Fruits

Two weeks into my summer vacation I read the following job offer on my former associate Godson’s WeChat account: “I have a job in a small city named luochuan where is about 2 hours from Xian by bus.its from 15th to 25th in July.we pay 500 per day with free transportation and free apartment. There are about 4 classes per day.conatct me on my wechat asap if you can.” [sic!]

Rora and I had been making various plans for the vacation by then, but they were all overthrown as we couldn’t find available train tickets, and another plan of teaching for three weeks did not work out as the organizers were unable to get sufficient students. Note to self: plan well ahead when intending to take a train all over China, and buy the tickets in advance.

As I was becoming bored of sitting around in Hanzhong with nothing to do (not true, we went hiking and bike riding, which was lots of fun), I told Rora about the job offer, we agreed to accept it, packed our bags, and left the next morning. It was all a bit spontaneous, you see: Thursday night I read about the offer, Friday morning we got on a bus to Xi’an, and Friday afternoon we sat in Godson’s office to discuss the details. Instead of continuing to Luochan the same day, we were treated to a night in a hotel in Xi’an, and invited to attend the opening ceremony of a music school, Beethoven Music and Arts School (or some such name), the next morning.

This school needed some foreigners for publicity purposes, so Rora and I, as well as A. from France and L. from Sweden, watched the performances. Well, the other three only needed to watch – I was asked on stage to greet the audience (and I was the only one who was paid for this white monkey job). It wasn’t bad, though; the performances were only half an hour long, there was some singing and dancing, of course a lot of promotional pictures were taken with all of us, and afterwards we were taken out for a nice lunch.

After lunch, a private car was ready to take us to Luochuan, Shaanxi, a small town some two and a half hours north of Xi’an. The first thing we saw on entering the town was a big apple – we had previously been told that Luochuan is famous for its apples, and there wouldn’t be much else besides. It really is a small place, and there isn’t much to see or do, so for anyone who is looking for a nice place to travel to: go elsewhere; it’s quite unspectacular.

My job there was to teach two groups of students in a small training center for ten days. Group one consisted of 18 primary school students, aged 9-13, and group two of eight kindergarten kids, aged 3-5. I usually prefer teaching the older students, as I have so little experience with the very young ones, but these ten days have taught me a lot about how I can improve my teaching skills, and I’m more optimistic and confident about teaching kindergarten kids now.

Cherry, the owner of the school, assisted me in teaching every day, and often took us out for dinner. If there is one thing in Luochuan it’s restaurants! Between lesson planning, teaching, and finding food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I did not really have time to do much else, and Rora kept himself busy with his computer – when the internet was working (which it often didn’t). The only interesting place we found was a small folk museum, which reminded us a lot of the Agriculture Museum in Cairo, albeit on a much smaller scale.

Spending two weeks in this small town reminded me of why many foreigners experience a culture shock when they come to China. As we were the only foreigners in this town, we were stared at pretty much all the time. People often approached us to take pictures with them, and it’s all right if they ask first, but many just pull out their phones and film us or take pictures of us without asking for permission. The weirdest experience in this regard was one day when we were ready to order lunch in a small Muslim restaurant, a woman came in, stood right in front of us, took pictures of us without saying anything, and left the restaurant. Even the owner noticed our annoyance at this incident. Another day we had just sat down to eat dinner in a hotpot restaurant, when an older woman and two teenaged children came and sat down at our table and stared at us, with the woman telling the kids to speak English with us (which they didn’t). The waitress noticed our irritation, so I told her we just wanted to eat, and not chat with anyone. We were left alone after that, fortunately.

On the bright side: we sometimes went to a fast food chain called Dicos to get some coffee, where the women at the register called a kitchen worker for help, as he was the only one who spoke some English. We weren’t always lucky with coffee, though. One day we bought two cups at another place, and when Rora took his first sip, he ended up with a dead cockroach in his mouth. Naturally we demanded our money back, and ran as fast as we could.

