My Life as A Substitute English Teacher

As some of you may know, I decided this past semester to focus on studying Mandarin thereby cutting my teaching hours down to afternoons when my company needs a substitute. My company, BSK, *shudder*, has about 50 teachers spread out in public schools throughout Shanghai, and at least 3 or 4 times a week I’m called in to sub somewhere. The beauty of the situation lies pretty much in the fact that I never see the same kids twice, thus eliminating any need to make any sort of preparations or plans ahead of time. I have my staple of games, activities, and sing-a-long songs that I rotate through, but mostly it’s all about me.

For the first half of the class or so, I divide the class into teams, and tell them they can ask me any question they’d like. Chinese students will do anything if there is competition involved, and if I mention the word “stickers” or “prizes” I open myself up to the possibility that kids will literally pee their pants in excitement. The first question is invariably, “What’s your name?” to which I reply, “Chinese name or English name?” They perk up a bit, and I write my Chinese name in characters on the board. The students are not used to their English teachers knowing any Chinese whatsoever, so simply writing my name, 龙海, generally elicits fits of applause. I take a bow, and have them eating out of my hand in the first five minutes of class. This usually makes the next 30 minutes much less painful. Usually.

Then, depending on the grade, we move on to other activities. If it is a fourth or fifth grade class I usually put a writing prompt on the board. This gives me a bit of quiet time while they write, and then another 15 or 20 minutes of class used up by having the kids present what they wrote up front, all for points of course. My standard prompts are, “If I had all the money in the world, I would…” and “If I had no money at all, I could still…” It’s fun to see how creative the kids are, but usually its mostly the same, “I would buy the school” “Help the poor” “Buy many delicious KFC!” Yes, if I had unlimited funds, you’d find me whiling away my time eating a bucket of wings, too. The no money responses lean towards, “Still happy everyday” “Eat from rubbish bin” “Sleep all day.” But every now and then I get a class with a weird dynamic to it. Last week it centered around one boy Norman, who was absent that day. The first boy stood up and said, “If I had all the money in the world, I would buy AK-47, kill Norman.” Everyone is laughing, and I glance nervously at the Chinese teaching assistant who is also laughing heartily. I suppose in China this is indeed a fanciful and far-fetched idea, so a zero-tolerance policy is not needed. Moving on. The next girl says, “If I had no money at all, I could still make Norman go to girl’s toilet.” I find this kind of funny, and true, so she gets two point. I tell the class to please refrain from any more Norman jokes, but no one listens, and the next boy stands up and is sending Norman to Mars with all his money. One by one they diss on him, and eventually they have me hating Norman as well, and we find the rest of class has sped by. Teaching is fun.

For younger kids, I tend to play the “Opposites Game,” which isn’t really a game at all, I just award points and they get confused. All I do is say and write a word on the board, and the first person to tell me the opposite gets a point. Pretty simple, until afterwards I give two points for making a sentence using both words. This usually leads to some entertaining responses. The first kid will invariably say, “I am thin, but [insert token chubby kid's name here {usually Tony}] is fat!” The kids are laughing, and no one seems to take offense. Next, someone will usually follow up, “I eat healthy food like rice, but Tony eat unhealthy food like McDonalds and KFC.” Tony is laughing too, so I just let things continue because a substitute teacher means a goofing off fun day, right?

Then if I have a few minutes to spare, we’ll play another simple game where I put a long word up on the board like “Chocolate,” and see how many other words kids can find using those letters. I used to classify this as only mildly entertaining as the students rarely are able to see beyond “tea,” but every now and then I get a surprise. Like last week when one fourth-grader found “anal” in “California,” and I found myself conflicted between scolding him and awarding bonus points.

Teaching is funny.

Xiao Zhao, AKA Jerry

It has come to my attention that I have posted very little information on here about my host sister, Jerry.

I’ll start out by mentioning that I came to live with the Chinese host family on the pretense of teaching her more English, and giving her and the family a chance to interact with a real-life foreigner. Too bad for her, this meant giving up her room to said foreigner.

I guess this is just a sacrifice the whole family is willing to make though, as anyone with above average English in China is destined to a much better than average job (read: not making Nikes for 12 hours a day).

So in I moved into her little room with a bunk bed, Mickey Mouse (I smell an IPR infringement) mattress, giant pencil-shaped coat rack, and just-noticed-yesterday light pink walls. There’s also a moon shaped night light, and a generally 70’s orange theme. Needless to say I love it.

Since the apartment is only two bedrooms, that means she currently sleeps in her parents bed, though I think during the summertime she rolled out a little bed roll and slept on the floor. Needless to say, I feel obligated, if not guilted into providing some quality English time.

