After a continuation of our utility misadventures over the weekend, an interesting "Brazilian" style buffet experience (it was delicious, I just don't think it was in any way Brazilian), and a full day of teaching on Sunday, we started off our Monday looking forward to Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off and getting our school bus cards (finally!). The previous week, our waiban liaison (person in the foreign affairs office responsible for dealing with us) informed us that we were to attend a Monday morning meeting at 9:30 to take care of some administrative stuff (like getting our bus cards, passports returned, etc). By Monday the administrative meeting had turned into an official all-foreigners-at-the-school get together, and by the time we arrived, apparently a Mid-Autumn Festival social event with the school president.
All-the-foreigners-at-the-school of 18,000 some-odd students consists of 5 foreign teachers (Richy and I included) and 3 Korean exchange students, for a total of 8 non-Chinese people wandering around. The meeting was quite pleasant: there were Korean, US and Chinese flags adorning the table, the president gave some little speeches about how much he appreciates us being here away from our families at the mid Autumn festival when people usually go home (no problem, it's not our holiday! Thank us when Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around), we were served tea and snacks, given a short presentation about the meaning and origins of the holiday, and then each given a lovely (and likely expensive) box of moon cakes! We were also invited to what sounds to be a swanky banquet hosted by the mayor of Chongqing for all the foreign teachers in the municipality on the 29th (read: reunion with all our training site pals who are spread about Chongqing)! Our former PCV colleague says last years was a lot of fun.
A little background on the holiday that I can pass on to the folks back home: Mid-Autumn Festival falls on the 15th day of the 8th month in the lunar calendar (hence a mid-autumn festival at the time we usually perceive as the beginning of fall), and is the traditional Chinese celebration of the harvest. It always takes place on a full moon, and therefore one of the activities associated with the holiday is moon watching while eating dense, round, ornate cakes filled with any combination of bean paste, chocolate, egg yolks, lotus seeds, nuts, citrus rinds, apple jelly, etc, etc. The most traditional kind has a golden outer crust with characters for happiness, good luck and prosperity embossed on the top, while inside dark red bean paste and whole egg yolks await (more egg yolks means more good luck). I personally prefer the more non traditional kinds with nuts and chocolate and fruits inside. There is also a story about a mythical couple in ancient times, who were granted a pill that would make them both live forever, but only if they each ate only half. Eating the whole pill would make the eater have to live alone for eternity as an immortal. Apparently when the husband was away, a bad guy threatened the woman (Chang'e is her name) with a knife because he wanted the pill for himself. Instead of handing it over, she ate the whole thing herself and ended up being banished to the moon as an immortal. So apparently that story is part of the reason for paying reverence to the moon this time of year. There are other versions of the story, but this is the version people have told us in this particular part of China.
It should be noted that we are currently in the midst of a heat wave, of the kind Chongqing seems well known for. It is one of the "four furnaces" after all! The past few days have been experienced either drenched in sweat or sitting in front of our new air conditioner (and I had previously thought it came too late in the season to be useful - ha!). So after the meeting, as the day was starting to heat up, I went to go teach my writing class. When I asked the students how their weekend was, to which they usually respond with incoherent mutters, they all resoundingly announced "HOT!" Which gave me quite a chuckle. We conducted class amidst the din of revolving ceiling fans (I think there are 8 in my classroom, and it really does make it hard to hear their shy English). After class, Richy and I met up for lunch, after which Richy went to go catch the 1 pm bus back to campus, while I stayed, planning to teach another writing class in the afternoon. When I entered the foreign teacher's office to drop off some of my things I didn't want to lug up to the fourth floor in the heat, my surprised Chinese counterpart teacher, William asked me why I was still on campus. I told him I had class that afternoon. But hadn't I heard that classes were canceled because of the heat? It was announced last night. Of course, it was announced on the school website in Chinese, and nobody thought to tell us, so no. I might have been upset about it, except that it meant I could go home early and avoid another sweltering two hours of class.