All in all we had a good time, even if it was stressful for me, and often boring for Rora. Nonetheless we were happy when the two weeks were over, and we could head South once again.

Stay tuned for next week’s post, in which I will tell you about an unexpected encounter on top of a tower, and an overdue reunion in a small countryside village.

Ramadan: Celebrations

Not all of Ramadan was a good time for us this year, because Rora has gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD), which often causes him sleepless nights and physical pain throughout the day, and for me, because I caught a cold, and even had to vomit one day, probably because I ate something wrong. To be honest, we were somewhat relieved when Ramadan was finally over and we could go back to a normal sleeping and eating schedule.

Ramadan, however, is not complete without Eid el-Fitr, one of the most important Islamic holidays, which takes place at the end of the holy month. Everybody goes to the mosque for Eid prayer, and many people celebrate all day long. I always look forward to Eid, but in past years I was prevented from attending the prayer sometimes – last year we arrived a bit too late at the mosque and had to pray outside, the year before, when I was at home in Germany, there wasn’t any space for women at the mosque, etc…

This year, for the most part of Ramadan, I thought Eid would take place on a Sunday, so I did not arrange to have a day off from work. We found out on the Friday before Eid that the prayer would not take place on Sunday, but Monday morning. I accepted my fate of not attending it once again, as I was under the impression that I had to teach my kindergarten students on Monday morning, and there wouldn’t have been any chance of going to the mosque first and reaching work on time.

Somewhat saddened, but not in a bad mood, I went to the kindergarten to start my classes. On entering the classroom the teaching assistants were looking at me like a being from outer space, surprised to see me. They brought another assistant, who speaks a bit of English, only to tell me that I would not have class that day, as the kids had a preparation for primary school. That’s when I lost it and was close to tears. All that was needed was a simple text message a day or two before, informing me that I didn’t have classes that day. I mean, everyone else seems to have been informed about the schedule change, but is it too much to ask to also inform the teacher whose classes have been cancelled? Naturally, by this time it was too late for me to ride to the mosque to attend prayer – it’s a 30 minute ride by bike, and prayer had begun at 8 am.

After reaching my apartment, and closing the doors behind me, a flood of tears broke loose, and didn’t subside for some time.

Rora, on the other hand, had a chance to attend the prayer. There were many people at the mosque, he spoke to a few of them, was greeted by the imam, who speaks Arabic, attended the prayer, took a few videos with his phone, and rode home.

The rest of the day was uneventful, until we attended the high school graduation ceremony in the evening. There were several performances on stage, and a splendid, half-hour long fireworks display after sunset. Rora and I watched the lights in the sky while holding hands, sitting close to each other, and with a smile on our faces.

Ramadan: Arrival

Welcome to part two of this Ramadan series, and welcome to China, once more, to my husband Rora.

After the first week of Ramadan was over I got on a bus to Xi’an to meet Rora at the airport. After checking in at the hostel I hastened to the Muslim Quarter, because I wanted to pray and break my fast at the Great Mosque of Xi’an, the biggest, and probably most famous mosque in all of China. Once I reached the mosque I was already hearing the prayer through some loudspeakers, but I was not sure where the prayer hall was, as this Ming Dynasty (14th-17th century) building has various gates and courtyards. People all pointed me in one direction, and I eventually reached the prayer hall. I was a bit confused when I only saw men and no women, but as the prayer was already halfway over I decided to just pray behind the men.

After the prayer was finished, I was once more welcomed by very friendly people to sit down and have some food, and once more I noticed the absence of women. Actually I was not sitting with the other diners, I was sitting in a room adjoining the kitchen, with two other women, who were kitchen workers.

I was soon on my way again, and walked around the Muslim Quarter for some time, live streaming to my Facebook friends what I saw and heard. At 10 pm I went to the hostel to meet the driver who would take me to the airport and pick up Rora. Once I was in his car I checked Rora’s flight status – it should have left Beijing by then, but was labelled as “delayed”. This meant I had to wait for two hours at the airport, but what’s two hours after having waited for a month and a half?

