Bushi zuo yi! (No homework!)

In every class you have a 5-10 minute warmer. For upper-level classes, the warmer consists of a Q & A of sorts. The goal in upper levels is to have as little TTT (teacher talk time) as possible. So, when I started teaching, in my upper level classes I would always start class by asking my students how their week was? What did they do? Etc...
Every week their response was “homework. Lots and lots of homework.” So, I stopped asking and we made “homework” a curse word in my class. We don’t say it and I now start class by asking, “Did anyone do anything other than lots and lots of homework?” :) 

Today I am grading my first set of papers. One of my weekend classes had a writing assignment and they had to write about a challenge they’ve faced in life and how they dealt with it and how it made them feel. As a writer and a former editor of my college newspaper and someone who gets dubbed to read many things because I’m a writer, editing is kind of fun for me. After all, I wanted to edit for a living. However, grading papers written by Chinese students who are studying English as a second language is a bit more of a challenge. This particular class is my highest level. These students are all high school level ages 14, 15 and 16, with the exception of one who is 11, and clearly exceptionally bright. 

Many of the students were complaining about the writing assignment and saying they are young and nothing is too hard for them really. They haven’t had many challenges in life. So I told them to write about homework and how much school they have and how that is a challenge because they have little time for fun. They just shrugged and said homework isn’t hard, it’s just a lot and at this point it’s nothing more than a habit for them. So I told them, “Ok then, write about the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.” Needless to say, they all found a challenge to write about. 

So, today I am sitting here grading the papers and many of the challenges are school related. My 11-year-old student writes about homework and school, but she loves it. She says she enjoys learning nd going to school. I have to quote her because it’s fantastic and adorable. The first is her confessing how school brings her joy.

“I like difficult things. Maybe homework is boring for other students, but, I have to tell you, I love homework!” 

Yes, exclamation point and all.

Next she talks about a difficult math test she’s just taken and how she scored poorly.

“I’m not good at math. I had a test yesterday. It was very, very difficult and I got a bad score. I only had sixty-one points! (By the way, teacher, please don’t tell the others.)” 

I literally laughed out loud. She’s 11 years old in a class of 15 and 16 year olds and she’s worried about one bad test score. The Chinese are very prideful people, especially when it comes to their education.

She moves on in her story telling me how she was so upset after the test she cried, but one of her good friends comforted her and she realized it's ok. She also said she wasn't the worst because one kid scored a 30%. She is quite bright for her age. In China, as I've already blogged about once, education is the lifestyle here. (This is also common knowledge.) I am proud of her for saying it's ok to fail a test, even if her mom gets really angry. 

She finished her story by telling me she isn't scared of tests anymore but that she walked in my class that day and we had a test. She said she'd had five tests already that week. 

"Tests! Tests! Tests! It's crazy! So many tests!"

Ha. She is a riot!

So, if you think your day was bad, just remember you didn't take five exams this week. One of which wasn't in your first language. :)

Gray hair, wrinkles and all :)

