paragraphs, only seven kids (out of a class of 58) had finished. We had a little chat and I told them that it was unacceptable that only seven of them had finished. They had to sit in silence for 5 minutes while they finished their paragraphs.

Another problem I've been having with my classes is that, since I don't have a printer, I've had to improvise with my handouts. I use cards with numbers that I hand out to make partners, etc. I have to reuse pretty much everything I have with all of my classes, because it's just not humanly possible for me to make roughly 600 copies of everything. These kids, though, are so destructive with anything you give them. Half of the numbered cards they turned into me weren't even usable any more. They were ripped or folded or written on or crumpled into balls. We had a little chat about that as well. I told them that when I gave them these things, I expected them back, and I expected them back in the same condition. I don't give them back their papers crumpled or torn. Quite a few of them looked pretty ashamed, so I think I got the message across. We'll see on Friday! (That's when I see these kids again).

To end on a funny note, we had our regular Monday meeting with Mr. Dong. He was passing around a paper with reminders of how to be safe over the holiday that's coming up next week. One of them was to only take marked taxis, and I guess this was the one he found to be the most important. He told us:

"Only take marked taxis, and by this I mean the ones with the light. If you do not, they may take you to rural areas. Once you are there, they will sell you. Or they will make you their wife, because you are young and beautiful."

We immediately started laughing hysterically. I had a flashback of Paige telling us in training that her biggest fear was getting kidnapped.

Hide yo' kids, hide yo' wife. You might get snatched up by a taxi driver in China.

My life is a game of charades

Today, I successfully managed to ask for a webcam for a Mac computer. Kind of.

The supermarket by us sells a wide variety of webcams. My camera on my computer works some of the time, but does really bizarre things, like only show a video of my eye, the rest of the time. I figured it was time to buy a webcam, especially since they're pretty cheap at the supermarket.

After doing the rest of my shopping (which consisted of Coke Light, peanut butter, and yogurt), I headed back down to the webcam section. The lady came over to help me, and I pointed at the webcam I wanted to see, since they're behind glass doors. I assumed she would give me the box to look at, since that's what's happened every other time. Wrong. She grabbed her pen and the pad and started to write a receipt for that webcam. Wait!

I grabbed my phrasebook and she stopped. I showed her box - xiang zi (with the characters) in my book and attempted to say it. Light bulb! She got the box and handed it to me. Thankfully, the instructions and operating system required were in both Chinese and English. Unfortunately, that particular webcam only ran on Windows 7 and Windows Vista. At least, that's what it said, and I really didn't want to buy a webcam, get home and figure out it didn't work, and then have no idea how to return it.

I needed to communicate that I had a Macbook. I attempted in English. "Apple? Mac?" Nothing. Then, I remembered that my kids all knew iPad and iPod. I figured that if she recognized those words, she might get the point. "Apple. Mac. iPad? iPod? Steve Jobs?" Nope, nothing. She grabbed the cosmetics lady to help her. The phrasebook came back out.

I pointed to computer - ji suan ji (sorry, I still don't know how to write the tones in this blog.) Then, I said, "wo you mac. bu shi windows." Very, very poor Chinese that roughly means, "I have mac. No windows." I pointed at the part of the webcam box that said Windows Vista. She understood!! The two of them started looking at different boxes to see if any of them said anything other than Windows. Sadly, I wasn't able to find a webcam. "Me you," she said. I don't have it. Oh, well. "Okay. xiexie!" Thank you. At least I was able to, sort of, communicate. And she has a really sweet story about an American attempting to speak Chinese.

My next act of charades came once I left the supermarket and realized that I had completely forgotten the packing tape I needed to finish my bingo cards tonight. I was already almost home, and didn't want to go back, so I decided to hit up a few of the corner stores nearby that sell school supplies. I dropped off my groceries and grabbed the packing tape roll I had in my room.

I went into the first store. "Nin you zhege?" I said, while pointing at the packing tape. (Roughly, do you (polite) have this?). No luck at the first okay. "Me you".

Haha, side note, me you is pronounced more like "may yo" than how we would say the words in English. Again, not being able to write the accent marks that signify the tones really messes with what I'm typing.

Second store. "Nin you zhege?" She did have packing tape! Unfortunately, it had really odd pictures of children and umbrellas and ducks on it. The only word I had for "clear" in my phrasebook was to refer to an ATM. "Picture?" I asked, hoping she knew a little English. She did. I said, "No picture?" Nope, she didn't have clear.

Third store. They saw me coming. All of the stores are right next to each other. I had an audience of at least five or six people by this point. "Nin you zhege?" I asked the first man who I made eye contact with. He beckoned me inside. He held up a roll of packing tape that was much thicker than the one I had, but had a weird yellow tint to it. Ahh, crap. How to explain clear? He was older, and "picture" definitely didn't work with him. I showed him color - yan se in the phrasebook. "Wo yao zhege bu yan se". Roughly, "I need this no color". Yeah, no one said it was going to be pretty. It definitely confused him, because then he started handing me some of the weird picture packing tape. Seriously, who buys packing tape with anime people on it? Isn't the whole point of packing tape that it's clear? Anyway. I started pointing to my tape again, and pulled it out a little so he could see that it was clear, "bu yan se. clear." I said to him. I think he thought that I was confused because it was bigger, because then he started showing me with his fingers that his roll was bigger. I pointed to the part I had pulled off. "clear." Somehow, he understood me and pulled up a piece of the roll to show me that his was also clear, even though it has the weird yellowish tint. Relieved, I asked him how much, paid him, and left.

I better be the first person everyone picks to be on their team to play charades when I get home.

Teaching manners to 6th graders

Today, I borrowed Lauren's lesson plan on manners to teach to my Junior 1 kiddos. Yes, that's correct. I taught manners to 12 year olds.

Part of it was because they genuinely didn't know what a lot of those words were, and part of it was because I really wanted them to actually use manners in my classroom. I tried to incorporate some things that I don't really ever see here - such as hold the door, excuse me, cover your mouth, form a line, etc.

We went over the basics - please, thank you, you're welcome, etc. But, as usual, I only had a chalkboard and paper to work with. (Update on that situation - I'm going over to the school this weekend to see if I can get my computer to hook up to their projection screen. Test drive!)

