Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving. To celebrate I went to McDonalds.

In the last three months, all I've eaten has been Chinese food, barring the Oreos I get on a near weekly basis. I ordered a spicy chicken sandwich, with a Coke and fries. It was okay. I would have much rather had a burrito.

It was only a few days ago that I realized the Thanksgiving was coming up. It reminds of when Halloween came. No decorations commemorating the approaching holiday, no TV commercials advertising any special-themed sales, just a dearth of any holiday spirit in the air.

I realize like Halloween, it will be the first time I celebrate the Thanksgiving outside of the America. Though it feels more like I won't be celebrating it all (although in college I never went back home during the Thanksgiving breaks). I think other than a Subway sandwich, there's no other place in China that sells turkey.

A few students, however, have sent me "Happy Thanksgiving" text messages; while another foreign teacher wished me a happy holiday. That was nice. In retrospect, I really should have planned something today.

---

It's strange, and I feel bad for thinking it. But it's much easier to teach a class when so many of your students are skipping it.

The classes shrink and become so more manageable. I can talk to every student, and talk to them more than once. But then again, there's a group of students, the students who don't come, whom I'll never speak to, let alone see. A terrible irony.

This week, attendance has been low in some of my classes. So low that for a moment, one class only had one student. Nine students later trickled in a few minutes later. But still, my self-esteem as a teacher, sunk below the ground when I saw the vacuum in classroom seats.

The reason for the absences: an upcoming test in another class. Many of the students have decided to opt-out of my lesson and study instead. I understand, not like I didn't skip a few classes in college when something big was up. Still, I'm the teacher now, and sympathy can only go so far. Three students, however, did send me text messages saying how sorry they were they didn't come to class. No big deal I replied. It happens.

We Are The World pt II

One of my students gave a copy of the school newspaper today. On the front page was a picture of me, singing. Oh God, I thought. Yes it was me, smiling and clapping, performing along with a group of other teachers and students. It was the day when we sang the 80's hit "We Are The World" to an auditorium-full of students and teachers. One of my most embarrassing moments in China, this one printed and distributed to what I guess was to the whole student body.

A rare time where I, a former journalist, now becomes the subject of a newspaper photo. Weird.

Teaching Blues

Today I had a class, and one student couldn't reply to any of my questions. The questions were easy, especially this one.

"How often do you watch movies?" I asked.

The student said nothing.

I asked again. All he did in response was give me a blank stare, like he was in trouble. "Every week? Every day?" I said. Nothing, just a weary stare back. Part of me just wish he'd say something, any English word would do. I wish it were just shyness, but after trying to talk with the student some more it was clear, he just didn't know how to say it. His English was not good.

"It's okay, good job," I said, forcing a smile and trying to hide my disappointment, my disappointment in myself.

I've been teaching my students for almost three months. And yet I find that some aren't improving at all. Boy, do I feel like a crappy teacher.

---

I'm trying my hardest. Maybe too hard. Sometimes I find myself up past midnight still preparing a lesson plan. A week ago I spent a day and half working on a lesson about the environment, only to watch it all bomb when I try to teach it. Boring faces is all I saw during that class. I suppose its the same feeling when comedians meet a tough crowd, only that you feel your soul die a little; I'm not kidding. Back to the drawing board.

I wish I could do more. But there are three problems with my classes, which I cannot control.

1. Classes are too big. Most are around 40, a few in the 50s, although some students will often skip.
2. Classes don't mean often enough. Just once every two weeks. In college, I wasn't meeting with my language teachers at least twice a week.
3. Classes aren't organized by their language skill level. As a result, all my classes have the advanced students, and those who can barely pull a simple sentence together.

It's rough. Students will forget entirely what they had learned in the previous lesson; none of my students also seem to ever take notes. Some students will think the lesson too easy, others too hard, all in the same class. And then, due to large class sizes, I hardly have any chances to interact with every the student.

