We took our first trip outside of Fuxin this weekend. Taking the train into the unknown, we ventured to Shenyang, China's fifth biggest city. A teeming metropolis with over 7 million people. It was a vast, vast change from Fuxin, and a welcome break. We got to see more sights, had a local guide, who went above and beyond the call of duty, and we got drunk with the first Westerners we had met in over a month. I will let the pictures do the talking from here on in:
Umbrellas for rent at the hotel we stayed at:
I found this in our room. I have never wanted to escape from a burning building so much in my entire life:
Me and my Fuxin partner at the Emperor's pad in Shenyang:
We spent Saturday watching the local football team, Liaoning Whowin:
I managed to lose all feeling in my feet, it was so cold:
Look at us, then look at our guide! Notice that she has no gloves, and no hat. The Chinese are hardcore:
And here is a giant building shaped like a coin. Why? Because like I said before, China, that's why:
And finally, at the delicious meal our host put on for us. Warning, Westerner overload:
I had many expectations when it came to travelling to China. One of the most conflicting was whether I could maintain being a vegetarian. I knew it would be hard before I came, but the reality was even harder. It is virtually impossible to remain meat-free in China. I have encountered several situations where I have been thwarted at maintaining a meat-free diet. For example, our hosts will treat us to lunch, where Chinese tradition means one person will order the dishes for everyone, often without ever consulting us. So I'm left with either refusing these dishes, too much for my English politeness, or trying to eat as little meat as possible. Other situations find me eating a dish that seems meat-free, then without warning, surprise meat attack!
A previous UMSL student had told us that a vegetarian on the last trip had been able to remain meat-free. Now, unless they ate at the dorms every night, which they may have, there is another factor vegetarians have to consider here. The Chinese cook everything in animal fat! So much so, that I'm pretty sure the animal fat, is cooked, in animal fat. So, even if it has no meat in it, it was most likely cooked in meat. Another common element in Chinese cooking is oyster sauce. This once again virtually dashes any chance of staying vegetarian. So, after a couple of guilt-ridden weeks, to maintain some type of sanity, I have resigned myself to eating fish where needed, and not worrying about whether food was cooked in animal fat, etc. Being able to control my diet here is impossible. Unless I limit my experiences and daily routine, in such a manner that will reduce my enjoyment of the whole experience. I have no desire to eat every meal in my deary dorm! I will repent for my sins, once I'm back in America.
Another element that I was completely in the dark about before I came, was the way in which the children would accept me. Well, I have found they have accepted me with great fondness and warmth. The high school students in particular, have offered me their friendship. I have never met such honest, friendly people. I can say without a doubt, that I will be truly heart broken when I leave. I can never in a million years imagine a class of Western students embracing me with such endearing friendship. The friendship of the Chinese people in general has been overwhelming. I spent a semester at my internship school in America, and over three months had about four or five teachers talk to me. Here all the teachers go out of their way to make you welcome. They bring you food, invite you to eat with them, help you with problems, and generally take pleasure in helping you, and becoming your friend. It is deeply touching. I feel sad, that I know it would be different if they were in my situation in the West.
Some good news tonight. I worked on a poetry/music fusion project with my good friend, a few months ago. Well, I found out tonight that a Net Label called Negative Sound Institute have decided to use our material as part of their re-launch line-up.
The tracks are included on his new album "A Spark And An Ebb." I'm over the moon about this, and eternally grateful to my friend for his talent and for submitting our collaboration.
The tracks with my poetry are "A Fatherless Son", "A Spark Flashes", "How Can I Tell Your Story", and "I Could See You At The End of The Garden." But, don't stop there, check out the whole album.
I found this the other day. I'm still undecided as to whether it sells glasses to hobos, or glasses that let you see the world as hobos do. Either way, I think they have found a niche in the Transient Corrective Vision market:
Sometimes I feel useless. I'm on the brink of becoming a teacher. A career, which so far has cost me $40,000 and about 5 years. If I want my Masters, that time and money will continue to increase. I love teaching; I love working with my students. To be able to expand a mind, to be able to spark that passion for literature that burns in me, in another person, excites me in so many ways. To be able to dedicate my life to the field of service, to avoid spending my career in the soul-crushing world of private companies, the world of bottom lines and corporate shills, puts a endless smile on my face. To be able to say I'm a teacher makes me proud.
But, I feel like chaff. The task of looking for a job makes me feel in excess. Jobs are hard to come by. There are hordes of desperate educators flooding into every available port. Those hiring are smiling in gleeful anticipation. Knowing they can demand more experience, demand more certifications, demand the moon on a stick. For a new teacher it seems unattainable. We are expected to be community organizers, volunteer super-heroes, multifaceted in our certifications, extra-curricular martyrs, social-workers, psychologists, experts in educational theories, all this and more, for less pay, and less health-benefits, all in a country which values the teacher less and less. Bend over and smile, because if not, there's a thousand more behind you that will.
