my first 1st place + more unrealeased footage

Well, my first 1st place in a contest unrelated to math or spelling.

This morning when I got to work, I was informed that there would be an all-teacher race around campus in the afternoon, and that I would be participating. I never know what to expect with this kind of sudden announcement, so I wore my regular clothes to work (jeans with tights underneath - it's getting chilly! - and a long-sleeve shirt.

Turned out the race was quite a production; all 700 teachers lined up, with ~400 men running first and ~300 women running after they had finished. The beginning of the race was the several-hundred-meter hill leading up to the ISS (I'm trying to give up exaggeration for 2009, so I restrained myself from using the word "mountain") and I got to the top with my lungs burning. But there is something about having your students cheer you on that makes pain disappear, and I continued at a near sprint. I soon passed the one teacher ahead of me - Lisa, my POI co-teacher and one of my favorite people in China (she got first last year, but didn't seem the least bit resentful that I stole her glory). I have ran in quite a few races and never even been at the front, and I don't really care to do it again. It was a really odd feeling; I kept checking back over my shoulder, half-hoping someone would pass me. No one did. So yes, I got my very first first place. For which I apparently win a blow-dryer and some shampoo. (Wonder if the men get the same prize?)

I keep coughing now and my lungs still hurt, so maybe there's a good reason I don't usually push myself this hard when I run. But regardless, I'm going to be fully enjoying that shampoo, and blow-drying my hair with a whole new sense of pride.

* * *

In other breaking news, my endless kung fu dance practice have finally ended; we performed last night on stage in a big teacher's production. Each department within the school put on one act, meaning that all 700 teachers who ran today were also in attendance last night. I sat next to the Vice Principal, a very quirky and outgoing lady who told me, "This show - very Chinese. We show teachers have fun, then televise, then everyone wants to teach at Tsinghua. Much propaganda."

Andy taped the second half of our dance on my camera, and I thought I might as well take advantage my newfound video-posting capabilities to show you what exactly I've been rehearsing during the past month(s).

Also, family: our principal has promised me a copy of the televised version of the show, so if you're interested in catching the intro - which features Jaris and I in a ridiculous pose, center stage - I'll be happy to share it when I return.

* * *

Finally: I leave for Phuket, Thailand tomorrow, so this will be my final opportunity to wish you all a 新年快乐 (happy new year), or as they often say in China, 恭喜发财 ("congratulations and be prosperous"). I hope 2009 finds you in peace.

a 5 minute glimpse into a chinese classroom

Exclusive footage from today's Year 2 POI class...

Okay, so it's not really teaching - more of help-the-students-with-the-review-worksheet session - but I figured this would be the best way to show you what teaching in China is all about. And besides, if a picture is worth a thousand words, a video should be at least a couple million. (In that case, I'm done writing until 2010!)

Side note: Yes, I taught Year 2 students "Native American." What can I say... We made teepees for our unit on homes, and I wanted to be politically correct. Guess that's what happens when you put an untrained foreign teacher completely in charge of developing the curriculum!

december 25 in 中国

Shèng Dàn Kuài Lè = Merry Christmas!

First, thank you thank you thank you for all the emails, cards, and messages that kept me in the loop at Christmastime. Good news: my holiday homesickness has subsided and I can fully look forward to my post-holiday visit home.

So what did I do for my very first eastern-hemisphere Christmas?

1. Electronics market
The weather was beautiful - about 75 and sunny - so in the morning I took the subway downtown and shopped at the huge electronics market in Shenzhen. It was the same market I visited on my very first day in China, and I remember being completely overwhelmed by the endless sights, jumble of Chinese characters, and constant awareness of eyes watching me.

I would argue that the market is inherently disorienting - seven floors of electronic equipment, with different products and accessories on each floor, and endless booths jammed in together all selling more or less the same items. However, this time it hardly phased me. Instead I gloried in the perfect competition induced by having identical products in side-by-side shops. I was able to barter with several different sellers, leveraging their offers against each other, to get the best possible price on a camera (yes, in Chinese - I really am getting better at this!). I didn't even realize until I was walking out that I had been in the exact same place and setting exactly 3 months ago, in a totally different mindset. Realizing what an adjustment I have made to my new living conditions makes me a bit nervous to return to the United States. At this point, Best Buy and Circuit City seem part of a dream world.

2. Party prep
After returning got back to Bao'an, I spent the afternoon playing video games with Jaris. I was anxious to have my mind taken off of the whole Christmas thing, and Mario and Donkey Kong did a pretty good job of that. After a couple hours of vegetating, Jaris decided to organize a party for the ISS teachers at his place, so we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening getting supplies and food.

