BeiDa Express

Now that I have been in China for four full weeks, the first two weeks (which, as they were happening, passed as a blur) are becoming all the more granulated as they seep into the sands of my time. There is much to be discussed, but I feel so overwhelmed with the details and anecdotes that I also feel any attempt at including all that should be included will be an inadequate attempt. So, I'll be more dilligent with my layers of thoughts and experiences.

Here was a typical schedule of my two weeks in Beijing.

(5:00--Jog around a park near Haidan Sports Complex; try to do some basic calisthenics using pull-up bars and parallel bars; brush-off stares from old women on non-electrical, outdoor ellipticals while I brush-off sweat accumulating at a pace on par with my sweatiest sauna experience--the dense air pollution in Beijing only exacerbates the fatiguing summer humidity and heat; try not to laugh as ping-pongers grunt and sing during morning training sessions without ping pong balls on the park's ping pong tables; consider the spiritual and physical benefits of those walking and performing tai chi clapping exercises; stretch, shower, bemoan the inescapable scent of backed-up sewage)


7:00--Wake C; get dressed for a day of classes and teaching; and leave the hotel for a jian bing (a street vendor produced breakfast crepe that costs US$0.50 and features egg, chili sauce, scallions, and garlic); grab a cup of coffee at a bakery--I only realize a week after ordering coffee without cream that I had been ordering coffee without breast milk; review Mandarin flash cards or finalize the details of the day's lesson plan.




8:30--I grab a seat in front of the air conditioner for a two-hour Chinese class with the smiling and knowledgeable Victor--it is already over 80 degrees. Over the course of two hours, Victor patiently negotiates our feeble minded attempts to make a different "tch" sound based upon whether our tongue is forward or curled back. During a daily 15 minute break, Victor provides a contextual history lesson about Mandarin, written Chinese, or culture and manners. Each time I speak, I cannot help but shake my head at how ugly the words falling out of my mouth must appear; still, I smile with Victor's "hen hao's" (very good).

10:45--I endure a TEFL lecture with Ben laoshi (teacher). Most days, I prepare the next day's lesson plan. Or I read. I indulge distractions because the lectures barely scratch the surface of my experience leading classes or discussions. Also, I am slightly offended at the slow pace and childish tone that the lecturer takes while trying to "show not tell" a good lesson plan for children learning to read, write, and speak English. I put down my book only when an activity demands my participation; activities are usually children's games like "Telephone" or "Mad Libs."

11:45--Lunch break! Some days I grab a quick and cheap meal from street vendors (usually, this is some sort of meat on a stick or a series of dumplings), other days I sit with fellow teachers for a 20 kuai (Chinese Renminbi) meal in an air-conditioned restaurant (my favorite being Ho's and my least favorite being Tale of Hunan, where they serve mouth-and-stomach-numbing pork lung and weird tofu that resembles super soft cheese curds and tastes super salty), and other days I grab an apple and a dumpling and head to Beijing Daxuie's (BeiDa; Peking University) historical lake. Apparently, the grounds of BeiDa used to be an official's grounds or estate. Many statues, pagodas, bridges, gardens, and original buildings remain in tact. A constant flood of tourists (thousands each day) reminds me that there are a whole lot of people in China--30 million in Beijing alone. Still, the lake is serene with dragonflies and the occasional coy poking its head above the surface hoping I will throw it a dried waxberry.

1:30--Another TEFL activity is timed in my routine to be a recovery period from the carbohydrate-heavy meals and the oppressive heat, humidity, and pollution.

2:15- Plan tomorrow's lesson with my co-teacher Fuat. We teach 15-16-year-old students who have been "invited" (read: "invited after parents have produced adequate funds") to participate in this elite two-week English course with native speakers. Each student has six hours of a class every day, and other teachers in my program cover the other periods. There are eleven age groups in total. Some of my peers do not have co-teachers, but I am lucky enough to have one with whom I not only get along but also with whom I work well. We easily hammer-out a basic lesson plan and spend thirty minutes making the lesson more complex and specifically targeted towards individual students in our 13-person class.