It doesn't help that more and more students seem to be skipping my English class. The reasons: English is too hard, they're too afraid to speak out in class; they rather do something else; basically I suck.

It's heartbreaking.

---

I wish I had more time. Then I could spend time with individual students who need more help. But altogether I teach more than 400 students in total. I remember trying to grade the first homework assignment: write a diary for me. I ended up coming back home with huge stacks of papers all lying about my apartment. I still haven't gotten through them all.

Lately, every Wednesday or Thursday I'm finding myself spending my evening at my school's English Corner.

English Corners are basically an after school activity, where students come together and practice their English together. My school has two different English Corners, run by separate student groups. I come to just help out with things, but there have been times where I feel like I'm teaching the activity. I come out tired, looking forward to bicycle ride back home.

I wish there were an easier way to teach language. But then I look at myself. I've spent my whole life learning Chinese and still, it's not there. Oh well. Even though some of my students seem to be giving up, the teacher can't. Not ever.

Singles’ Day Sucks

Classes did not go well. Only six students did the homework. A few others said they couldn't get to the website where the homework questions were posted. The rest seemed to not care. I must have had at least forty students in the class and it felt way too much like a lecture. As I taught the lesson, my students all seemed so bored. This was after I spent all of Monday and this morning preparing for what I thought would be an interesting lesson. A shitty day, indeed.

I also learned that today is Singles' Day. A student named Teddy texted me about tonight. The reason is because the date reads 11.11 -- all single ones. I'm not sure how it's celebrated and if it's only celebrated in China, but Teddy informed me that most singles just feel lonelier because of it. Sounds like a pretty crappy holiday, I thought to myself.

What’s next: A Chinese U.S. President?

Following Obama's election victory, I've asked my students what they've thought of it. Pretty much complete silence was the response. I'm sure they had plenty to say, but because I wanted them to speak in English, I think all of them were too afraid to relay their thoughts to me. "Is it good, bad, so-so, or not a big deal," I asked one class. "Good" one anonymous student said shyly.

Some of my students have noted that Obama is handsome and young. One student said he liked him because he was a "negro." I wanted to find out more. So today during my Chinese tutoring session, I asked my tutor and her boyfriend what they thought about the election. What her boyfriend said surprised me.

"If America can elect a man from Africa, it makes you wonder if America will ever elect a Chinese as President," he said.

It's funny. In the past week I've read articles talking about how minority parents can now confidently tell their children that they too can be president one day. A few days ago I read about how a little boy wants to be the first Latino U.S. President. But throughout the week, never did it occur to me that perhaps one day America will elect a Chinese or Asian person as President.

I really don't ever see that happening, at least anytime within the next 15 years. There just aren't too many prominent Asian politicians. And I don't think I've had one Asian friend talk to me about entering public office. It's just so left-field, I really have trouble imagining that happening. Part of it may also have to do with the fact that there really aren't too many famous Asian-Americans in the U.S. "Asian-Americans just don't do these type of things" might be one way to put it. (Great, now I'm promoting stereotypes.)

But as I learned happily this week, things do change. A student named Lily who texted me earlier this week said it well. "Nothing is impossible," she texted. "Maybe Obama is an example."

Chinese lessons

It’s a bit ironic, but when I was young I hated learning Chinese.

Like many of my Chinese friends at the time, we all went to the local Chinese school on Sundays to learn Mandarin. I must have done this for at least a dozen years, until my parents finally relieved me of “the torture” when I was around 16; too much homework at the “real school” was my excuse.

For more than a decade I did this, and I can barely remember it; part of me must have purged the memories. Like some of my peers at the time, going to Chinese school felt like a burden. A boring one at that. A perfect Sunday and I was at school, learning Chinese for three to four hours. I remember sometimes dreading the moment when the clock would turn half past noon. It was that time again, time to go to Chinese school. Sigh. One moment I would happily be watching TV or playing video games at home. The next I was in the car, slouched over in my chair, lamenting at how I’d be wasting the next few hours of my young life.

