First Day of Teaching

Today was the first day of class, but it held more mysteries than known quantities. How much English would the students know? We were teaching the first period of the day at 8:00, would the rooms even be open? Would the classrooms have the audio / visual components that we were promised? How old would the students be? Would they respond to humor, or did they want something more serious? Were they willing to even try speaking English? My class sizes range between 40 and 60, but how many students would actually show up?

I found out the answer to that last question was 9. Of the five teachers, three of them had full classrooms, I had nine students, and Ash had none. His classroom wasn’t even open. Ash sat down in the teacher’s lounge (1) to bunker down until his 10:30 class, and I set to teaching the students that I had. The lesson plan that I had prepared for fifty-five students went much more quickly with nine. I had hoped to gauge their creativity by having them play a form of “Two Truths and a Lie.” I think the concept was lost on them, and I did not hear a single lie. On top of that, it’s hard to get lost in a crowd of nine, and the students were far too nervous to get any response other than silent, slightly quizzical stares. No voices, no laughter. I was alone with 9 furrowed brows.

At 8:30 there was a commotion in the hall. A river of students seemed to materialize and flow past my door, making it difficult to hear the already soft-spoken students. I stepped outside under the guise of quieting the commotion, but I think what I really wanted was to escape the mind-numbing monotony of my sabotaged lesson plan.

I step outside to see Mr. Wang, my boss, frantically moving through the students. Apparently there was a miscommunication, and Ash’s students finally arrived. I called him, and told him the good(ish) news, but not all of the hundred-or-so students could be his. I asked one student, and it turned out they were mine. I told him where to go, and when I stepped into my classroom for the second time that day, I saw many, many students. Then the bell rang for the mid-class break, and there was nothing I could do but put my head down on the podium. Then the students laughed.

Class was back in. My lesson shot to hell, I had nothing to do but repeat the information that I gave in the first class. This time the class was much more responsive, and it was a lot more fun. It would be futile to try to stick to the original plan, so I improvised with some free-form conversation, and got a few people to talk.

Left with too little time for my plan and too much time to fill by myself, I dismissed the class 10 minutes early. Nobody moved. I repeated myself, and again, barely a ripple. This was the strangest class I had ever been in. I decided I might as well wander around the room and see if I could get some individual conversations going. Apparently they had a class in the same room the next period. Well, at least they weren’t just freakishly studious, because that would be weird.

The next class period (Geology students) went much better. Everyone showed up, and apparently the lesson plan turned out to actually be pretty decent. Two Truths and a Lie was still a bust, though. Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.

(1) An empty room with wooden chairs. Still, better than a chairless room full of people, which China seems to be full of.

On Names

A quick word on proper nouns. A lot of them will probably be made up. In some cases it might be a nod to privacy, in others it might be my way of telling a story rather than relating events. However, the overarching reason, and the one that will apply to all of my mis-namings is simply that it makes me smile. There you are, don’t get weirded out.

With that, I’m going to introduce you to my co-teachers. Briefly, and with the knowledge that they might one day read this.

Shamrock was named thus simply because he happened to be wearing a green shirt when I met him and looked like he would make a good, if oversized, leprechaun. Later on I found out that he actually was Irish, and felt a little guilty of racial profiling, but what the hey, it still is a funny name. He studied here two years ago, and then came back last year to teach, so this year will be his third year in China and his second year teaching. He is an affable character, and it seems that everywhere we go he is running into someone who he knows, or who at least knows him. I think that Shamrock’s day really starts the previous night in any of Beibei’s many bars, where he will then almost invariably make his plans with his friends for the next day. The amusing thing is that, since he spends most of his time on the streets, he speaks Chongqing Hua (the local dialect) very well, and though I can barely understand him, the locals can often understand him better than they can understand my putong hua (standardized Chinese). Humble pie never tasted so good.

Grins is a friend from Seattle, and she has the unfortunate distinction of being the only girl in our quartet. Kindof lame. She studied here for three months last year, and so has some rudimentary language skills and is well acquainted with where things are in the city. I tend to differ to these two, because though I have a better grasp of the language, they know the city much better than I do, and so I hang back until someone needs something translated.

Ash is perhaps the only true adventurer among us. Though being widely traveled in Europe, he has never been to Asia before, and so all things are new for him. The reason he is Ash is because he is tall and skinny like an ash tree. Oh, and he smokes. That may have something to do with it too. Anyone who is 6’4 and willing to light up when offered a cigarette is pretty much on the fast track to stardom here, so he’s set.

As for me, I think I’m calling myself Scout, not that I ever really refer to myself in the third person. But I’ll keep the name on the bench just in case.