My most memorable moment from Christmas day may have been the return trip from Carrefour. Taxi drivers here are always reckless and often quite frightening, but this guy took "fast" to a whole new level. He tore around corners, pulled u-turns, crossed sidewalks, and weaved in and out of traffic as if the world were about to end - blasting American techno all the while. As my life flashed before my eyes, I gripped the headrest in front of me and begged Jaris to tell the man to slow down. He didn't. But amazingly we made it back safely... and covered a normally 15-minute drive in only 4.

3. Celebration!
The party with the ISS teachers was fun - they brought some Chinese food from a restaurant and also cooked a couple dishes to accompany them. Later we joined with a few of the LC teachers and headed to a club. The super-loud blasting music gave me the only push I needed to go home and call my family (who put me on speakerphone and then sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas") before going to sleep with the relief of having survived a lonely holiday.

Jaris and I our kung fu dance at the Bao'an club

* * *

Disclaimer: I shouldn't make it sound like my teaching program steamrolled Christmas altogether; we did do a Secret Santa gift exchange and went to an all-you-can-eat Western buffet on the 26th. Quite a relief, actually, because it just wouldn't be Christmas without the ensuing food coma...

The CCs ("Chinese Contacts," or Chinese teachers at the LC) at our holiday gift exchange)
All-you-can-eat Christmas buffet

I don't want to live on the moon

Christmas tree and lights outside of a Shenzhen department store

Merry Christmas!

Teaching + traveling + preparation for parents' day at the ISS this morning (yes, on Christmas Eve) have given me little time to consider the Christmas season that is in full swing at home, 7,7478.48 miles away. So up until now the pre-break craziness has kept me from feeling homesick, and much of the time even remembering that I am not home.

Then, this morning, as the last students left the ISS with their parents, Cindy (Chinese teacher) asked me about my Christmas plans. I admitted that I didn't really have any. The school director would host a dinner for the foreign teachers on the 26th, and we were doing a Secret Santa gift exchange, but the rapidly approaching holiday still felt overwhelmingly foreign. In her friendly conversational way, Cindy asked what I would normally be doing, and I explained: the 23rd I celebrated with my immediate family, the 24th with my dad's side, the 25th with my mom's. I told her that my family had already celebrated Christmas, and had compensated for my absence by hanging my picture on the tree, and that if I were at home I would probably be out cross-country skiing with my family right now. At the end of my rushed sentences, I felt my voice growing flat and distant, and I had the same sensation as during the kung fu dance practice: either quit or cry. I think Cindy realized this and she halted her questions.

When I signed a Sept-Feb contract, I knew that Christmastime would be the hardest time to be away. So for now, I'm going to treat the holiday just like any other happy China day: I'll go out to lunch for some nice (take a guess!) Chinese food, practice my kung fu dance with the other teachers, go for a run in the 70 degree sun.... and listen to Ernie, on repeat:

Well, I'd like to visit the moon
On a rocketship high in the air.
Yes, I'd like to visit the moon,
But I don't think I'd like to live there.
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places and people I love,
So although I might like it for one afternoon,
I don't want to live on the moon.

I'd like to travel under the sea.
I could meet all the fish everywhere.
Yes, I'd travel under the sea,
But I don't think I'd like to live there.
I might stay for a day there if I had my wish,
But there's not much to do when your friends are all fish,
And an oyster and clam aren't real family,
So I don't want to live in the sea.

I'd like to visit the jungle,
Hear the lion's roar;
Go back in time and meet a dinosaur.
There's so many strange places I'd like to be
But none of them permanently.

So if I should visit the moon,
Well, I'll dance on a moonbeam, and then
I will make a wish on a star,
And I'll wish I was home once again.
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I may go,
I'll be coming home soon,
'Cause I don't want to live on the moon.
No, I don't want to live on the moon.

the city of superlatives

I've been teased sometimes about using overly strong language (yes, Dad, I'm thinking of you) - "good" becomes "best"; "bad" becomes "totally inexcusable"; "nice" becomes "sweetest girl in the entire world"; "smells bad" becomes "gag me with a pitchfork." So maybe Beijing is a good city for me - where the Wall and the Hall of the People are Great, the City is Forbidden, it is not merely a temple but is a Temple of Heaven...

Yet despite the hype built into the naming system, none of the Beijing monuments let me down. Once again, I'll let my photos do the talking.