Around 1 am Rora eventually arrived, and we got to the hostel around 2 am. We ate some simple food, and drank enough water before sleep to get us through the fast the next day. I think we slept until 2 pm, as we were both quite exhausted from traveling. The previous days had been rather hot, so I was relieved that the temperatures had cooled down, but we were not too happy about the constant rain that weekend. The first day we still tried to brave the weather without umbrellas, but at some point we gave in and bought a couple, before becoming completely drenched.

Rora was quite surprised by the big number of Muslims in China – there are about 20-40 millions spread throughout the country, and in Xi’an , a city with a population of 8.5 million, there are around 50000 Hui people, a predominantly Muslim ethnic minority. Even our much smaller Hanzhong has around 4000 Muslims in total.

On Sunday afternoon we spontaneously visited a mosque we were passing, and by chance we found some people with whom Rora could speak in Arabic. This mosque, believe it or not, had a beautiful prayer room for women! In the evening we went to the Great Mosque for prayer and iftar once more, and there, too, Rora was able to communicate with some people. We even met a Jordanian Muslim, who has been living in China for many years. This time we were at the mosque early enough to do a bit of sightseeing in this historical place – which usually requires some entry fee from tourists, but which is free to visit for Muslims. It’s certainly worth visiting!

This time I did not have to sit in the kitchen and instead was sitting with two other women and Rora next to all the other men. When it was time for prayer I was shown the designated prayer area for women – a small raised platform surrounded by curtains next to the entrance of the prayer hall: OUTSIDE the prayer hall! This was seriously disappointing, even more disappointing than the sauna-like prayer room for women in Hanzhong.

Once we were back in Hanzhong the rest of Ramadan, and the rest of the school term, passed rather quickly. We went to the local mosque for iftar once more, and Rora had a long conversation with the imam, who speaks Arabic fluently, and I chimed in with a mix of Arabic and Chinese. That night we were treated a bit like special guests, which I’m already used to, but which for Rora was a new, and slightly embarrassing experience. All eyes were on us, and many people wanted to welcome and talk to us.

In the upcoming third and last part of this Ramadan series I will talk about Eid el-Fitr, the big festival at the end of the holy month.

Ramadan: Beginnings

This year Ramadan, the Islamic holy month during which we abstain from eating, drinking, sexual relations, as well as negative habits from dawn until sunset, was from late May to late June. It was our first Ramadan in China, and the first Ramadan I, Cairene, was working. The last few years Ramadan either fell in my school vacation, or the students were already off, while we teachers sat around at school waiting for time to pass. Actually, I found it was not very difficult to fast all day and teach at the same time – instead it made it easier to get through the day!

The first week of Ramadan I was on my own, as Rora was still in Cairo. On the first day of Ramadan I spontaneously decided to visit the local mosque for iftar – the breaking of the fast – and evening prayer. Having left the house rather late, I rode my bike as fast as I could to get to the mosque on time. When I arrived, quite out of breath, I asked in my broken Chinese where to go to pray, and what time the prayer would start. A kind lady told me to follow her, and took me to the mosque’s dining hall, where on one side of a screen sat all the men, and on the other all the women. Many eyes were on me, as nobody expected to see a foreigner join them for dinner and prayers. The imam welcomed everyone in Chinese and gave a short speech which was followed by supplication in Arabic. We broke our fast that night with a local dish of of rice noodles, as well as some porridge. When it was time for prayer I followed the women to the prayer room.