Much to my dismay, she has picked up on a few of my horrible -isms, such as saying “No Prob,” which she has further shortened to “No Pra.” Also, my tendency to answer “Pretty good” to things I frequently don’t like, in order to appear polite. Things such as “How is that marrow?” (sucked from a straw) in that pig bone and Turnip soup. “Mmm, pretty good,” I say, along with a grimace trying desperately to hold back my dissatisfaction. This has also been duly noted and copied to a tee.

Anyways, Jerry, named after the Tom and Jerry cartoon, also loves to come into her old room and look dismayed a the disorder I have created. I try to keep it somewhat clean, but sometimes it’s a lost cause. I heard one day, “My mother says all boys your age are like this.” Score, mess justified!

She also loves to come in when I’m lounging around and get my opinion on the latest stickers she has acquired. I am subjected to an endless barrage of questioning regarding whether “this fairy princess is pretty,” or “this ridiculous, bug eyed, no-nosed, white faced, poofy dress Anime character is prettier.” (my words, not hers). This provides hours of entertainment.

But all in all, her English is quite excellent. It makes me feel a bit defeated knowing that there truly are going to be a few hundred million people in no time that will speak better English than I speak Chinese. Makes getting up at 7:30 for Chinese class that much harder.

All in all though, I feel a little bit sorry for her childhood. Every day she comes home from school around 4:30, and goes straight to her spot on the kitchen table and pound out hours of homework. Some days she comes home at about 5:00 PM, because the smart kids get extra classes some days. Seems like it should be the other way around. She usually goes to bed around 10:30, only breaking for dinner. Saturdays are filled with Drawing and extra math lessons (shockingly titled “Olympic Maths”) and Sundays with Piano and English. Punctuated by more homework. There really is no social life, activities, sports practices, clubs, scouts, or anything at all.

In reality though, she has it good considering the alternatives. Being born into an upper class family, where she is able to study, go to good schools, and stay far, far away from the harsh Chinese countryside.

Maybe one day she’ll even get a bed again.

Kindly Remove Your Fatty Liver

Within the first week of arriving in this blessed nation of 1.3 billion, I was trucked off to an undisclosed location, promptly disrobed, probed, poked, and examined. Alright, so maybe it sounds better without all the mundane details, but it was still quite the surreal experience, only further enhanced by the confusion and language barriers.

Apparently, if you plan on staying in the country and working for more than six months, you must surrender to an extensive health examination to make sure you aren’t bringing in anything that China officially doesn’t have- you know like bird flu, HIV, and hepatitis.

Anyways, we took the company van out to the suburbs to a nice looking hospital which served as the infected foreigner removal center. In fact, I think it said something like that on the sign. Maybe.

First stop was the relentless forms which the Chinese love so much. Then came the red stamps, which they love even more than paperwork. And rice. Combined. Then we paid our fees, got a picture taken and were told to go to room 1 down a dark and ominous hallway. There, a diminutive lady gave me a key, a robe, and pointed in the direction of a changing room. Then comes the age-old question of how much should I really be taking off? This comes up a lot in China, especially in massage parlours (I swear I go to legit ones), so this time I decided to be safe and keep the undies on. You just never know when a brisk wind could come up.

So with papers in head, I set out down a different corridor to acquire all the red stamps I needed to be able to leave. Awkward, robe-induced conversation with people from all over the world is incited, and goes something like this:

“So, where you from?”

“Sweden.”

“Cool.”

First stop was X-ray. Seriously, I don’t know, just full body x-rays. You don’t question the Chinese government and their methods, you just don’t. Then I proceeded down the hall to the height and weight station (yay! I’m average here). I distinctively remember being in the 98th percentile in a height test in the States at some point. Next, I was hooked up to an EKG machine, moved along to the blood sample room, and ended up at the vision test.

The vision test never goes well for the Long family, at least the ones like me that inherited the Koerner side of the genes, like me. I can see fine now, thanks to the glasses that cure me from somewhere near total and utter darkness, but the color blindness gets me every time. However, this time I remembered a trick that my uncle told me last time I saw him in California. On that special visit he decided to take out his tiny, but awesome, 2 seat plane, and pick me up from my grandparents’ house outside of San Diego, and fly me back to L.A. to meet up with some friends. As we are flying back at dusk, we are approaching the runway, and Uncle Mike points out the two sets of smallish lights on either side of the runway. He explains hurriedly that they are some sort of approach warning, so that you can guide yourself in at the right level, letting you know if you are going to over or under-shoot the runway. As co-pilot, and inheritor of the color-blindness to a much lessor extent, it was my job to tell him if it was green for good job, yellow for a bit too low, or red, your ass is gonna end up in the grass. How he flies alone still mystifies me.