To get the kids interacting with me, I would walk up and down the aisles and go up to random students, "May I borrow your _______, please? Thank you!" Then, I would prompt them to say, "you're welcome!" or, "You're welcome, Miss Mary!". For some of them, it was easy. For others, they could barely stutter out a "you're welcome" without looking at the board or having other students help them.

We also worked on, "I'm sorry!" and "That's okay!" I would walk up and down the aisles and pretend to drop things on their desks. "Oh no, I'm sorry!" "That's okay, Miss Mary!" Of course, some kids took this as an opportunity to goof off, but I would go up to them next. Once they had the spotlight of the class, they would stop goofing off and actually participate.

We practiced saying excuse me as you walk through a crowded area, and I had the kids stand up and block the aisles. I would say excuse me and wait for them to move so I could walk through. (Note: In China, this doesn't happen. People pretty much just push you out of their way.) It was really awesome, because at the end of class, I was able to say excuse me when I needed to get away from the desk, and the kids actually listened!

Holding the door was also pretty fun. First, I would hold the door and have a student that was close by walk through. Once they got the hang of what holding the door meant, I had volunteers form a line at the front of the classroom. This is a line! I wrote it on the board, but it didn't matter how many times I talked about lines and made them form lines, no one knew what I was talking about. Next class. Anyway, the volunteers would stand by the door, and I would come up to them and ask, "Can you hold the door, please?" They would hold the door for me as I passed by carrying something and I would say, "Thank you!", to which they would reply, "You're welcome, Miss Mary!"

We also practiced covering our mouths when we sneeze or cough and saying excuse me after. I'm pretty sure they all thought I was a bit of a lunatic by the time I got around to the point where I fake coughed and sneezed into my arm in front of them. (I had previously stuck my tongue out at them to show them how to pronounce "th".) Then, I would go around the classroom and ask people to stand up, fake cough while covering their mouth, and say excuse me. I would reply, "Bless you!"

We practiced saying I'm sorry vs. I apologize, good morning vs. good afternoon, goodbye vs. see you later, etc.

I still think it's hilarious to watch them when I walk up and down the aisles, because they're not used to having a teacher walk around the classroom. Any time I walk by a student, they whip around in their seat to watch me, but I don't know if it's out of fascination or fear of what I'm going to do next.

Also, I'm pretty sure a girl videotaped parts of my lesson on her cell phone. Coming soon to Youtube, Miss Mary's lesson on manners! Just kidding, Youtube is banned.

Thoughts on teaching

Update on the school nurse situation: Unfortunately, I was correct. There isn't a school nurse. When I asked Mr. Dong what I'm supposed to do if there's a sick student in my class, he just told me to send my classroom monitor to get the head teacher and they will "take care of the problem". I asked if there was a nurse or an office to send them to, and he looked at me quizzically and said no. Cool, China. Real cool.

Mr. Fu hit a child in one of my classes. With a book. Over the head. Last Friday, I was trying to teach my class about American middle schools, and get their opinion on what I told them. Then, I was trying to stage a mini-debate, where people thought of good things about Chinese schools and good things about American schools, etc. After making their lists, I asked people to share. Apparently Mr. Fu decided that children aren't supposed to talk in my ORAL ENGLISH class, and hit one of the kids in the head with a book.

Mr. Fu is quickly becoming my enemy.

Every Monday, we have a meeting with Mr. Dong, where we can ask him questions and tell him problems we're having with our classes or our apartments. This week, Mr. Fu decided to share some of his "observations" from watching our classes last week. This is a quick summary of the conversation he had with Emily:

Mr. Fu: "I noticed you were using big words that the children do not know. In the future, you should not use words the children do not know."

Emily: "...but I was teaching them the new words."

Mr. Fu: "If they do not know these words, you should not use them."

So, apparently, we're not supposed to teach them anything new.

After our meeting, we had Chinese lessons with Mr. Fu. And by lessons, I mean Mr. Fu read to us from a text book and wrote on a dry erase board with paint. Yes, paint.

We were in the calligraphy room, so each desk had a paintbrush and paint on it. You know, to use on paper. Well, about halfway through our riveting lesson, the dry erase marker ran out. Being the wonderful problem solver that he is, Mr. Fu decided to dip the dry erase marker in some of the calligraphy ink and write on the board. Even though we told him that it would stain the board because it was paint, he proceeded to write on the board with it anyway, and then point at it to show us how well it showed up. Well, yes. It was all fun and games until he attempted to erase it. All face has been lost.

Okay, enough about Mr. Fu. Some notes on my classes:

Last week, the Junior One classes didn't have lessons with foreign teachers, so it's been a while since I've been with my J1 classes. Spending all of last week with just my Junior Two classes really spoiled me. I kind of forgot how little English the J1 kids know. We attempted to play Jeopardy, but it took me at least 15 minutes just to explain the directions to them. After that fail of an afternoon, I decided to make what I'm going to call "Pronunciation Bingo" games.

Plus side: I'm using words that are harder for non-native speakers to distinguish between (pea vs. be, etc.) so the students can get used to hearing the difference. So, instead of calling out numbers to have them mark, I'll be calling out words...except most of the cards will have 2 or 3 words that may sound similar and the kids have to learn to differentiate between the two.

Down side: If we want photocopies of anything or to have anything printed off, we have to tell Mr. Dong a week in advance. Plus, we can only have 30 copies at a time. That works really well when my smallest class is 45. So, I decided to hand-make my Bingo cards. Actually cutting them and putting the words on them wasn't too bad. The only problem is that these kids are little destructive machines. If you give them a piece of paper, don't expect it back without it being torn, wrinkled, crumpled up and smoothed back out, or written on. In order to preserve my hand-made Bingo cards for use in multiple classes, I decided to "laminate" them using packing tape. Let's just say I spent at least an hour on them, and I only got through 12. I need these for Thursday morning. It's Wednesday afternoon. Should be a fun night!

My J2 classes this morning were awesome! I was a little hesitant about using the American middle school unit on them, because it was kind of hit and miss last week, but they were really great about it. It also probably helped that there were no head teachers in these classes.