3:00--Teach! I have qualms with the fact that this is supposedly an "elite" opportunity for these students since we are (generally) such amateur teachers. Still, they seem to be learning quite a bit. Fuat and I lead a conversational English course about U.S. History and Culture. Our lessons include: Revolutionary War, Civil War, Holidays, the emergence of Jazz (and the Harlem Renaissance), American poetry, the American Dream and MLK Jr, etc. We never successfully understand what level of difficulty we should create in our lessons since our students can, in one class, learn the word "Democracy" and correctly conjugate it to "Democratic" by the end of the same class while still not knowing the difference between "in" and "on." Still, our students amaze us each day with their ability to analyze, think critically, and appropriately implement our vocabulary and grammar lessons while introducing new vocabulary to one another. By the end of the two weeks together, our class dwindles to just five students because the older ones are required to spend a certain amount of time in army training before their final year of pre-University schooling. The remaining five giggle frequently but are obedient and enthralled with Fuat and myself. We later find out that they think we are handsome.

4:00--Meet with others in my program (CTLC) to discuss pressing issues, visa procedures, outings to The Great Wall, explorations into the bars in the student district, etc.

5:00--Strip to my underwear in my hotel room and just lay in front of the air conditioner for five minutes. As I bathe in the cool air, I realize how firm my bed is. I also realize how orange the sky is--dust and pollution. Sometimes I watch five minutes of "Pleasant Sheep, Bad Bad Wolf," a very popular cartoon, before I grow annoyed with a lack of comprehension and the squealing voices. Shower. Nap?

6:00--Go to dinner with C and other friends. Sometimes, we visit a side street we call "Narnia." "Narnia" has cheap baozi (meat filled steamed dumplings) and one particular family-style restaurant with really cheap and really good eggplant, sichuan green beans (easily the best food I have found here), and lotus root. Revel in a meal with vegetables. Bemoan that there is never potable water at eateries: only cheap beer and recently boiled hot water. Buy a Magnum ice cream bar--Yes, they have three varieties of Magnum in China--and walk around the hotel area. I try to work-up the energy to explore more of the city, but I am exhausted from a long day and I consider I have homework for Chinese class.

9:00--Do a little homework, read a little, and write a little.

11:00--Pass out on my rock-hard bed. Apparently it is good for my back...

My experience of The Great Wall, The Forbidden City, and Beijing's Summer Palace were all highly enjoyable. Any photos, needless to say, do not capture the impressiveness and beauty of these places. I left each place wishing I could have spent at least a few more hours (or days) there.

One of my recommendations for Beijing: Go to an authentic Peking Duck house for a luxurious and traditional delicacy.

The 24-hour train to Shenzhen went fairly smoothly--though C's and my bunk mates (two families with over six members on two beds) were loud. Six people per compartment; 66 per car. I spent most of the time sleeping and reading Oracle Bones by Peter Hessler. When I do look out the window, the passing countryside is never void of some concrete structure. Every village has one--even if the village is a cluster of huts. The further we move from Beijing, the clearer the air.


Shenzhen is beautiful, lush, and lives up to its reputation as the Miami of China. I live ten minutes from the water and a twenty minute bus ride from the beach. My apartment is spacious though moldy in the sea air. Rough around the edges, the apartment has presented a few challenges. But generally speaking, it is much better than I had expected. I have even had the opportunity to learn how to fix a bathroom doorknob!

My school (Haitou Primary) is a five-minute leisurely bike ride away. I take it leisurely because I get to bike down a pedestrian road along the harbor that contains a Soviet aircraft carrier (with MIGs, choppers, etc). In the quiet harbor-side mornings, gardeners and fishermen line the road behind high rise apartment complexes characterized by porches with drying florescent clothes. Across the harbor, Hong Kong's rolling green hills invite a camping trip.


I start teaching on Wednesday (9/1). Wish me luck!