Anyways, he said that to get and renew his pilot license, which he has had to do several times, you must pass the color test, but that he manages to use the nurses to his advantage. After they show him the little mosaics with barely different colors, and he is expected to point out the figure 8 in red or whatever, he looks a little helpless. The nurse then prods, asking does he see the eight? After a further lingering, but not too pregnant of a pause, the nurse will invariably say, right here, this eight right here? Can’t you see it? she will dubiously ask. At which point you proclaim, oh yes of course! There it is, I saw it all along, and trace the figure eight right where she has just shown you.

So I tried that with the nurse, and this time added the little twist of pretending to not really understand the question, and I ended up with just the marginally bad “Red green color weakness” stamp on my form. But there are worse stamps. Oh, much worse.

The next stop is the ultrasound, which I frankly thought where only given to pregnant women. I got all gooed-up, and got to experience maybe just a little bit what it may feel like to be having a baby. That’s really about as close as I’m hoping to get to the whole process. After all that, I see a few of my fellow compatriots who are having a good laugh out in the hall. Apparently one of the “heavier” teachers didn’t do so well in the ultrasound room. No, he wasn’t pregnant, but should maybe reconsider his lifestyle.

Although still cleared to teach, he received the Scarlet Letter of the stamps, the creme de la creme of all possible proclamations, “Fatty Liver.”

No explanations, no prescribed course of action, no reprimand, just the stamp to let him know that his liver wishes he’d stop drinking beer and eating at McDonalds.

All it took was a quick trip to China, where they have no qualms about telling it like it is, and stamping it out for the world to see.

Back At It

Today marked the start of another semester, and gasp! back to the “grind.” I put this in quotes, because people always seem to think my “grind” seems more leisurely than theirs, but dammit, working part time is enough in my book.

Quickly, here’s whats new before I go into further detail:

-We had a much needed month long break from teaching (read: being a white clown), while the students went of holiday for Chinese New Years. A friend of mine, and fellow teacher did a Google search “cheap flights from Shanghai,” came up with the Philippines for about $100, so that’s where we went. Much more on that later.

-Then the parents came, and we had a great 2 weeks traveling through the 3 Gorges Area and seeing the Shanghai sights.

-I have a new part time gig freelance writing for a website called www.bizcult.com – Basically there are about 5 posts a day from me and the guy who started it, dealing with doing business in China, and how it is related with cultural and current affairs. It is quick, snappy writing, so even if you don’t personally have an interest in the business climate of China, you may find it interesting as well. Check it out!

-I’ll be teaching again just part time in the afternoons now, and also taking Chinese lessons every morning for about 3 hours. I have found that I must somehow subconsciously miss the structure that school provides, because I have been looking forward to this for a while now. Who knows, maybe the ARMY is next?

So that’s the basic gist of my life, not that it affects you in any way probably. Anyways, when I pulled out my old book of lesson plans this morning, I came across something that I had meant to post earlier.

On the last day of class last semester, I was told to give a written test to my 5th graders. No guidelines or anything, they just wanted me to assign some sort of letter grade to these kids who saw me I’d say on average 30 minutes every two weeks. Needless to say, I didn’t feel very vested in their actual progress, so I thought I’d at least try to entertain myself during the test.

Here are some of my favorite responses. And don’t take this as me mocking, well, belittling their abilities, because they are half my age, and speak English twice as well as I do Chinese. Really I just found them to be creative, if not downright crafty. Case in point:

Question 6) Define “reflection”

Jimmy: “‘Reflection’. This word is in our book”

Question 10) Write a few nice things about me.

Favorite responses: “Kyle Long is very handsome, he has golden hair.” Ok, shameless ego boost, but I’ll take it where I can get it.

Rudy went in a different direction with this one, and took it a little bit more literally. “Kyle Long lives in the USA. You eat breakfast everyday. You eat dinner everyday.” Cut to me bringing my red pen out for this one.

Question 9) What types of food are healthy for you? Cindy: “I like the fish. Eat the fish are comfortable. They are nice but I usually eat them.” GOD I love Chinglish.

Last Question) If you had all the money in the world, what would you do? Ralph started down on the right path, but probably should have used an eraser, as this is what he literally wrote: “I will give Kyle Long eighty fifty thirty percent. I will give my parents 40%. I will only give me 30%” Thanks Ralph, your grade is now an A, B, D.