These kids were really interested and they asked me SO MANY questions. There were some bizarre ones, like, "How much do Adidas tennis shoes cost in America?" and, "Can you draw a map of the United States?" and, "Do you play World of Warcraft?" but other than those, I had some really good questions:

1. What is the difference between public and private schools?
2. Do kids in America have to wear uniforms?
3. Do American middle schoolers have any important tests? (Meaning like the exams for college - I told them about the ACT/SAT.)
4. How many kids are in a class?
5. Do American middle schoolers have to take math class every year?
6. What kinds of things do they do in PE?
7. Why is lunch so short? Do they not have time for a nap? (This one was one of my favorites.)
8. What do kids do after school, since they get out so early? (They were fascinated by the idea of playing a sport for the school).
9. Why is passing time so short?
10. We talked about how American kids change classrooms and the teacher stays in his/her room all day - it's the opposite of China, pretty much.
11. How much homework do Americans have, and what type? (They were really jealous that we get to write papers in some classes instead of just tests - haha. Really, though, I do prefer papers.)
12. They were really fascinated by the idea of American kids being able to use the internet after school, and kept asking me what they did. Do they have QQ? Do they play games?
13. How often do they go to the library? (This one really threw me for a loop, because I'm pretty sure no American middle schoolers go to the library to study, other than maybe during study hall.)
14. Do American kids have to take Chinese? (They really liked it when I told them that Ankeny High School just started a Chinese program -- or is going to next year? I may have my facts wrong, but I know it's at least up and coming.) A lot of the kids are really jealous that we get to choose what foreign language we want to study, even though our only options are usually French and Spanish. That really put things in perspective for me, because I was always upset that we didn't have enough options for foreign language.
15. Do American kids study Chinese history? (Well...to be honest, uh, no. But I said that we usually study the history of other countries in high school - not a lie. We have European History. Crap.)
16. Can you teach us the history of the relationship between America and China?

They also wanted me to tell them the history of America, about September 11th, and about American holidays - especially Christmas. I promised them that I would make a powerpoint about each of those topics, which they got SUPER excited about. My 4th period class was so enthusiastic about asking me questions that they kept going, even after the bell rang. After I said class was over, at least 10 of them swarmed my desk to ask me more questions. The girl who had asked me about September 11th came up and told me, "I am sorry if my question made you sad, because I know it was very sad for your country." I told her that it was a very good question and that I was going to make a presentation about it so I could answer her question better.

Other notes on teaching.

They don't get the point of spelling tests. I have each of my classes do a spelling test at the beginning. I don't keep a record of their grades or anything, but I do correct them and give them back. The point of these is just so they can hear me saying the difference between words with "th", "s", "ce", etc. If they don't know the spelling of a word I say, though, they always say, "Teacher! Teacher! Can you tell me how to spell number four?" Then, when I tell them to guess how they think it sounds, they look confused. After I collect the papers, I write all the words on the board and we talk about their pronunciation. Today, the most difficult word was "force", because they all wanted to write "fourth". So, we practiced saying the difference between force, fourth, and false.

I'm currently making all of my classes practice pronouncing "th". If these kids learn nothing else from me this year, they will ALL be able to make that noise. Apparently, the Chinese English teachers tell them NOT to put their tongues in between their teeth when they said "th". I'm highly confused as to how anyone is supposed to make that noise without doing that. Anyway, I stood at the front of the class and told everyone to stick their tongues out at me. Of course, everyone looked very nervous and hesitant because it was quite the odd request. After I stuck my tongue out at them, however, they were much more comfortable doing it. Every time I put a word with "th" on the board and have them repeat it, I remind them, "Stick your tongues out at me!" They caught on to making the "th" noise surprisingly fast.

That's all I can think of to talk about now, and I should really get back to making those Bingo cards!

A collection of thoughts

It's been a while since I've posted a new blog entry, so here it goes. 


A lot of things have happened over the past week, so I'll try to recap as much as possible.


Yesterday (September 17th) was the official one-month mark of my adventure in China. That's one week longer than I've ever spent abroad, and it's also the week I got my Chinese residency permit. It's official - I'm an expat until July 2012. That is so bizarre.


There's a definite shift between visiting somewhere and living there. In the past, I've felt like three weeks was just right about at that point where the things that seemed like novelties of vacation are starting to get on your nerves, and you're ready to go home. You enjoyed your trip, of course, but it's time to sleep in your own bed and be surrounded by the familiarity of your own culture. I can feel some of those same tendencies here. Not in a bad, "I want to go home because I hate Chinese culture" way, but in a, "Jeez, I never really realized how much I appreciate America" kind of way.


The biggest thing that keeps getting to me, and I knew it would, is the way the government is always there. Always. Always making things inefficient. I know there are a lot of people who complain about the American government, and that's fine. But I feel like my entire life has been spent around our legislative system, and I'm in a love-hate-love relationship with it. 


In America, it seems like, if you truly want to, you can go months at a time without ever really thinking about or paying attention to our government. It's there, and you come into contact with it when it's time to pay taxes, if you break the law, etc., but it's not interfering with our basic, day-to-day lives. This isn't the case in China (at least for me). I've only been here a month, and I feel like I'm going to scream if I hear one more person say, "Well, the Chinese government..."


I'll lose my voice by tomorrow.


I can understand having the government play a big role in the beginning of our trip. Naturally, we had to jump through all the hoops to get our foreign expert permit, our residency permit, and our health certificate. I can imagine that anyone coming into the US (or any other country) on a year long residency permit would experience something similar. That's not a problem for me.


What is a problem for me is all the little things that I keep hearing about the Chinese government. For example, my FedEx box. I'll get to the full conversation I had with Chinese customs later, but I kept hearing, "The Chinese government does this...." Even though the FedEx website listed my package as being in Shijiazhuang since September 4th, that actually wasn't true. Apparently, the "Chinese government lists the final destination city, even if the box hasn't cleared customs yet." Cool. That makes absolutely no sense. If the box is still in customs in Beijing, WHY WOULDN'T THE WEBSITE JUST SAY IT'S STILL IN BEIJING?! Well, I'll tell you why. Because the Chinese government says so. The Chinese government has its hand in everything, including the FedEx website. It's everywhere.


Enough on the government. Nothing I have to say about it is truly a major concern. There are just a few little things that irk me because they stand out as different from America. But that's the reason I'm here! To learn how to get past the things that irk me and see how people live outside of my own American comfort zone.