The next school bus wasn't scheduled to leave until 3:30, so the only option was to take the public bus, which usually takes a little longer, but costs the same and thankfully runs more often. Now luckily before we left University Town (the area where all the universities from the city center have been relocated because of cheaper land and the ability of the schools to sell off their high priced parcels at the city center) an enterprising young man asked the bus driver to board for a few minutes to sell us iced beverages out of a bucket. I knew we had an hour ride ahead of us in 100+ F heat and inadequate air conditioning, so I bought a large sports beverage. I don't know how I would have survived the next two and a half hour ordeal with out it. I should have realized there was a problem when I noticed a conspicuously large, blue 50 gallon drum of water strapped into the bus behind the driver (exactly the kind of thing I have been teaching myself not to get too quizzical about here). Tubes came from the drum and into an equally conspicuous large hole in the dashboard. As we got underway, with a full load of passengers, the bus began to make loud screeching noises which no one seemed too alarmed by. As frequent loud noises are the custom in China, I too gave no outward indication of alarm, although I realize in retrospect I probably should have taken a seat further away from the hole in the dashboard. Traveling further, the noise became louder, especially when going up hills. The bus driver suspiciously stopped driving like a typical Chinese bus driver and began cautiously merging to the right and taking it easy on the gas pedal. My attention was increasingly drawn to the steam rising from hole in the dashboard. Midway up a particularly steep hill (and Chongqing is quite a hilly city) the screeching turned to screaming and suddenly the hole in the dashboard erupted in a fountain of steam and boiling water. Luckily I was out of range of the first spurt, and had time to move back before becoming scalded, while the bus driver continued up the hill. Meanwhile the bus geyser boiled more violently, spattering the whole front of the bus with water and coolant and steaming up the windshield. When we finally reached the top of the hill, the bus driver decided we had broken down at that point, and pulled to the side of the expressway. Several passengers rushed to the front (despite the now-subsiding geyser) and interrogated the bus driver about various destinations. Many of them immediately exited and seemed to know where they were going.
I of course knew where we were generally (I could see the roof of a stadium nearby our neighborhood) but had no idea how to get off the expressway safely or how long it would take me to get home, laden with my school bag and boxes of moon cakes in staggering heat. So I stayed on the bus with three other wary passengers as the bus driver argued with someone on the phone and investigated the situation from outside the bus. We were parked in the full sun, and now with the meager air conditioning off in a bus full of radiator steam, I found solace in my large, cold sports beverage. After several minutes I realized that despite my heat-induced fatigue, I needed to whip out my Chinese language skills and figure out what the heck was going on (partly because I could hear the bus driver refer to "the foreigner" in his heated conversation). I asked the only remaining female on the bus where she was going, and in her heat-induced fatigue didn't really seem keen on reconstructing the bad Chinese I was spewing. After a few minutes, she surmised where I was going and got the attention of the bus driver, who was still arguing on the phone. "Ni yao qu Jie Fang Bei ma? Wo bu qu Jie Fang Bei." (You want to go to Jie Fang Bei? I not go to Jie Fang Bei) "Bu, bu yao qu Jie Fang Bei. Wo yao qu Shi You Lu." (No, not want to go to Jie Fang Bei, I want to go to Petroleum Road) "Oh! Keyi!" (Oh! Okay!) And with that he hung up the phone, got back on the bus, grabbed a hidden canister of water from the back of the bus, dumped it in the hole in the dashboard, and again started the engine, to the surprise of the two high school students who had decided to wait outside the bus. They quickly jumped back on the bus as we sped off down the hill. The bus usually goes all the way to Jie Fang Bei, about 30 minutes' drive further than my stop. I guess he didn't think he could make it there, but I'm glad he could make it to Petroleum Road.
20.9.10
15.9.10
Zui Jin Zenmeyang?
How's it going lately? It's been up and down. I'll take you on an episodic breakdown of our lives in the past week or so:
Up: Last week marked our second week of class. We were pleased to have a light schedule and things starting to settle down in the apartment. We realized that the cupboard was full of cookies, crackers and noodles and if we didn't figure out the vegetable shopping situation we'd be suffering carbohydrate overload. The supermarkets here are convenient, but the produce is a little frightening and often features cockroaches scattering when you move the fruit around. I set out to brave one of the crowded fruit and vegetable stands down a nearby alleyway. The produce is tantalizingly fresh and well cared for, but also surrounded by a harried mob of Chinese shoppers. I pushed my way in, observing the pandemonium from above (I'm tall in China!) and found that people were grabbing large plastic baskets from a pile and filling them with vegetables. I grabbed a basket and started poking around the offerings. I realized that the section of the crowd nearest the scale was actually some kind of line. So after I filled my basket with somewhat familiar vegetable items: carrots, green onions, bai cai (aka. bok choi), and eggplant. Then I pushed and shoved my way toward the scale. As I approached, I realized there was a technique to getting your stuff on the scale: hold your hand over the vegetables already on the scale, and when the other produce gets shoved into the bag, plop down your stuff before anyone else can! Which is what I did after a couple tries. I only had to ask the vendor to repeat the price once! I felt quite proud of myself as we settled down to our first real home cooked dinner of stir fried veggies and rice.