The Great Wall at Badaling:

























The Forbidden City, and the very famous Chairman Mao portrait at its entrance - well-guarded by an entire very serious-looking security team, as well as camera-equipped vehicles:
Tiananmen Square, a focal point of China's recent history:
A night market famous for its disgusting food choices (scorpions, seahorses, grasshoppers, etc):










I would also have a picture of the Peking duck from Saturday night but due to an unfortunate camera incident it no longer exists. But yes, China's most famous dish was part of a long list of Beijing highlights... Although I chickened out (ducked out?) before trying a bite of the head.

the Olympics are never over in Beijing

At least, not until they run out of merchandise.

From the initial landing in Beijing (北京, or "North Capital"), the "Beijing 2008" Olympic logo blanketed storefronts, signs, and merchandise. I initially decided I would keep a tally of the the Olympics signs I saw during the weekend; I realized only a few moments later that the idea was totally impractical. From the gigantic "One World, One People" sign erected next to one of the towers of the Great Wall, to the 5 Olympic rings painted on regular intervals on the asphalt of major highways, to the Bank of China adopting the rings into its business logo... the aftermath of Olympic fever was inescapable.

However, in some ways I was grateful for the Olympics, as it prompted a city purification - in contrast with the horror stories I had heard about Beijing pollution, I actually thought the air seemed less toxic than in Shenzhen. My guidebook from 2007 claimed that "living in Beijing was equivalent to smoking 70 cigarettes a day." This is a ridiculous claim, since equivalence is given here by an unspecified measure, but it gave me an explanation for the overload of mucus and dry, hacking coughs I get after biking through Shenzhen - put in terms of cigarettes, it makes sense that the raw pollutants in the air would actually make it painful to breathe. I did not experience this in Beijing, and was actually able to see buildings and mountains in the distance, although there was still a bit of visible haze hanging in the air.

Aside from the overdose of Olympics and the pollution, Beijing was a really amazing and enjoyable city, enhanced by constant comparisons to Shenzhen. In Beijing, a vast majority of the people on the streeets - particularly during this very non-touristy season - were Chinese. But I received no staring and heard no one use the word for foreigner. In this cosmopolitan city, it seemed that the general public was pretty uninterested in seeing a blonde American.

But wait - the population of Shenzhen is about 13 million, and it's been the fastest-growing city in China for much of the last decade. Shouldn't it have the same big-city vibe as its big brother Beijing? There is a pretty simple explanation, I think (although this is my own speculation, so don't quote me at dinner parties): in the 1970s, Shenzhen was a small fishing village. It was built up as a "Special Economic Zone" or SEZ beginning the 1980s, and the population that has come since was drawn mostly from rural villages. So the people who stare at me in Bao'an - a faraway factory-filled district - are at most one generation removed from rural China. Despite the fact that they now live in a huge city, the city is still relatively homogenous (Chinese) and - living on the outskirts - they have likely never seen a white person in their entire lives. I would stare, too...

Since my return, I've begun to see Bao'an and its inhabitants in a new light. Strangely, it parallels the way I reconsider the US, or Minnesota, or even North St Paul, after traveling to new areas - as always, seeing something new broadens your perspective of "home."

* * * * *

I'm not finished!! Great Wall, Tiananmen Square, The Forbidden City, and seahorse on a stick: pictures to be posted soon.

a few of my favorite things

One of my friends at home asked me for a "5 best" list of top moments since I've arrived in China. Corny question, but it got me thinking about what I have really loved about my travels so far, and which parts I'll be remembering for a very very long time.

I have had so many surreal moments, and my blog has recorded many of them: seeing the giant Buddha on Lantau, splashing in the ocean tide off the coast of Thailand, walking away several hundred dollars richer at a casino in Macau, standing dumbfounded by the gorgeous skyline of the cosmopolitan Hong Kong islands, biking through crazy Shenzhen traffic, long meals with friends at Chinese restaurants... But when I think of the moments when I have actually been the very happiest, at the top of my being, they have all taken place in the classroom. So I still haven't come up with a neat top-5 list for your easy-reading pleasure, but I have come to the conclusion that I need to devote a bit more of my blog to my students, who are a huge part of my life here in Shenzhen. Here are a few stories and student profiles to kick it off...