Alright. This week was also the one year anniversary of when I said goodbye to my uncle Tony. I knew it would be a hard day, but I also knew it would be even harder being away from my family. It also marked a full circle for me. Tony's death was the spark of a year that almost spun out of control for me, as I had to say goodbye to two of the strongest people I know - Tony and my Great Gram. I also, clearly, made some life-altering decisions in choosing to move to China instead of continue straight on to law school after graduation. It was a tough weekend, because it was one that I would have preferred to spend in the comfort of my own, familiar church. Living abroad is the definition of improvisation, though. Not surprisingly, there is a lack of Catholic churches here in Shijiazhuang..but I was able to find candles to put in glass bowls, one for each of the people I lost, in a symbolic gesture of what it would be like to light candles for them if I were at home. They may not be here with me, but they're here in my thoughts, when I light my candles for them every morning when I get up. 


It was a trying weekend, but I'm proud of myself for getting through it without just staying in my apartment, stuck in my own head and thoughts. That's a huge part of the reason I came to China - to be able to rely on myself. 


Other things that have happened since my last post:


I applied for the first round of law schools. I applied to four schools, all of which are in my top preferences. Over the next week, I'll be applying to four more schools, as their applications open up. The last round of schools I want to apply to open their applications on October 1st, so hopefully I'll have everything in and over with by mid-month. Waiting is the hardest part, and I think only one of the schools I applied to makes rolling decisions. Cheers to April 1st!


Last weekend, I climbed to the top of a mountain just south of town. It was the most physically difficult thing I think I have ever done in my life. (Yes, including playing catcher in back to back softball games). 


The beginning of the climb started out very peaceful and easy. We walked for about an hour and a half before finding a place to eat lunch. It was so beautiful, and there were places along the trail where they had made picnic tables and chairs out of rocks for people to eat at. Three of the Drake kids had found ham, cheese, and bread at the supermarket near them, so they brought that along (as well as some very questionable mayo that no one ate). They also had Pringles, Chips Ahoy, two different kinds of dessert cake type things, crackers, yogurt, and Coke. We feasted like kings that day. Although I would have never chosen to eat ham back home, it tasted like a little slice of heaven after three and a half weeks of only Chinese food. There was a group of Chinese kids with us, and some of them tried a ham and cheese sandwich. You could tell as soon as they bit into the sandwich that they just couldn't understand what would possess us to eat such a thing. One of the kids was clearly struggling through his first bite. We could tell that he was trying to finish it because he didn't want to offend us. We just started laughing and told him it was totally okay if he didn't like it -- we weren't going to make him finish it! He just asked us, confused, "Is this what sandwiches taste like in America?" We assured him that most sandwiches were much better, because they were more than just plain meat and cheese on a slice of bread. He still didn't look reassured, and probably still thinks Americans are extremely bizarre for eating such a thing.


We kept walking after our meal, and the path started to get a little steeper, but still wasn't too bad. The total climb took us about four hours. The final hour or so was the absolute worst. We came to the road that marked the the next part of the hike, to be met with the steepest set of stone stairs I have ever seen in my life. These stairs went on for miles, and they were the last part of our hike to the top. That final hour was spent with many, many breaks, while we let our legs adjust to how many stairs we were climbing (hundreds!). I may never look at a Stairstepper the same in my life.


We finally made it to the top, and it was breathtaking. I can't find the numbers on how high the actual mountain is, but it was definitely a big one. We didn't realize until we got to the top and started to look around that it was actually the site of a Buddhist temple. Four of us girls took off exploring on our own, and that's when we realized why the mountain was so packed on a holiday weekend. The top was filled with every type of person - old men and women, all the way down to children. So many people were making a type of pilgrimage to the top of the mountain for the Autumn Festival. I couldn't think of a more beautiful place to come and reflect.


We wandered around the massive temple for at least an hour, taking pictures (both for ourselves and with Chinese tourists who wanted a memory of the Americans they met!). When we first walked in the doors, we met a group of Chinese girls making crowns out of flowers. I'm not sure what it signified exactly, but lots and lots of women were wearing them. They gave Emily and I each a crown made of vines and some sort of purple flowers. I'm really bad at identifying types of flowers. I wore mine the rest of the day.


We walked throughout the temple, stopping to see all of the statues and prayer sites. There was a tree, with red pieces of fabric tied all over the branches. People tie those pieces of fabric on the limbs for good luck, I believe. Anyway, pictures to come soon! (There are a few tagged ones on my facebook profile, for those of you who have FB). 


After walking through the temple, the four of us decided to walk back down the mountain by ourselves, as we couldn't find the rest of our group. (Turns out, they were in the temple at the same time as us, but we never saw them - that's how big it was!). The mountain had the original path that we had climbed, but it also had a flat road that you could walk up and down that was much easier on our legs. We started down the path, since we wanted to avoid having to walk down the steep stone steps that we had taken on the way up. We got to a point where it looked like the path was easier, and decided to take that on down. It looked like it would have taken us back to the beginning part of the path. We were wrong, but we didn't know what a pleasant surprise we were in for. 


As we started off down the new path, we quickly realized that it wasn't the same one we thought it was. We kept walking, though, wondering what we would find. After about 20 minutes of wandering down the "wrong" path, we stumbled upon a real-life monastery, buried deep in the mountains. We paused on the edge of the path, not sure if we were supposed to be there or not. We didn't want to disturb anyone.


I caught the eye of one of the monks, who smiled and beckoned us in, toward the temple. We paused, until the second monk followed his lead, smiling and bowing toward us. We walked over to them, bowed, and were shown into the temple. The monks gave us incense to light and showed us where to place it. We were then shown to the prayer cushions, where we kneeled as the monks stood over us with prayer beads and a bell and gong. It was a moment full of meaning. For me, it was a sign that I'm supposed to be here. We took the wrong path, but where we ended up was much better than the path everyone else took. Taking the road less traveled. 


The day we climbed the mountain was September 11, 2011. Again, it was a difficult day to spend away from home, away from the tributes to those who lost their lives and the American pride running through everyone. As we repeated over and over in the cab ride to dinner, "Who would have guessed that, ten years from 9/11, we'd be honoring the anniversary in China?" As we all ate our first taste of pizza in almost a month, we talked about the memories we had of the day... where we were, what we were doing, what we thought was going to happen in the world. It seemed surreal that it has been ten years already, but we honored it in the only way we knew how to while we were abroad.