Down: Wednesday was a bit stressful as Richy learned via email that morning that a new three hour listening and speaking class had been added to his schedule - to be taught that very afternoon! So much for having a day off together in the middle of the week. After we called some folks in our department to figure out exactly what was going on (the original email didn't even include a room number), we found out that a Chinese English teacher had resigned the previous week and that Richy had been assigned his class. Richy was able to scrape enough material together to keep the class occupied for three hours. Way to keep us on our toes China!
Up: The weekend gave us an opportunity to get together with other PCV pals in the Jie Fang Bei area for an evening of beers, snacks and chats. But not before we got to take a four and a half hour self-guided walking tour of the city! We walked all the way from our house in Da Ping, along the Yangtze River (where we saw the brown-water-braving members of the Yangtze River Winter Swimming Club out for a little afternoon dip) and up the countless flights of stairs to Jie Fang Bei and the oddly pirate-themed "historic" area of Hong Ya Dong. We also entertained our first overnight visitor in our apartment, which forced me to actually straighten up the apartment as a whole, which made me realize how much progress we've made in making it livable.
Down: Third week of class begins while the two of us are still yet to receive school bus cards (or keys to the foreign teacher's office, but that got straightened out later in the day). For our 50+ minute commute to school on the school-owned bus, it costs 5 kuai each way, which means we have to make sure we have correct change everyday, which also means we spend 10 kuai every day we teach. 10 kuai doesn't sound like much - only $1.48 - but when you're living on 45 kuai a day, it adds up. Apparently it takes the school a long time to process these cards. In the meantime, we seem to be the only teachers paying cash for the bus. We also got to go for our second visa interview, which involved much running around town, waiting for the Korean international students, staring awkwardly into cameras and nodding affirmatively at appropriate times.
Up: Richy and I marked our 11 year relationship at the fanciest non-Chinese restaurant in town: Pizza Hut. Beer and pizza just really hits the spot sometimes, even if it involves "cheddar sauce" (tastes like boxed macaroni sauce) and warm Tsingtao over ice. We splurged and took a cab, then went out and bought peanut butter at Wal-mart and had ice cream at KFC. Oh the romance of it all...
Down: We had been planning an attempt at a culinary feat for days - butternut squash ravioli. After several trips to nearby supermarkets, we discovered that Parmesan cheese is easier to come by in Chengdu than in Chongqing. So we decided we could settle for mozzarella. After several evening attempts at buying won-ton wrappers for the ravioli, we discovered it is something that must be purchased in the morning. Finally, after deciding we would go for browned butter and garlic sauce instead of alfredo, steaming and mashing our butternut squash, and procuring some early morning fresh Chinese pasta product, we discovered our building's gas had been temporarily shut off. No boiling water for us! We dined on peanut butter and jelly instead.
I wonder what twists and turns tomorrow will bring!
Up: Last week marked our second week of class. We were pleased to have a light schedule and things starting to settle down in the apartment. We realized that the cupboard was full of cookies, crackers and noodles and if we didn't figure out the vegetable shopping situation we'd be suffering carbohydrate overload. The supermarkets here are convenient, but the produce is a little frightening and often features cockroaches scattering when you move the fruit around. I set out to brave one of the crowded fruit and vegetable stands down a nearby alleyway. The produce is tantalizingly fresh and well cared for, but also surrounded by a harried mob of Chinese shoppers. I pushed my way in, observing the pandemonium from above (I'm tall in China!) and found that people were grabbing large plastic baskets from a pile and filling them with vegetables. I grabbed a basket and started poking around the offerings. I realized that the section of the crowd nearest the scale was actually some kind of line. So after I filled my basket with somewhat familiar vegetable items: carrots, green onions, bai cai (aka. bok choi), and eggplant. Then I pushed and shoved my way toward the scale. As I approached, I realized there was a technique to getting your stuff on the scale: hold your hand over the vegetables already on the scale, and when the other produce gets shoved into the bag, plop down your stuff before anyone else can! Which is what I did after a couple tries. I only had to ask the vendor to repeat the price once! I felt quite proud of myself as we settled down to our first real home cooked dinner of stir fried veggies and rice.
