When I sat down at my desk on Wednesday morning I heard my office mate, Frank, speaking on the phone, " *Chinese Words* Portia *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* Portia *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* Portia *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words* *Chinese Words*." (((Click))) "Frank," I said, "One day, sooner than you might guess, you'll do that and I'll be able to figure out what you're saying about me..." "Oh," he replied, "don't worry. It was only good things." ***long pause for dramatic effect followed by devilish grin*** "you think..." ***my smile turns to quizzical look*** "So... uhhh... what are you planning?"
Wednesday could have been a relaxing day, hang out with the Quality Control Department, learn a little, take care of some personal stuff, etc. etc. go back to the hotel, catch up on emails, sleep. But my lovely new friend had something else in mind for me. Apparently the COO of this company (the vice-Leader?) has a buddy who runs an English school and they got to talking (as the Chinese, I am learning, inevitably do) and my name came up. And well, they thought it would be a great idea for me to go and speak to the kids at the school in English about my travels.
Great. Some people are afraid of spiders, maybe some of heights, or getting quarantined by foreign communist governments. Me? I'm terrified of speaking in teaching environments to high school-aged kids. Maybe I was traumatized for life by my experience in Haiti when one of my monstrous 21-year-old eighth graders called me a racist for kicking those students out who didn't bring books to class (90% of the class). Or maybe it is the fact that I am aware that I am simply not very good at teaching and so avoid such environments... either way.............. GULP.
Frank says, "no problem, it will be easy. You just have to talk for like an hour." "An HOUR!?" "Well, maybe a half hour. Then they'll ask questions. Then we'll have dinner! Easy."
Ok, they're bribing me with food again, I'm a sucker. I'm in.
In the afternoon I'm dragged, knees almost knocking, to the school building where the tragedy that will be my first public speaking appearance in China will occur. Everyone is very nice. Jimmy, the head of the school welcomes me to his office with tea. Above his desk is a large, maybe 20x25 inch photograph of Jimmy in front of the Statue of Liberty under which is written in massive Chinese and English letters "Jimmy in America!" God, I do love the Chinese.
Very soon, too soon, I am ushered into the classroom. My heart sinks to see a teacher in the corner who looks in every way like the caricature of the anal retentive, humorless librarian-type school teacher. I pray she will disappoint.
Jimmy: "Class, this is our foreign speaker, American visitor, PORTIA!"
***followed by a barrage of compliments I won't repeat***
Class: ***mumbles hello***
Jimmy: "Say hello class!"
Class: "Hello"
***halfhearted***
me: "Hello everyone, very nice to meet you!"
I sit next to the teacher and, squaring my shoulders, I open my speech with some Chinese.. a little ice-breaker, if you will (a recommendation of a friend who is very good indeed with kids and things of these sort). The IDEA is perhaps if I look like an ass first, maybe kids won't mind so much looking like asses too when they are inevitably forced to say something to me in English by humorless teacher!
me (in Chinese): "Hello! Excuse me, I would like to ask, can you speak English? I speak a little Chinese, but badly."
***silence***
Teach-zilla: "Maybe you could speak to them in ENGLISH. They want to hear you speak English."
me: "Ahem. Well... I have now said almost EVERYTHING I know in Chinese, and I guess you all speak English very well! So let me tell you a little about who I am and why I am here in China...."
***30 rather painful but maybe successful minutes later***
Teach-zilla: "That was very interesting, wasn't it class?"
Jimmy: "Everyone needs to ask questions! Let's go around the room!"
Teach-zilla: "Yes, do you all have questions for our native American guest?" (she refers to me as the "native American guest" and not by name for the rest of the time)
***points finger at the first slump-shouldered victim***
In the course of over an hour, children of varying levels of Chinese were forced against their will to interact with me. And I, against my will, to interact with them. When the dialogue would falter, Teach-zilla would turn to me and say things like "You need to ask them questions, Chinese children won't just talk to you." And when I would try to come up with questions to ask about, say, hobbies or activities, and they wouldn't reply she would say things like "Chinese children study all the time," and look very smug, indeed.
Nonetheless and despite Teach-zilla's desperate attempts to make me look and feel as small as a mushroom, I got some awesome questions and thoughts:
one kid asked: "So, you study the economy. Why are some countries so rich and some countries so poor?"
me: "well.. that's a great question, I took a whole course that tried to answer that question and no one agreed in the end..."
