After going over simple present Wh-questions I asked my students if they understood what their brains had just absorbed. Like always, they said yes, even though I knew that they hadn’t fully comprehended it. So, I decide to test their knowledge.

“Emma,” I said, “I want you to think, imagine, pretend that you are wearing a dress. OK?”

“OK,” Emma said.

“Alright. You are wearing a dress. What do you want to wear with the dress?”

She stopped and thought about it.  She even repeated the question a few times to herself, looked to Lisa(the Queen of translating) for possible help, and then finally back to me with apprehension in her eyes.  She cleared her throat and very sure of herself said, “I want to wear Lisa.”

I couldn’t help myself. I started to giggle. Lisa started to giggle because she actually understood what Emma had just said. Monica started to giggle only because the rest of us were even though she had no clue why. Emma sat there for a moment watching us all giggle and then it hit her.

“Oh! No, no, no!” She said emphatically. ” I want to wear a coat! A coat!”

This, on top of them questioning me about homosexuality, totally made my day. Yes, for some strange reason they were very curious about that particular topic.

“Don’t ask a question if you already know the answer.”

Ah, I have heard that statement many of times, but yet I don’t follow it.

Today in class we were going over an exercise that was talking about Japanese food. I thought hey, what the heck, while on the subject I’ll ask how they feel about Japan. Other students have asked me if I liked Japan, Korea(they never mentioned north or south) and what I thought about 9/11. I mean, if they can ask – why can’t I? So, I did.

“Do you guys like Japan.”

Usually, I have to explain myself, but this time they understood completely.

“NO! I hate Japan!” Emma said ecstatically. She really said it in bold italics, too.

Although I half expected it, I was taken aback just a little. Maybe it had to do with the bold italics thing. “Ok, Monica, what about you? Do you like Japan?”

“NO! I hate Japan too!”

At this point in the conversation I thought, well, I’ve already taken the plunge, I might as well take a swim while I’m at it.

“Why?” Ah, as a teacher you have to love this question.

“Because . . . because . . . a long time ago,” Emma started, but her tongue couldn’t spit out what she wanted to say in English. I could see the emotion behind her eyes and could all most hear the Chinese version of what she wanted to say bouncing in between her ears. “Because,” she said, lifting up her hands. She balled one into a fist and left the other one flat and open. I knew what was coming. It was pretty obvious. How else is one supposed to express hate and war without being able to verbalize it? And then it happened. She started pummeling her open hand with her fist. “Because,” she said, “Because.”

They were both quiet for a minute. They were frustrated that they couldn’t tell me why exactly, but I told them that that was OK and that I understood.

“Do you like Japan?” Emma asked.

Well, I don’t believe in lying so I told them the truth. “Yes.” Both of their eyes squinted together and their lips got very tight. If you know what look I’m talking about, which I’m sure some of you do, then you should be able to picture that image rather well. It was the look of mixed anger and disappointment, that I, their teacher, could in any way shape or form like their supposed enemy. It only lasted a second though.

It was as though they thought they had made me angry or something. I’m not sure what their logic was, but after giving me that horrid look, Emma perked up with a big smile on her face and said, “We like America. America is good.”

She gave me the thumbs up to demonstrate how good good was.

You are sitting in a blue plastic chair at a desk in a room that you know all too well. On your desk is a pencil with .5 mm lead. It’s the kind you hate because it breaks too easily if you press down too hard. Written on the blue plastic neck of the pencil in black ink is your least favorite number in the world. Two. Specifically, #2.

The room is quiet, except for the steady ticking of the clock positioned on the wall behind you. Every now and again there is a nervous roll of a pencil across a desk from someone sitting behind you. You’d roll your pencil too, but you don’t want to draw any attention from the woman standing behind the podium at the front of the room. It doesn’t even seem like she’s even paying attention, but you know that it’s all an act. Her eyes are trained to see anything and everything that might be deemed suspicious. Years of practice have taught you to remain still and quiet.

The woman, if you haven’t guessed yet, is your teacher and today is test day.

You’ve known about it for a week now and you studied for it, but your anxiety is still running a little high. Tests, well, they just make you squirm. And you’ve heard rumors about this test. A friend of a friend of a friend who knew this one person who dated this one person who took this test a few years back said that it completely made him self destruct. With rumors like that floating around, you have all the right to be just a tad bit nervous. It can’t be that hard, right? It’s just an English exam after all. What is there to be afraid of?