To continue on with the theme of this post, which seems to be a complete collection of random thoughts, I've also had problems receiving the package that my parents sent to me on August 31st. It still hasn't arrived, though I'm holding out hope that I'll get it on Monday. Here's an excerpt of a message I sent to Blondie, describing my lovely conversation with Chinese customs:


"Today, I spent an hour of my afternoon yelling at Chinese customs on the phone. It was not one of my best moments, but DAMN it felt good.

Preview: “What do you mean for my own personal safety? The box is full of tampons, towels, and a pair of eyeglasses. Am I going to assault someone with a tampon?”

Okay. So, I clearly wasn’t at my best by the time I got to talk to a real, live, English speaking person, and he kind of got the worst of my temper thrown at him.

First, I got my phone working (FINALLY) last night, so I tried to call back the FedEx number that had originally called me about my package. The FedEx website said that my package left Beijing on September 2nd and got to Shijiazhuang on September 4th, but it was currently experiencing a “clearance delay”. I was like, seriously? It’s been in the Shiz for over TEN DAYS, and I still haven’t received it? Yeah. No one answered the phone last night.

So, I called again this afternoon. The phone rang for FIFTEEN MINUTES the first time I called. No one answered. I called back and finally got to an operator. She barely spoke English. She was able to take down my tracking number, then said, “3617” at me, and transferred me to another line. Once that guy answered, I asked him if he spoke English, to which he replied, “Uh. Um. Ohh.. Two minutes!” and then he hung up on me. 

By this point, I was UPSET. I was upset at the entire Chinese system of government. I miss America SO MUCH. I’m so sick of having my every move questioned by the government. I feel like I’m constantly being watched and questioned and monitored, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. This is a terrible place for someone like me to live. I love America too much to put up with this shit. But, I’m glad I’m experiencing it, because it makes me love America like a million times more.

So, I waited a few minutes, thinking maybe he was going to have someone call me back since he didn’t understand English. Wrong.

I called back and went through the whole entire process again, but this time I was transferred to an English speaking man in Beijing customs. This was where the fun really began.

It started out civil enough, and I gave him my tracking number, etc.

Me: According to the FedEx website, my package left Beijing on Sept. 2 and got to Shijiazhuang on Sept. 4th. Can you tell me why on earth it has taken over ten days, and yet I still haven’t received my package?

Him: No, your package is still in Beijing. They need your identification materials.

Me: No, they don’t. I have already sent them my passport copy via email. On Sept. 2nd. Quite a while ago.

Him: Who has told you that your package is no longer in Beijing?

Me: No one “told” me. Your website says that it left Beijing, arrived in Shijiazhuang, and is currently experiencing a delay. This is exactly what your website says, not what a person told me.

Him: No, sometimes the Chinese government just puts the destination city on the website before it clears customs. Do you understand?

Me: No. No, sir, I do NOT understand. That makes absolutely no sense to me. I don’t understand why it has taken this long, I’ve already been contacted by customs, and yet my package still hasn’t arrived. That makes no sense to me at all.

Him: Well, for your safety, it takes 5 to 7 business days to process new packages.

Me: That’s nice and all, but it’s been way past that. It’s been at least 10 business days and my package still hasn’t reached me. I only live two hours away from Beijing. This is completely ridiculous.

Him: Sometimes the Chinese government keeps packages for your own personal safety.

Me: What do you mean for my own personal safety? The box is full of tampons, towels, and a pair of eyeglasses. Am I going to assault someone with a tampon?

Him: Well, they may need to make a record of everything in your package.

Me: They have already done that. I received a list of everything in my package from Chinese customs when they contacted me to ask for my passport. They know what’s in my package. I don’t understand what is taking so long.

Him: This is for your own personal safety.

Me: That’s completely ridiculous. Nothing about this is efficient. This is the worst possible system I could think of for clearing packages.

Him: Well, they may need to mark it as personal baggage before it clears.

Me: Again, that makes no sense. It’s a FedEx box, not a suitcase. Can you please explain to me why this has taken over two weeks since arriving in your country? It left America on August 31 and arrived in China on Sept. 2nd. It’s taken longer to travel TWO HOURS in China than it did for it to travel across an entire freaking ocean.

Him: Okay, okay. Calm down. I will speak to someone and we will clear your package this afternoon.

He then gave me their customer service number. About fifteen minutes later, he sent me a text message from his personal phone, saying that my package was being cleared that afternoon. Only in China can a customs official take your number off a package and text you. That’s how my day went with no internet. Haha."




Since then, this unnamed man and I have been having text message conversations. Apparently, the issue has been that I needed to pay a duty tax on my package because of its weight. Instead of actually contacting me about it via email, as they had done for my passport information, they just decided to wait for me to call them and ask why I hadn't received my package. The man told me that I have to wait for the delivery man to get here, and I'm supposed to pay him. Hopefully he'll at least try to call me when he gets here. It will probably be my luck that I'll be in class when he arrives. Ugh. China. The lesson to be learned here is this: send smaller packages more often, instead of trying to pack everything into one box. 


The lesson to be learned in general is this: CHINA OWNS ME.


Next up on the conversation table is actually how teaching is going. You know, the reason I'm here and all.


One thing I've observed is that my school doesn't seem to have a school nurse. Now, this could very well be because of a lack of communication and language barrier, as I'm only basing this off of conversations I've had with students. I plan on asking Mr. Dong about it in our meeting on Monday. What happened was that there was a very sick student in one of my Wednesday classes. If there is a student in a class who speaks English better than the others, it is very common for that student to be the liaison between me and the rest of the class. One of the boys who sits close to the boy who was sick came up to me and we had the following conversation:


Student: "This boy (points) is very ill."


Me: "I can see that. Is there somewhere he can go?"


Student: "No, he just feels poorly."


Me: "Yes. I understand. Is there a nurse here at the school?"


Student, confused: "No...no nurse."


Me: "Okay. Is there a room he can go to lie down?"


Student: "No. He is just ill."


Me: "Is there somewhere for students to go if they are ill?"


Student, still confused: "No."


Me: "Are you saying no because you don't understand me, or no because there is not a place for him to go?"


Student: "I understand you. There is no place for him to go. He is just ill."


Left with really no options, I just let the boy move his desk to the back corner of the room and sleep during class. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do. I asked if he needed to go to the bathroom, and he said no, he just wanted to stay there. I find it mind-boggling that there isn't a school nurse or anything. What happens if a student falls in gym class and gets scraped up, or if a child vomits and needs to go home? What about the kids who live in the dormitories during the school year? I feel like there has to be some sort of medical facility here. How can there not be? I'm hoping Mr. Dong can shed some light on this tomorrow afternoon.


