Sunday Evening

Each day here is very unique and different. However, we just finished the first week of the normal teaching schedule that we will hold for the rest of the semester. It’s nice to finally be able to see some consistency in the cards for the rest of the school year. After the week, I also realize that I will need to be sure to take time (maybe a little everyday) to rest and quiet myself.

Let me describe this Sunday evening for you: 4:00—my language tutor comes over and she explains how to correctly produce the vowels and consonants in the Chinese alphabet. At 5:30, a little neighbor girl knocks on the door with a little English book. My language tutor and I talk for a little longer, and then she leaves and I begin reading with the neighbor girl. I read each vocabulary word or sentence first, and then she repeats. Sometimes, we do a little role-play. I have tried to convince her to sing a song with some of the poems in the book, but I think this is too foreign to her so I have not pushed it. It’s also very interesting, because even though she can read some English, I must use Chinese if I want to communicate with her. As you may guess, my Chinese level is that of a 3 year old. So, it’s my 3 year old self communicating with a 9 year old trying to instruct her how to pronounce different English words.

After the neighbor girl leaves, I feel a little hungry. I walk out of our apartment and decide that I should try to cook for myself this evening which means I need to buy more oil, vegetables, and eggs. At the vegetable stand, I ask the boss how much for eggs and tomatoes. I agree to buy the eggs but try to tell him (in 3 year old Chinese) that the tomatoes are too small. He says that they are very delicious tasting. I don’t believe him, but I am too lazy and hungry to bargain any further. Plus, he is very patient and announces his words very slowly in addition to using his hands to tell me how much I should pay.

Next, I stop at the store and buy some oil. Some younger students look at me, say “hello” and giggle. This is normal. While some people are indifferent to the foreigners, some (mostly junior high age) are enamored by us. On my walk home, I buy a bubble tea at the little bubble tea shop. The bubble tea at the shop is not so delicious, but the workers are kind and it’s a good chance to get at least a little calcium in the day.

At home, I cook the egg and tomato dish. Finally—success. Although I don’t mind eating out, the Chinese people feel that it is unhealthy and unsanitary to eat out so much. My neighbors often warn me against eating out and say they seldom, if ever, eat at the little shops where the foreign teachers frequent. So, I figure, “when in Rome . . .” Also, I think that my students feel I am incompetent when I tell them how often I eat out. They have tried to convince me that it is simple to cook Chinese food. So, I have made one dish with success. I will continue to try my hand at cooking Chinese food.

I visit the other foreign teacher for a moment. She has just cleaned her apartment; it looks great—I decide to also spot-clean my apartment. In the midst of cleaning, the phone rings. It is another foreign teacher. She asks me about the English names in one section of freshman students (she teaches their Conversation class while I teach their Pronunciation class.) We have all our students pick English names for both their English Conversation and Pronunciation class. We try to screen the names as they pick them or we have some crazy names. The students in this particular section escaped our name radar and picked some wacky English names. I tell her that I convinced Shooting and Peaken to pick real names, but had no luck with Flamingo and Hey O. She will try to convince these students to pick different names tomorrow. We also decide that we will let Flick and Sandbag keep their names.

The day has gone too fast. I will talk with my parents later this evening on skype, do a little leisure reading, and hit the hay. Good night to a good day!