Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

The perks of the job

Today I received a wad of cash about two inches thick. All the bills were red, the signature color of China's 100 bill. It's the most cash I've ever been handed in my entire life. And it's all mine.

During my long winter break, I hadn't worked almost single day in the months of January and February. Naturally, I assumed I wouldn't get paid. I mean, why would I?

Well apparently I do get paid, even during my vacation. And I also get a bonus. Today I received all of that money in one lump sum. The school's finance office gave me the cash like it was just everyday business, all the while merrily practicing their English with me. I on the other hand was nervous, feeling like I was stealing something. "They couldn't really give be giving me two months salary for doing nothing?" I had thought. (Xi'an is mainly a cashed-based society, although they are starting to use credit cards at the higher-end stores).

Granted a single 100 Chinese dollar bill is only about $14. But with the stack of money I received, even in America its big chunk of cash, and here in China it's worth even more. And really, I already felt like I made far more than enough to live on, especially with the low cost of living here.

So the perks of this job: One, you get paid even when you didn't work. Two, when you do work, you only teach about 16 hours a week. Three, you get a total of four months of vacation each year. Four, you get a free apartment. Five, it's not really a hard job, unless you want it to be.

I have to say, this job is so different from when I was working as a journalist in Kansas City. While there, I felt like I barely made anything, I would almost always work more than 40 hours a week, and there was only more than two weeks of vacation time each year. Plus you had to deal with the occasional B.S. from uncooperative sources. A bit of a thankless job at times. Though nonetheless, I loved it.

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After I got my money today, I sat in a small park near the school's entrance. I began reading the local paper. Suddenly I was met with a surprise. "Hey teacher," one my students said in Mandarin. Smiling, he ran up to me, and handed me a frozen ice cream.

"Uhh, thanks," I said, grabbing the ice cream cone. I'm still not used to accepting gifts from my students. We then talked, eating ice cream on what was a hot day.

This particular student has a funny English name. I don't know why he picked it, but he calls himself Big Uncle. He apparently was supposed to be in a class as we spoke to each other. But he had to go grab something and so he left. Upon returning to his classroom, he told me he didn't feel like opening the door and disturbing his teacher. So he saw me and decided to buy some ice cream.

I slowly talked to him English, using Mandarin when he didn't understand. All the while, Big Uncle spoke to me, almost charismatically, all in Chinese, hardly uttering a word in English. He's never been good at the language he explained. Often times he doesn't understand what I'm saying in class.

"When the other students nod their heads in class, I nod my head," he said. "When the other students laugh, I laugh."

Big Uncle told me the college here is kind of crummy. I laughed, remembering how this school was once a factory. Although Big Uncle's major is international finance, it's not what he wanted to study. But to switch majors would be hard. Now with the economic crisis going on, he's worried that his degree won't help him much in finding a job. All yesterday he had been in class from 8 a.m. to 5:40 p.m., the two hour lunch break his only respite. "Can you pick any of your classes," I asked. "No, it's all set out for you," he said.

Big Uncle then asked me, "Do you think when you were in college America, it was more relaxed."

"Yes, it was" I said. "I think you guys have much more pressure here."

Finally after we finished our ice creams, I told Big Uncle, you should maybe go back to class, which he did. I am his teacher after all.