Alright, more posts to follow shortly. Must go study for my Chinese placement exam tomorrow.

Chinese Puzzle

This probably won’t be of much interest to the people reading who actually speak some Chinese, but, you never know.

In Chinese, each individual character has its own meaning. For example,
hao=好＝good.
But, if you put the character together with another one, it usually changes the meaning altogether. Example, haoxiang= 好像＝ appears/looks like

Anyways. I’m not sure why this happens (maybe do to how ancient Chinese is?), but for some nouns where Chinese previously had no word for it, they just kind of put two words that describe it together to take on the new meaning.
Example: Hand手 + Machine机 ＝ Cellphone

Try your hand at figuring out what nouns these combos are describing: (answers at bottom).

1. Sour Milk
2. Safety Hat
3. Electric Brain
4. Beautiful Country
5. Dragon Head
6. Pulled Stomach
7. Soft Glass
8. Invisible Lenses
9. Roasting Box
10. Fire Car

1. Yogurt
2. Helmet
3. Computer
4. America!
5. Faucet
6. Diarrhea
7. Plastic
8. Contacts
9. Oven
10. Train

Ok, I’m a dork, but these are kinda interesting, no?

I guess this can make learning Chinese a bit easier, because once you learn tooth, and doctor, lo and behold you’ve got dentist. But honestly, when are you ever going to assume that people will understand that.

Anyone have suggestions for some new additions to the lexicon??

Blue Steel Called

Normally, when Chinese people come up to you on the street, it’s because there is a deep-rooted notion that all white people have money, and the Chinese people have a deep-rooted belief that they are somehow entitled to a portion of it. They may be new to capitalism, but they are quick learners. I’ve all but completely tuned out the nonsensical shouts of “Hey, you need shoes? DVD’S. I have watches.” Or, “North Face. Special price for you. Just you.” Yes, that is a special price indeed when you try to charge me 20 times what it is actually worth. Then there is the more subtle, “Where are you from?” line, which inevitably leads to the starving art student story, whereupon they lead you to a back room, give you alcohol, show you crappy reprints of ancient-looking scenes, and somehow get you drunk enough to buy them. Trust me, it only takes making that mistake once.

So it was with great skepticism that I stopped to talk to someone in the Subway station by my house when he asked if I had a moment. I’m not sure if this will go down as a momentous occasion, or the beginnings of another great scam, but there is only one way to find out. Turns out, there was a team recruiting Westerners to be represented by their modeling company. Yes, perhaps it is the rebirth of a nascent career cut short by the ravages of puberty. Regardless, I’m pretty sure the only requirement is that you be white, and somewhat young, but of course, I was intrigued.

I met up with them in their offices in the “YuCheng Mansion.” Chinese people have an odd way of calling 30 story buildings “mansions.” I have stopped questioning it. Our first meeting consisted of the man speaking virtually no English, so there was a lot of miming and hand motions. I think he got really excited when I told him that I played the piano. I’m not sure if I should be concerned about what kind of modeling/acting jobs he would be able to get me with my piano skills, but at this point I have just starting accepting that its all quite odd. I did check no to the magic abilities and Kung Fu boxes, however.

Then he took my measurements, and took 3 digital pictures of me, and told me that his boss wasn’t there right now, and that I needed to come back tomorrow. Sort of annoying, but again, nothing is as you may expect it at this point. However, I was thinking that perhaps the industry in China was just “undeveloped” enough, that these 3 pictures would suffice, and I wouldn’t need any sort of professional picture to get jobs. This is not the case. The next day, a Russian lady, and the same man were there to meet me. The Russian lady was the interpreter turns out, which apparently lends more credibility and trust to the whole operation, because she is perceived as being neutral. In short, they convinced me to immediately go to some photography studio and get a portfolio done, because they were SO confident that I will be able to land acting jobs. Because A) Chinese people LOVE foreigners. Sort of true, though I think they are more entranced by the foreign lifestyle. And B) I have a “special” smile. I hope by special they don’t mean, “he rides the short bus.”

The photography studio was also sort of a trip in itself. I got my “portfolio” done in an hour, including hair and makeup. Chinese efficiency is again at work. The wardrobe choices were totally bizarre, and I had to draw the line somewhere before the green t-shirt coupled with the leather vest with fringes and a top hat. No kidding. So that is pretty much where I stand. I took some pictures, apparently am being represented, and am now just waiting for that big break. All in the span of about 24 hours.

At this rate, my fifteen minutes of fame are probably going to feel more like fifteen seconds. If this isn’t the start of some elaborate scam. We shall see.