While the men pray in the mosque proper, the women’s prayer room is in an adjoining building above the dining hall, rather small, and the imam’s recitation of the prayer is played through a speaker. The whole building is very new, and there is no air condition or fan in the women’s prayer room yet, which made the whole experience a bit uncomfortable, to be honest. I am not a fan of this separation of the sexes at all, and it is a global problem: many mosques around the world have no space for women to pray in, or if they do, they are often small and uncomfortable. During the time of the Prophet Mohamed men and women would pray in the same space – men on one side, women on the other…

In Egypt I’ve experienced that women line up for prayer as closely together as possible, which can often be inconvenient, when they try to take up each other’s space – elbows, ouch! In addition to that, many women recite the prayer in a rather loud whisper, which easily distracts one from one’s own prayer. In Hanzhong, on the other hand, the women spread out evenly through the room, and said their prayers in silent whispers.

There are different types of prayers, some of them are called fard, or obligatory, and others sunnah, voluntary. Whenever I went to the mosque in Egypt everyone prayed the obligatory prayer, of course, but only some people stayed for the voluntary prayer afterwards. That first night of Ramadan I was about to get up after the obligatory prayer, and take my things to leave the hot and stuffy room. I was, however, surrounded by women who performed the voluntary prayer – every single woman in the room performed it!

Through observation I learned that many of the voluntary acts of worship are performed like clockwork by the Chinese Muslims. They even have a signal, a bell for example, to begin and end supplication. Everyone stops in their tracks, lifts their hands, says a quiet supplication until the signal sounds again, and then continues with whatever they were doing.

After all the prayers were completed we returned to the dining hall for a proper dinner – that night we ate beef noodles, and whatever we had left from the rice noodles and porridge. One big difference that I noticed between China and other countries that night was that the leftovers, instead of being discarded, were all taken home by the attendees. People in many countries famously overindulge in Ramadan and serve too much food, celebrate excess rather than self-denial, and waste instead of save resources. The Chinese usually do this as well, which made it all the more surprising to me when I saw my fellow diners take out food containers or bags to put the leftovers in.

Before this post gets to long, I’ve decided to split our Ramadan in China into several posts, most likely three, that will focus on different aspects and adventures we had during this holy month. Instead of posting the next update in one week, I shall try to post the remaining parts in the next few days. Tomorrow is my last day of teaching before the summer vacation, which means I will finally have a lot of free time to write, read, and ride my bike.

Settling: Leisure

Working only 20 hours per week, I have a lot of free time. You might wonder what I do with all that downtime, and what Chinese people usually do when they don’t have to work – many work long hours, often 12 hours per day, 6 days per week.

For one, I love reading and listening to audiobooks. Since coming to China two months and a half ago I have finished 18 books, and, by the time I publish this post, I might have finished another two. The audiobooks I’m currently listening to, with a few exceptions, are autobiographies, and the books I’m reading these days are either collections of short stories, novels, or non-fiction. The books relevant for this blog, i.e. China related, that I have read in the last few weeks are W. Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil, On a Chinese Screen, and Yu Hua’s China in Ten Words. Betimes I will write reviews for them and publish them on this blog.

Chinese people like reading, too. Many of my colleagues read books in the office once they are done with lesson planning and grading. I, too, frequently read e-books on my  phone during breaks. There are bookshelves in each classroom and in the hallways, and many kids read when they find time to do it – some even read during class time… Bookshops are popular and often crowded, and while the foreign language sections are usually not well stocked, I still enjoy browsing them.

Another important part of Chinese people’s daily lives is physical exercise. At school most students use all the free time they can find to play some sport or other. My students have a 30 minute PE lesson every morning, as well as another one throughout the day. During their other breaks they can be seen in the hallways playing catch, hide and seek, shuttlecock, dancing, or inventing their own kind of games, or they are outside playing table tennis, basketball, badminton, football, rope skipping, or running. Many teachers join them in the activities, or play sports during their own breaks.

Whatever time of day one goes out into the streets of Hanzhong one can find people playing sports. In the mornings grandmas and grandpas can be seen in parks and squares practicing tai chi. Throughout the day people exert themselves at outdoor gyms or go for a run along the riverbank. In the evening aunties and some uncles can be found dancing in the squares and parks. Even at night people still play sports: the local bike club, for example, meets at 7:30 pm every day, and returns well after nightfall.