I love life. 
Living and living well currently. 
I've only just begun to truly live, honestly. 
I am 24. The man next to me on the train this afternoon is roughly 84. 
I wonder what I'll do in the next 60 years... At what point will I tire of living?
Life is hard for everyone. It's just hard in a different light. 
I can't fathom becoming sick of traveling and seeing the world, but I know one day I will.
One day I'll punch in at a nine to five, marry a man, have a few children, and eventually grandchildren, somewhere around celebrating 30 years of said marriage.
I've lived 24 years and I'm happy with the way those 24 years turned out for me so far. Obviously some years were better than others. 
At 24 I've seen 14 countries, lost countless loved ones but gained several dear friends in their place. I've watched some of my best friends marry the love of their life. I have one nephew (not blood.) Most importantly, I've moved far away from home trying to make a start - twice. And all of this has just been in the past 18 months or so. 
In my lifetime, historically, I've witnessed the fall of the Twin Towers in New York City via every TV screen in passing  on September 11, 2001. And I've seen it remembered every 11th of September since. 
Since I was 12, there have been American soldiers, foreign soldiers, foreign civilians and domestic civilians, losing their lives daily fighting in a war "to end terrorism." A war which most people still don't know or understand why we are fighting. Myself included. Doing the math, that is exactly half of my life my country has been at war. 
In 2004 I learned, along with the rest of my state, the damage a natural disaster can cause. Or in New Orleans' case, weak structure can cause. 
In 2005, Katrina came, she saw and she conquered New Orleans and many other gulf coast cities, including cities in the state of Mississippi. 
The devastation of Katrina came when the levee broke. The footage from this natural disaster will forever be in my mind. People sitting on the roofs of their homes waiting for someone to save them. Locals driving around in their boats looking to help anyone they could. Survivors looting throughout the stores in the town taking whatever they could for survival, or some took TVs and other useless commodities. The entire city became water. 
I've lived in a country which has had more public shootings in the past five years than there has been wars in the entirety of man. Or so it seems. One shooting is one shooting too many. 
I've lived through the deaths of countless iconic public figures, including Michael Jackson. 
If I get even 10 more years in this life I can't imagine the possibility of events that will occur.
I got my first gray hair about six months ago when I was living in New York City. That place could give a 10-year-old girl gray hairs. 
My mom laughs at me because I refused to pull the gray hair out, even though it's rooted very obviously at the front of my part. I tell her I'm keeping it because it's my knowledge. 
She tells me to wait 'til I'm 30-something and see how happy I am about grays then. I have always said I'll never die my hair. And I've stuck true to that so far. 
I'll take pride in my gray hairs and my wrinkled skin no matter how early it comes. It's just my body telling a story. 
This isn’t much of a blog, just a few thoughts I had on the way home today. It’s funny how quickly times passes and how fast things change, often in as little as six months time. I guess I’m lucky I enjoy writing and journaling because otherwise I don’t think I’d remember some moments or days in my life. At least not the details of them. I never want to forget my own story. 
Remember where you've come from, and if you can't, you better start writing it down. Some of the most beautiful people I know have more wrinkles than a crumpled piece of paper. Embrace age :) 
The most beautiful person I know is my grandmother. Many of you already know how fond I am of that 'ol broad. Although I may stray form the straight and narrow, at the end of the day I aim for nothing more than to be half the woman she is. 
My G is tough when she needs to be and a softy at all other times. There isn't a stray she won't take in, and I'm not limiting that to four legged critters. She's got a heart of gold and I like to think I at least take after her in that way. She could see the best in her own killer's heart. 
I think about the life she has lived compared to my own 24 years. My G is approaching 75. That's 25 short of a century. I love listening to her talk about growing up and the struggles that didn't even seem like struggles to her then. 
When she was a child, she told me for Christmas they got fresh fruit in their stockings and new dresses and underwear made from cow feed sacks, and that this was a big deal. She remembers growing up through the Depression when her youngest sister was a baby and the neighbors gave her family their milk rations. 
I once asked her how they ever survived life in Louisiana before air conditioning and she simply replied, "we didn't know what we were missing." Brilliant! Now you won't catch my G without the air blasting on 69 degrees or lower. That is her luxury and I daresay she's earned it. 
Every year my G and her family went to Washington to pick apples. Yes, all the way to Washington to pick apples. I still don't understand this. I guess it was the closest thing to a vacation available to farmers. This eventually led to her meeting my Pawpaw and them marrying when she was 15. From there she raised four children, worked, retired and God knows how many worldly events she's witnessed first hand. For starters, Vietnam War, JFK's assassination, Civil Rights Movement, the 70s, and so on. 
I realize I'll live through my fair share of significant historical events, but sometimes I envy the things she's witnessed. 
All this being said, I'm looking forward to the future: good or bad. 

