Teaching In China

Herding Androids

I was attempting to describe my experience teaching English in China to someone, and they likened my descriptions to “herding lemmings.” I would describe it more appropriately as “herding androids.” Yes, I am often reminded of a scene from an episode of “Star Trek: the Next Generation,” where the android Data was considering the way humans perceive time. He tested the expression, “a watched pot never boils,” by heating a pot of water by himself. I don't have the exact transcription, but the conversation between Data and Riker went something like this:

Data: “I hear humans say that 'a watched pot never boils,' but as according to my internal chronometer, I see that the water always begin to boil at exactly six minutes and thirty seconds.”

Riker: “Had you thought about turning off your internal chronometer?”

This is what it's like teaching Chinese kids. They don't understand

sarcasm. They don't understand irony. They seem to have absolutely no creativity whatsoever. And if I don't outline every last step in a procedure, they will be lost. While it can be a challenge to get them to properly follow instructions, they also seem to be adroit at maintaining an utterly neutral expression at times, which makes me occasionally wonder if they're either deaf or brain dead.

When I ask them if they know something or not, or if they understand something or not, they often won't admit it if they don't, as it becomes a matter of “saving face.” They have an overwhelming fear of appearing to be dumb in front of their peers. This also means that when I ask them questions in English, they will speak so softly I'll have to crouch down right next to them to hear what they say. There are rarely times when they will speak loudly enough for others to hear their answers, so the prospect of getting them to speak English to one another often seems out of the question.

Magic Moments

One time I engaged my students in an activity where I would ask each of them to tell me about a famous person they would like to meet. There were some of them that listed basketball stars and singers, popular actors. One girl looked up at me and said, “I want to meet Michael Jackson!”

I believe I scoffed a little at that one and said, “Yeah, that will be difficult.” She looked a little puzzled by my response. Then I snapped my mouth shut. With wide eyes, I wondered, “Could it be possible that they haven't heard the news of his death? Oh my god!” I imagined the whole room beginning to weep after bombing them with news that the King of Pop is dead. I figured they were probably very fond of him. But after discretely asking a few students, I discovered that they actually did know he passed away.

I thought it was an unnecessary clarification, that I should have to ask someone which famous living person they would like to meet.

Unless of course, someone happens to have the means to exhume the corpses of celebrities and resuscitate them.

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My class and I were once having a discussion some of the differences between America and China. One student told me that the US has an advantage over China because it has democracy. I wasn't going to touch that one with a ten-foot length of bamboo. I am very cautious not to reflect unfavorable attitudes towards the Chinese government in my class. I did want to make one point though, “Though some people think that the United States is a democracy, it is actually a republic, which is not exactly the same.”

One girl in the front row started shaking her head. She said, “That can't be right. China is a republic! This is why we are called 'The People's Republic of China!'”

I found that comment to be very amusing. There were a dozen snarky remarks that popped up in my head at that point. The ones I really wanted to make (but didn't) was, “Oh yeah, then who did you vote for in your last election? Oh, what's that you say? (cupping my hand next to my ear) What election? What do you mean you couldn't vote?”

China calling itself the “People's Republic” is much like if Taco Bell was reformed and decided to call itself, the “Heavenly Haven of Ambrosia.” Just an eensy-weensy bit on the disingenuous side.

A Consolation Prize: The Smell of Ass

The building in which I work smells like poop. No joke. You see, the Chinese diet consists of certain ingredients that create the stinkiest of feces imaginable. You can spell the fester of human waste emanating from the restroom all the way down the hall to the classroom where I work. Sometimes I wonder about the janitorial service in the school, as in, why there doesn't seem to be any. In my classroom, I find random strands of long black hair on the floor that have been seemingly collecting there for years. Discarded plum pits, plastic baggies for abandoned snacks, dust bunnies, all are strewn about the classroom: occasionally making me want to gag.

One time in the middle of a lecture, one of the biggest cockroaches I'd ever seen made an appearance from under the wall next to me. It was as though it wanted to introduce itself. I imagined it waving it's leg at me and telling me with a course, New York accent, “Hey, I'm Frank! I'll be right under here if you need anything.” Sensing an unwelcome presence, it scampered back under the wall into the dank obscurity from whence it came.

But getting back to that restroom down the hall: sometimes I fantasize about putting on a hazmat suit and going in there with an industrial cleaning machine and a thousand deodorizers: spraying everything down with bleach. There is a chance that may not be good enough, and incendiary weapons would have to be implemented. It might take flamethrowers to kill the all the bacteria and quell the stench that has accumulated there. What evils hath been wrought?

An interesting side note about that restroom: there is not a single square of toilet paper to be found within. No hand soup or paper towels either. And I highly doubt my students are conscientious enough to bring toilet paper and soap with them. I'm pretty certain some are wiping themselves with their hands and simply rinsing them off... or just not wiping at all, and waiting for a hardening crust to develop in their nether regions. One afternoon I was doing a speaking activity where my students would step out in the hall to recite a dialogue. One kid stood next to me, and I gasped. His odor hit me like a punch in the face. It was as though he hadn't showered in weeks and had been sleeping in sewage.

I'm not going to bother telling you about their breath. You can imagine.

Oh, China

My Chinese neighbor occasionally likes to blast his music. I wouldn't ordinarily be bothered by that, except that he keeps playing a piano rendition of Celine Dion's “My Heart Will Go On.” You know, the theme from “the Titanic?” Every time I hear that noxious melody: God fucking dammit. I don't know if it's a Chinese thing, but they really seem to adore overly sappy, sentimental love songs. They really get into tunes where pansy dudes sing softy about how in love they are. It really strokes their inner clitoris if you will.