I frequently ride my bike around the countryside or explore parts of the city. Sometimes I only take short 10 km rides to the city center and back, at other times I ride up to 30 km through villages, rice fields, up and down hills, along the river or tributaries, on proper streets or dirt roads, through open spaces and forests. I love this way of exploring my surroundings, and now that I own a lightweight hammock, I’m always well equipped for comfortable breaks with a view, provided I find two trees that grow close enough together.

On weekends and particularly on national holidays, Chinese people will flock to the countryside to go hiking, see colorful flowers in bloom, climb a mountain, visit some historical sights, or have a barbecue far away from the city. In short, Chinese people love the outdoors! And given the fact that the countryside is simply gorgeous I can’t blame them. This, however, often leads to the scenic spots being crowded, the ways to and fro clogged with traffic, and the natural places full of litter.

Chinese people also love spending time with their children and grandchildren. Families are close-knit, and grandparents often live in the same home as parents and children. Not only do they spend time together at home, but also outdoors: when you see Chinese parents with their little child you can be sure that the grandparents are nearby.

Chinese elders seem to be very well integrated into social life, and wherever I go I see elderly people. This is a stark contrast to other countries where old people waste away in retirement homes, hidden from the public eye. Nearly every day I see groups of old folks playing cards, Chinese chess, or mahjong under some big tree on the pavement, in parks, or on squares. As I mentioned above, many older citizens engage in physical exercise on a daily basis, and are thus quite sprightly.

With my internet addiction I fit right into Chinese society. I spend many hours of my day online, both on my laptop and smartphone, usually surfing on Facebook, chatting with friends on WhatsApp or WeChat, watching movies or clips on Youtube, or reading the news. Chinese people LOVE the internet. They do a lot of online shopping, order food, taxis, or many services from their phones, pay on the go with their WeChat Wallet, play video games, share selfies, livestream their activities, blog, comment, and watch films. Of course Facebook and Youtube are blocked here – yet still accessible through VPN and proxy servers – but China has QQ and WeChat, Sina Weibo, Taobao, Baidu, Youku, and many other websites instead.

Last but not least is of course food. I, and the Chinese, love to eat. Which comes as no surprise, because Chinese food is just extremely delicious, and offers a lot of variety. In only a short time I’ve had a barbecue with my friends at least three times, hot pot at least once a fortnight, and random other food outings with others at least once a week. While food at restaurants is usually quite good, it’s even better to be invited at some family home. These Chinese aunties really know how to cook up some treats!

This account of leisure time activities is of course not exhaustive, as there are many other things that can be done here, and that I do here. I will surely write about others in the future, but for now this shall suffice.


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Settling: City

China, also known as the People’s Republic of China, consists of 31 provincial-level devisions, among them the province of Shaanxi. While Shaanxi is commonly regarded as a Northwestern province, it is located more or less exactly in China’s center. And if I had to name China’s most central city, I would name Hanzhong 汉中, which translates to “middle of the Han River”.

Hanzhong has been my home for a bit over two months now, and I very much enjoy living here, as the quality of life is high, the air, compared to many other Chinese cities, very clean, the city very green, and the food great! Hanzhong is located in a basin, surrounded on all sides by mountain ranges: the Daba Mountains in the south, and the Qin Mountains in the north. The Han River and several tributaries flow through Hanzhong, which offer splendid opportunities for walks and bike rides along the river banks.

To be exact, Hanzhong is a prefecture-level city, which is further divided into ten counties and one district. As I live south of the Han River, I live in Nanzheng County, and the more densely populated urban area north of the river is called Hantai District. Wherever you look, Hanzhong is rapidly modernizing, and high rise apartment buildings are shooting from the ground like the mushrooms in Sylvia Plath’s poetic forest floor. Some older living quarters can still be found throughout the city, but I am sure they, too, will soon be flattened to make space for modern apartments.