Down: Wednesday was a bit stressful as Richy learned via email that morning that a new three hour listening and speaking class had been added to his schedule - to be taught that very afternoon! So much for having a day off together in the middle of the week. After we called some folks in our department to figure out exactly what was going on (the original email didn't even include a room number), we found out that a Chinese English teacher had resigned the previous week and that Richy had been assigned his class. Richy was able to scrape enough material together to keep the class occupied for three hours. Way to keep us on our toes China!
Up: The weekend gave us an opportunity to get together with other PCV pals in the Jie Fang Bei area for an evening of beers, snacks and chats. But not before we got to take a four and a half hour self-guided walking tour of the city! We walked all the way from our house in Da Ping, along the Yangtze River (where we saw the brown-water-braving members of the Yangtze River Winter Swimming Club out for a little afternoon dip) and up the countless flights of stairs to Jie Fang Bei and the oddly pirate-themed "historic" area of Hong Ya Dong. We also entertained our first overnight visitor in our apartment, which forced me to actually straighten up the apartment as a whole, which made me realize how much progress we've made in making it livable.
Down: Third week of class begins while the two of us are still yet to receive school bus cards (or keys to the foreign teacher's office, but that got straightened out later in the day). For our 50+ minute commute to school on the school-owned bus, it costs 5 kuai each way, which means we have to make sure we have correct change everyday, which also means we spend 10 kuai every day we teach. 10 kuai doesn't sound like much - only $1.48 - but when you're living on 45 kuai a day, it adds up. Apparently it takes the school a long time to process these cards. In the meantime, we seem to be the only teachers paying cash for the bus. We also got to go for our second visa interview, which involved much running around town, waiting for the Korean international students, staring awkwardly into cameras and nodding affirmatively at appropriate times.
Up: Richy and I marked our 11 year relationship at the fanciest non-Chinese restaurant in town: Pizza Hut. Beer and pizza just really hits the spot sometimes, even if it involves "cheddar sauce" (tastes like boxed macaroni sauce) and warm Tsingtao over ice. We splurged and took a cab, then went out and bought peanut butter at Wal-mart and had ice cream at KFC. Oh the romance of it all...
Down: We had been planning an attempt at a culinary feat for days - butternut squash ravioli. After several trips to nearby supermarkets, we discovered that Parmesan cheese is easier to come by in Chengdu than in Chongqing. So we decided we could settle for mozzarella. After several evening attempts at buying won-ton wrappers for the ravioli, we discovered it is something that must be purchased in the morning. Finally, after deciding we would go for browned butter and garlic sauce instead of alfredo, steaming and mashing our butternut squash, and procuring some early morning fresh Chinese pasta product, we discovered our building's gas had been temporarily shut off. No boiling water for us! We dined on peanut butter and jelly instead.
I wonder what twists and turns tomorrow will bring!
6.9.10
Kidnapped... in a good way?
So something I have discovered about living and traveling in foreign countries is the constant danger of the friendly kidnapping. This typically involves limited language skills on the part of both parties, an awkward sense of obligation, and some type of vehicle, but the defining characteristic is that there is no way out until your captors decide to release you. If you don't count outings with the host family (which I don't, but sometimes fall within the same bounds of awkward situations that you have absolutely no way out of) we had our first friendly kidnapping in China on Sunday.
It began with a general plan to go to Metro at some point this weekend: a Costco-like German-run box store rumored to carry such delicacies as cheddar cheese, real coffee and oven-like appliances. Saturday ended up being one of those days where it was difficult to get out of the house. We slept in, cleaned, organized, and procrastinated in the apartment, and finally only ended up out of the house in the evening to forage for food. So Metro had to happen on Sunday. Another slow-ish day, but we were both in showering/dressing mode by about 10:30 am. At that point, as I was still running around the house in my underwear (Richy still showering), the phone rang. Earlier this week I had received a call from the same number, which ended up in fact being my first phone conversation in Chinese. At that time, I surmised that the woman on the other end of the phone was a friend of my Jiejie in Chengdu, who had been summoned to help us out with settling into Chongqing. I told her that I had to work during the week and that I didn't need anything, and she said she'd call back on Friday. Apparently she was busy on Friday and decided to call me back on Sunday at 10:30 am. Again she only spoke in Mandarin, thankfully slow, thankfully basic. I told her we planned to go to Metro (called Mai-de-long in Chinese) she then asked me "shenme shi hou" (when?) I told her we planned to leave the house around 11:00am and return at around 3:00pm. She said she wanted to take us out to eat. I said okay. She asked me my address. I told her my address. I assumed we were going to meet at or after 3:00pm. The conversation ended with a cheery "Zai Jian" (see you later) on both sides. I was smug, feeling like I just had my second successful phone conversation in Chinese. Yay!