• Charles is a top student in both my 4th-6th grade English class and my Year 5 POI. His family lives in Hong Kong, but he has Canadian citizenship and a hint of a British accent. Even when I am angry with him I cannot help but laugh. One time, after I told him I wouldn't call on him if he kept being so noisy, he stamped his foot and said, "Teacher, if you don't choose me, I will become bored and will no longer participate in class." Thank you, Sir Child Prodigy. Now please sit down and restrict yourself to language your classmates will comprehend...
• In both of these classes with Charles is another student named William, and if he knew he was making an honorable mention in my blog right now I'm sure he would be shocked. His English isn't great (once, when Charles found out he and William both scored 38/40 on a test, Charles buried his head in his hands and cried in despair, "I got the same score as William?! WILLIAM?!") but he is really ahead of his peers in other ways. Once, he was trying to explain "clone" to me. He held up a piece of paper: "Like this, Teacher, except when you make more that are same... Yes, copy. Except not paper. Baaaaa. Baaaaa." When I guessed clone, he knew immediately that I understood; the Chinese word sounds almost identical.
• Ben and Coco. I couldn't do the roll call of awesome students without mentioning these two. Actually, I could probably write an entire blog entitled "Adventures of Ben and Coco" and never tire of it (although my readership might wane). Their adorableness is only enhanced by their sponge-like English abilities; they couldn't speak a word of English in September and now I rarely hear a word of Chinese.

"Fat teacher can swim." Yes, the arrow at the bottom, pointed to the bloated and horizontal teacher, says "Amber." Good thing I'm not sensitive. (Not to mention that before this, Ben told me, "Teacher, you so small. So small! I will..." and then made a crunching motion with his hand, dropped an invisible object onto the floor, and squashed it into the tiles with his foot.)

• In my Year 2 POI, I am absolutely infatuated with each of my seven students. They might be my most diverse group: I have representatives of Taiwan, Hainan, Hong Kong, mainland China, Canada, Korea, and Honduras (seriously; ranks up there with my Year 5 from Zimbabwe). So for now I'll tell a tale of Brian, who is Ben-and-Coco-like in his ability to learn English, and hilarious in what he creates with his limited vocabulary. During our "home" unit, I had the kids build teepees out of chopsticks and a cut-up old T-shirt, and then design their own teepee on a sheet of paper. Brian drew elaborate geometric patterns on his teepee, and smiling monkey clinging to the top, shooting a banana to another monkey on the corner of his page, and a line of chefs carrying steaming platters of hamburgers wrapped all the way to the back of the paper. Each time he added more, he looked up at me with a super-intense smile across his face and bellowed, "TEACHER! COME LOOK!" I couldn't even be mad at him for yelling. Actually, to be honest, it's pretty hard to imagine getting mad at him for anything.

• Then of course there are my high school students, who can be an adolescent pain - like I was, 6 short years ago?! - but are awesome in their ability to actually communicate ideas and think creatively. The Chinese school system seems to do a pretty good job squashing the originality out of its students, but my Korean students never cease to crack me up. My Overseas Chinese class of 10 has a wide range of English abilities, from near-fluent Colin to barely-squeaking-by Joshua (pronounced Joe-SHWA, which is apparently what his Korean teacher believed to be the proper way to say his name). In a 3-paragraph argumentative essay on whether it is better to attend school or live on the street, Colin put together a cohesive argument for dropping out of school, because "advanced theory is useless for uninterested students" while "a student interested in music might be able to pursue that career if he didn't need to waste time at school." Joshua supported the opposite argument, writing: "Live on street not good. For example, attack by mosquito. Very, very annoy."

And now, typing those stories, I'm smiling all over again and wondering how I ever get frustrated with teaching. Ah, well... If law school doesn't work...

travel plans

My recent ticket purchases (each of the dashes represents one flight):

• Shenzhen - Beijing - Shenzhen
  
• Shenzhen - Bangkok - Phuket - Bangkok - Shenzhen
• Shenzhen - Shanghai - Xi'an - Shenzhen
• Shenzhen - Kota Kinabalu
• Kota Kinabalu - Jakarta
• Jakarta - Bali - Jakarta
• Jakarta - Batam
• Kuala Lumpur - Ho Chi Minh City
• Bangkok - Hong Kong

I realize that's quite a list. However, I do have about two months to accomplish this, and aside from the first two (Beijing will be this weekend, and Phuket will be New Years), I'll be packing 8 countries into a solid month of travel. Good thing I just got more pages added to my passport...