Wednesday could have been a relaxing day, hang out with the Quality Control Department, learn a little, take care of some personal stuff, etc. etc. go back to the hotel, catch up on emails, sleep. But my lovely new friend had something else in mind for me. Apparently the COO of this company (the vice-Leader?) has a buddy who runs an English school and they got to talking (as the Chinese, I am learning, inevitably do) and my name came up. And well, they thought it would be a great idea for me to go and speak to the kids at the school in English about my travels.
Great. Some people are afraid of spiders, maybe some of heights, or getting quarantined by foreign communist governments. Me? I'm terrified of speaking in teaching environments to high school-aged kids. Maybe I was traumatized for life by my experience in Haiti when one of my monstrous 21-year-old eighth graders called me a racist for kicking those students out who didn't bring books to class (90% of the class). Or maybe it is the fact that I am aware that I am simply not very good at teaching and so avoid such environments... either way.............. GULP.
Frank says, "no problem, it will be easy. You just have to talk for like an hour." "An HOUR!?" "Well, maybe a half hour. Then they'll ask questions. Then we'll have dinner! Easy."
Ok, they're bribing me with food again, I'm a sucker. I'm in.
In the afternoon I'm dragged, knees almost knocking, to the school building where the tragedy that will be my first public speaking appearance in China will occur. Everyone is very nice. Jimmy, the head of the school welcomes me to his office with tea. Above his desk is a large, maybe 20x25 inch photograph of Jimmy in front of the Statue of Liberty under which is written in massive Chinese and English letters "Jimmy in America!" God, I do love the Chinese.
Very soon, too soon, I am ushered into the classroom. My heart sinks to see a teacher in the corner who looks in every way like the caricature of the anal retentive, humorless librarian-type school teacher. I pray she will disappoint.
Jimmy: "Class, this is our foreign speaker, American visitor, PORTIA!"
***followed by a barrage of compliments I won't repeat***
Class: ***mumbles hello***
Jimmy: "Say hello class!"
Class: "Hello"
***halfhearted***
me: "Hello everyone, very nice to meet you!"
I sit next to the teacher and, squaring my shoulders, I open my speech with some Chinese.. a little ice-breaker, if you will (a recommendation of a friend who is very good indeed with kids and things of these sort). The IDEA is perhaps if I look like an ass first, maybe kids won't mind so much looking like asses too when they are inevitably forced to say something to me in English by humorless teacher!
me (in Chinese): "Hello! Excuse me, I would like to ask, can you speak English? I speak a little Chinese, but badly."
***silence***
Teach-zilla: "Maybe you could speak to them in ENGLISH. They want to hear you speak English."
me: "Ahem. Well... I have now said almost EVERYTHING I know in Chinese, and I guess you all speak English very well! So let me tell you a little about who I am and why I am here in China...."
***30 rather painful but maybe successful minutes later***
Teach-zilla: "That was very interesting, wasn't it class?"
Jimmy: "Everyone needs to ask questions! Let's go around the room!"
Teach-zilla: "Yes, do you all have questions for our native American guest?" (she refers to me as the "native American guest" and not by name for the rest of the time)
***points finger at the first slump-shouldered victim***
In the course of over an hour, children of varying levels of Chinese were forced against their will to interact with me. And I, against my will, to interact with them. When the dialogue would falter, Teach-zilla would turn to me and say things like "You need to ask them questions, Chinese children won't just talk to you." And when I would try to come up with questions to ask about, say, hobbies or activities, and they wouldn't reply she would say things like "Chinese children study all the time," and look very smug, indeed.
Nonetheless and despite Teach-zilla's desperate attempts to make me look and feel as small as a mushroom, I got some awesome questions and thoughts:
one kid asked: "So, you study the economy. Why are some countries so rich and some countries so poor?"
me: "well.. that's a great question, I took a whole course that tried to answer that question and no one agreed in the end..."
***10 minute summary on course, including my opinions why***
Teach-zilla: "Well, China, you know has a socialist market economy
***long quizzical pause on my part... mmmKay, moving on...***
one asked: "do you like computer games? "one said: "i used to be a professional ping pong player, but my parents said i wasn't good so i stopped."
***moment of silence***
one kid said: "Hello, please let me introduce myself, my name is Jack. J-A-C-K. Jack. I have many hobbies, I like football and basketball and playing computer games. I am studying English and Japanese too. Thank you very much for coming in to talk to us."
one kid gave me the 2,000 year history of Jingzhou in 3 minutes.