My girl! <3

To all of my former teachers :)

When I went to college I swore I'd never become a teacher and I would never have a career in the medical field. I hate science so the medical field was out, and I never wanted to deal with other people's children so I said no to education.
Here I am, five years later, teaching English to Chinese children as a second language. Which, correct me if I'm wrong, may be more challenging than teaching any subject to students whose first language is English.
I am just as baffled as the rest of you. Believe me.
This isn't a blog about my life as a teacher. I've informed you all of that bit for the most part. This blog is an apology/now-I-understand-what-you-were-doing blog to all of my former teachers.
When I was in elementary school the thing I hated more than anything in the world was progress reports and report cards when teachers checked that little box of, "he/she is not performing to her maximum potential." My response was always, "How the hell do you know my maximum potential, you're not me."
Well, now I get it. I guess it's like a psychic teacher power or something, but you really can tell when a student is trying, trying their hardest or not trying at all.
I try not to become frustrated with my kids because as they are taking English classes "recreationally," this means they have normal school all day Monday through Friday, just as I did growing up. Classes generally work two ways at our schools: Students come twice a week for one hour each day, or they come once a week for two hours at a time. For weekdays we never have a class before 6:00 p.m. Our students spend all day in Chinese school, then come to us for English class. In China, education is top priority. Anything done extracurricularly is not a sport like basketball, dancing or football in America. Our students' only idea of extracurricular fun is English class with EF or another similar company, additional Chinese classes, or some instrumental music lesson (usually piano.) Typically, there is no time for fun, so this is why we try to make our classes as engaging and fun, yet, educational as possible.
I've been teaching for three months now... give or take a few weeks for training and induction courses.  I now have a pretty good idea of who my star students are, who my go-tos are and who will give me the biggest headaches and speak the most Chinese in class.

[Sidebar: we have a rule, "English, please." Obviously we discourage as much Chinese as possible in our English teaching environment. I am only strict in higher level classes with this rule because they know enough English to use it and be understood. With my Small Stars, however, who are barely fluent in Chinese I am obviously far less strict. If you tell a four-year-old Chinese child to not speak Chinese in class, they may as well be mute. We have TAs (teacher assistant) in each low level class and it is their job to interpret. In my higher level classes I allow my stronger students to explain to the others in Chinese if  they don't understand the assignment or task. I always stick to, "English, please!" because "No Chinese!" sounds too harsh. I want to encourage English speaking, but never let them think their native tongue is wrong or negative. They are learning English as a skill, not a necessity to get by in life.]

All of the above being said, I know now why my former teachers would mark progress reports and report cards such as they did. They aren't mean or trying to get me in trouble, it is their duty as a teacher to tell the parent so the student receives support at home as well as in class. I can encourage and motivate my students to my maximum ability, but if they don't receive equal encouragement from mommy and daddy at home my encouragement is irrelevant. This typically isn't an issue with Chinese students and parents. Making mommy and daddy happy in the success department is more a responsibility than a goal. Regardless, I have a few problem students. I'm not talking about being unable to produce the language quickly, use perfect grammar, speak in the correct tense, etc. I mean the students who have zero interest in learning English and blatantly disrupt my classes or do zero work and give absolutely no participation. It's frustrating because I want to be the fun teacher and the teacher whose class they look forward to between all of their other schooling. It's also frustrating because I feel like I am doing something wrong, or not doing enough. I've been reassured relentlessly by my boss and other teachers that it isn't always my fault and some kids just don't care. They also tell me not to be so sensitive and that the feeling of being a bad teacher will decrease, or at least fluctuate, the longer I am one. We'll see...

So, to all of my former teachers who I was a nightmare for, I apologize. I don't think I was often a naughty student, but I do know I talked too much. I also know I hated math and science, so if you taught me either of those subjects, it's not you, it's the subject. I'm also sorry if I ever made you feel like a poor teacher because I lacked motivation. I'm on your side now :)
P.s. If you think it's annoying when students are talking while you're talking, wait 'til they're speaking a language you don't know. Headache ensue. :)

Endurance

Today, my roommate, G, our Venezuelan amiga, Alicia, and myself headed to Summer Palace and to hike a place called Fragrant Hills. Summer Palace and Fragrant Hills are near each other in location, but a solid hour long subway ride away from our home in Shuangjiang.