Two minutes later, while I was still in a state of undress, the phone rang again. She said she was at the end of my street and what building did I live in? What? "Shen zai ma" (right now)? Oh crap. My smugness was immediately replaced with panic. I called to Richy (in the shower) that we were having a change of plans, that I misunderstood and that she was coming to the apartment right now. I threw on my clothes and ran down to the street to find her (I don't have the language skills, even in English to explain where the entrance to my building is). I looked down the street and found a frantic-looking Chinese woman in a purple dress clutching a cell phone just as mine rang. I followed her, answered the phone and sure enough it was her. I invited her up to the apartment, knowing that she might be horrified by the mess, but thinking that I didn't really want to organize ourselves on the street. Richy was still in the shower after all. Up in the apartment, she kept making phone calls, saying something about meeting with some friends who spoke English, and we waited for Richy to dry and dress.
When Richy was ready we went back down to the street and got into her car (the point at which we released control and became kidnapped), a red Ford Focus bedecked on the interior with all manner of Hello Kitty and Minnie Mouse paraphernalia. We assumed she must have a child (which we later discovered not to be the case). She whisked us off to Yang Jia Ping, which is the nearby entertainment district and general mall-like area where we met up with a couple at a small clothing boutique trying clothes on their adorable, pigtailed, three year old little girl. Indeed, one of them spoke English and we quickly surmised that he had just spent a month living with a host family near Seattle. What a coincidence! It was nice, if not a little bizarre, to be suddenly standing there chatting in totally fluent English with someone who knew about our part of the world. Once the outfits were picked out and purchased, he asked us if we would like to have hotpot for lunch. In honesty, hot pot is a little hard on the guts and we had never tried it for lunch before. We cautiously agreed. They took us to a fancy hotpot place in the nearby Paradise Walk mall and were relieved to find individual hotpot burners for each diner. This meant that if anyone ordered duck blood, pig brain, cow stomach, duck intestine, or any other such internal organs we could have a better chance of avoiding it. We even got to tone down the spice in our individual pots in anticipation of not knowing when we would next have unlimited toilet time.
The hotpot was delicious, with a full bar of condiments and pleasant company to share the meal with. I felt like we had made some new, solid friends who were not affiliated in any way with our work at the university. We exchanged phone numbers and they invited us to their house in October when relatives from America would be visiting them. Next, my thoughts turned back to Metro - would we still be going there? It hadn't been mentioned since our first phone conversation. It was already past 2:00pm. We didn't know what to do other than follow Jiejie's friend (her name is Lei Lu) back to her car. We asked her where she lived, trying to politely surmise where we were going. She told us that she lived right by the Metro and that she would be taking us there. I kind of hoped she would just drop us off so we wouldn't have to expose her to our slow and tedious methods of shopping. Of course she considered it her responsibility to escort us, and to try to make our shopping experience as efficient as possible. She asked us what items we were looking for, and although we mostly wanted to browse in awe at all the occidental goods, she didn't seem to have the patience for it and we didn't want to be ungracious for the lunch (she paid for hotpot) and the ride in her car (especially since we were hoping to bring home a toaster oven with us).
We ended up with cheese, coffee, a toaster oven and a wi-fi router. She seemed dismayed at the wi-fi router for some reason that we could not translate and refused to let us buy it. Outside the store, after a heated telephone conversation with someone that featured the word "wi-fi" several times, she took Richy back into the store and let him buy it after all. Finally she took us home - we thanked her profusely and told her she was a "hen hao ren" (very good person). She told us that we were her friends and that we should call her anytime. We ended up back in our apartment at 3:30pm, feeling kind of dazed and wondering how we had the good fortune to experience such a lovely kidnapping.