Oh, and we start our language classes with Mr. Fu tomorrow, so that should be interesting.


Back to my classes. Thursday and Friday, I experimented with having my classes hold a mini-debate. A lot of them had asked about American schools and American middle schools, so I thought I would take a class period to talk to them about how we do things at home. I wrote on the board an example of a typical American middle school schedule - how long the class periods were, passing times, what time school started and ended, etc. Then, I made a list of examples of classes they could take. The kids were really interested to hear that AHS started their first year of Chinese, even though it's at the high school and not the middle school. The kids were really jealous of American P.E. classes, too. I thought P.E. was the worst thing ever when I was in school, but I can't even image having to take it here in China! They have P.E. every day, and all they do is run. They run for the entire class period - almost 40 minutes! There were audible gasps when I told them that, in Ankeny as least, middle school students only have P.E. every other day. They wanted to know what kinds of things American kids get to do in P.E., and I told them we played ping pong and badminton, sometimes volleyball or kickball, that some kids do yoga or weightlifting, we've done line-dancing and rollerskating. I saw jaws visibly drop. I thought it was really interesting that P.E. was the thing they were most interested in asking me about. I only had one kid out of my classes ask me how much homework American middle school kids had. They also wanted to know about the class sizes. I told them that most classes were between 25-30, but some got as big as 35. I obviously have no idea of knowing if that is correct, but I think it was a pretty good guess. They couldn't believe how small it was.


I have to say that class size is one thing that I never really thought about as having a huge impact on teaching until I got here and actually had to corral a class of 45 or bigger. Obviously, I understood that a smaller class size was better, but I didn't really understand fully what the difference was between 25 and 35 students. Oh my gosh, it's huge! I have no idea how I'm supposed to get them to do group work or work in pairs. There's no way I can monitor the entire classroom and make sure everyone is staying on task. There's the same problem when I'm speaking to the class as a whole. I may notice one kid on the right side of the room reading a comic book, but while I'm telling him to put it away, there's a kid on my 
left side doing the same thing who I can't even see.


Back to the debate. In my first class, I split the room in two after my explanation of American middle schools and answering their questions. I told one half to write down five reasons why they thought the Chinese system was good. I told the other half to write down five reasons why they thought the American system was good. I avoided using the word "better" because I didn't want to make any value judgments on either system, and I'm not sure how well me even having this type of debate is going to go over. I wanted to keep everything on the safe side. That ended up being the best choice, because the head teacher came in at the end of the discussion!


After giving them time to brainstorm, I alternated between having each side have one person stand up and read something that they wrote. It wasn't exactly a debate, but they got the hang of it, and pretty soon some of them were "responding" to what the other had said. In my J2 C19 class, which is the class I see twice a week, there were two boys who stood out as my best debaters. One was on each side, which I really liked.


Based off the two debates in my Thursday and Friday classes, this what their thoughts boiled down to:


Pro-China:
- Harder classes, so smarter kids
- Easier to make friends, because they stay in the same classroom
- Healthier, because they have P.E. every day
- More discipline
- More focus on schoolwork over sports


Pro-America:
- Students have more choice in their classes
- Students have more types of homework (ie: papers, math assignments) instead of just studying for tests
- Students are encouraged to talk more in class
- Students have the option of playing sports and doing more than just schoolwork
- Students get to spend more time with their families, since they get done with school earlier and can have dinner at home


I was pleasantly surprised with how well the "debates" went, even though it took me quite a while to warm them up to talking about it. In both classes, I had a Chinese teacher observing, so I was even more surprised with the honesty I got from the students. I gave my Thursday class the assignment of writing me two paragraphs. I wrote two questions on the board for them to answer - 1. What do you think about American schools? 2. Which do you prefer - American or Chinese? The head teacher was in the back, so hopefully she was able to clarify to them that they were actually supposed to turn it in to me on Monday. Assigning homework like that isn't typical for Chinese teachers. The students just study a lot on their own. I'm really looking forward to what they say in their papers. Hopefully I'll be able to post some of their responses!


That's another thing I've noticed about Chinese students. They're much, much better at writing and reading than they are at listening and speaking. Most of them can write English quite fluently, but are very, very hesitant when it comes to speaking. That obviously isn't a surprise, because that's how I am with both Spanish and French. I can still read quite a bit of French, even though it's been 4 and a half years since I took any classes. Ask me to speak it to you, though, and I could probably only speak passable French 1 sentences. 


Chinese students and teachers are very much focused on making sure that their students pass the big test that they take at the end of high school, to go on to college. That test, naturally, doesn't involve actually speaking English on the English portion of the test. The students just need to be able to answer questions about grammar, sentence structure, etc., on paper.


Don't quote me on this next part, as I am far from being an expert on Chinese schooling. Chinese college students don't choose their majors in the same we we do in the US. We met a friend of the other Drake students, Bright, who majored in something to do with computers at college. He speaks English beautifully. He wants to get his masters in English, but he wasn't able to major in it in college. When he took his tests, he didn't score high enough to be allowed to major in English. His score put him the range of another major, so that's what he did.


Okay, I'm out of random thoughts. Sorry for the crazy length of this post. I'm still working on my lesson plan for this next week. Updates to come soon!

Teacher Appreciation Day

Friday was Teacher Appreciation Day in China. I was completely unaware of this fact until I walked into my first Friday class and had flowers shoved in my face. This was a welcome surprise, however, as this class had been known as my "devil class" up until the point that they gave me flowers. Although they were loud on Friday, they weren't nearly as bad as they were the week before. They were the first class to really get into the game and get competitive about their group winning.

So, we knew before hand that all of the Friday afternoon classes were cancelled for the foreign teachers, but we hadn't known why. About 15 minutes before my class on Friday morning, Mr. Dong showed up at my door. I was excited to answer, because I thought it would finally be my package from my parents.

Wrong.

He wanted to invite me to a Teacher's Day ceremony downtown. Of course, I said yes. I couldn't say no and offend him. He told me to be ready at 2 PM. No big deal. Then, I asked if I should tell the other girls to be ready. Turns out, he was only asking me. He said no, he only had one ticket.

