Yesterday marked my radio début, as Peter, Carolina and I all agreed to participate in an English edition of the university radio broadcast. This consisted of us sitting awkwardly at a table with two microphones and stuttering through introductions and random sentences about our homes, trying to cover up long pauses as we glanced at each other wondering what to say.
Then, to break up the silence, Peter told everyone that Carolina and I would sing the American national anthem for everyone... and thanks to the enthusiastic nodding and smiling of the assembled radio cast watching us speak, we dutifully and painfully warbled our way through the Star Spangled Banner, complete with unintentional harmony and a bat-like shriek on "land of the free".
We were quite mortified, but we convinced ourselves that it was not so bad; walking outside, there were tons of students walking around so, "probably only ten" people even tuned into the radio, we thought. It wasn't until a few minutes later, as we walked out the gates to grab a quick dinner, that we saw Mat, who applauded our singing and congratulated Peter on his deft manipulation. As it turns out, the entire fifteen minutes were broadcast on the university loudspeaker for the whole campus to hear. Despite my embarrassment, I really just pity everyone who had to listen to it.
*
In regards to the aforementioned weekly English Corner, I am going to be quite distraught when I return to the States and no one is constantly complementing me -- last night alone I was told I was beautiful more times than I had ever been told in my entire life. The message is also reinforced by frequent messages from students:
Hi Ali,I'm the girl named V, I am very happy when I talk with you,thanks for giving me such a beautiful night~Just now my roommates said that our pronunciation teacher may be Peter,if it's true,it's really a pity cause we like you more~(Oh, please just keep it a secret, hoho)Good night my friend, and have a sweet dream just like your smiles~
I of course promptly showed that message to Peter and gloated.
Oh my dear Alison we are your students,we think you are so beautiful. Can we make friends with you?
Alison!Hi!~I'm your student in class 12. When I first saw you, I said to my friend that you are so beautiful!We love you so much!I really wanna make friends with you,but my spoken English is so poor,
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
I don't know how famous people do it.
I have somehow become some kind of Ambassador for America.
Let me explain: In addition to several dinners over the past couple of weeks to introduce us to the English department head's friends in Hechuan, including policemen and karaoke bar owners, he (Mark) took five of us six foreign teachers to his hometown yesterday for meals and tours with the county leaders and school officials, even canceling lectures for Peter so he could go (Chinese men apparently love tall awkward Brits). After a harrowing hour-long journey, where I saw my life flash before my eyes multiple times, around hairpin turns and after near-collisions with dogs and small children, we arrived in a tiny town of 70,000 or so for lunch. Despite it not being yet noon, beer and baijiu (that cursèd drink of fortitude and "integrity") were freely pouring from the moment we sat down. I have to admit the food was lovely, in that none of it set my tongue on fire as Chongqing dishes are wont to do, and even the pig's tongue was fine until the texture got the better of me.
All of my meals lately have consisted of mastering Chinese toasting policies. That is: there is one initial toast to welcome the guests. Following that, every single person takes turns at making it around the table and toasting everyone individually. Thus, I was toasted by the seven-or-so people at my table, and then it was my duty to stand up for each person and toast them in turn. Following that are the guessing games (à la rock, paper, scissors), where the loser has to down his or her glass. And at the very end, there is one final toast to finish off the last of the alcohol, leaving only a mess of food and empty bottles on the table.
Somewhat (read: very) buzzed, we took a tour of the town's main streets and police station; apparently, we were the first foreigners in that town, um, ever, and all the officials were convinced that our coming meant a great and glorious future of expansion and development for the town. Afterward, we headed for the middle school for a presentation and then -- it hurts to think about this -- we were led to a stage where, seated before us, was the entire 2000-plus student population, applauding and gaping and photographing us. All of a sudden, I was being handed a microphone, and told to introduce myself and say something about the American education system. The other teachers did likewise... at one point Mark tried to convince me to sing IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CROWD and I just said, WTF NO (but very slowly since apparently their English isn't very good). After Mark babbled on about how great he was and the wonderful things he has accomplished (including going to Los Angeles once for a conference that lasted maybe two days at most), the students literally rushed the stage we were seated at, asking for our autographs.
I repeat: AUTOGRAPHS.
Why? I'm not sure, but apparently being foreign in this town is akin to celebrity status. Notebooks, text books and torn lesson pages were shoved at me for fifteen minutes straight, never slowing down; a professor finally had to act as an impromptu bodyguard while another orated into the microphone cautioning patience. Towards the end, I was signing hands, arms, and even a five-kuai bill, before we were escorted back to another room where we idled about, "resting". And all the while, during the lunch, tour, and mad rush of pubescent Chinese schoolkids, the camera crew of the local TV station was capturing everything for a broadcast about it that night.
After a visit to the Big Buddha Temple nearby (大佛寺), we had to join everyone for dinner. Instead of two separate tables as there were at lunch, we were at one giant table, complete with the largest lazy Susan I have ever seen, that would rotate slowly on its own, allowing people to pluck out shrimp and cow's feet at their leisure. But given that this table was twice the size as at lunch, that meant TWICE the toasting, and TWICE the guessing games. Towards the end I was simply pretending to down my beer, but quickly refilling it before the person toasting me had a chance to realize I had only taken a sip.
So, China is turning me into an alcoholic, as I start drinking at noon now. But, a sociable one at least. Cheers.
