The Two Weeks From Hell

Well, things in China haven't exactly proceeded as I had forseen. I have truly been through a trial by fire. I have been teaching for several weeks now, and the vast majority of my students don't understand what I'm saying at all, or can only understand a few words of English. This despite the fact they have been "learning" English for the better part of at least six years. So my educational adventure here is more akin to "Dangerous Minds" than it is "The King and I."

I have been experimenting with different ways of trying to reach out to the kids. My hands are tied by the lack of resources and the number of students.

22 classes per week X 70 students in each class = 1,540 students PER WEEK.

Bear in mind I do this in 45 minute blocks, with only a chalkboard and a microphone that doesn't work half the time. And in China, due to the sheer number of students, the teachers switch classrooms between periods rather than the students, so I spend my day running around the campus between buildings. So no classroom is "mine" and I have no base to work from. There are no copy machines, no printers, no overheads, no projectors, no TVs. This is truly testing my creativity in finding ways to teach all these kids with no resources.

Fortunately discipline isn't much of a problem. Chinese students are MUCH better behaved (on the whole) than Americans, I will give them that. The worst problem I have is talking while I am teaching, but fortunately these kids are usually taken aback so much by a raised voice that they shut right up.

Well, that covers my teaching quandry, now onto the rest of life in the PRC.

I got a horrible cold as soon as I arrived. As usual, I developed a cough that's still lingering. The next week I was told I would have to go to Changsha to have a physical done by a Chinese doctor, because some bureaucrat said she couldn't accept copies of my health documents and that I would have to either have the originals sent from America or redo the health check.

So after a particularly hellish day of teaching, off to Changsha I went, packed into a bus for the three hour drive to Changsha. Once I arrived my guide and I spent nearly two hours trying to find my hotel, the 7 Days Inn. Once I was settled and had had enjoyed my KFC dinner, it was off to bed so I could get up early enough for my physical.

After awaking very early, and not eating breakfast as instructed, my guide Jaclyn took me to the provincial government building where I was to have my exam as planned.

But that was not to be. The doctor/ director took one look at my documents, said I didn't need the physical, signed the papers, and left. All that for nothing.

Jaclyn then took me sightseeing around Changsha. We visited a very beautiful park on Orange Island in the middle of the river. The island lives up to its name, as it is covered in beautiful orange trees, which were loaded with fruit on this particular day. Changsha University is directly across from Orange Island, and Chairman Mao, in his youth, spent a great deal of time here. He wrote a very famous poem that is quite beautiful called "Changsha" about his time there. In his honor, the Chinese government has build a large Mount Rushmore-esque model of his head on the southern tip of the island.

Orange Island was followed by dinner at a Daoist Temple/ Restaurant called the Fire Palace. It lived up to its name, as Hunan cuisine is renowned for its spiciness. Then I was taken on a quick tour of the downtown shopping and bar district. Unfortunately, something I ate disagreed with me horribly and I discovered to my horror that Chinese drugstores, while looking modern with people in lab coats and medicines in professionally printed boxes, only sell Chinese herbal and traditional medicine. No Dramamine, Immodium, Pepto Bismol to be found. Not even ginger ale. Let me delicately say powdered dung beetle was not going to cut it in this instance.

It was in this sorry state that I was put back on the bus to Shaoyang. An hour into the ride I became a little concerned because we had been driving and driving but were still in Changsha. About this time, we stopped and about 50 differently-odored peasants crowded onto the bus. It was clear they were not paying for this ride, and they knew the driver, so I'm assuming he was helping his fellow villagers out by giving them a lift into town to sell their wares.

Once the local yokels were safely aboard, we were off again. The Bus of the Damned, next stop: Shaoyang.

 Unfortnately, much like my first trip to this town, the bus did not stop at the bus station. They didn't even stop IN Shaoyang. The bus stopped on the western edge of town FAR, FAR AWAY from any area I recognized. I was then strongly encouraged to de-bus. I was somewhat confused by this, but having my person and belongings forcibly ejected from the vehicle made their point pretty clear.

So there I was, left alone on the side of the road yet again. Fortunately there were cabs available, but the driver didn't even recognize the name of the school. The Chinese girl I had been next to on the bus, also forced off the bus, took pity on me and explained it to the cab driver, as my broken Chinese was quite obviously not working. After a 30 MINUTE cab ride from the far side of town, I finally got dropped off at San Zhong (the name of my school). I was promptly met by Flora, for all intents and purposes my "supervisor." She promptly scolded me for - wait for it - making her wait at the bus station for an hour.

I then vigorously expressed my displeasure at her attitude and illustrated the nature of the plight that I had just been through. Somehow I don't think she really understands what I had been through. I then signalled that the audience was at an end, and left my paperwork with her. I climbed the hill to the school, and then the steep steps up to my building and then the flight of stairs up to the apartment. I was finally home, seconds away from refuge. Keys in the door. Turn the lock. Home. And this was when I promptly vomited.

The rest of the night is a blur, wrapped up in blankets shivering with chills, feverish, and generally not feeling too well.

The week that followed was fairly uneventful. I'm feeling better, thankfully. The main problem being I still have my cough. As a matter of fact, I'm getting ready to go to the doctor right now to see what can be done about it. My understanding is that if I at least go to the hospital I may be able to get some Western medicine. Today would be a great day for codene. Thankfully health care is much cheaper here than in America. 300 RMB to see the doctor (roughly about 60 bucks). I can't testify as to its effectiveness as yet... only time will tell.

