My trip to Xi’an
Two weeks ago some friends and I went to Xi’an. We took the bullet train and it reached a speed of 304 km/h, which is about 50 miles faster than a Virgin Pendolino. We set off after work and it took five and a half hours to get there, so it was straight to bed after we’d had a quick tower of beer at the hostel. We were up bright and early on the Saturday morning, and we were treated to the hostel’s full English breakfast (my first in China!). After wolfing down our food, we headed out on the hostel’s tour to the Terracotta Army. We had a Chinese tour guide that spoke and walked very fast – it was as if there was somewhere else she needed to be. While her manner in addressing us was a bit bizarre (“Sorry, please, excuse me everyone. Hello”) it actually was probably the most British way I’ve heard a Chinese person speak.
The Terracotta Army itself was impressive but it was more of a museum than a monument you just chance upon. It was divided into three pits and each pit was in its own building. There was an excellent moment where a lady dropped her handbag into the pit and this led to a communal gasp from both Chinese and foreign tourists alike. It was interesting to see, but the history of the Terracotta Army is a bit grim. Emperor Qin ordered people to build the soldiers, and once a person had built a soldier he killed them. We were obliged to pay 10¥ for the honour of a man taking a photo of us on our own photographic devices. I’m sorry to say that what is behind me is in fact just a few fake soldiers with a photo background. The actual soldiers (the photo on the right) were firmly cordoned off.
Later that day we went to the city walls. To our delight they had tandem bikes so my friend Teagan and I cycled together around the wall. Sadly, the rest of our friends refused to join us on the tandem bikes. It was quite liberating as we could appreciate that it was a genuinely amusing sight, two foreigners riding a tandem bike.
The city walls were also the location of a couple of wedding photo shoots where the brides were wearing the lucky colour red:
In the evening we went to the Muslim Quarter. This involved a lot of street food and a lot of noise. The vendors were chopping meat in the street, and dancing as they did it. While in Beijing you can buy meat on a stick that resembles a British-style kebab, here you could buy a stick that had not one, but two crabs on it.
As I had been a bit ill all week, I felt rather queasy walking through the market but I admired the sights nonetheless. In order to not feel left out while the others sampled the food, Teagan and I had a fish pedicure. This was quite the feat considering the doctor that performed my electrocardiogram prior to coming to China told me I was the tickliest person she had ever met. Again, I really was a sight for sore eyes as I squealed and squirmed while the Chinese people around me were completely unfazed.
The next day was our final day and we went to visit the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda. The Pagoda was surrounded by a park, which featured many adults at play. In China, it is very common to see adults letting their hair down in public spaces. We saw couples salsa dancing, men drawing on the ground, and women doing a very colourful dance with parasols (see picture below). We then set off back to Beijing ready for the next week of teaching.
Other fun things
I’ve tried to keep the touristy vibe going in Beijing, and last Saturday I visited Lama Temple. It was really impressive, and strange to think that I can just hop on the metro to see something like that.
The hutong near Lama Temple, Wu Dao Ying, is probably my favourite yet. It is full of cafes, and also has an interesting combination of both chic boutiques and hipster fashion stores. I fully embraced Beijing hipster fashion that day and bought myself a cap (who do I think I am?!). On the same evening we went to a Thai restaurant and then out for drinks for a friend’s birthday. I had a beer margarita and managed to make it home while the guard was still awake. It has felt like quite a frivolous week. The great thing about China, though, is that while I don’t have the highest salary, I earn enough to treat myself and I don’t have to worry about rent.
A beautiful brunch in a beautiful cafe in Wu Dao Ying:
Exploring ‘hipster’ Wu Dao Ying. Yes, that’s a green llama with the word ‘motherfucker’ blazoned across it (but it’s completely unrelated to lamas at the lama temple).
On Tuesday some friends and I ventured to our nearest ‘happening’ area in Wukesong. It’s a huge modern complex of restaurants and bars and it was very exciting to discover something that’s so conveniently located (also there’s a slide!). I felt like a normal functioning 20-something year old again, having too many G&Ts on a weeknight. In fact, it felt better than normal, as a G&T cost £1.50 and I set my alarm for 10am, as my first class wasn’t till 11:40am.