At the moment Hanzhong can be reached by long-distance buses, slow trains, and a few air links. Traveling to Shaanxi’s provincial capital, Xi’an, currently takes around four hours by bus – a very scenic route as long as one is in the basin; once one reaches the mountains one tunnel follows the next. I have, however, heard talk about a high-speed rail connection, said to commence operations in autumn, which will connect Hanzhong with the rest of the country.

To get from one part of the city to another countless city buses operate all day – though I must say that 8:30 pm is really not a good time to finish operations. If one is not inclined to walk after the buses retire for the night, there are countless taxis as well. I am independent from these forms of transportation, as I have my own bicycle, and Hantai District is small enough to be crossed on two wheels. Living south of the river, I am close to the countryside, and can easily go for rides out into the green valleys and hills.

Hanzhong has a long history, dating back to times before 220 BC. During the time of the Three Kingdoms (220-280 AD) Hanzhong was an important location for military strategy, and the Han Dynasty is named after the area. Despite the many years of settlement in the Hanzhong Basin, not many ancient structures, with a few exceptions, remain.

Hantai District satisfies shoppers’ every need with one shopping mall adjoining the next. My heart is made happy by the countless cafes that can be found throughout the city, and I often sit in one to do research for this blog and write new posts. Wherever you look restaurants, ranging from little hole in the walls to five star hotel food temples, can be found, which offer all the local delicacies, as well as international foods. Trees line next to every street here, and several well-kept parks can be found as well. Overall it is very clean here, and public and private places seem generally well maintained.

At the moment I could not imagine a better place to live in! Hanzhong is big enough to host all necessary facilities, and small enough to not be too crowded. Having lived in the mega-city of Cairo for the last four years, Hanzhong’s small town life is quite a welcome change.

After last week’s post on my job, and today’s on my city, I will write about the locals’ and my leisure time activities next week.


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Settling: Job

I can’t believe I’ve been in Hanzhong for 60 days already. Time flies quickly indeed!

That’s 60 days of new adventures, new friends, new opportunities.

And 60 days without my husband, Rora.

15 more days, and he’ll be here, too.

What follows is the first of three parts on settling in, regarding my job. The next weeks I will focus on my city, Hanzhong, and leisure time activities respectively.

Job

I teach oral English in a private primary school and kindergarten to students aged 4-6 and 9-12. As my previous teaching experience was always with those over the age of 12, I wanted to work with that age group again. As the other foreign teacher arrived at the school before I did, however, he was able to choose the grades he wanted to teach, and I was assigned the others. Or, as our foreign affairs officer (FAO), Lou, put it: “This way you can gain experience in a new field.”

I must admit, I really enjoy teaching my grades 4, 5, and 6 now. The students are generally well behaved, and their Chinese English teachers help to maintain order and discipline – at least most of the time. In primary school I teach 23 classes, and see all of them once a week for 30-45 minutes, and in kindergarten I teach 8 classes, 4 each week, for 25 minutes each. I don’t particularly want to teach kindergarten students, and I have expressed my dismay to the school, but somebody has to do it. Don’t get me wrong, the kids are cute and funny, but it’s just not my thing – I don’t show that in class, though.

The average school day of primary school students at my school looks something like this: they get up at 6:50 am, have breakfast, then attend “morning class”, during which they do some reading practice or review, from 7:30 to 8 am.  Regular lessons begin at 8:10 am and end at 11:45 pm; during this time they have four lessons and ample breaks in between that are filled with snacks (usually some fruit and buns) and physical exercises. This is followed by a 2.5 hour lunch and nap break, and afternoon classes are between 2:35 pm and 5:45 pm – four lessons with breaks in between. The students then have a dinner break from 5:45 pm until 7:20 pm and “evening class” from 7:20 pm to 8:20 pm for grades 1-4, and to 8:55 pm for grades 5 and 6. Bedtime is, I believe, at 10 pm. They have class from Monday to Friday, as well as Sunday afternoon.