Also, for those of you who are thinking, "What kind of budget is she on?! I could never afford to do this!": Travel within Southeast Asia is dirt cheap. I'll be doing a lot of overland travel too (i.e., Batam - Singapore - Kuala Lumpur; Ho Chi Minh - Phnom Penh - Angkor - Bangkok) but much of the distance is actually cheaper to cover by air. Most of these one-way flights are less than US$50.

Finally, an extra-exciting piece of travel news: I'll making a return trip to the US between my stays in China and Kenya. I haven't booked tickets yet (as you can see from the absence of "Minneapolis" from the list above) but it looks like I will be home Feb 8 - Feb 20. And for those of you reading this from my second home in Madison, Wisconsin, of course I will arrange a trip there too. Exact dates and details TBA... Gotta leave a little suspense to keep you engaged for the next chapter. ;)

completely unblogworthy

Here I am, in Shenzhen, China - a mostly unexplored city packed with interesting pieces of Chinese culture; just an hour from Macau, Hong Kong, and Guangzhou; and only a short flight away from a half-dozen Southeast Asian countries. And what did I do this weekend? Well, I finished a few loads of laundry. I corrected papers and wrote lesson plans. I booked flights for New Years and my month-long vacation after the semester. I ran to Wal-Mart to pick up some tape and body lotion. I made coffee, watched movies, and read.

Spending 48 hours without doing anything worth mentioning makes me realize: This is my actual life, and not a crazy extended vacation. But in a way, this is one of the coolest parts; I'll be able to travel for the rest of my life (knock on wood) but actually living in another country is a different story. (Plus when I think about it like that, it seems like less of a pain to sidestep the dirty puddles from my broken washing machine as I hang my clothes on my balcony.)

* * * * *

On a more exciting note, these are a couple sweet pictures from ThaiIand that I finally took from Andy's camera.

(another) weekend in Hong Kong

As an attempt to compensate for my wordy last entry, I'll let pictures explain my most recent trip to HK. Each is worth a thousand words, anyway - right? Plus it gives me an opportunity to show off the gloriousness of my brand new camera...

This picture defines Hong Kong for me: in a super-developed, bustling cosmopolitan city, a lone tai chi practitioner works his magic in the middle of an intersection. The passerby hardly seem to notice.

Our trip to Hong Kong intersected a protest of the "Mission for Migrant Workers." We couldn't really figure out what was going on, but there were countless Philippino immigrants lining the streets and indoor walkways, apparently readying themselves for some kind of demonstration.

My guidebook says that this construction site - on enormously valuable property right by the ferry terminal at Hong Kong Central - will soon become a huge museum/mall/theater complex. Since Hong Kong is the 6th most expensive city in the world (on average 20% more pricey than NYC), I can't even fathom how much this real estate must be worth. I took this photo because I'm sure if I come back next year, an enormous shiny building will have replaced this bulldozed crane village. Ahh, progress.

Lantau, the island that houses the Hong Kong airport as well as Hong Kong Disneyland, is a protected nature area and all sites above 200 m above sea level are protected from development. The effect is that the island, which is twice as big as Hong Kong Central, is full of beautiful views of a different kind: hilly forests and outlying islands.

Lantau Island is home to the world's largest seated outdoor Buddha. Left: Close-up on Buddha's face. Right: I am the Buddha.

My obsession with images capturing the effect of globalization continues. First, a giant Christmas tree juxtaposed with the Chinese flag (although yes, Hong Kong was a British colony, and the Hong Kong flag waving next to the Chinese one does make this photo slightly less ironic). On the right, a Starbucks just down the road from Hong Kong's giant Buddha. Double tall iced no-whip non-fat sugar-free-cherry mocha, anyone? With or without a little nirvana on the side...

running uphill, fast

Imagine you have never been on a treadmill before. You have seen other people use them and have a pretty good idea how they work, and you're interested to try. However, you can't really gingerly get onto a full-speed-ahead running machine, so you jump on and hope you can cut the pace. So far, so good - it's exhausting but you're figuring out how to save energy while running, and your form is improving. Then along comes a trainer, and pushes the little up arrow next to "speed." Before you know it, you're speeding along faster than before, which is tiring - but hey, you're ready for it now, right?

As soon as you've gotten your bearings at this new speed, another fitness trainer comes along. This time she messes with the incline, and soon you are running uphill, faster than you have ever run. And each time you get accustomed to this new pace, another trainer comes along to nudge the up arrow. "You can do it," you tell yourself, as you try not to think about how fast or steeply uphill you are running, or how out of breath you have become. And you warily look around for the trainers who will come up with a new challenge - wondering when the increase in difficulty will cross the line between manageable and just too strenuous to keep up.