Back to school
It’s still a miracle that I’m making it through my days at the primary school. I’m not sure if I’m the only foreign teacher of children without a Chinese teaching assistant, but it sure does feel like that at times. I asked for a teaching assistant but was told that I should just observe other teacher’s lessons to see how they do it. I’ve seen how they do it; they speak Chinese. As I’m a beginner Chinese speaker, it really is the blind leading the blind. In most of my classes, however, we manage to breeze through. Either there’s a student that explains the tasks in Chinese to everyone (essentially my unpaid 10 year old Chinese teaching assistant), or the kids that aren’t interested speak amongst themselves quietly.
This is not the case for Class 1. In Class 1, everyone is screaming. While most are screaming in Chinese, there are also five students at the front that are incredibly enthusiastic and will scream the answers in English (“MY FAVOURITE SPORT IS FOOTBALL!!!!”). As I had only just recovered from my week of being ill and going away for the weekend, I found a Chinese English teacher and simply said, “They’re too noisy.” She took this incredibly seriously and told them that if they don’t want to learn, that’s the end of the class: “Those are the rules.” I did feel a bit bad watching their eyes brimming with tears as they were being told off. I felt especially bad, as at the start of the lesson one incredibly enthusiastic boy had been quietly chanting my name under his breath in order to get it right. This is the same boy that shouted with glee “IT’S ROSANNA!!!” when I showed photos of my trip to Xi’An. He’s adorable.
I’ve come to the conclusion that while teaching Grade 5 is challenging, it’s light relief from some of my more disinterested senior classes. I had one class this week where there was a row napping, a row talking amongst themselves, and then another row napping. The only two boys that actually speak English in the class also decided to take a nap halfway through the lesson. As I’d successfully taught this lesson ten times already, I was particularly frustrated. It’s fair to say I lost it, and told them that if they don’t want to speak they can write, and so next week they’ll be writing an essay on tourism which I will grade. I don’t know how to grade work in China, but I will, and they will be sorry they didn’t bother with what was originally a simple and straightforward spoken English lesson.
I had another bad class last week. One student kept throwing paper across the room and then refused to leave the room when I told him to go out. I also lost my patience with two girls that were giggling over a doodle rather than doing the work. I asked them to hand it to me and they refused. Then I told one of the girls to go out – she refused. I gave up, and then went back over again when the giggling recommenced and she ripped the paper in half and threw it at me. I told my Chinese teachers about the class after and they were shocked and said they’d tell their class teacher. Today I had the same class and as I walked in the room the class teacher was shouting at them and then the two aforementioned students walked towards me with bowed heads and gave me the notes below. I couldn’t help laughing as they handed them to me (reason number nineteen why I’ll never make a good teacher).
I may sound bitter, but the seniors aren’t all bad. In some of my best classes I often feel like we’re going off track and not doing the work because we’re chatting but then I remember that that is literally my job, to teach spoken English. My best senior classes often just descend into chitchat. The boundary between acceptable chitchat and unacceptable chitchat is, however, becoming blurred to some of my students. When teaching about punk fashion, a boy beckoned me over to ask me what I thought about a word that sounded like “Camden.” After several moments I realised he’d asked what I thought of condoms. I told him that was a bad question and walked away. Another male student asked me if it was true that there are lots of strip clubs in the UK. I feel like they don’t know what “inappropriate” means, meaning I have to say, “That is a bad question, he is a bad boy” which doesn’t really do it justice.
A plus of bad behaviour is that it provides a bonding opportunity for me and my Chinese colleagues. They help me out with discipline, and in return I help them out when they ask for a favour. Last week Jade asked to record me speaking, and this week Jessica asked me to transcribe the lyrics to a Christmas song. I also keep being offered food. I shared an apple with two other Chinese English teachers the other week, and Jim from the printing room (JFPR) gave me an orange and some sunflower seeds today. Sadly most of my other Chinese colleagues ignore me – in fact, yesterday I experienced five separate instances of Chinese teachers sitting at my table in the canteen and then moving as soon as another table became vacant. I know that this is mostly because they worry they won’t be able to speak good enough English so I try not to take it to heart.
My next post will be about Christmas (or lack thereof) in China!
Being in Beijing 