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.
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.
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.
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.
