Wheat-dogg's World

JISHOU, HUNAN — Today marks the first anniversary of my arriving here, exhausted and bleary-eyed after a long trek from Hong Kong to the Chinese interior. I’ve been reflecting on the past year for several days now.

Before I get started on those reflections, I want to say that I don’t regret coming here at all. In many ways, my leap across the ocean is the best thing to have happened to me in several years. I am happier, more relaxed, less hefty, and more sure of myself than I was before. As I have said before, I am one lucky fellow.

Many Chinese who meet me for the first time are surprised that a man my age would decide to leave his children behind and live far from his hometown. They fear I am lonely and unhappy. It’s a cultural misapprehension, though, stemming from the difference in our cultures.

In China, people can retire at 50. They also tend to stay in one place, usually their hometown, for most of their lives. Children are expected either to live with their parents, or at least be a stone’s throw away from them. So, for Chinese unfamiliar with American customs, I should be living somewhere on Long Island with one of my kids, taking care (as many Chinese grandparents do) of the grandchildren, playing majiang or chess, and watching TV.

Of course, I explain that I haven’t lived in my hometown for 35 years, my kids live in three different cities in four different homes, and while I am sure they love me, would prefer I live someplace else anyway. And, for the kicker, I can’t get my retirement income until I am at least 62.5 years old, still about 9 years off.

In all likelihood, if I were still in the USA, I’d be pretty much in the same living arrangement as I am now, except my employer would not be paying my rent. So, why not live in China?

I have told the story of how I got here many times over, but here I go again. Three years ago (this month in fact), my previous employer hired a teacher from China to begin our high school’s Chinese langauge program. She was a professor from Jishou University’s Foreign Language College in Zhangjiajie, about two hours north of here. During that same year, I was getting restless and was considering finding a new job. So, before she left for home, I asked Connie if I could teach English at her university, since I had learned China needs foreign teachers.

Six months later, I received an email from the foreign affairs officer at Jishou U (JiDa, as we call it here locally, for Jishou Da Xue) offering me a position, a contract and information to get my paperwork in order. I dwelled on this momentous decision about a day (or less, actually), told him I would come that September, and told my head of school that I would be leaving in June.

On August 27, with only a one-way ticket, I boarded the non-stop to Hong Kong. I had barely enough money in hand to buy a return ticket should I have had chickened out on arrival. For all intents and purposes, it was (for the immediate future) literally a one-way ride.

My introduction to Hunan was to arrive in Changsha a few days later, in a driving rainstorm, knowing only two things: where the airport shuttle dropped me and where the train station was. I managed to get a ticket for Jishou, and arrived here early on the morning of Aug. 31, the day before classes started.

What a difference a year makes. I’ve been to Changsha and the Changsha train station several times now. I know enough Chinese to read the train announcements board, should I want to buy a ticket. I know more than two places in Changsha, and can almost navigate the bus system unescorted. I’ve stayed at the same hotel enough times to become friends with the manager. I know now that spending a little more money than a train fare provides a quicker, more comfortable, more convenient bus ride. I have traveled between Beijing and Changsha now twice under (mostly) my own power. And this year, on my anniversary of arriving, it thankfully did not rain cats and dogs.

On the teaching side, I cut my teeth on two small groups of seniors and sophomores, about 30 each. The 140 freshmen came a few weeks later. And as I have had to endure for the last 20-odd years, a few months later I had to say goodbye to the seniors, several of home I consider to be dear friends. I think I have convinced most of the freshmen (now sophomores) that it is OK to make mistakes when speaking English; in fact, mistakes are inevitable, so they should just get over it and talk!

Of course, I now have to train a whole new bunch of nervous freshmen the same thing. Some things do not change.

I have heard horror stories from other foreign experts about their unhappy teaching experiences in China and elsewhere: unpaid or late paychecks, contracts that mean nothing, additional duties for no additional pay, random dismissals, poor organization and communication, poor living conditions. Not so here. While my pay is modest compared to what I could receive in Beijing or Shanghai, I get paid every month on time. My contract is honored. I feel secure in my job. I respect and like my colleagues. My foreign affairs officers are helpful and quick to assist me.

And, as I have mentioned before, I work fewer hours and have substantially fewer hassles than I did in my last job. It’s sort of like semi-retirement.

Are there downsides? Of course. The weather here can be horrible, kind of like Kentucky’s. I still cannot carry on a conversation in Chinese, but I can say some actual sentences now. Sometimes the food upsets my stomach, especially if I eat too many peppers too quickly. No central heating means my apartment is chilly in the winter. (Heat pumps suck.) Real-time communication with folks back in the USA is complicated by a 12-14 hour time difference. China’s net nannies arbitrarily have cut off access to some of the sites I used to use regularly, including Facebook.

I am acutely aware, too, that I am not in the United States. Here, I don’t have Constitutional protections of free speech and expression, or religious practice (if I were still doing it). I need to be careful about what I say and to whom. I cannot be too critical of China’s government or its domestic policies. I cannot give anyone the idea that I am attempting to “brainwash” my students or anyone else. It’s important to be diplomatic and to remember that “discretion is the better part of valor.”

On the whole, though, I love it here. I have many friends. Chinese are among the warmest and friendliness people on Earth. No exaggeration. I am learning and experiencing new things. I am growing as a person and as a teacher. I am having fun. And, I am looking forward to another great year.