I still haven't formed my opinion yet. I can't lie, and I can't sugar coat it. The last two weeks have been miserable. There's no way around that.

But I'm just trying to hold out until Winter Break starts on January 14th. I get a paid month off and will get to do some travelling. When break is over, I get a brand new apartment all to myself. It's not on school grounds like the current one, but it's literally right over the fence. If I can just make it to Winter Break and have some time to decompress and adapt more, I'm hoping things will start looking up again.

I'm Here!

Well folks, I've made it to Shaoyang, Hunan Province.

It was quite a journey to get here. I left my dad's house in Columbia at 4AM on December 8th South Carolina time and arrived in Shaoyang around 6pm on December 10th China time (Which is 13 hours ahead of South Carolina time). Fortunately I got to stay the night in a hotel in Changsha, the provincial capital. But regardless, I was exhausted by the time I got here. The worst thing I've experienced so far was being dropped off at the wrong place in Shaoyang. I got on the bus in Changsha, and when we got to Shaoyang, everyone got off the bus, so I did too. Unfortunately it wasn't where my ride was supposed to meet me, but I didn't know that. So after standing there for a little while bewildered and trying to figure out what to do, I finally went into a shop and convinced them to let me use the phone in my very broken Chinese. Luckily for yours truly, the bus station was just right around the corner, and the owners of the store have children at my school.

I spent the weekend getting aquainted with the school, the city, and my fellow Westerners. There aren't many of us here in the city, probably less than a dozen, but the ones I've met so far are good people and I think we will get along quite well. We went to a bar at the university the other night and I was able to get aquainted with them. Last night I was invited along with the others to a local friend's apartment (which is frankly nicer than any American apartment I've ever been in) and we watched TV and played games. All good fun.The weather was fairly mild, but it rained constantly for the first four days I was here. Now it's getting cold and it's expected to snow tomorrow. I have yet to see the sun.

Shaoyang is a city of around 7 million people, and for all its size is considered something of a backwater. The people here haven't seen many foreigners and so I am something of a local tourism boon. I've had to re-adopt my "New York stride" and just look straight ahead and ignore the stares. It's just one of those things you have to get used to, I suppose.

On my first full day in the city, I was asked to be a judge in a TV contest show best described as an "English bee" where kids of all ages show off their English skills. This is the initial stage, and the winners from each city and province will eventually go on to the nationals in Beijing. Most, (I would say the vast majority) were pretty horrendous. Many of the kids seem take their skits from their English books. Unfortunately most of them used the exact same skits. I can't tell you how many times I have heard "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" "Auld Lang Syne" "Ten Little Indians" alphabet songs, and Chinglish love songs over the last few days. But I just smiled and held up my little judge's paddle, red for fail and green for pass.

Not all were so terrible though. One group of children gave a totally adorable rendition of "The Three Little Pigs" complete with pig and wolf costumes. One boy gave an empassioned speech about environmental degredation and world hunger. Another girl told Aesop's fable "The Sun and the Wind." There was even a retelling of "Curious George."

But out of all the hundreds of acts I saw, one actually brought tears to my eyes. There was a little Chinese boy, who couldn't have been more than 12 or 13, and he recited Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream Speech." Obviously it was nothing new to me, I've heard it a hundred times, but coming from this young Chinese boy in his halting English, it just touched me for some reason. It was just a reminder of how lucky we are to be Americans and how much the world can still look to our country for inspiration and freedom.

Another thing I have become thankful for is literacy. In the Anglosphere, I can write, speak, and read with ease; some might even say I have a little talent for it. But here, I am functionally illiterate. There are no street signs outside the major cities or away from major highways. I can't read the signs on shop windows and the only way I know places to shop or eat is because people are here to show me. Otherwise I would be totally helpless. That is a very humbling feeling. It reminds me of a time when I was a teenager a woman walked up to me in Winn Dixie and asked me to read the lables on some cans for her, because she couldn't read. I can only imagine what a humiliating experience that must have been for here. At least here, I have the excuse of being a foreigner.

Although I already knew it on an intuitive level, I am discovering in real life that the Chinese are just like any other people. Government, politics, and economics aside, they are regular folks. They get up and go to work, have children, have bills to pay, laugh and cry and have good and bad days just like the rest of us.

I have taught my first few classes already. It is quite an experience. I'm not really sure what my expectations are, but it's pretty clear I'm not going to be able to fulfill my gung ho idealism of teaching these kids to speak and read fluent English in six months. Even though they have been learning English in school since the third grade, most of these kids can barely say hello. Also, it seems I am not the "real" English teacher, but that my classes are basically like an elective class at an American school. The other Americans seem pretty resigned to being able to do the best they can, which I guess will have to be my fallback position. The children are friendly for the most part, and some do speak quite well and I am able to communicate with them. But with a class of 70 - 80 children and nothing but a blackboard and a microphone, there is only so much I can do. I am almost tempted to try to start a collection to try to buy some projectors and screens for the school. It would definitely make my job a lot easier. There's only so much I can do from my laptop.

I tried showing them pictures of South Carolina, to give them an idea of where I came from. The ones who were interested were wowed by the beauty of my home state, which made me feel good. They especially loved the pictures of Charleston and the beaches.

Well, that's all for now. Sorry if I rambled a bit, but I had a lot to write down and I wanted to do it while it was all still fresh in my mind. I miss all my friends and family back home terribly, especially Ethan, Erin, Nick, and Naylor. I love you all and I'm thinking of you often.