- Katie
It began with a general plan to go to Metro at some point this weekend: a Costco-like German-run box store rumored to carry such delicacies as cheddar cheese, real coffee and oven-like appliances. Saturday ended up being one of those days where it was difficult to get out of the house. We slept in, cleaned, organized, and procrastinated in the apartment, and finally only ended up out of the house in the evening to forage for food. So Metro had to happen on Sunday. Another slow-ish day, but we were both in showering/dressing mode by about 10:30 am. At that point, as I was still running around the house in my underwear (Richy still showering), the phone rang. Earlier this week I had received a call from the same number, which ended up in fact being my first phone conversation in Chinese. At that time, I surmised that the woman on the other end of the phone was a friend of my Jiejie in Chengdu, who had been summoned to help us out with settling into Chongqing. I told her that I had to work during the week and that I didn't need anything, and she said she'd call back on Friday. Apparently she was busy on Friday and decided to call me back on Sunday at 10:30 am. Again she only spoke in Mandarin, thankfully slow, thankfully basic. I told her we planned to go to Metro (called Mai-de-long in Chinese) she then asked me "shenme shi hou" (when?) I told her we planned to leave the house around 11:00am and return at around 3:00pm. She said she wanted to take us out to eat. I said okay. She asked me my address. I told her my address. I assumed we were going to meet at or after 3:00pm. The conversation ended with a cheery "Zai Jian" (see you later) on both sides. I was smug, feeling like I just had my second successful phone conversation in Chinese. Yay!
Two minutes later, while I was still in a state of undress, the phone rang again. She said she was at the end of my street and what building did I live in? What? "Shen zai ma" (right now)? Oh crap. My smugness was immediately replaced with panic. I called to Richy (in the shower) that we were having a change of plans, that I misunderstood and that she was coming to the apartment right now. I threw on my clothes and ran down to the street to find her (I don't have the language skills, even in English to explain where the entrance to my building is). I looked down the street and found a frantic-looking Chinese woman in a purple dress clutching a cell phone just as mine rang. I followed her, answered the phone and sure enough it was her. I invited her up to the apartment, knowing that she might be horrified by the mess, but thinking that I didn't really want to organize ourselves on the street. Richy was still in the shower after all. Up in the apartment, she kept making phone calls, saying something about meeting with some friends who spoke English, and we waited for Richy to dry and dress.
When Richy was ready we went back down to the street and got into her car (the point at which we released control and became kidnapped), a red Ford Focus bedecked on the interior with all manner of Hello Kitty and Minnie Mouse paraphernalia. We assumed she must have a child (which we later discovered not to be the case). She whisked us off to Yang Jia Ping, which is the nearby entertainment district and general mall-like area where we met up with a couple at a small clothing boutique trying clothes on their adorable, pigtailed, three year old little girl. Indeed, one of them spoke English and we quickly surmised that he had just spent a month living with a host family near Seattle. What a coincidence! It was nice, if not a little bizarre, to be suddenly standing there chatting in totally fluent English with someone who knew about our part of the world. Once the outfits were picked out and purchased, he asked us if we would like to have hotpot for lunch. In honesty, hot pot is a little hard on the guts and we had never tried it for lunch before. We cautiously agreed. They took us to a fancy hotpot place in the nearby Paradise Walk mall and were relieved to find individual hotpot burners for each diner. This meant that if anyone ordered duck blood, pig brain, cow stomach, duck intestine, or any other such internal organs we could have a better chance of avoiding it. We even got to tone down the spice in our individual pots in anticipation of not knowing when we would next have unlimited toilet time.
The hotpot was delicious, with a full bar of condiments and pleasant company to share the meal with. I felt like we had made some new, solid friends who were not affiliated in any way with our work at the university. We exchanged phone numbers and they invited us to their house in October when relatives from America would be visiting them. Next, my thoughts turned back to Metro - would we still be going there? It hadn't been mentioned since our first phone conversation. It was already past 2:00pm. We didn't know what to do other than follow Jiejie's friend (her name is Lei Lu) back to her car. We asked her where she lived, trying to politely surmise where we were going. She told us that she lived right by the Metro and that she would be taking us there. I kind of hoped she would just drop us off so we wouldn't have to expose her to our slow and tedious methods of shopping. Of course she considered it her responsibility to escort us, and to try to make our shopping experience as efficient as possible. She asked us what items we were looking for, and although we mostly wanted to browse in awe at all the occidental goods, she didn't seem to have the patience for it and we didn't want to be ungracious for the lunch (she paid for hotpot) and the ride in her car (especially since we were hoping to bring home a toaster oven with us).
