English Teacher

When I first decided to arrive to China I vowed I would never be an English Teacher. Those two words came to symbolize everything I was cliche about a Foreigner in China; virtually every foreigner I met on my travels here had done it. Most for the easy money, plying the one huge advantage they have over the locals. I met a Polish girl in Qingdao who taught English to young children at a private school. I asked her whether the kids know she is not an American, as her strong accent was clearly not of the English speaking world. She sheepishly replied that the school told the kids and their parents that she was an American..hey just look at her white face and blue eyes! Then she proceeded to ask me an English grammar point. Jesus. I wanted none of that.

A few weeks later, at a near bottom low emotional point I decided to become an English teacher, going against all my previous dogged preconception because I knew I needed to do something in China to give me a sense of purpose and routine. Drifting from city to city, friends come and go, lack of family, it was causing my brain to cave on itself. My girlfriend Parisa at the time, was growing more concerned at my mood swings and depressive episodes. I didn't know what I would do, but I knew I had to do something or spiral down. On second thought, I concluded, being a English teacher would allow me to meet many many Chinese people, and thereby understand China on a different level. I would get paid to talk, something that I'm terribly good at naturally, and it was a perfect opportunity to work on that. Moreover the money and flexibility are quite excellent by Chinese standards. It really was a no lose proposition. I left for Chengdu to have it a go.

I quickly called local schools. Most were friendly and excited over the phone. However most never called me back. Why? Perhaps because I had made it a point to tell them up front that I was an American Born Chinese, and not surprise them at the interview them with my big yellow Chinese looking face. I knew that a lot of these schools prefer Aryan, young, blond looking candidates, and I didn't want to waste my time showing up to interviews where my being Chinese was going to be a problem. One hiring manager who was eager to meet me initially until I told him my ethnicity, apologetically told me over the phone "I'm so sorry. We are only looking for 外教. （Foreign Teachers)" Go fuck yourself I thought. But underneath the resentment I understand. Pretend you are a 45 year old Chinese parent who doesn't speak any English and is shelling out $2000 for your kid. If you see the Polish blond girl in one corner, and me in the other you're going to think her white skin grants her a level of credibility that you can see.

But rationale be damned, I came all the way to China to be discriminated for being Chinese by Chinese people.

Luckily, I met some nice folks at Meten School who overlooked the color of my skin and hired me anyway as a part time teacher: $15 an hour, no training, wear a tie, see you tomorrow!

After some initial bumps, I quickly realized I had an aptitude for teaching English. My brain is always working and teaching English is a good outlet for my mind on speed. I resolved to be the best English teacher at the school to prove that a Chinese American can teach better than all the white guys at the school (btw the preponderance of white guys in China makes me believe that China is some sex playland for them, but that's a whole other post).

The students come in all ages and personalities, but are all generally respectful as teachers are given an automatic high level of respect here. I've taught 10 year old girls so sweet and innocent, that I felt truly angered that they should even be sitting in class talking about the topic of globalization. Shouldn't they be at the park or playing with their friends on a nice Summer day?! Childhoods are short in China. The machine will grind you up no matter if you are rich or poor. The only way to succeed is to study harder, to score higher they are taught. The gas pedal doesn't ease up. Ever. Mostly in my conversations, I sense a resignation and sadness amongst the young people. The more introverted thoughtful ones know what lies ahead, hope for something different, but hope is painful if cannot be realized, so they trudge along and forget about it.

My favorite student is Marayan, a 18 year old Hui (Muslim) ethnic student who is from a rich background, but despite that he rails against the Chinese government and the Sheep he calls Chinese people. One time, we were talking about Japan, a topic I often bring up to gauge my students, and he asked me a question.

"Do you know why Chinese people hate the Japanese?

I fidgeted, calculating the exact correct answer I should give as a teacher, and the reasons I knew to be the truth. "History." I answered. I wasn't lying, but I wanted to see what he wanted to say.

"No teacher. Because we need someone to hate."

I let out a huge laugh before I could stop myself. "Now, there is a student I like!" I thought to myself.


Most of my native English speaking colleagues are nice with their own reasons for being in China. There's Jacob, the 23 year old from Virginia who fell in love with a Sichuanese girl and followed her home. There's Jayden, a 20 year old Aussie, who's good looking enough to be a model in China and the heart-throb at school. There's Melo, a Botswanian woman who likes hang out at the local reggae bar on her off hours and smoke the regular spliff. Mostly we sit around the foreigner teacher office bitching as a sort of way of social bonding. "Man whoever the hell came up with 'the History of Jewelry' as a lesson topic should be forced to sit through it for all eternity."

But mostly, I hang with my Chinese coworkers who are sweet interesting people. We eat dinner, go drinking, gossip. I feel a level of closeness that I didn't in my American work life. They are my windows into young Chinese people. I am one of them but not. That pretty much sums up my life in China actually. In the middle in the Middle Kingdom.

Chengdu

I haven't posted in 5 months due to the Chinese Gov's attempt to stifle blogging, social networking of any kind due to the recent events in Western China. Finally I found a way to bypass the firewall.

What has happened since?

I got the hell out of Qingdao. That place really got my down.
I moved to Shanghai, to be with my girlfriend, stayed there lost for a month and broke up with her, not knowing what I would do next.
I came to Chengdu to find a new city, a new job, new apartment, new friends, a new life...
I work as an English Teacher at a large English school. The best part are my coworkers and meeting the ocassional brilliant and open minded Chinese student who wants to talk politics and spar. I have taken to being subversive. I bring up topics such as Japan to my students to see how far I can push their molded-by-propaganda minds.
I climbed Emeishan with my friend Thinh. No more fucking Chinese mountains again. 2 days of hiking straight up, with rain, monkeys, stairs that would never end, thin air. That said, I'm glad I did it. Now let's never do it again.
What they say about Chengdu is true - a beautiful relaxed city with even more beautiful women. They say places near rivers breed beautiful women and mountains breed handsome men. I literally live next to a river. Bodes well.
The food here is way too oily and spicy. Actually the spice I can handle. It's ubiquitous and I barely notice it's presence. The oiliness is over the top though. If only we could convert cars to run on all the chili laced crimson oil from Sichuan. Then we would solve global warming.

Ok going to eat some Kung Pao Chicken for dinner now. Seriously.