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One time while walking out of a supermarket in the city, I saw a woman crouch down with a little girl, holding the girl's legs up splayed in front of her. As soon as I realized that the girl wasn't wearing anything below the waist, I saw the trickle of her urine spilling out onto the asphalt. This is an an example of one of those what-the-fuck moments where my brain shuts down before I try to rationalize what I'm seeing. I just want to move on with my life as though as I'd never seen that. Bodily fluids in public places: China, you so crazy.

Observations from Shanghai and the Middle Kingdom

Holy balls, is there wealth here. Take a step into a major shopping mall in Shanghai, you will see more consumables on sale and being purchased than anywhere in the States. There are tablet computers, smart phones, advanced home theater equipment. It seems that middle class status has discretely packed up its things in the US and migrated to China. You can even see all the standard sights of any Western shopping mall: self-indulgent girls chattering on cell phones and carrying a designer handbags. Oversized advertisements featuring famous Western actors, endorsing crap. Starbucks, KFC, Pizza Hut, they all have their Chinese presence. In Shanghai it's possible to occasionally forget that you have left the West, but the US no longer has a city anywhere near as remarkable as Shanghai.

In Shanghai, McDonald's delivers. Drivers hop on motor-scooters donning red McDonald's helmets and insulated backpacks, dropping off fast food orders to their recipients. I'm thankful this concept of delivery has never been adopted into the Western business model, as I can imagine Americans abusing that kind of service. Many Americans use the drive through at McDonald's to avoid the agonizing discomfort of walking around. If they were to discover that they never have to leave home at all, well that could prove a fateful blow to Western civilization as other fast food chains would follow suit. I can already imagine McDonald's adjusting to their slogan to declare, “No, don't get up, fat ass! We've got you!”

Traffic

Chinese people love their car horns. And they honk the fuck out of them with great zeal. Let me put it this way: The Chinese people have a fever, and the only prescription, is more honking.

The Chinese also hate orderly traffic. If you have never seen a three lane road turn into five rows of traffic spontaneously, you will in China.

This is because the dashed line is only a suggestion. If you feel like riding down the middle of the road on occasion, you can just go ahead and do it. Feel like swerving between cars, and obnoxiously honking your horn like a jackass? In China, it's standard procedure. As soon as a vehicle hits the road, human decency evaporates. They will not brake for pedestrians. They will not wait for lights to turn the right color. There is no turn signal, they just swerve around people and traffic until they get to the place they want. That's how the Chinese get down.

Perhaps it has to do with a lack of regulation, or some kind of education issue. Perhaps China's economic growth has caused the country to get a little too big for its britches. The injection of wealth has put people behind the wheel that would have ordinarily been wheeling around a bicycle cart. Never does it seem to occur to them to say, “Hey guys, this is disorganized and dangerous. Maybe we should behave more cautiously.” Nope! Fuck that! Honk!

Going to the Doctor

Chinese medical care is another point of interest. I went to premium hospital in a major Chinese city to get a diagnosis for an ailment, and when I made into the doctors office, there were numerous people inside, all chattering at the doctor simultaneously. I have no idea why common sense wouldn't dictate that one patient should be seen at a time. Also, the room was filthy. The paint was chipping off the walls and the floor needed to be swept. I'm not going to go into detail about the diagnosis procedure, but let me just say that they are still using glass slides on old-school microscopes in their labs. Hilarious.

Which brings me to one of the strangest paradoxes of life China. How can a nation obtain this much wealth, yet still be marvelously obstinate about the most rudimentary aspects of modern life: such as basic hygiene, the sensibility of cleanliness, the importance of disinfectants, and how to stand patiently in line (for fucks sake)? The Chinese do not seem to get this wait-your-turn concept at all. This petulant rejection of common sense reminds me of an ill-tempered child having a fit at the dinner table. Someone needs to be sent to be bed without desert.

The Ladies

Let's talk about the ladies in China. For the longest time after getting here, it was very seldom that a woman would turn my head while walking around in public. I've heard other Western males declare, “C'mon, Chinese girls are hot!” But from my own shallow perspective on human beauty, I've felt that attractive Chinese women are few and far between. Most of them are shy, pale, mousy girls with glasses and skin problems. They're rail thin, seemingly malnourished, and most of them look like they're twelve years old regardless of their actual age. Very few appear to have fully developed breasts, and the only indication that they're over thirty would be a few gray hairs. They provoke the same sexual attraction in me as a four-foot-tall lamppost. And no, I have not developed a fetish for lampposts.

Then one night I went to a club in the city, and lo and behold, I discovered amazingly attractive Chinese ladies! They had incredible figures, fashion sense, and knew how to properly use cosmetics. Yes, attractive Chinese women do exist, at the right place and time. Unfortunately, in a later discussion, someone explained to me that all of those women (or most) were probably prostitutes. Oh. Well, they certainly didn't seem like they were there to dance or enjoy themselves. Then I started thinking about the way that if any girl in China possesses beauty, it is likely that she will be shucked like an ear of corn and thrown into the sex industry. That's some elegant stuff.

你好！

I'm just starting this blog. Here I will make updates about my experiences in learning Mandarin, going abroad, and living in the Middle Kingdom. If that sounds good to you, please add!