This is my treadmill of teaching English at the ISS. Every day presents a new challenge: attendance sheets, new homework and testing requirements, progress charts in Chinese, rules for classroom decoration and cleaning, additional 3-period-a-week classes, meeting and projects for individual students, judging speech competitions, formatting lesson plans, regular evaluations of both teachers and students, IELTS practice standards, rules for when teachers must be outside and inside the classrooms, where classroom keys are kept, rituals for beginning and ending classes, discipline procedures, even rules governing the use of printers and copiers.

This week has abnormally quickened my treadmill pace, due to two new ingredients of stress:

1. Kung fu practice, or "how to take the fun out of just about anything"

First, after watching us practice last Friday and deciding we weren't good enough, the school headmaster, Alan, decided that all the teachers need to practice the kung fu dance every night this week for an hour. Besides adding an extra couple hours to my already long workday, his presence in the room during our practice has changed the entire dynamic of the dance. On Monday, after going through the dance a couple times, he reorganized our line-up by skill level - with the exception of putting me in the front row; guess my whiteness supersedes my awful kung fu dance ability - and then gave us a long speech in Chinese.

I couldn't really understand most of what he was saying, but judging by the downcast eyes of the other teachers and their very solemn return to the dance floor, I don't think it was utmost praise. After his speech, he approached me with a huge plastic smile and said, "Did you understand? I just said, everyone who does not yet know the dance needs to stay after practice." Needless to say, no one left.

Normally I could care less about people watching me dance. But when the male teachers left the floor, and I was left in the front row, I could feel Alan's eyes on me and I just started to crack. I can't explain it any other way, except that I realized I was sweating and actually trembling, and suddenly came to the realization - if I don't get off this floor right now, I am going to cry. Cry I did not, but get off the dance floor I did... And cowered next to the piano with my tail between my legs. Conclusion: I definitely am not quite 91% Chinese.

Since then, the dance has become fun again - I think everyone went home and practiced on Monday night, so by Tuesday we looked much better. Alan was excited about our new abilities, so I guess his seriousness was effective. Also Jaris's added sound effects to our kicks and punches cracked everyone up - even Alan. I am going to practice again as soon as I finish this blog entry, and am hoping the tone from Tuesday continues tonight...

2. Blood and plexiglass: English Corner adventures

My other treadmill-speeding incident occurred yesterday afternoon. Well, actually it began last week, when one of the foreign teachers at the LC (Allaina - check out the Yangshuo/Guilin entry from Sept if you'd like a refresher) got fired because two students got in a fight in her class. I know little about it except that one of the students was bleeding, and his parents were critical of Allaina's treatment of the situation. It was a real wake-up call; kids get rowdy and out of hand pretty regularly, and even the LC director admitted it "could have happened to anybody." But when parents get involved, it leaves little recourse for the school.

So maybe that adequately foreshadows what happened in my class on Tuesday. Basically, five minutes into class, one of my chronically out-of-control, refusing-to-speak-English, 7th-9th grade students ran to the front of the room while I was writing on the board. She reached/leaned/jumped across my desk to get a pen, and on the way managed to shatter the plexiglass covering my computer monitor as well as cut open her finger.

I don't remember what I yelled, but it must have been pretty loud because Jaris came running over from his classroom next door ("ready to lay the smack down," he told me later) and watched my students while I stormed upstairs to get someone with more power and authority. I found the 3 bigshots in our school all in a meeting, which I interrupted with the words, "I have a serious problem in my classroom."

For the first time, I am incredibly glad to be in the ISS and not the LC. I've been somewhat envious of the LCers, since it is less work, less formal, less time commitment. But the ISS is a real school, where the administrative staff interacts regularly with teachers and has personal relationships with almost every student. So I didn't get fired; on the contrary, after I sent my "Incident Report" to Sissy, she approached me to make sure I was okay, and also to let me know that I should expect a formal apology from my problem student. So maybe the incident made me cry for about an hour and drink two Belgian beers, and I would still include it on a list of stressors, but it also made me thankful for being in a school with staff who actually support the teachers.

* * * * *

And yet even as my treadmill sometimes seems to be reaching the breaking point where I must get off or collapse, there are always moments - feeling little arms hugging my legs and turning around to find Coco behind me; reading an argumentative essay on why it is better to go to school than live on the street because "if I live on the street I could not see beautiful teacher Amber"; watching my Year 2 students dominate a difficult test and realizing hey, I taught them all of that. So yeah, the treadmill is moving quickly... But it can't be all bad if there are moments I forget I am on it.