During class, often times I would draw pictures in my textbook, not remembering a thing my teachers would say. There were a few years where I actually tried and did well in the school. But for most of part, I was pretty unmotivated student, my doodling more important to me than remembering a Chinese character.

Last Friday I was thinking about all this as I sat in a classroom at the University. On that day me and two other students were sitting together, learning Chinese of all things. “Man,” I thought. “These guys are so lucky to be learning Chinese.”

One other reason I chose to come to this University to teach was because they were offering free Chinese lessons for us. I finally had a chance to come to one of the classes. Unfortunately it was too easy for my level. We spent half an hour re-reading one section of the textbook, when I could breeze through it in minutes. I could see the other two students struggle to accurately pronounce the characters. But all I could think was how I wish I had my own Chinese class everyday. Then I felt guilt, realizing how such a terrible student I was back then.

--

When I was young, I remember there being a few times when I wondered if I could quite Chinese school. Not just wondered, but secretly wanted it. But I knew that wasn’t a possibility. I had heard this from my family before, how embarrassing it would be to say your Chinese and not yet speak your own native language. Hearing it so many times, I must of psychologically adopted it as my own reason to save face and stay at the school. (Mainlanders have a special term for Chinese who can’t speak their own language. They that person is a “banana.” Yellow on the outside, but white on the inside.)

There was another time when I was maybe 8 or 9, I actually cried one night because I was doing so bad in Chinese school. I cried so much my parents came to my bedside. I wanted to learn Chinese, but didn’t quite know how.

But most often, during my youth, I often felt annoyed with Chinese school. Annoyed at how hard the language was to learn. I went to Taiwan in the summer of my sophomore year, thinking I would magically become fluent in Chinese within a few months. That, of course, didn’t happen.
It was very easy for me to grow frustrated with Chinese school. But to do so, was also to grow frustrated at myself. Frustrated at my own heritage. Frustrated that I was supposed to be something that I could never be.

I think this is why I was never motivated to go Chinese school. I just wasn’t good at it. I was going nowhere. In college things drastically changed. I was a great student in my Chinese classes, eventually going to Beijing in 2004, where I learned even more. And now I’m here in Xi’an, working so that my language will get only better. Why things changed in college I’m not sure. Maybe I was just fed up with the language and wanted to finally learn it. Maybe the teaching was better. But I’m glad I didn’t give up.

--

Still, I wonder, what if I didn’t learn Chinese. Would that be so bad?
After the junior year of my college, I returned back to Chinese school. I hadn’t been there for maybe four years. But I did not want to come back. God no. Mainly because my mom forced me to give a speech to some students there about why they should learn Chinese.

I remember giving the speech and now knowing what the hell to say. I frankly could not come up with a good reason why. I even didn’t know why I continued learning Chinese. I blabbed about how it can help you get a job, and you can talk your grandparents, but that was about it. Then for some reason started talking about getting college internships. The worst part was my Chinese at the time had gotten rusty. I felt I barely could pull a coherent sentence together. I was the last person to give this speech. I flailed my arms around as I spoke, hoping some brilliant idea might flap into my head.

I’ve thought about this from time to time. If I had been honest at the time, I would of said you don’t have to learn Chinese. If you don’t want to do it, then you shouldn’t do it. Not exactly the dose of inspiration my mom would have been looking for. But realistically, I don’t think you can force someone to do something they’re not interested in. I also don’t believe there’s anything wrong not learning Chinese. Being a so-called “banana” is not only rude, but doesn’t mean you’re less of a person. And certainly that doesn’t mean you’re any kind of embarrassment.

I’m not sure why I’ve made learning Chinese a life-long goal of mine. Or why I was invested in coming to China. You’re getting back to your roots a friend once said. I suppose that’s what this trip is about, trying to understand more about myself. Assuming I do “master” Chinese and become more fluent, then what? I have passed some sort of benchmark in Chineseness?

