Follow Barack Obama (to Learn English)
Seriously, the Chinese regard Obama’s oratory highly. A few of my students listen to his speeches (especially his acceptance speech and the one in Shanghai’s Fudan University) to improve their spoken English. Bookstores also have speeches by other famous Americans in compilations, even a few by George W. Bush. He did make one or two reasonably good ones.
[Cross-posted at The Daily Kos.]
JISHOU, HUNAN — The fall term is coming to a close here. I gave my exams this week, and will spend the next two weeks reading and marking them, so I can return home to see my offspring with a clear conscience.
Before exams, I decided to give my students — and me — a break, and show them a movie. Of course, it had to have some educational value.
Believe it or not, Christmas, at least among our students, is a big thing here in China. They learn about the holiday as part of their English lessons in middle school, but still have only a hazy idea of what it is all about. Chinese textbook authors condense Christmas traditions from the USA, Europe and the UK into a mishmosh of ideas that serve only to confuse, not inform.
Students ask me about how we celebrate Christmas in the USA, and I give them a pretty generic description, based on my own memories of 50-odd previous Christmases. But descriptions, particularly for ESL students, do not really convey the spirit of the holiday. So, I chose A Christmas Carol as the movie I would show all my classes.
Though I did not tell my students, reading or watching A Christmas Carol is one of my own personal Christmas traditions. Frankly, I am a sap for this story. No matter how many times I read the novella or see a movie version, I never tire of it.
JISHOU, HUNAN — On Sunday we had a small student uprising, over hot water, or the lack of it.
The student dorms here do not have water heaters providing hot water from the taps, so students usually use hot water pots or immersion heaters to get some hot water for drinking, washing, etc. Otherwise, they have to go downstairs to hot water dispensers outside the dorms, drop in some coins and fill their oversized Thermos jugs. Considering some dorms have eight floors, you can see why having an electric teapot might be desirable.
Unfortunately, the wiring in some dorms is perhaps a little dodgy and at least 30 years old (I bet), so early Sunday morning there was an electrical fire in one of the women’s dorms. No big deal — no one was hurt and there was little damage — but the university responded with a typically quick bureaucratic response.
Ban all electric heaters. No teapots. No immersion coils. No hotplates. Nada.
This announcement came later that evening, and the students did not take to it kindly. In fact, they took to the campus, yelling, blowing whistles, banging metal lids together, around 11 pm, demanding the uni reverse its unilateral ban on hot water appliances. They kept it up well past 1 am Monday.
Someone even posted a video on one of China’s video-sharing sites, showing the announcements, a queue of girls getting hot water from the dispensers, and a gaggle of vacuum bottles waiting to be filled, while the audio played the students’ Sunday night protests.
JISHOU, HUNAN — Yesterday was unusually busy for me, so I want this chance to take to chronicle it.
Every Sunday, I teach spoken English (and some reading) to five 9-year-olds for two hours. These kids are the children of police officers — friends of my friend Smile, whose husband is an officer, too. One of my student friends helps me in this project, since I need someone to translate English to Chinese. Though the kids are rambunctious, they are also very bright, so the job is not as awful as it sounds (unless the reader happens to be a primary school teacher, who would know what I mean).
At 11, Nora and I left the police residential compound (警公安局 jing gong an ju) and headed for lunch at the university dining hall. There we were joined by four of my students (roommates), our friend from the PE college and a senior in the chemistry college who wanted just to talk with me. Afterward, three of us went for a walk and a sit in the sunshine, which has been in short supply these last four weeks, and the rest went off to their own things.
JISHOU, HUNAN — On the spur of the moment, I decided to invite the other four Americans in Jishou to Thanksgiving dinner. Since two of them live right above me, the original plan was to meet at my place.
Then I thought, why not invite some Chinese friends, too? After all, there are many people who have been my family here, but I have never had them in one place at the same time. By the time I got done compiling a guest list, I had 20 names! I can squeeze at most nine people into my apartment at any one time, so clearly we would have to go to a restaurant.
The other Americans were fine with eating out, and since I teach six classes on Thursdays, it was by far a better idea than cooking at my home.
I had this brilliant idea Monday night. Perhaps I’ve gotten enculturated, because the people around here seem to spring dinner plans on you at the last moment. Planning, schmanning. So, I got busy with my cell phone and sent a flurry of texts to my friends on Tuesday morning.
At lunch, I talked the plan over with my friend, Frieda. Her favorite restaurant is Zejiahu, which is near the north gate of the university and which is where our college’s graduates held a dinner in June. The food is really good and the service, very prompt.
[Cross-posted at The Daily Kos, and rescued from diary oblivion. That's 3 for 3!]
JISHOU, HUNAN, CHINA — Friday, my sophomores in oral English were more animated than I’ve seen them in ages. It was a set of posters that livened them up.
To preface this diary, I need to explain that our classrooms here are barebones dull: white painted walls, beige tile floors, fluorescent tube lighting, wooden desks and chairs bolted to the floor, and a single double-wide chalkboard. We at least have ample natural lighting from the windows along the exterior wall.
And no heat, but that’s for another diary. [It was at least warmer today than yesterday's high of 6° C (about 43° F).]
In September I decided that staring at the mostly bare walls was getting boring, so I decided to spend a little money and order some posters from the USA off the Internet. (I won’t link to the site here, but the site’s name is no exaggeration. They have ALL kinds of POSTERS.) I ordered four at first, one for each class of sophomores, as the freshmen had not started classes yet.
Three were decently sized, but I failed to read the description of one carefully and ended up with a tiny little poster of Mount Rainier. Very pretty, but not exactly awe inspiring. Since class Z1 of sophomore Oral English meets on Fridays, they were the unlucky recipients of the miniature Mount Rainier. The other classes had claimed the larger posters.
JISHOU, HUNAN — Today, while I was working on the computer in the office, my deans asked me if I would like to get a flu shot.
That’s the way they phrased it, anyway. The real meaning, however, was, “We really expect you to get a flu shot. Today. With the rest of the staff.”
But such directness is very un-Chinese. As it was phrased, it took a while for the true meaning of the “request” — or “mandatory option,” as my high school chorus teacher put it — to sink into my thick skull. They caught me while I was in the middle of entering students’ names into the Epals.com website, a task which Epals does not make especially easy by limiting you to 25 names at a time.
Distracted as I was, and still without a morning cup of Joe, I stalled and said I would think about it. My British cohort, David, was also likewise pecking away at another computer. He basically said, no. If it wasn’t a requirement, he would rather not. “I try to avoid taking medicines,” he added.
Soon after, David left to teach his classes, leaving me alone with two deans, the staff assistant and one of the head teachers. They chatted away in local dialect (It’s bad enough I can’t understand putonghua, they have to speak Jishou language!), so I could catch a few words, including the Chinese for “flu” and “teachers,”, and our names, David and John. The dean told me she had had her shot earlier in the morning, so I asked her how she felt. (FYI, she’s about my age.) She said her arm was sore and she had a slight headache. No biggie.