As the clock behind you flips to 9:30 am, the woman behind the desk lays the test face down on your desk. She’s gives you that look that says, “If you cheat, I will personally eat your soul.” You nod in understanding and flip it over.

Before you is the test that you’ve been losing sleep over all weekend.
The test is only one page. One line. One question.

The question is . . .

Why?

“You have until the end of class to finish your test. Good luck.”

*****
Humor me and answer that question for me.

I gave this question as a extra credit to my students on their test today, and they really did self destruct. They had no idea how to answer it.

And finally, a random picture from my collection. This picture comes from the selection I stole from Tim when we met up in Hong Kong.

This really doesn’t need an introduction, so I’ll keep it short and sweet. This was an email I received today from one of the only good students I had in Fuyang. Grey was a very sweet girl, and much like the last time she sent me an email, this one almost had my tear ducts going. I think this is the only reason I ever decided to become a teacher. It’s moments like this that make everything that stresses me out worth it.

And I have no idea what that stupid blue line is. It won’t go away.

Miss Cook,

I’m sorry I haven’t been online for such long time.Did you have purple days.I have passed the high school advance entered exam successfully.Now I have been a high school student.Thank you for your help from the time we spent together.

Miss Cook,where are you now?Are you still in China.

Perhaps you are now far away from our country, but I think you will still bright smile, I hope you can spread the light of you own nomatter where you are.

This is my blog address http://blog.sina.com.cn/tvxq25

I hope that you can have a unforgettable time in China.

 

Grey is right here waiting for you

So, the other day in class, I was telling my students about the party that the school is going to have on May 26th for no other reason than to spend money and to take pictures of students having fun. The school wants to use these pictures to show future students how much fun they can have if they join the program. Hey, I don’t mind the publicity stunt so much. There will be cake, fruit, drinks and a variety of other yummy dishes there as well. It’s a pot luck party. The only reason I’m coming though is for the cake. Heh.

I brought in the invitations, hoping that they(as in the invitations) would speak for themselves, but apparently I over-estimated them(as in my students). Even though their English has improved in the last few weeks and the invitations were written in the simplest English possible – they had a difficult time grasping what it was the little pieces of paper I handed them was telling them to do. Thankfully, one of the four finally got what I was trying to say and translated for me to the others.

“Oh, party,” the three others chimed in like little birds.

I thought it was probably best to then go over the invitations to make sure that they actually knew what they were responsible for and when they were to show up. That took another 10 minutes. 🙂

When I got to the line that said – “All staff, students, and their partners are allowed to attend.” – they all sorta looked at me funny.

“Partner?” They asked. “What does that mean?”

“You know, boyfriend, girlfriend, husband . . .”

“Oh,” Lisa, the brightest of the group said, “Boyfriend.” She pointed across the room. “She has a boyfriend.” She then translated what she said in Chinese and all the rest of the students were clued in.

“Monica, you have a boyfriend?” I asked.

Quiet Monica just nodded her head.

“Are you going to bring him to the party with you?”

Monica shook her head and quietly said, “No. He’s in Wenzhou.”

“Oh, ok. That’s alright. How long have you been dating.”

There was a long pause, as though she had to think about it. Or maybe she was counting in English in her head. ” Six months.”

“Ok, well, what about you, Yuti, do you have a boyfriend?”

Yuti’s eyes got really big for a second and then said almost hysterically, “Who? Me? No. I’m a good girl!”

Somehow, everyone understood that and laughter followed.

I guess that makes Monica a super bad girl then for having a boyfriend for six whole months.

Never a day goes by that one of my students says something that makes me laugh.

The other day, I had my students write five questions about themselves on the board. I wanted three of the sentences to be true and two of them to be false. When they misunderstood me and wrote five true sentences instead, I wasn’t surprised.

Most of the sentences were normal. They wrote about things that they liked to do, how they got to school everyday, and the other normal information you can drag out of a person who’s language is not your own. And then it was Monica’s turn, the quiet girl from way up north, and I mean way north. I don’t know when, but her parents decided to move from a city near the Russian/China border all the way down to Xiamen at some point in her 20 some years of life. Apparently, it hasn’t been that long since she left because she misses it enough to say the following:

I not good friends in Xiamen.
My good friends at hometown.

Yeah, I know what you are thinking, that’s sad, and I am not talking about how she wrote it.