The funny is thing, I think about my own experiences in learning Chinese and can see the parallels with my own students, especially the ones who are struggling to learn. I hope I can help them somehow.

---

After finding that the classes were too easy, I thought I’d probably have to find another outlet to learn Chinese. Well, Friday was my lucky day. I talked with one of the teachers about trying to find a tutor. Her English name is Jasmine, and she wanted to help. We came to an arrangement. Every week we’d try to meet and she’d teach me Chinese, while I would teach her English. All for free. So exciting, now I’ll have my own Chinese class.

U.S.A.! U.S.A.!

Man, I wish I were in America right now.

Earlier this afternoon I learned Barack Obama will become the next U.S. President. I can only imagine the cheering and excitement going on across the country. Like so many Americans, I felt this feeling come over me that can only be described when you are witnessing history being made. Only except that this was a feeling of total triumph and national pride; a feeling that maybe I've never felt before.

Damn, I wish I was there. I learned about the results around noon in China while I sat in front of the laptop at my apartment. Once the media called it, I celebrated by yelling "Yes!" a few times. Really there was nothing to think, but "Oh my god! He did it. He really did it. It's amazing! YES!!" It was a lonely celebration, but an escatic one.

Yea. That's the unfortunate downside of being in China. Just days ago I missed Halloween. It's strange to think of it, but this was the first time I haven't been in America to experience the holiday. I missed seeing the decorations, the ritual black and orange, and the bags of candy that pile up at supermarket stores. In a few more weeks, I'll then miss Thanksgiving. And at this point I'm not sure what I'll do on Christmas, but I'll probably miss that too. I know I can celebrate all the holidays here, but its not quite the same; Chow Mein on Dec. 25th, that's sort of weird.

Now I've missed another important moment, one that won't ever come back again. "Where were you when Obama won the election?" someone might ask. "Uh, I was in China," I'll say, "celebrating alone in my apartment."

After I learned about Obama's victory I had to head out to meet my Chinese tutor. But as I went down the elevator my neighbor was there with me. I wasn't totally sure what his political leanings were; this could either be a great day for him, or a not so great one. But I could sense this excitement burning inside him behind his calm demeanor.

"So how are you doing today?" he asked.

"I am doing great," I said with a grin. "I am so happy. I haven't been this happy in a long time."

He laughed. We then talked briefly about the election results, giddy at what just happened and how Obama was even winning in Montana for a brief moment.

Man, does it feel good to be an American. I've never felt this proud of my country before. U.S.A! U.S.A!

Huh, I did not know that

So apparently China doesn't have daylights savings time.

God, I'm stupid. So two days ago on Sunday my computer set its clock back an hour. I just went with it, thinking, "Hey it's daylights savings time, I get an extra hour. Yay, more sleep!"

Well, it was only until Tuesday morning that I learned I was wrong. I found out as I went to wait for the bus, ready to head for class. I'm ten minutes early, I thought to myself. Then I got a phone call from a teacher at the school. "All your students are waiting for you," she said. "Class started twenty minutes ago."

Shit. I hailed a taxi and then sped off to the school. Once I got there, I then had to run all the way to the otherside of the campus, where my class was taught. Then I had to run up 6 flights of stairs.

I explained to my students what happened. I couldn't tell if they understood, or maybe didn't care, -- or maybe they were hoping I wouldn't arrive -- but they were generally stoic. "Embarrassing" is all I thought.

I later learned that all of China runs on one huge timezone, and that the country never utilizes daylights savings time. No wonder when I went to eat yesterday, the restaurant was completely empty. It was actually 9 p.m. I still can't believe that for two whole days I thought that all the clocks were turned back an hour.

Yea, that's one thing my mom cautioned me about when heading over to China: You can't always make assumptions.

Oops!