This is actually my second trip to Summer Palace. I never blogged about the first round. It is obviously amazing if I returned. I am in love with this place. It is absolutely breathtaking. Summer Palace is 720 acres, three of which is the Kunming Lake in its center.
Summer Palace is exactly what it sounds like... This is where the emperors and their families would come for the summers back when China was ran by dynasties. There is a lot of history here and a lot of ground to cover. I honestly just enjoy the scenery.
More than 500 of the 720 acres of Summer Palace is made up of Kunming Lake. I don't know what it is about bodies of water since I've moved to China, but seeing water always thrills me. It's such a rarity when you live in such a large city.
Unfortunately, the pollution level was at 300% today so it was unbelievably smoggy today. My roommate and I have already seen Summer Palace and insisted on returning with out friend because she had to see how beautiful it was. It was still just as beautiful as before, but without the sun glistening over the lake and lighting the entire clear blue sky surrounding the lake, you can't appreciate the palace in its entirety.
On a sunny day, if you look out onto the Kunming Lake, you can see the endless acres that surround it. You can see old men fishing along the ledge. The lake is full of tourists in paddle boats. The sun reflects the mountains in the distance on the water's surface. The vast lily pads that cover the north side of the lake can be seen from yards away.
Here are some pictures from my first trip to Summer Palace...

Now, here are some photos from today's dreary weather. Of course we still made the best of the journey.

The story behind this marble boat is one of the former emperoresses didn't like boats, but for whatever reason she had this boat build of marble to keep here. 

We stopped for our picnic lunch along the bank of the Kunming Lake. We then ventured to toward the exit to take on our next trek of the day: Fragrant Hills.
I would like to officially rename this lovely hiking spot as Fragrant Kills. The reason it is called "Fragrant" is because there is nothing but the smell of blood, sweat and tears. I am a runner and am by no means out of shape, so I thought, but this journey made me feel a solid 67.
We arrived and journeyed straight to the trails. This was no ordinary hike through dirt, sticks and hills. Someone, with a lot of energy and desire to torture future visitors, had the idea to build a stone staircase right up to the top of the hill. Essentially, I climbed roughly 5,000 steps today.
Obviously this is an exaggeration, but I didn't exactly have the energy to get an accurate count. :) 
Somehow, I pushed through and made it to the top. I honestly wasn't sure at certain points. Not only were there countless stairs, but they were at a steady incline. BRUTAL! 
There was a lift along side the trail that we followed up. The only thing in our future were stairs for miles it seemed. The highest point that we could see was a temple of sorts at the peak of the hill. That became our goal and I never thought I'd reach said building. When I saw it, I reached the last step and bowed to the structure in front of me, speechless I'd finally reached the top. We were victorious! 
It was a tough hike, but boy was it incredible. Except the time I thought I was going to sit and wait for my two friends to come back down and when I turned around I was thousands of feet in the mountains and nearly stroked out. The only option was up at that point. 
At the top, when we looked out, it was hard to see anything through the smog. The mountains opposite us, were barely visible, and more gray, than green in color. Below we could make out a smudge of the location where our journey had begun. Between the smog and the height, I'm not sure which was more of a factor in why we couldn't see anything. Probably the smog... Regardless, it felt amazing to be at the top, and despite the 300% pollution in the air, the view was beautiful. I imagine it is spectacular when the sun is shining and the smog clears. 
Red tags hang from the trees at the top of Xianglu Peak (where we were) signed by survivors of the climb. Quite a cool concept. Of course we found a blah one to sign our names on. :)
We began to journey back down and took a 15 minute bus ride back to a subway, then set out for our hour train ride home. Shuangjiang seemed like a destination we'd never reach, but here I am struggling to write this all down before I forget and pass out. 

Looks like dusk, but it's actually about 3:30 p.m.

Fragrant Hills is said to be most beautiful in November, further into the fall when the leaves have all changed.

We followed the lift to the top. You can't even see our final destination from here.

View from the top. Between height and smog, you can see nothing. I can't imagine how beautiful this is on a sunny day.

Really stoked I made it to the top!

The signed red tags.

