Travel | auradis

Teaching: Day One 7.1.10 [Day]

July 3, 2010 § 1 Comment

These posts might be a bit delayed because the bad internet connection doesn’t let me format them properly, but they’re written according to the dates in the titles…so use those as reference. AND I WANT TO INCLUDE PHOTOS IN THESE POSTS BUT FOR SOME REASON THE FREAKING UPLOADER WON’T WORK CORRECTLY FML. So you’ll have to do without for now.

I woke up at 6AM to start repacking my belongings. We left [with all my luggage] an hour later in the church van and headed toward the factory, half an hour away. Despite having only gotten a little more than four hours of sleep, I sat wide awake in the passenger seat to observe the city of Yiwu as we drove down the spacious and well-paved roads.

This place isn’t exactly poor, as I could tell from the better-than-crappy apartment buildings, but like mother told me, it looks like the 农村 [I suppose “countryside” would be the closest translation, but in actuality it’s less romantic and closer to “undeveloped area”]. People walk across five lanes of nonexistent traffic as comfortably as you might stroll down your driveway.

Once we got nearer to the factory, though, the buildings became shabbier. Rusty tractors occasionally came down the road, the traffic lights didn’t even bother turning on and people moved around as if they just…didn’t care.

We are inexplicably* stationed inside this factory compound, where most of the residents are workers, and we use a classroom and some dorm rooms. I’ve gathered that the students usually come live here for five days while taking classes, then go back to the church building on the weekends. This means that I will have to pack and haul ALL of my crap across town twice a week.

I stood before my class of 16 and introduced myself, mostly in English at the behest of Hannah, and took them through the lesson book. We played a couple rounds of Telephone [to practice their listening and speaking but mostly because I miss playing that game], answered some personal questions, and thus three hours passed more or less smoothly. Praise God…but boy was my voice tired from talking so much.

For lunch, the students bring their own tableware and swipe for servings of the same mass-made food as the factory workers, which they then eat in a large dining area that is basically four slabs of concrete. Teachers and managers, however, get the privilege of eating out of actual dishes in a partitioned room off to the side, so my little vision of happily bonding with my students over lunch in a modern cafeteria is totally moot.

I’d like to add here that after a semester of dining out every day and eating mainly meat, having mostly vegetables at every meal is rather refreshing. On the other hand, I never get to choose. Nor do I get dessert. This situation might turn dire.

Lunch break is from 11:30-2PM, during which I took a much-needed nap. The subsequent two hours were spent having more lessons and musical dictations, during which I played Hillsong’s “All For Love” from my laptop and had them fill in some of the lyrics, which they all seemed to enjoy, this being a Christian program and all. Mark, the class captain [president? leader?], then helped me set up the Ethernet connection, which is adequate but just as undependable as the wifi at the church. Like yesterday, I spent most of the day in my room, glued to my laptop.

*I’m told we spend our weekdays here because it’s safer; over by the church, police tend to poke around, and we don’t want them getting in our business.

This New Chapter

June 30, 2010 § 7 Comments

When I got a forward from my youth pastor about a summer volunteer/missionary program in China a few months ago, I skimmed over it without much thought. After being laid off and suffering the stress of eventually being kicked out of the student dorms, I started to consider the position more seriously, and decided to take it up as something useful to do with my life, a stark contrast to the sheer idleness of June.

I was accepted without much ado, and as my date of departure crawled closer, I tried not to think about how I was going to a strange place by myself where the strangers I was meeting might or might not kidnap me for ransom [stories fed to me by my cousin…]. The night before leaving, I slept for two hours because I was so busy packing and doing laundry and stressing about how I would stuff a whole semester’s worth of living into my suitcase.

The trip to Shenzhen airport went smoothly, as I had already taken that bus before. In line for customs, I stood in front of three middle-aged Chinese people who were speaking an unfamiliar dialect. The man kept inching in front of me as they were conversing, and even motioned for the two women to join him once he placed himself entirely in front of me. They didn’t move, and eventually he retreated behind me, letting me back in front of him with a gesture that made it seem like he was going me a favor. He didn’t even notice his rude behavior?

