No classes, but I get a lesson

I overcame the huge temptation this morning to make up an excuse and call in sick. The rain is back. It doesn't let up. It's gray. Without a clock, you can't tell if it is morning or evening. I have four classes Tuesday mornings with my junior students. I really didn't want to teach four classes this morning with my junior students.

But I didn't call in sick. I obeyed my alarm when it went off at 6:45 a.m. I took my morning coffee and hauled ass -- umbrella-less -- to the dining hall where I was met with a mob of students and had to wait 10 minutes for my bowl of noodles. By the time I got my breakfast, most people had finished eating and I had to suck down my noodles and again haul ass to the junior department building on the other side of the school campus.

When I reached the third floor, I tried the office door but it was locked. A teacher saw me and said, "The students have testing this morning, so --"

"So I don't have classes," I finished her sentence.

Of course. The foreign teacher is out of the loop. Again. This certainly isn't the first time I've been notified after the fact.

"Do I have to make up the classes?" I asked. The teacher suggested I ask Mr. Wu on the fourth floor. Up another story, I entered the office and asked, "Do I have to make up classes?"

Mr. Wu was not in the office, but two other teachers were there. I already knew the answer to my question. One teacher said, "No, you don't."

On my way out of the junior department, I ran into Mr. Duan, another English teacher.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We forgot to tell you," he said immediately when he saw me. The Chinese expression he said first was, "bu hao yisi," which literally translates into feeling embarrassed but is the Chinese way of saying, "Sorry."

So I headed back the way I came, through the rain and gray. I could have stayed in bed. I could have avoided getting wet and gross. I went through my usual thoughts of cursing the school officials for never thinking to inform me that I do or don't have class.

But halfway back to my apartment -- I'm quite wet at this point -- I had a wonderful thought: Soy hot chocolate. Yes, that is how I will enjoy the morning. Really, I shouldn't be pissed at all. I have four free hours that I thought I did not have. Yes, it would have been nice to know, say, last night. But I guess this way it's a surprise.

Living in China is the embodiment of the phrase, "Expect the unexpected." Except I never expect the unexpected. I expect plans to be carried out. I expect people to be on time. I expect things said will be true a few days from now. Usually the unexpected is bad news: You missed the train by 10 minutes and now you have to wait four hours. You have to teach classes on Saturday from now on. The bus drivers are on strike. In these moments, I always calm myself with thoughts of, "Well, it could be worse." Thankfully there are still trains running today. Thankfully I still get a weeklong vacation every month. Thankfully I can still grab a taxi.

And, thankfully, this time the unexpected was good. So this morning -- more caffeinated than I need to be -- I will take a hot shower, make my hot chocolate and soak up a good book. I would've been in my warm apartment anyways had I called in sick, but I'm glad I followed through with my plan. This way I get a reminder that nothing -- especially nothing in China -- is for certain.

AUDIO SLIDESHOW: To be a high school student in China is to be 'so lucky'

Shelly was one of the first students I met when I arrived. I was touched by her friendliness and willingness to show me around the school. Since that first meeting, Shelly and I have become close, even though she is not in any of my classes. We often see each other at the dining hall or during the activity period before dinner when I am running on the track. Shelly loves English and is eager to practice with me. Sometimes she comes to my house to ask me a grammar question or just to chat.

Last Sunday, we decided to enjoy the sun and sit outside on a school bench. It was a calm, quiet afternoon with most students out for the few hours that they didn't have to be in class. It was a perfect time for reflection. That afternoon the topic was what it means to be a high school student in China. So here is what Shelly told me, in her own words.

Sing us a song

For three days and three nights, it has been raining, sometimes a light drizzle but mostly a downpour. Everything is gray. I shuffle from my apartment to the classrooms and back. There seems no point to venture beyond campus when everything looks so dismal. I have much to do, but all I end up doing is huddling in a corner of my sofa and reading.The weather has affected many of my students too. I see more heads down on desks. In all of their eyes I notice a blankness.

But this morning I discovered a sign of life. I walked into my first period class to singing -- and the back of seventy-five students' heads. They faced the back of the classroom where one half of the blackboard there was covered in Chinese characters. No one noticed me come in. When they finished the song, they turned around and saw me with a big smile, clapping. I realized that's what the day needed -- live music.

We finished the lesson with a few minutes left during class time, so I asked the students to sing the song once more, this time with the camera rolling.

Action!

I've never seen my girls so nervous before. With the video camera in their faces, they giggled or stood frozen in place or even quivered around the lips. It probably didn't help calm their nerves that a tall, blonde American was behind the camera.

Videographer Ian Bennett visited our school campus yesterday to shoot my tenth graders for what would become an online Chinese lesson available to students around the world. The project is called OneWorld Classrooms, a cross-cultural model of educating students using the arts and the Internet.

"As our world becomes more interdependent and the problems we confront more global, it is critical that our young people gain knowledge, skills and attitudes that prepare them to enjoy the benefits and accept the responsibilities of global citizenship," according to OneWorld's mission statement.



My students were responsible for one lesson containing school-related vocabulary words. Ian filmed them speaking the words and using the words in sentences. My students also performed two skits using the words and demonstrated their calligraphy by writing the words. Despite obstacles -- trains going by, fireworks going off, working around the students' busy schedule and my students' sudden shyness -- I think the final product will be excellent.



And a note on shyness -- I am painfully, embarrassingly shy, but teaching has pushed me forcefully out of my comfort zone. In some students, I see the same hesitance to speak, the same wavering of self-confidence that I felt as a teen and in my early twenties. So I have made it a point to make my students (especially the girls) less shy. I think this experience will make them just a little more confident speaking in front of others and more confident in themselves. In class, I always tell my students, "Don't be shy, just try!" I really want for them to apply this to life as well.

Write back soon!

The semester started out with a round of applause in one class when I told them that I had received their pen pal letters. (The letters came about a month ago, but we were on break for Spring Festival). It seems their pen pals were just as excited to get my students' letters. One American student wrote, "I was happy to get your letter ☺. My day wasn’t starting out so well so it was a good cheering up.”

My students wrote their return letters today. Mostly, I instructed them to write about school life in China. It's a striking contrast to the typical American student's. First, students at my school start the day at 6:20 a.m. for outdoor morning exercise. Then they have a period of self-study before breakfast, and class starts at 8:15 a.m. The last class -- the eighth of the day -- ends at 4:50 p.m. But there's more classroom time after dinner. From 6:30 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. the students have more self-study classes, broken up by a 15-minute eye exercise break. Sometimes I am already in bed when I hear their final bell ring. Then it's the same thing all over again the next day and the next day, every day of the week. The students' only break is a few hours Sunday afternoon.

This schedule makes it hard for students to get in trouble. Nearly every minute is accounted for. Unfortunately, there is very little room for extra-curricular activities. I think Americans put much more emphasis on our sports teams and music lessons and art and drama classes. But there's simply no time for such activities for Chinese students. The American students, my students think, are living the good life over there.

One last bang

Feb. 28 marked the 15th day of the Lunar New Year and the last day of Chinese New Year festivities. From my fourth-floor apartment on campus, I could see the city's fireworks by the river. Later that night, our school had its own show on the front steps of the main classroom building. Students were in their classrooms for self-study period, and their outlines could be seen in all of the windows of the classrooms. The pretty lights and loud bangs were probably a final farewell to the good life of sleeping in, playing computer games and watching TV. For them, it's now back to being in the classroom from 8 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.