This is my reenactment of what I did when I reached the top :)

headed down. Goodbye stairs!

Nightmare on subway line 10

This morning I left early for work, in order to arrive early because our big boss was coming in today. I set off on my routine journey to the subway and headed for my usual 35-minute train ride.
Two stops before my transfer station, the subway opens at Shaoyaoju station, but only after some hesitation. Then the doors never closed. Not for 10 minutes, anyway.
Back story - I am claustrophobic. This is a semi-recent fear of mine since I began traveling. Sure I'm brave at moving across the world to live in a foreign country, but I'm still claustrophobic to an extent and scared to death of heights. Both of which I have been trying to overcome. I realize these two fears are all mental, but that doesn't make it any easier.
My claustrophobia comes more from the amount of people in small places, not specifically small places. The fact that people pile 25 deep into an elevator or 300 deep into a single subway cart. In China, the only place you can find space is your own home. There are 19 million people here in Beijing, not including all the tourists and resident foreigners. No place is mean to hold so many humans comfortably!
Normally, if the subway is moving I am fine. It's when it stops for extended amounts of time that I get nervous. I don't like the idea of being underground trapped between concrete walls.
Now that you have a background I will tell you my story, although I am sure you can guess what happened.
After 10 minutes of waiting at Shaoyaju station inside the cart with the doors open, as patiently as I could, the doors closed and the train finally took off. We arrived at the next stop, only to have the yes previous 10 minutes repeated, yet this time, add about 5 ting to minutes. So I'm here for 15 minutes attempting to block out my nerves by reading my book. A man and woman come over the loud speaker to make announcements multiple times, but seeing as I don't speak Chinese, it was of no comfort to me. No one else on the train seemed alarmed, either. I texted my boss and tried to contact all of my co-workers to let them know I'm obviously going to be late, instead of early like I intended when I'd left my apartment 45 minutes ago. I got no responses.
Five minutes later, the train takes off headed toward my transfer station and I feel a hint of relief. One minute later, the train begins to slow down and gradually comes to a halt between the concrete walls. I said a few choice words along with, "you have got to be kidding me." Along with me, the Chinese people surrounding me in the cart also sighed and cursed under their breaths so this time I worried more.
In this moment, one of my co-workers returns my phone call. I answer, in tears, telling him I have no idea what is happening but now the train has completely stopped. He tells me to breath and take my time and not rush getting to work and everything is fine, etc. I said, "I don't even care if I'm late anymore. At this point I just fear I'll die in the Beijing subway and never see my family again."
Drastic I know, but I was panicked and angry. finally, the train continues and lets me off at my transfer station.
In the stations, at both ends of the tracks, there are timers that let you know how long until the next train will arrive. The lights were not on at all.  At this point I assume the entire subway system of Beijing is on the rocks.  I called my coworker back and asked him to text me the school's address because no way in hell was I chancing getting onto another subway cart after the events of the last 40 minutes of my life.
I walked out of the station and grabbed the first taxi I saw. My school is four subway stops from here and a straight shot north. The subway becomes above ground halfway there and my cab driver points, gestures a straight motion with his left hand, then makes a 'vroom' noise. What he was saying is, that's the subway line you were just in and it would be faster to take that and it'll take you right where you want to be.
All I did was point at said subway line and say, "zhege, mei you, bu yao."
I literally said, "that, none, I don't want."
Ha. I used my hand gestures to elicit "broken," to him and he laughed, but surprisingly I think he understood me.
After it all, I made it to work only 45 minutes late. What a start to a Monday!