Okay, that seemed a little weird. It still does. I don't really know why I was the only one that he chose to speak and to go to this ceremony thing.

Needless to say, I wasn't exactly thrilled about spending two hours of my Friday afternoon in downtown Shijiazhuang with Mr. Dong and a bunch of teachers who don't speak English. I was pleasantly surprised with the show, though.

We took a taxi downtown and ended up at the Hebei Arts Museum. I guess it wasn't just a ceremony; it was a full-on theater show that included a ton of teachers throughout the province. It was really neat. The beginning was just a panel of government people talking about how important teaching is.

Then, the show really began. The next hour and a half was a combination that can only be described as: glorified dance recital/singing competition/party manifesto.

There were kids of all ages performing - from about 3 years old up to teenagers. Some of them sang, while the other dances. In between each act, they showed a video about teachers from different schools. It was really neat. Then, it started to get weird.

There was a band that came out to play some music. If I had to guess, I'd say the oldest child in the band was about 11 or 12 years old. They played very well, though. So, they played one song that had some video in the background about teachers. Nothing unexpected. Next, though, they started to play this old war song. Projected on the big screen was a video of Chinese soldiers killing Japanese ones. I know this because Mr. Dong leaned over and said, "This is the story of the Chinese fighting Japan!" He punctuated each word by hitting his fist against him palm. Cool. Apparently, that was the hand signal the song inspired in everyone around me. Awkward.


After the song, they took the band off the stage and more dancers came out. We got a little bit of a breather.

Okay, so does everyone remember the book about the Tiger Mother and all the controversy around it? It was the mom who basically ran her daughters lives like a dictator, never allowed them to have sleepovers, watch TV, etc. Basically, she was trying to say that she was the typical Chinese mother.

At the ceremony, they played this extremely creepy tribute video to this Tiger Mother, and made fun of the articles that had came out in the US that criticized her way of raising her daughters. If that wasn't creepy enough for you, the next part will be.

They brought out two teams - four boys against four girls. This was the way Mr. Dong described it to me: "There are two teams, and they are having a debate. One team is arguing for the western style of teaching; the other team is arguing for the Chinese style of teaching. The Chinese team is going to win, of course". Sweet debate, dude.

So, after this riveting "debate", there was something I like to affectionally call, "Ballroom Dancing for Mao". All of these girls came out in these flowy red dresses, with their partners in tuxedos with matching red ties. As they ballroom danced, there was a tribute video to Chairman Mao playing in the background.

Then, the ceremony was over.

The ceremony ended right around rush hour in Shijiazhuang, so I walked for about 45 minutes with Mr. Dong and Mr. Fu, trying to find a taxi. Right as it started to rain, we finally found one. We dropped Mr. Fu off at his apartment, and then Mr. Dong insisted on taking me out to dinner to thank me for coming to the ceremony. (I'm also supposed to write a few paragraphs about it for them to put on the school website).

We went to one of my favorite restaurants on Wenyuan St. to have dinner. While at dinner, we proceeded to have a very interesting conversation. During this conversation, Mr. Dong touched on the following topics:

1. Why do Americans want to kill all communism? (Yes, he said communism, not communists).
2. Some Chinese students still hate Japan, and refuse to learn Japanese from one of the other foreign teachers.
3. How "open" China is politically. Although, he was trying to argue that China is more open now than it was under Mao. Okay, sure, I'll give you that. But, um, you're not going to convince me that China is more open politically than the US.
4. How he disagrees with the US style of teaching and parenting because kids are never "forced to do anything".

And many other uncomfortable topics.

These kind of put me in an unusual position, because I was trying to balance my desire to debate him on certain things with my need to not offend him.

Teaching in a classroom with limited resources

At this point in time, these are the resources I have available to me as an English teacher: a chalkboard, chalk, 2 notebooks, a pad of looseleaf paper, pens, one red pen, one set of markers, a pair of scissors, and 2 rolls of tape.

How does one teach a foreign language with those materials?

This is a question I am very, very slowly figuring out. So far, I've only had introductions in all of my classes, and then two classes this afternoon that I met with the second time. Not only do I not have very many resources, but I only see these kids for 40 minutes once a week.

Today, I started a routine that I'm hoping to continue throughout the semester: spelling tests. English is a very difficult language to figure out, because it is often not phonetic. There are also a lot of sounds in the English language that are hard for Chinese students to figure out - the difference between the "s" noise and the "th" noise; the difference between using a "c", "s", or "z", etc. I gave them some words that I thought they already knew - North, South, East, West; and some that I thought they didn't. The ones they didn't know made them almost angry. "Teacher! We don't know that word!" I know. I told them to sound it out. I pronounced it slowly and loudly. I over-emphasized the "th" in some words, the "r" and "x" in others. They're not used to having it be okay to be wrong. One of my rules I told them on the very first day is that mistakes are okay. Many of my students wrote, "I'm sorry, I don't know" on their papers. I wrote back, "That's okay! Today, you learned how to spell a new word."

I played a jeopardy game with them, to get them up and out of their seats, and used to moving around. The kids are used to sitting in the same seat, all day, every day. The more they get up and moving, the more likely they are to talk. Explaining directions in English is one of the most difficult things to do, and I found out on my first day that telling them they need to break into "groups" doesn't work. I numbered them off, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6", and then had them go around the classroom and finish it themselves. Once they were done, I had everyone stand up. They all looked around nervously. I started pointing to certain areas of the classroom. Number ones - in the front! Number twos - back corner!

They almost didn't believe me. "Really?!?" I heard that a lot. Yes! Move! The Junior 1 class actually stayed standing in their groups, and they were the most rambunctious. Instead of staying with their group and listening to me read the question, they would all rush up to my desk to be as close as possible. Whatever. It still worked, and they answered questions.

The Junior 2 class actually still sat down in desks once I told them what area of the classroom to sit in. One roadblock I keep running into is that the Chinese teachers hear some of the commotion coming from my classroom, and then they come in and sit in the back because they think I need help with discipline, when I had wanted the noise, and asked for them to speak and move around. That happened in this class. The teacher came and sat in the back, just watching them like a hawk. Any time the teams would whisper because there was a chance they would be stealing the question, she would glare at them. I told her at the beginning of class that I was going to be playing a game with them and they needed to talk.