In front of everyone she decided to tell the rest of the class, which was me and Emma at the time, that she doesn’t have any good friends in Xiamen. All of her good friends are back in her hometown – where ever that may be.

It made me think of me and how alike the two of us are. All of my good friends are 7,000 miles away from me, and even though I can talk to them through email and Skype – not being able to see them and hang out is something completely different. I’ve made friends here in China, but they can’t replace the ones that took half a lifetime to build.

If only Monica knew that she wasn’t alone.

I not good friends in Xiamen too.
My good friends at hometown too.

The following is a conversation that happened in my Part-Time Advance class this past Sunday morning. I was going over a questionaire in their book and having them discuss their answers.

“So, Jeff, if a foreigner took your picture, would you be A) flattered B) annoyed C) amused D) or none of the above?”

“I would be annoyed.”

Laughter in the classroom. “Why would you be annoyed?”

“Because that is the only word I know.”

More laughter in the room.

Several minutes later . . .

“Alright, number 5, Jeff. If you were walking down the beach with your girlfriend, would you A) hold her hand B) walk arm in arm C) walk close but not touch or D) none of the above?”

“My answer is D – none of the above.”

“OK, Jeff, why?

“Because I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Even more laughter in the classroom.

Funny stuff.

Ah, a home.

Things that make us super happy.

1. Xiamen is beautiful.
2. The weather is great. (Feels like I am back home.)
3. Our apartment is wonderful. It is probably the best one we have had since coming to China.
4. The school is clean, new, and only a hop jump and a skip away from our front door.
5. The staff is very welcoming and kind.
6. We actually have students to teach, even if there are only 4 or so.
7. Did I mention that Xiamen is beautiful?

I think we are really going to like this place, at least right up until the typhoon comes and washes us away. Heh. : )

I’ve got tons of things to post, and I will get them up soon. Promise. I just have work to do now. Imagine that. It’s been awhile since I’ve been a teacher. I haven’t worked since January 15th or so. It’s going to take time getting used to the whole “I am a teacher” bit again, but I do know that I will enjoy this much better than Fuyang’s Yong Xing Middle School. That is for damn sure.

This picture may have been taken a long time ago(back during the days of Fuyang), but I think it shows exactly how I feel after all the crap that has happened in trying to get to Shenyang.Phil calls it “Power Gabe”.

I call it “I’m going to eat your soul.”

Either way, I now think you have a full understanding of my frustration.

All I’ve got to say is that my students better be extra nice to me or else I’m going to turn into that teacher from Fairly Odd Parents and start handing out F’s in pure pleasure. I wish I could find a better picture of Mr. Crocker, but I think this demonstrates his insanity and what could be mine.

All was not wasted at Yongxing. Most of my students didn’t give a lick about English and could have cared even less that I traveled 7000 some odd miles to come teach them, but there were at least 2 students that made my teaching worth all the pain and agony I had to endure these last 4 months. Let me give you a prime example. Below you will find an email that one my students sent me a few days ago. Grey is a very bright and wonderful girl and will be going on to High School next year. She was one of the few students that would stay after class to talk to me, and would ask me to help her with her English. The email just about made it cry. The one thing it made me remember though, is that teaching is about the one or two people that reach and care and all the rest don’t matter. Read on and see what I mean. I won’t be posting in the next few days because we will be traveling, but I will try to post about our travels soon as well as some pictures.

Miss Cook,
When you told me that you may leave Fuyang,I really feel frustrated.This term I have joined many competitions and English speech.But do you know,when I was in primary school,my English was very poor,my English teachers didn’t like me, it made me sad.When I was in junior six, I attended
a foreign language school entrance examination,because of my poor English, I was failed in that exam.From then on ,I made up my mind to learn English well.
Time flies,now I am in junior three,sometimes I thought maybe I wouldn’t practise English more ,because of the arduous task of learning,but I didn’t.
Since you came to our school,you regards me as your friends,you tell me a lot about English and English culture,I think you are not only are good teacher,but also a good friends.Thank you ,Miss Cook.
Perhaps we will not meet in the future,but I will still remember the wonderful time we spent together,I wish you to have nice days,wonderful weeks,purple years and a successful life.
Best wishes from Grey

Makes you smile doesn’t it? Emails like this make teaching worth while. I’ll have to print it out and frame it and read it when things get tough up north. It will make me remember what teaching is all about when I start to forget again.