My school, reportedly the top school in the area, is also a boarding school. Most students sleep here, and only see their families on weekends, others live in nearby apartments with their parents, grandparents, and sibling. No, the singular form of sibling is not a spelling mistake. After the one-child-policy was amended to be a two-child-policy, many Chinese families have opted for a second child. Many of my students’ siblings, however, were born before the policy was changed; in other words, they have rich parents who could afford the penalties that had to be paid in order to be allowed to have a second child.

The kids have lessons in English, Math, Chinese, Science, Art, Music, Computer, PE, and an optional class (cooking, cross-stitching, rope-skipping, etc.). And they have my oral English class. There is no curriculum for this kind of class, and my school does not provide a course book or material, so it is up to me what we do in class. We play English games, sing songs, the kids have to practice pronunciation, sometimes we watch a short movie and discuss it, or they have to work on tasks in groups and present their results to the class. There is no homework or test in my class, which means there is less stress in my class, too.

Each primary school class consists of up to 45 students, and in kindergarten there are up to 25 children in one class. Add all the numbers and you will realize that I teach up to 1000 students each week. I assume there are over 5000 students enrolled in my school.

Please note that this is not representative of all primary schools in China. In most primary schools the schooldays are much shorter, and the workload lower. As a top school, however, my school has the aim of putting as many graduates into the best universities in China and abroad as possible. There even is a “wall of fame” along the high school building, giving information on previous students who managed to get into such prestigious universities as Beijing or Tsinghua University.

Speaking of the school: while the kindergarten and nursery are each housed in separate buildings outside the school campus, the primary, middle, and high school all share the same campus, albeit all have their own buildings. There are, furthermore, the following things on campus: a huge canteen with several floors where students and employees can have breakfast, lunch, and dinner; a fine-art/music building, the administration building, a large hall, the students’ and teachers’ dormitories and teachers’ apartments, a huge basketball court, a football field with racetrack, and lots and lots and lots of trees and other plants everywhere.

I work approximately 20 hours per week, and while I do have quite a full schedule, I do not have any required office hours. My lessons take place between 8am and 4pm, and I have a lot of free time every day, which I spend reading, writing, riding my bike, watching TV shows, and surfing online. Lesson planning is minimal, as I usually teach the same lesson in all my primary classes – I simply adjust them based on the class’s English level. In kindergarten I can use one lesson plan for two weeks. I love this job, as it makes me and my students happy, isn’t too stressful, and provides me with enough money and time to enjoy life. Summer and winter vacation add up to 3 or 4 months, and almost every month there is some national holiday or other, which means additional days off throughout the school year.

There are many critics of foreign oral English teachers. The most common argument is that the teachers are not qualified. While this is often unfortunately true, the Chinese government is making it more difficult for unqualified people to obtain a working permit. I can, with pride, say of myself to be fully qualified to be an English teacher in China: not only do I hold a degree in English from a British university, but, besides many years of teaching experience, also have a teaching diploma, and thus the necessary background in education.

Another reason oral English teachers are belittled by many is that they are an example of what is often called a “white monkey job”. Many Chinese companies will hire foreign staff, preferably white Westerners, and use their foreign faces as a means of advertisement to make their product more attractive to buyers – kind of like the exploitation of circus or beggars’ animals. They claim superiority of their services, and thus justify charging higher fees. It’s a win-win situation for both employers and employees: the company makes more money, and the employee gets a high salary and many benefits (free housing, free food, travel bonus) for a stress-free job, while his or her only merit might often be nothing more than the color of his or her skin, the passport he or she is holding, or the native language he or she might speak.

A 30-45 minute oral English class once a week – or 25 minutes in kindergarten – might not be very efficient for such large classes, but I believe that those students, who are interested in the language, can still benefit from even such little practice. White monkey job or not, I strive to do my best and try to make my classes fun for the students. And I have some hope that I can teach my kids at least a little bit of English.