And Brian Adams Takes the Cake!

Only in China, working as an English teacher, to you hear the phrase, "Thank GOD the weekend is over!"

Saturday morning, all the Lixia Dasha teachers (where we live) met outside at 7am to taxi together to school. Upon exiting the compound, we saw a massive number of what looked like military men, uniformed and unarmed, walking silently and seriously on the other side of the road in a very long line. What made this scene odder was the fact that each of them was carrying a small tin stool in the same way on their hips. "Look, it's the Army of Stools!" Gary shouted in his thick british accent, continuing the banter all the way to school amid much laughter. Fortunately, we speak our own language here, so none were offended. 

This just one example, I am perplexed by so many things here. Not to mention the odd English translations; the grammar is nearly always extremely awkward, creating misleading signs, such as a large flashing "SERVICE ONESELF 24 HOURS" over an ATM.

School Saturday and Sunday was very long. I worked about 10 hours each day. It wasn't the long hours that got to me, but the repetition of the classes. I taught 5 classes at the C2 level, which consists of young kids of 7 or 8 learning pretty basic things. Imagine repeating "I am SWIMMING," and "I am JUMPING," accompanied with actions and the written form on the board, eighty times in one hour only to discover that, when asked, the kids respond "I am SWIM." Now, do this 5 times in a row. I am GOING crazy.

On top of this, I experienced exceptional difficulty with one class. They were level C5, so 10 year olds. I spoke almost robotically slowly, using the vocabulary of a 3 year old, and I was met by blank and utterly bamboozeled asian eyes. Then, lightning stuck; I realized that Anna, who I was covering for, had a thick Aussie accent. So, in a desperate attempt to get my learners to tell me if they truely 'liked apples', I pulled out what was probably the worst British/ Australian accent there ever was. And, like a fog had lifted, they understood everything that came out of my pretending mouth. Needless to say, it was an amusing hour and a half that followed, using phrases like "Atta boy, mate!" and "Blimey!" to add to my character, whom I christianed 'Amy'  as well.

Sunday night is our big night on the town. Celebrating the end of the weekend (another thing I never thought I would say), everyone goes out for food and drinks. Food is family style here, so we ordered a few plates and some rice at a small local restaurant. One dish was really spicy and delicious. Another was a spicy version of mashed potatoes, cleverly disguised as a messy mountain of brown goop. But, also very delicious. Tea is complimentary at every meal, something I could really get used to. I only ate half of what I would have in the States; I'm still in chopstick-training mode. Apparently I was holding them the wrong way, explaining the tenacious handcramps I get halfway through a meal. 

Afterwards, we went to a bar, where they played Nirvana, the Beatles, and, wait for it... BRIAN ADAMS. This was probably the happiest moment of the entire weekend: sitting in a Chinese bar with new friends, walls covered in christmas lights and Santa posters, watching people play old video games on the TV perched above the ridiculously priced imported liquors,  and listening to an acoustic version of "Summer of '69" echoing painfully in the poor acoustics of the room. Doesn't get better than that.

Today, I am a busy little bee. I am going to the gym, cleaning the apartment up, studying some Chinese, and then going to get a new charger for my phone with the aid of a chinese friend. Then it's off to 2 hours of teaching this evening. It's all adults, and much more mature content. And this time, I'm taking over for a Brit with a very soft accent, so I won't have to pretend to be anything I'm not. 

How boring.