Most of them hid behind there hands and turned bright red before saying a few things.
Jack (back for more) asked: "I want to know how you learned so many languages"
me: "well, I think the trick is you have to think like a little kid and not worry about making mistakes. Just talk and practice and not worry about what people think of you (colorful example provided of me making an ass of myself in Italy)."
Teach-zilla (in for the coup de grace): "Well, the Chinese can be a VERY intolerant people. But I am very tolerant. I do not mind if you all make mistakes, do I children?"
***silence. awkward. swallowing. coughing.***
After the Chinese hour-long (read: 1 clock hour = 2 Chinese hours) teaching (torture) session, Jimmy took six kids, Frank and myself to dinner. We had typical Jingzhou food -- fish and rice and hot pots of meat and chicken and some other things. There was a chicken foot sticking out of the chicken hot pot. Mmmmm. At dinner, lessons continued, I learned how to say "boyfriend, girlfriend, I'm full, corn juice, I'm hungry," and an assortment of random phrases in Chinese.
Part way through the meal, a plate came around with fried round things in in it. "Happy Balls!" One kid exclaimed. Excuse me? "They're called 'happy balls,'" Frank explained, "friend sweet potato." Oh goody, I thought. Sounds delicious. As I reached in, everyone watched eagerly, eyes focused on my every move. "Uh. what gives?" I asked. "They are watching you use your chopsticks," Jimmy replied. "Ooooo," I looked at my closest neighbor, "You think I can't pick up happy balls with my chopsticks?" He nodded vigorously. "Oh you just wait, I won't drop a thing." And I deftly maneuvered my chopsticks, clamped down perfectly on one happy ball and popped it into my mouth. The kids were gleeful. As was I. Fried sweet potato is delicious.
Lesson of the day: Kids say the darndest things. And I still suck at teaching..
Teach-zilla: "Well, China, you know has a socialist market economy
***long quizzical pause on my part... mmmKay, moving on...***
one asked: "do you like computer games? "one said: "i used to be a professional ping pong player, but my parents said i wasn't good so i stopped."
***moment of silence***
one kid said: "Hello, please let me introduce myself, my name is Jack. J-A-C-K. Jack. I have many hobbies, I like football and basketball and playing computer games. I am studying English and Japanese too. Thank you very much for coming in to talk to us."
one kid gave me the 2,000 year history of Jingzhou in 3 minutes.
Most of them hid behind there hands and turned bright red before saying a few things.
Jack (back for more) asked: "I want to know how you learned so many languages"
me: "well, I think the trick is you have to think like a little kid and not worry about making mistakes. Just talk and practice and not worry about what people think of you (colorful example provided of me making an ass of myself in Italy)."
Teach-zilla (in for the coup de grace): "Well, the Chinese can be a VERY intolerant people. But I am very tolerant. I do not mind if you all make mistakes, do I children?"
***silence. awkward. swallowing. coughing.***
After the Chinese hour-long (read: 1 clock hour = 2 Chinese hours) teaching (torture) session, Jimmy took six kids, Frank and myself to dinner. We had typical Jingzhou food -- fish and rice and hot pots of meat and chicken and some other things. There was a chicken foot sticking out of the chicken hot pot. Mmmmm. At dinner, lessons continued, I learned how to say "boyfriend, girlfriend, I'm full, corn juice, I'm hungry," and an assortment of random phrases in Chinese.
Part way through the meal, a plate came around with fried round things in in it. "Happy Balls!" One kid exclaimed. Excuse me? "They're called 'happy balls,'" Frank explained, "friend sweet potato." Oh goody, I thought. Sounds delicious. As I reached in, everyone watched eagerly, eyes focused on my every move. "Uh. what gives?" I asked. "They are watching you use your chopsticks," Jimmy replied. "Ooooo," I looked at my closest neighbor, "You think I can't pick up happy balls with my chopsticks?" He nodded vigorously. "Oh you just wait, I won't drop a thing." And I deftly maneuvered my chopsticks, clamped down perfectly on one happy ball and popped it into my mouth. The kids were gleeful. As was I. Fried sweet potato is delicious.
Lesson of the day: Kids say the darndest things. And I still suck at teaching..
No comments:
Post a Comment