For the new teacher these requirements seem insurmountable. We have little experience, little inside knowledge, little to no connections, all whilst burdened by the loans we carry. There seems little hope for me and my kind in such a flooded and selective market. I need someone to take a chance on me, despite my lack of experience, to let me show them my worth is more than words on a sheet of paper, to prove to them that their faith would not be in vain. The social expectation that is my curriculum vitae is bullshit. They know I've jumped through the hoops. They know I love to teach (I've spent the better part of a decade to get a chance to do so). They know I have the theoretical know-how, but I need them to give me a shot at learning the practical.
In an era of anti-intellectualism, we need to regain our faith in those that chose to be the bearers of knowledge. We need to help them with their first steps into teaching. See it as a repayment of a debt; a debt to the teacher that encouraged you to read, a debt to the teacher who saw in you, what others did not, a debt to the teacher who helped spark that passion you never knew you had, a debt to all teachers that came before and those still to come, a debt to their dedication, both to us, and the passage of knowledge.
For the most part, I remain invulnerable to the pang of
culture shock. In part, because I have
always found it easy to adjust to new cultures.
I suppose it has something to do with having a father from Malaysia,
and travelling there at a young age. Emigrating from Britain to America also played a part I'm sure. In fact, when it comes to travel, new
experiences, exploring this world, you could call me a bit of a voyeur, a
hedonist even. I'm not ashamed to admit,
I have a full-blown fetish for navigating this globe. This often makes me seek out the very things that can cause culture shock
I enjoy discovering the nuances of a new country, or a new
place. Finding those things that make my
heart pump a little bit faster. In
China, that sensation is found in everyday life. Here, there is the notion that life is a
little sharper, that its glinting edge, the one keeping the dangers of life at
bay, is a tad more exposed—and if
you're not careful, life in China can give you a nasty cut. As a Westerner, I feel wrapped in a layer of baby fat, that is slowly being stripped away everyday I spend here.
Life in China goes a little like this: Man-hole cover missing in the street? Tough, don't fall down the gaping hole. No toilet paper at the toilets? Bad luck, use a sock. Use china and cutlery at the work cafeteria? Fine, wash your own dishes. Snows on a school day? Don't even think about staying home; the students get up at 5:30 and clear the snow. Pedestrian? Bah, who needs walk signals.
As I mentioned before, life is a constant negotiation in China. "Don't mess with me and I won't mess with you", Life can be found yelling on a daily basis. But, sometimes, it's hard not to. There are, without doubt, several moments a day where I find myself face-to-face with the dangers of life in China. For example: when trying to navigate the rubbish-filled, bomb crater strewn streets, forces me to make for the safety of incoming traffic; I am left to the mercy of unpredictable drivers, who, are bound by no earthly laws or set of rules. Life seems to have it in for me.
So, I guess in a way I'm shocked by these circumstances. But, I think the shock comes more from how life in the West has mollycoddled me, rather, than how life in China is a fight to stay alive.
Thought I would post a quick video to emphasize my point. Can you imagine American/British high school kids running laps at school everyday? Nevermind the fact that it's raining and the Chinese kids seem to be enjoying it:
I also remembered to take a shot of one of my high school classes:
So, my first week of teaching is over, and boy, do I feel exhausted. I think it's mainly due to the fact I have been sick all week, and throw in an erratic sleeping pattern, and you have a very mentally and physically draining week. But, despite this, I have enjoyed it immensely. The staff at the schools have been incredible friendly and helpful; the students have been fantastic, and my lesson plan has not been a complete failure.
The first day of teaching started very ominously, as it became pretty obvious that power point was a no go. Out of seven lessons, I manged to get it running in one class, and that was after 5-10 minutes of downloading updates, etc. I quickly abandoned power point on a projector, and simply walked down the aisles showing it on my laptop. This led me to alter my power point to make it more music heavy (My first lesson was centred on Western music); plus, after a first day of blank stares at most of the songs, I changed the music to be very pop orientated (Michael Jackson, Lady GaGa, etc).
The changes worked great. I changed walking down the aisles, to dancing down the aisles; the kids loved this, and would clap along to the music whilst I danced. I would finish the lessons by having a voting contest to see which songs the students liked best. It was always The King of Pop. I did try to have the students sing along to one song in a class where the projector worked. They where pretty good when practicing, but when I played the song, the volume was simply not loud enough for the whole class to follow and sing-along to. Another lesson learnt regarding reliance on technology here in China!
So, in summary, my first week was a week of hits and misses with me adjusting my aim. I learnt not to rely on technology, but utilized it when I could, I learnt the students love physical demonstration and participation, I learnt that my lesson plans can always be better, I learnt that I can always improve, both as a teacher and a student, and I learnt that it sucks to be ill in a place where everywhere is cold.
Here is a pic of the High School:
And say hello to one of my Primary School classes:
