Bringin' home the bacon

It is 3:25 in the morning and for some reason I can’t sleep, so I am waiting for my microwave popcorn to finish popping and making use of the time by writing a new blog. On a side note, thank you Sarah for the popcorn among other things in my care package! And while I am making public proclamations of thanks, this one goes out to Dad, Robin, Owen, Mom, Steve, and Barrett for my care packages as well. You guys are the best! And Dad, as you constantly remind me, I have neglected you in previous blogs, so I owe you a long overdue shout out. Here goes: you are an amazing dad and I don’t know what I would do without you; thanks for always supporting me and for still making me laugh with your stupid jokes I’ve been hearing since I was about 2 feet tall. (I’m aware I set myself up for short jokes). I really am ridiculously blessed to have such a plethora of quirky and amazing family and friends. But before this turns into a Hallmark greeting card, let’s return back to the matter at hand. It is now 3:32 am, and I am no closer to ending this bout of insomnia. The only thing keeping me sane at the moment is knowing that I do not have an early morning wake up call, because my first class starts at 2:00 pm. Yep, my day tomorrow is from 2-5:30, and a half hour break in there somewhere. It’s a hard knock life. You might hate me right now, but to add salt to the wound, I love my job. I enjoy going to classes (most days) and because I teach “Oral English,” I have absolutely no papers to grade. I figure it’s about time for a full blog dedicated to the reason I came to China in the first place: teaching.
To be completely frank, teaching here is a far better gig than I had in America. I only work about 16 hours a week, my prep work is minimal, and students actually respect me here – most of them that is. I’m not saying that students in America weren’t respectful – well, actually I am. There were a large handful of students who made it full time job to make my life more difficult. It’s not to say that all Chinese students are enraptured with my every word, but if they don’t care, most of them are at least polite about it. Students here will offer to help me erase the blackboard and bring me small presents and tell me how much they appreciate my class. It’s kind of a nice change of pace from the constant chorus of “this sucks” and “why do we have to do this?”
Since the semester is coming to a close (this only reminds me that I have been slacking on my blogging duties), I am racking my brain trying to think of the most significant information I can tell you about Chinese university students and my teaching experience. I’ll start with a random assortment of trivia First, students here all have English names, although I think some of these students opened an English dictionary one day, randomly pointed to a word and said, “this is my new English name!” My roster includes such students as Lemony, Bleach, Jam, Comb, NoNo, SoSo, and my personal favourite, Blue Baby. I also get a kick out of some of the students with names that would be too old for my grandparents: Mavis, Ethel, Arthur, and Herman. I almost pissed my pants the first time I took attendance. Let’s see…what else? You should know that university life in China is the polar opposite of American college life. From my own personal experience, I recall that a midterm paper usually took a back seat to beer, a good smoke out, and a keg stand. I used to abide by the philosophy “work hard, play harder,” and some of my best memories in college I was so schnockered that I don’t really remember at all. In China, on the other hand, students have the mantra “work hard, work harder” drilled into their brains at an early age. Although drinking is legal from the time you’re old enough to ask for a beer, students here rarely drink or go to bars and it is considered semi-scandalous. Sad to say, but on weekends it’s the teachers and not the students who are dragging their drunken asses through the gates at half past three in the morning. I don’t know whether the Chinese are the ones missing out, or maybe the Westerners didn’t give our education the full attention it deserved. I’m thinking the first one.
So, I’ve covered their “English” names, their lack of partying, and I think you should also know about the typical demeanor of Chinese university students. Most of them are quite shy, and it is a huge deal in China to “lose face.” A lot of them were shitting themselves the first time I met them because they had to speak English with a foreigner. Well, to be fair, my awesomeness can be intimidating. So the vast majority of them are really conservative, shy, and afraid to make asses of themselves. They also still kind of have the mentality and maturity of Western high school students. They get giggly if someone brings up boyfriends or girlfriends, and they laugh at my B level jokes. I don’t even have to bring my A game to these guys; they laugh at anything. They’re also so ridiculously nice it’s insane! My ego’s gotten so inflated here – they bring small presents, offer to erase the black board for me, and burst into rounds of applause if I attempt to speak Chinese. (Note the heavy emphasis on attempt). It’s going to be a ruuuuuuuude wake up call when I go home, and I’m not funny, and no one praises me for using eating utensils correctly. My chopsticks skills are coming along quite nicely, in case you were wondering.
Before I get too mushy, I should tell you it’s not all a bed of roses – there are down sides to teaching Chinese students. They can be so sensitive that it’s sometimes like walking on a land mine. For Mid-Autumn Festival they eat these things called Moon Cakes, and I think they taste like pieces of crap wrapped in more crap. But, some students took it personally when I said I didn’t care for moon cake. Now when they give me barf-flavored presents, I stick them in my purse until I can chuck them. My friend Richard did a lesson British culture (I’m not sure why anyone would want to learn, but whatever) and he did a comparison between Chinese Yuan and the British Pounds. He shoved his Chinese money back in his pocket after the lesson was over, and his students wrote him a letter suggesting that he treat Chinese money with more respect. What was he supposed to do? Frame it? Oy vey!
I also was unaware of the fact that when you sign on to be a teacher in China, you’re signing up for the “performing monkey” gig as well. Students expect you to do a little song and dance number for them, and the school expects you to whip out a performance at any given function. I frequently sing in the shower, but I have rarely received requests for my singing. It’s a little below par, to put it nicely. But students live for this kind of stuff, so I have taught them everything from Journey to Britney Spears. My singing of English songs is a reward for students if they have worked hard. In what ass-backwards universe is my singing a reward and not a punishment? I’m telling you, China is in some parallel dimension. I am in a land where my singing is appreciated and Pizza Hut is a fine dining experience. Who knew?
Land mines and performing-monkey-bit aside, I love teaching here! It’s fun to teach students that the word ‘usually’ is not pronounced ‘urally.’ I love to watch them try out new slang and tell their friends to “peace out.” I really enjoy making friends with students here; they know the best places to eat, and they teach me Chinese for free. These are good kids and I will miss them when I go. Although considering I’m only about 5 years older than them, maybe ‘kids’ is not the most appropriate word. I start giving final exams in a week --- how did this semester pass so quickly? God bless ‘em;I don’t want to go back!