We ended up with cheese, coffee, a toaster oven and a wi-fi router. She seemed dismayed at the wi-fi router for some reason that we could not translate and refused to let us buy it. Outside the store, after a heated telephone conversation with someone that featured the word "wi-fi" several times, she took Richy back into the store and let him buy it after all. Finally she took us home - we thanked her profusely and told her she was a "hen hao ren" (very good person). She told us that we were her friends and that we should call her anytime. We ended up back in our apartment at 3:30pm, feeling kind of dazed and wondering how we had the good fortune to experience such a lovely kidnapping.
- Katie
3.9.10
Back to School
Only when I went to teach my first class did I realize, "Hey, this means summer is over." This has probably been the most busy, fly-by summer of my life, but I am glad that the 100+ degree days and sweltering humidity are done. Of course, we got a new air conditioner in our bedroom just in time for the cool weather. [Cultural side note: installation workers bring their own slippers to wear in your house, but they seem to think smoking in your bedroom while installing your air conditioner is a-okay.] Day by day, as I clear more and more nooks and crannies of dust and grime, this apartment is feeling more like our place in the world. The more days pass without cockroach sightings, the less I feel inclined to jump at every small movement I see from the corner of my eye.
This week, I taught three Writing II classes to second year English Majors, and next week I will be starting a fourth class, Oral English III which will also be for second year students (or so I hear). My schedule will be filled out in three weeks when the Freshmen get done with their military training. Each class is 90 minutes, which counts as two teaching hours. Since I have mostly writing classes, I am hoping I stay around 12 or so teaching hours a week since the grading takes a lot more time than in Oral English classes, and we're supposed to have time left in the week to study Chinese and work on secondary projects. The students in my first class seemed bright and energetic and I was genuinely impressed with the class monitor's organizational skills, but my other two classes will probably be a little more challenging since they are after lunch and the students seemed put upon to stay awake. Richy is teaching all Oral English classes and so far we discovered that we share one class of students.
Chinese class organization is very different than in the West, as students are grouped at the beginning of their Freshman year by major, then continue through all four years taking all their classes together with the same group of students. Students don't get a say in the specific classes they take as they are determined as a whole group and not individually. Just another example of the concept of collectivism vs. individualism. Each class has a monitor, who helps the teacher take care of administrative tasks and organization - they seem to be the only people at the school who actually know what's going on most of the time (the teachers seem to be the last to be notified about schedule changes and whatnot). Needless to say, the students get to know each other very well, so we don't need to work on a lot of getting to know you activities. Richy has pointed out that in many ways our school life in China seems backward from what we're used to in the States: teachers take the school bus to school, students know what's going on before the teachers, and at least at this point, we seem more concerned with our students' evaluations of us than they do with our evaluations of them. So here we go, beginning our daily grind, planning our weekly lesson sets and working on our Chinese language skills in between.
This week, I taught three Writing II classes to second year English Majors, and next week I will be starting a fourth class, Oral English III which will also be for second year students (or so I hear). My schedule will be filled out in three weeks when the Freshmen get done with their military training. Each class is 90 minutes, which counts as two teaching hours. Since I have mostly writing classes, I am hoping I stay around 12 or so teaching hours a week since the grading takes a lot more time than in Oral English classes, and we're supposed to have time left in the week to study Chinese and work on secondary projects. The students in my first class seemed bright and energetic and I was genuinely impressed with the class monitor's organizational skills, but my other two classes will probably be a little more challenging since they are after lunch and the students seemed put upon to stay awake. Richy is teaching all Oral English classes and so far we discovered that we share one class of students.
Chinese class organization is very different than in the West, as students are grouped at the beginning of their Freshman year by major, then continue through all four years taking all their classes together with the same group of students. Students don't get a say in the specific classes they take as they are determined as a whole group and not individually. Just another example of the concept of collectivism vs. individualism. Each class has a monitor, who helps the teacher take care of administrative tasks and organization - they seem to be the only people at the school who actually know what's going on most of the time (the teachers seem to be the last to be notified about schedule changes and whatnot). Needless to say, the students get to know each other very well, so we don't need to work on a lot of getting to know you activities. Richy has pointed out that in many ways our school life in China seems backward from what we're used to in the States: teachers take the school bus to school, students know what's going on before the teachers, and at least at this point, we seem more concerned with our students' evaluations of us than they do with our evaluations of them. So here we go, beginning our daily grind, planning our weekly lesson sets and working on our Chinese language skills in between.
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