The game, though, went very well. There were some hard questions and some easy ones. They knew most of them, so that was good to know. But, most of all, they were standing up and talking, and it wasn't always the same person from each group. When they knew the answer, they got excited. Sometimes when the group who had been asked the question was still thinking, other students would wave their hand in the air to get my attention. "No, it is group three's turn to answer the question. We are doing group work now."

It's really hard for me, because I know that next week I'm going to have to start introducing  new vocabulary to them. I want to do a unit on asking directions with the Junior 1 classes and a unit on ordering in a restaurant with the Junior 2 classes. But, how do I introduce new vocabulary when I can't tell them what a word means in Chinese? When we learned foreign languages in school, we had teachers who knew both. They were able to tell us perro - dog. They didn't have to try to explain what "perro" meant with absolutely no application back to our native tongue.

There are only two ways I can think of to get around this. One, to write the new word on the board in English, and then put the pinyin next to it. I would have absolutely no idea how to write it in characters, and would NOT want to try. But, at the same time, how often do these kids even use pinyin anymore? I don't think they use it that often.

My second, and preferred, method would be to take a picture off the internet to put on the board next to the word in English. This would make it SO MUCH easier. Problem: I don't have a printer in my apartment, and, as far as I know, I don't even have access to a printer at the school. I truly don't know what to do.

There are so many kids in my classes. One thing that always helped me in my foreign language class was to actually have to get up in front of the class and speak. Our French classes were tough -- in our 5th year, we actually had to get up and give a 10 minute speech with no notes. We could only take up a few pictures to remind us of the topics we wanted to talk about. But, it really forces you to think on your feet. You can't have a rehearsed script; you can only have a general idea of what you want to talk about.

But, when I have a class of 45-58 and only a 40 minute time slot, how do I even get them up in front to speak? Sure, I could do half the class one period, and half the class the next, but that's an entire week in between class times. I don't know how that would work. The class size is also a problem when it comes to group work. Sure, I can make them partner up and have conversations with each other. But it just isn't humanly possible for me to walk around that classroom and monitor to make sure everyone is speaking in English. I'm at a loss for what to do.

Lauren wants to do oral midterms for her class. I would love to do that, but how? My smallest class is 45 students. That would allot less than a minute for each student to speak with me one-on-one. Plus, time in between for them to go back into the classroom and get the next student to come out to the hallway. Again, there is splitting the class in half, but it doesn't seem fair to give the other half an extra week to prepare.

It's frustrating, because there is so much I want to teach them. Judging from their notes on the first day of class, there's a lot they want to learn, too. Those huge class sizes are just so inefficient.

I would do almost anything for the most basic American classroom right now. A projector screen seems like it would be a gift from God. A printer from 1995 would be like Christmas morning. I'm truly at a loss for what to do next. Every time I try to plan a lesson, I'm hit with a roadblock because of a lack of resources.

(Oh, did I mention that the head teacher gave me a total glare when I told the kids that I was really proud of how well they did at the game? Ugh.)

I'm not trying to say that the Chinese system of teaching is bad, per se. It's just so, so different from the American one. It's focused on behavior and memorization. It's just hard to see how jumpy and different the kids become as soon as one of their head teachers steps in the door.

I'm frustrated because it feels as though we're here as more of a status symbol than as someone who is actually expected to teach students English. See, look how prestigious our school is! We have foreign English teachers! I don't know how they can even expect us to succeed in teaching their children when we aren't given access to the materials we need. We're not even given an assistant or someone who knows Chinese to help us translate things to the kids. It's not impossible, but it sure is going to be difficult.

I'm frustrated because I'm here to teach. I have so many ideas, and no way to implement them.

Notes from class

Every single day, something new and hilarious happens in my classes. I've been trying to take notes so I can write them down here later. Here are some of the notes I've been hoarding over the past few days.

1. I have a student who wants to be called "Shack". Not Shaq. Shack. Alright.

2. Previously, I had wondered if the name Mark meant something else in Chinese. I asked Jack about it, and yes. It does. It is apparently extremely similar to the Chinese word for "motherfucker". I'll have to make sure the Marks in my classes change their names or something.

3. Everyone here is obsessed with Tom and Jerry. I think I'm going to try to find an episode and make a study guide with questions for them to answer.

4. Some of my kids know really random facts about America. One of my girls wrote to me, "I remember the north and south have battle. I remember north had free black men fight in battle". I think it's interesting that they learn about the Civil War, especially since I know next to nothing about any in-depth Chinese history. We only really had European history, not Asian.

5. I also think that "bin Laden" means something dirty in Chinese. I've been having my kids tell me what they think of when they think of America, so I can see what they know and how well they can express themselves in English. One of the boys in my class today had written something down on a piece of paper and was trying to raise it up and show it to me instead of saying it aloud. I asked him to pass it forward so I could see it, and he had written two Chinese characters. Under one it said, "bin" and under the other, "ladan". He absolutely refused to say it out loud, though, and when I said, "bin Laden?" the entire class started laughing. Saying just "Osama", however, doesn't get the same response.

6. I don't know who/what Mr. Bean is, but they all love him. I've had at least three boys who want their English name to be Mr. Bean.

7. They don't know the difference between Mr., Miss, and Mrs. I use my name card, which says, "Miss Mary", to show them how to make their own for their desk. I had lots of my boys write "Miss Todd" or "Miss Jeff" or "Miss Jack" (three popular names) on their cards. I wrote on the board "Boys - Mr." and "Girls - Miss", and they changed it. They also have been calling me "Mrs. Mary", which makes me feel extremely uncomfortable.

8. Not only did one of my classes know about Osama bin Laden, they also shouted out Saddam and Gaddafi. Sweet. All I could think when I heard Gaddafi was, "remember that time when we found papers that said your government is probably guilty of selling guns to Gaddafi after the UN ban?" I wonder how they know about Gaddafi, and what they're being told about him. I really, really need to find a Chinese news source translated into English.

9. Sometimes, the kids in my classes get really upset if I erase the chalkboard when I first walk in or right before I leave. There's always one kid in class, and it's their job to clean the chalkboard. They almost always run up and take the eraser out of my hand. Not during class, but before or after. Quite interesting. The fact that the children are in charge of cleaning the school probably explains why it's so dirty and the bathrooms smell so bad. Who really expects 11-17 year olds to do a good job cleaning a building?

10. I still hate chalkboards.