On the flight, I had the misfortune of sitting next to an asshole: He had the aisle seat, and his beady eyes looked up at me coldly when I motioned to the window seat and said, “Excuse me” in English. Shoot, I thought, and switched to Chinese, which doesn’t come naturally on two hours of sleep. “I’m sitting on the inside,” I mustered eventually. “So what?” he replied obnoxiously. My brain didn’t register his hostility in time to formulate anything other than a muttered “Well, could you stand up…” Thankfully, he roused his fat self from the seat wordlessly. The guy who sat between us didn’t even bother with an exchange and simply climbed over him, which I was definitely not willing to do. The mean one also stood up immediately when the plane landed and wouldn’t sit even when the flight attendants told him to. Seriously…what’s the rush?

The Yiwu airport is tiny; I saw no other planes when we landed, and there are a total of two baggage claim belts. Makes me miss O’hare. According to Wikipedia [which is blocked in China], Yiwu is “famous for its small commodity trade and vibrant free markets and is a regional tourist destination.” I’m not sure who edited the Wiki page because it also says “Yiwu’s early culture has given birth to many great figures in the fields of literature, art military, education, and engineering. Among these were … Wang Lee Hom, a very famous singer.” Not sure what that’s supposed to mean, since he’s Taiwanese-American… Another tidbit: “Yiwu is also known as the “sock town” as it produces over three billion pairs of socks for Wal-Mart, Pringles and Disney annually.” [That’s good news; I need some new socks.]

Mark, a polite young man with a goatie, picked me up from the airport with the church van and brought me back to the church building 15 minutes away. We climbed five [exhausting] flights of stairs up to my room, which was spacious and furnished with two queen-size beds and a private bathroom.

The bathroom is disguised as a closet

I'm glad I brought my Rilakkuma bear (on the bed)

Nothing much to see outside

He also took me across the hall to meet Hannah, the coordinator [and apparently the only English speaker on the premises]. She tried to acquaint me with the situation — the students are mostly 20 to 30-year-olds studying mythology or theology at the local seminary. Hannah introduced me to a few of them at dinner, which takes place 3-4 hours earlier than I’ve become accustomed to eating in HK. They all refer to me as 老师 [teacher], which is off-putting because I’m younger than most of them.

From what I understand, the students take classes five days a week at another location; like, we actually have to move there for those five days, then come back on the weekends [wtf]. There was supposed to be a family coming to teach them English as well, but the mother fell ill in another city, so I will have to be teaching for an indeterminate number of days on my own for 5-6 hours a day. Lord help me…

In my recent memory, I’ve never taught English before, unless having a conversation partner counts; frankly, that kind of situation is more of what I was imagining this position to be, not having to stand at the front of a classroom for hours a day. I’m really not more qualified than these students in any way except for the fact that I’ve grown up speaking English, a skill I didn’t ask for that they all crave. I have the burden freedom of creating my own curriculum, and from the looks of their textbook, most of the students are still at level one. I’m straining to remember how I first learned French all those years ago…

The optimistic side of me wants to do my best to serve these people who are feeding and housing me. Three weeks can pass by very quickly if the past month is any hint. But I’m scared! And nervous! And I hate talking! Especially in front of groups! And I hate being the center of attention! And Youtube videos load really really really slowly on this wifi connection! Please pray for me and my spiritual well-being as I google ways to teach effectively :X

They’re Everywhere

June 10, 2010 § 4 Comments

After a long & bountiful day of shopping, Kaiti and I settled onto a relatively empty subway train to go home. Soon after we got on, a mentally deranged Indian man listening to his mp3 player sat down one seat away from me and crossed his legs. I actually didn’t notice him until his toe touched my foot — the man had rather long limbs. I moved my foot away slightly, thinking it was an accident.

