gettin' schooled

In October 2003, I went to live in a small town called YuLin in Southern China. I had been contracted to teach English at Ying Cai Primary School. The experience taught me so much more than I ever gave to those (poor) students, however. I'm not sure if any of them learned any English words besides "cool, man!" and "hey, teacher!"
Part of my salary included a room in the owner's house, which happened to be smack in the center of the campus where students boarded, as well. Thus, I got to know the students pretty well. Above, you see some of the boys, who never EVER got over the use of peace signs when being photographed. (Note: Someday, I will figure out how to mess with this blogger formatting successfully. And that day will not be today, clearly. grrrrrr.)

On my first morning in my new room, I woke to a rousing recording of "Mary Had a Little Lamb" being blasted from a loud speaker. I looked out my window at the above formation of students, neatly dressed and lined up. Then the band played, they went through a long series of exercises, and there was a flag ceremony. It was 6 am. Man, did that get old.


These are a few of the most adorable children in the world. I had no idea I would be teaching nursery school kids, and the first day the teachers took off and left me there alone for a half hour. The kids and I just sort of stared at each other for about 5 minutes and then they ran around while I tried to make sure no one got hurt. After that I learned that there was no real expectation to teach English from the higher-ups, so we played games and sang a lot of songs. They really liked "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" and "Old MacDonald Had a Farm"- they went to town on the American version of animal sounds, then taught me their version. It became a highlight of my week!


Twice a day, every day, classes stopped to do "eye exercises." What are eye exercises, you may ask? Well, they were started by Chairman Mao during the Cultural Revolution, because he was worried that so many students had poor vision. He instituted these exercises, which were required across the nation. All students would rub their eyes in five different directions to a count over the loud speaker "Eeee, arrr, san, suuuhhhr" (1,2,3,4). I'm bummed that I didn't think to take a picture of the poster with the directions. It cracked me up every single time they did it. Oh, and check out those kids messing around toward the back. Some things are universal.


This is just a typical class, sitting quietly and paying attention. Note that there is a Chinese teacher at the front of the room. When I taught, it was more hit and miss. Some classes got really into the English lessons and I felt like they learned quite a bit. Other classes... not so much. On a side note, check out the details of the classroom, which featured desks which were falling apart, dirty walls, windows with no glass, and neither heat nor cooling. And this was a respected private school. I don't think Americans realize how well we have it (I certainly didn't)!


I love this picture. I'm with all of the girls from both classes in Grade 6. There were 9 girls, and about 45 boys, which is a typical ratio in schools. I understand it's also a typical ratio of the population at large. It's speculated that this may be partially due to the ongoing rule that families may only have one child. These girls were wonderful; they walked with me everywhere, and often came to visit me at my little apartment. They also had mad skills with double dutch, Chinese- style (looks like a giant bungee cord in the shape of a rubber band).

My favorite picture. This collection of boys constituted all of my trouble makers in classes. They would often sneak up to my bedroom window and call "hellllllo, teacher!" in a high pitched voice; it was usually unexpected and scared the crap out of me. They were also fond of daring one another to run through our lower level- in through the back door and out the front. The owner's wife, Mrs. Feng, would inevitably catch them and they'd "get in big trouble," which may or may not have included corporal punishment (not so funny). They never tired of it, though, and I secretly delighted in their fun.

So the story behind the picture: My "kitchen," shared with Mrs. Feng, consisted of a mini fridge, a giant chopping block, and a camp stove; I'm not exaggerating. I had spent the first few weeks eating every meal at the campus dining hall, which served the equivalent of our cafeteria food. Thus, I needed a break from grease. I went to a market and bought fresh foods to make a stir fry with rice (I borrowed a rice cooker from a fellow teacher). While I cooked, those boys stood outside the kitchen window, which held the outdoor sink, and cat- called. Every time I'd walk over to talk with them, they'd run away giggling. When I was finally finished, I offered it to them, and the boy in red (whose name I have long ago forgotten) dared to try it. He screwed up his face and told them something in Chinese that made them all laugh. Then, as always, they ran away.

The next day, I felt a tap on my elbow and turned to see the boy in red. He looked around to be sure the coast was clear then whispered, "Food good!" and smiled before running away.