91% chinese

祥云

...My Chinese name, given to me on Thursday by Linda, the director of TESS, who is not technically my boss since I work in the International Section. It's pronounced Xiáng yún: she-ang, with the tongue against the back of the bottom teeth for the "sh" sound (if you get a hissing sound you're doing it right), rising tone; yoon, except to make the "u" sound you say "e" with your lips pursed, again rising tone. It means "auspicious/lucky cloud." I was pleased with my name, especially since Linda told me three times that she saved the "most beautiful name for the most beautiful girl." It does sound pretty cool in Chinese, too - just hoping I don't find it out it has some other secret connotation. (Andy liked his name too until he found it was a "very good name for girl.")

So now I have two Chinese bank cards, a Chinese cell phone, a Chinese apartment, a Chinese residence permit, and officially a Chinese name. About ready for dual citizenship, I'd say... Just in time to move to Africa.

normalcy

Now that I've settled into a routine - school feeling less stressful and China feeling less foreign - it seems that my everyday is becoming less and less blogworthy. So I will choose a particularly unblogworthy day, today, to illustrate the semblance of routine that now shapes my life.

My alarm went off this morning at 7:40. Normally I wake up at 7, but on Tuesdays and Wednesdays I am graced by having no first period class, so I get to sleep in. I made coffee by boiling water on my stove and pouring it over fresh grounds, which I biked about 3 hours to purchase at Starbucks on Monday afternoon. The sacrifices I make for decent coffee...

Anyway, I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and ate that with an apple (which I washed using the Chinese water; I now brush my teeth and wash fruit with it, although I still would not consume it in large quantities) while I watched the news. The best news I can get, given my preferences and China's blockages, is TV5.org, a French news channel where I can stream in international news. I watched the coverage of the strikes at the Thai airport and felt lucky that my trip took place 2 weeks before the airports shut down completely. Granted, the coup was already in full swing while I was in Bangkok, but very little surfaced that would interfere with tourists - pretty wise in a country that sources so much of its income from the tourism industry.

After a shower and getting dressed, I headed off for school - a 10-15 minute walk from my apartment, depending on my pace. I passed at least four security guards on the way; they are ubiquitous in China, both in schools and apartment complexes, despite the low level of crime. I also stopped on the way up the hill to school and watched a bit of the "morning exercises" - although I'm getting used to them they are still pretty entertaining. The best part being when the students march out afterwards, legs stiff, arms swinging by their sides. C is for Cookie... And other things...

Students lined up for morning exercises at TESS

My first class, 10th/11th grade listening, begins at 9:25 am. In this class, I basically read from a book, both dialogues and dictations, and the students write and ask questions. I've changed the format a bit to spice things up - for example, I sometimes bring in song lyrics to Linkin Park or Avril Lavigne songs (they love semi-outdated, energetic American pop) with some words blanked out, and play the music video while they identify the missing words. This gets even my most sleepy student, Vincent, engaged - which is nice because I have been instructed not to wake him otherwise, since his rich Hong Kong parents have admitted they use the school only as a baby-sitting service. Today I gave them a test, which also wakes them up - at least until the test is over and they can return to their slumped positions. I have resorted to keeping small pieces of chalk on my desk that I throw at students when they don't wake up to their names being called. At least I haven't gone to Jaris's extremes yet and removed all the chairs from my classroom...

My second class, Year 5 POI, started immediately after. We are currently studying the universe, and have been focusing on the solar system for the past two weeks. Yesterday we were in the computer lab and each student researched one planet, so today they drew and wrote about it on a sheet of construction paper. This is easier said than done; the principal has outlawed both pencils and white-out, so a final draft often takes a few tries. Then for the last 10 minutes we played a game I invented, which the kids adore: I have eight sheets of paper, each with a planet name. On one end of our magnetic chalkboard, I draw a big sun. I mix up the planet names and the students come to the board one by one to see who can arrange the names in order the fastest, using magnets to pin them up. So far the record is 18.8 seconds, and almost all of the students broke 24 seconds, which was my time when they convinced me to take a turn.