My first vacation in China :)

Five a.m. wakeup in order to catch a train to Beidaihe at 7:50! In China the traffic never ceases. This is holiday time so the traffic of cars and humans only increases. We made it early enough to Beijing Railway Station to grab a Starbucks coffee and a McDonald's English muffin before jumping on our train, though. 
A two-hour standing train ride passes quickly when you're full of anticipation. 
We arrived in Beidaihe at roughly 10 a.m. We took a sketchy black cab from a man who approached us immediately and continued to follow us to the information station saying, "taxi! Taxi!" 
Regardless, we hopped in the car. Honestly, we weren't sure where he would take us. He had two different phones and received and made phone calls on both. Beidaihe is a Russian-ran, Chinese, tourist beach town. After the second phone call, we were certain he was taking us to his Russian leaders for a human trafficking trade.
He stopped at a hotel that was not where we asked to go, nor where we'd booked our reservation, and continued to convince us it was cheaper than where we'd asked to go. 
Finally, he backed out of the driveway and took us to the correct hotel. Instant relief.
Checking into the hotel was surprisingly the easiest part of our day so far. 
We dropped off our backpacks and traded our tennis shoes for sandals and jetted back outside toward the beach. 

The sun was shining and the weather was a perfect 70 degrees... We had no time to waste!  
We headed to the beach, only stopping for a few pijiu (beer) along the way. We found a terrible place to have lunch, but again, there was beer so we were okay. It's a seafood town and none of us care for it and we had a vegetarian, almost vegan, with us so food was a chore to find. 
We headed to the beach to dip our toes into the Pacific Ocean and enjoy the view. The water was of course freezing, but we were meeting some nice Chinese people who spoke as much English as we did Chinese so it made for interesting conversation. 
Then I saw two guys playing soccer at the top of the beach so I recruited my new Chinese male friends to join with me and my two girlfriends. 
He responded, "but we don't know them." I said, "it's cool, I'm a foreigner so they'll love it." 
And they did! 
We played a mad game of keep away then a three on three game. Managed to work up a sweat though it was nearly 65 degrees by this point. 
We sat with our new friends, Dan and Jesse, after the game and enjoyed another beer. We headed back to our hotel to clean up and meet the guys for dinner. We finally met some cool locals who actually live in Beijing. 
We drove to the next city over where we had a feast over hotpot. This was my first time, and now I know what all the rage is about! Hotpot is a really popular form of dining here. You have a boiling pot in the middle of the table and you cook your own food and make your own dipping saices. The bowl has two sides and you can choose the level of spicy you want in each. You also choose the food you want to cook. I tried a lot of new things last night including prawns and crab. We had dumplings, noodles, steak, radish, carrots and so much more. 
We headed back to Beidaihe and went to the hotel and had a great night relaxing and girl talking. 
We slept in and had a whole day of nothing planned ahead of us. 
We set out for some coffee and breakfast. Close to the hotel was a place called, "Westen Style Food." Obviously we intended to try this, mainly because the misspelling humored us, but it was closed so we just ventured on. We managed to find a coffee shop, but the food was pricey so we just grabbed a coffee and moved on. None of us felt like Chinese food for breakfast so we wandered around for a solid hour trying to find anything remotely Westernized. We ended up in a market area full of shopping and street food so we settled for the unhealthiest breakfast. :) I took two bites and tossed mine and resorted to the apple I'd bought earlier that morning.
From here, we wanted to go parasailing or bungee jumping at a place someone recommended to us. We took a cab to the location, which turned out to be a water park that was obviously closed for the season. We'd assumed the venue was separate from a water park and never considered it wouldn't be open. Instead we turned the cab around and headed back toward the hotel. We grabbed our suits and threw a sweater over and ventured to the beach. 
We took a million photos and were watched and photographed by countless Chinese tourists. It's funny when they are sneakily trying to take a picture and you catch them. For some we just start to pose. I in return take photos of them. 
We took a speed boat ride out into the Pacific that lasted just long enough to get a few photos and we were back on the shore. At this point we were hungry because we technically hadn't eaten today. We found a spot for pizza and continued with our beer drinking. After lunch we were freezing because the sun had disappeared and the rain was coming in. 
We took a shower, had a group meeting and decided it was time to return home to Beijing. We'd done all we could in this town in the last 48 hours! We'd had a great time but we're on vacation and the town was practically shut down. We were also ill-prepared for the cool temperatures. We decided to catch the next train out so now we're here, drinking more pijiu and playing a fun round of 'never have I ever.' We are still enjoying our time off and just going to have sleepovers back home but in warm clothes and in a city with food and fun options!