His foot moved closer and touched mine again.
My brain numbed.
“THIS MAN IS TRYING TO PLAY FOOTSIE WITH ME ON THE SUBWAY,” I whispered urgently to Kaiti out of the side of my mouth.

I turned so that he couldn’t reach my feet anymore and glanced at our reflections in the window on the opposite side. He was staring in our direction. He then stretched his arm across the back of the seat so that his fingers brushed my shoulders.

I almost died.
Kaiti almost died too…of laughter.
She was convulsing with silent guffaws with her head turned away so that he couldn’t see, while I concentrated on not making any movements at all. But I cringed inside like a slug on a patch of salt.

DON’T LOOK AT HIM. JUST DON’T LOOK.

His arm retracted, but I could tell that he was still staring hard at us. I turned my head abruptly to glare at him, and he immediately looked away. I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind but couldn’t think of what to say. I turned back to stare out the dark window.

He started making noises to himself.
“Darling!” he yelled, among some other incomprehensible gibberish.
What the f…was he talking to us?

As I watched his reflection in the window, I also kept scanning the four young men sitting across from us. They apparently took no notice of the strange occurrences on this side of the train. If something dire happened, would they react?

The creep’s mp3 player got louder, and I could hear “Jai Ho” playing. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his fingers fiddling around in his lap, and I was honestly afraid that he would pull his wiener out and commit an act of public indecency. At the same time, Kaiti speculated that he would pull out a knife. I’m not sure which prospect would be more frightening, frankly.

Just as I was about to explode with tension, he got up and left [FINALLY]. After the subway doors closed, Kaiti and I collapsed into a squirming, squealing blob of indignation.
WHY DO THESE THINGS HAPPEN?! WHY!!!

Oh My Lobe

June 4, 2010 § 2 Comments

Ever since becoming a fan of SHINee, I’ve started liking stud earrings more than dangling ones [they wear them a lot]. Ever since coming to Hong Kong, I’ve started wearing stud earrings more than other kinds because the variety here is fantastic. And ever since I decided I wanted a third earlobe piercing, I’ve been buying stud earrings almost obsessively.

I literally could not stop looking at the things while shopping today with Rosaline. We went all the way out to the mall in Kwai Fong where she got her ears pierced two weeks ago; I wanted my new piercing as soon as possible. When Ros got her virgin ears done, she opted for needle instead of gun, which is rare and seems kind of outdated but apparently is healthier. Alice told me some horror stories of blood clots and infections, but I decided to go with gun because Ros said needle hurt like hell [it was also more expensive & took longer].

We found the little tattoo & piercing parlor, which had big photos of strange body piercings on the exterior. Gulp … not a good first impression. I chose a little star stud, which cost all of $15HK [literally $2 US o___o]. While we waited for the lady to get ready [and finish her cigarette?], I peeked at the other side of the case and saw that none the ends of the studs were sharpened.

“How is that supposed to go through my ear?” I wondered.
“Maybe she’ll sharpen it?” Ros postulated.

Wrong.
[This seems to happen quite frequently.]

I sat down in the narrow space of the shop, and the process was over in less than two minutes. The gun snapped, shoving the rounded end of the stud into my earlobe. [WHY???]
This was definitely not the safe experience I had with my mom eight years ago in the brightly lit space of Limited Too, where my ears were pierced with needle-sharp studs and I might’ve gotten a lollipop afterward.

I winced with pain and blinked my eyes with shock for a few moments afterward. It didn’t just sting, as I had expected — it hurt. I felt my ear getting red and tried not to think about it. Being in a shopping center distracted me adequately, but I still needed to buy a watermelon boba to calm myself down and ice my flushed earlobe.

It’s over, but I still cringe a little every time I think about my poor ear being impaled with blunt metal. I don’t regret it, but I wouldn’t recommend it either. I also wonder if this has ever happened to anyone else I know :(