Third period followed directly after the second: my 11th grade OSC (OverSeas Chinese - mostly Korean) students. I gave them back graded homework, did a dictation (write the word/phrase + use in a sentence), and discussed/wrote logical vs. illogical arguments. At the end of the period we played two truths and a lie, which was pretty entertaining. However I think the best part of the class was Harry, a student who failed to spell the word "rare," pointing to the moose logo on my shirt and saying "A-B-E-R-C-R-O-M-B-I-E." Jaslene chimed in, "Yes, Abercrombie! I have also!" These are the same students who have never heard of Vietnam, and can't find the United States on a world map...

Well, that brings me exactly to noon and I have already written an excessively long account of my day's activities, so I'll cut myself off. Sorry to rob you of afternoon tales of the gym, Chinese food, Ben and Coco, and lesson planning. Maybe tomorrow........?

thanksgiving & jackie chan

I got a few thoughtful emails wishing me a happy Thanksgiving despite the fact that the Chinese clearly do not celebrate the Native American/European harvest festival. But don't pity me too much; although it did turn out to be a pretty homesick day, I managed to get a very enjoyable and way-too-filling Thanksgiving meal despite my location.

Jaris invited Andy and I to a dinner in the expat district, where a friend of his had reserved a table at a Western restaurant. I was initially a bit skeptical about celebrating a traditionally family-centered holiday with a group of strangers, but the food alone made it worth the trip. There were about 25 of us, and we shared three turkeys, stuffing, cranberries, plate after plate of mashed potatoes, and even something resembling pie at the end.

One memorable moment from the dinner, for better or for worse: As everyone relaxed and chatted over wine and food, a stereotypical loud and overbearing American expat stood up and gave a toast. Well, actually two toasts. I had enough with the first one, when he prompted everyone to cheers to the phrase "Thanks the fuck up!" Then he stood back up a few minutes later and, much to my horror, asked everyone at the table to stand up and say something we were thankful for. It's not that I'm not thankful; I have a million things to be thankful for, both here and at home, that have only multiplied since coming to China. But at that point I would have rather wet my own pants than shared a personal thank you message with a group of total strangers at my Thanksgiving dinner. At least that would have been entertaining, and its memory would have induced a laugh rather than a severe cringe...

Onto my weekend in Guangzhou 广州, known for years in Western culture as Canton. Wikipedia puts Guangzhou's population just over 7 million, but including its surroundings it is even bigger and more cosmopolitan than its neighboring city, Shenzhen. It's also deeply rooted in Chinese history (although don't feel bad if you don't recognize the name, as I'm sure I couldn't have located it on a map a year ago), and has been a major hub of Chinese civilization since 214 BC.

Our entire group of teachers was there for a foreign teachers' celebration, and our hosts went all out accommodating 16,000 of us at a show filled with dancers, singers, and a few key celebrities. If you saw the opening ceremony to the Olympics, you have some sense of the level of this production. I was exhausted and crabby when I got there (side story: Jaris and I had to meet the rest of our group, since as ISS teachers we actually work on Fridays, unlike the LCers. However we couldn't find the group and ended up walking around for 2 hours and missing dinner. Oh yes and I sprained my ankle. Tai hao le! How excellent!) and yet even after sitting for three hours I could have watched more.

Anyway, midway through the show, a jumbo jet pulled out onto the stage and out walked... Jackie Chan! He sang "We Are Ready" which he apparently also performed at the Olympics. He wasn't the best act, by far, but seeing him perform there - as as singer, no less - after watching his kung fu moves in Rush Hour was extremely entertaining. Plus, I'm living in China, so I guess if I'm going to see a celebrity he's a pretty good option.

The rest of the Guangzhou trip, abbreviated version:

• On Saturday I went shopping at the market downtown, which was quite similar to the ones in Shenzhen but had a more organized feel and slightly better knock-off goods. I got two watches and a new pair of sunglasses, all of which I love - but I have to say the whole shopping experience was even cooler than my purchases.
• Saturday night ended up being an adventure involving a Chinese police officer, a man wearing a "political" armband, a Canadian expat raving about 911 being an "inside job," and a bunch of Liberians trying to sell us drugs. Yes, all of this and more, right on the steps of a 7/11 - a chain which incidentally seems to have captured the entire Asian market and is now conveniently located on every block.
• I spent Sunday morning in Yuexiu Park, which I could not fully enjoy because I started passing out before we left. I don't remember anything from that point until I got back to Shenzhen, but apparently I blacked out in the taxi and again on the bus. This has never happened to me before... For the record, I blame the pollution. (Seriously.)

Also, if you're disappointed by the lack of pictures, I lost my camera this weekend in Guangzhou. I'm planning to replace it in Hong Kong this weekend, but until then you'll just have to exercise your imagination.