Let me explain: In addition to several dinners over the past couple of weeks to introduce us to the English department head's friends in Hechuan, including policemen and karaoke bar owners, he (Mark) took five of us six foreign teachers to his hometown yesterday for meals and tours with the county leaders and school officials, even canceling lectures for Peter so he could go (Chinese men apparently love tall awkward Brits). After a harrowing hour-long journey, where I saw my life flash before my eyes multiple times, around hairpin turns and after near-collisions with dogs and small children, we arrived in a tiny town of 70,000 or so for lunch. Despite it not being yet noon, beer and baijiu (that cursèd drink of fortitude and "integrity") were freely pouring from the moment we sat down. I have to admit the food was lovely, in that none of it set my tongue on fire as Chongqing dishes are wont to do, and even the pig's tongue was fine until the texture got the better of me.
All of my meals lately have consisted of mastering Chinese toasting policies. That is: there is one initial toast to welcome the guests. Following that, every single person takes turns at making it around the table and toasting everyone individually. Thus, I was toasted by the seven-or-so people at my table, and then it was my duty to stand up for each person and toast them in turn. Following that are the guessing games (à la rock, paper, scissors), where the loser has to down his or her glass. And at the very end, there is one final toast to finish off the last of the alcohol, leaving only a mess of food and empty bottles on the table.
Somewhat (read: very) buzzed, we took a tour of the town's main streets and police station; apparently, we were the first foreigners in that town, um, ever, and all the officials were convinced that our coming meant a great and glorious future of expansion and development for the town. Afterward, we headed for the middle school for a presentation and then -- it hurts to think about this -- we were led to a stage where, seated before us, was the entire 2000-plus student population, applauding and gaping and photographing us. All of a sudden, I was being handed a microphone, and told to introduce myself and say something about the American education system. The other teachers did likewise... at one point Mark tried to convince me to sing IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CROWD and I just said, WTF NO (but very slowly since apparently their English isn't very good). After Mark babbled on about how great he was and the wonderful things he has accomplished (including going to Los Angeles once for a conference that lasted maybe two days at most), the students literally rushed the stage we were seated at, asking for our autographs.I repeat: AUTOGRAPHS.
Why? I'm not sure, but apparently being foreign in this town is akin to celebrity status. Notebooks, text books and torn lesson pages were shoved at me for fifteen minutes straight, never slowing down; a professor finally had to act as an impromptu bodyguard while another orated into the microphone cautioning patience. Towards the end, I was signing hands, arms, and even a five-kuai bill, before we were escorted back to another room where we idled about, "resting". And all the while, during the lunch, tour, and mad rush of pubescent Chinese schoolkids, the camera crew of the local TV station was capturing everything for a broadcast about it that night.After a visit to the Big Buddha Temple nearby (大佛寺), we had to join everyone for dinner. Instead of two separate tables as there were at lunch, we were at one giant table, complete with the largest lazy Susan I have ever seen, that would rotate slowly on its own, allowing people to pluck out shrimp and cow's feet at their leisure. But given that this table was twice the size as at lunch, that meant TWICE the toasting, and TWICE the guessing games. Towards the end I was simply pretending to down my beer, but quickly refilling it before the person toasting me had a chance to realize I had only taken a sip.
So, China is turning me into an alcoholic, as I start drinking at noon now. But, a sociable one at least. Cheers.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Welcome to Hechuan.
My internet has been on-again, off-again for the past week. Tomorrow I shall attempt to charm the Internet Man with my broken Mandarin in order to fix it, thus enabling me to connect to the world more than for one hour every two or three days.
I am almost completely settled in Hechuan, Chongqing now. The city is even smaller than I originally thought, about an hour outside of the city Chongqing; in fact, the only foreigners present are the other five foreign teachers. My apartment is distinctly Chinese, from the leaking air conditioner (thought at least we have some to combat the current sweltering heat and muggy grayness of the city) to the scalding hot water and freezing cold water, to the mud swirls we track through on the white tiles of the floor. Other than that, our living conditions are quite good -- dare I say we foreigners are even pampered compared to other apartments.
I'm living with the other American, Carolina. The other teachers consist of three UK peeps, and one Irish girl, and all but one of us is a brand-new college graduate. Evidently, then, Chongqing Normal University is not that stellar of an institution, considering they hired six foreigners with absolutely no English-teaching credentials or experience.
As I am teaching all freshman, and they are going through their mandatory army-training exercises at the moment (more about this later), my classes don't start for another week. My days have consisted then of drinking too much beer, trying to fix the internet, avoiding giving out my cell phone number to taxi drivers, and wandering about the city locating essentials such as mops, brooms, dishes, water bottles, towels... and so on.
I am almost completely settled in Hechuan, Chongqing now. The city is even smaller than I originally thought, about an hour outside of the city Chongqing; in fact, the only foreigners present are the other five foreign teachers. My apartment is distinctly Chinese, from the leaking air conditioner (thought at least we have some to combat the current sweltering heat and muggy grayness of the city) to the scalding hot water and freezing cold water, to the mud swirls we track through on the white tiles of the floor. Other than that, our living conditions are quite good -- dare I say we foreigners are even pampered compared to other apartments.
I'm living with the other American, Carolina. The other teachers consist of three UK peeps, and one Irish girl, and all but one of us is a brand-new college graduate. Evidently, then, Chongqing Normal University is not that stellar of an institution, considering they hired six foreigners with absolutely no English-teaching credentials or experience.
As I am teaching all freshman, and they are going through their mandatory army-training exercises at the moment (more about this later), my classes don't start for another week. My days have consisted then of drinking too much beer, trying to fix the internet, avoiding giving out my cell phone number to taxi drivers, and wandering about the city locating essentials such as mops, brooms, dishes, water bottles, towels... and so on.
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