While sitting at my desk last Friday casually checking my email before I headed off to enjoy some rice, mystery soup, and oil-laden vegetables for lunch, two of my 6th grade boys poked their heads in the door and said “May we come in?” I was startled to attention by their use of English because most students who come to the door yell something phonetically like “bo gao,” which is something akin to “may I come in,” and they are seeking permission from the other Chinese teachers, not me. This time I realized they used English because they wanted to talk to me. I motioned them in, probably with a not so pleasant look of bewilderment upon my face, and prepared myself for…well, I had no idea.
Student 1 – skinny, glasses, adorably nerdy, quiet temperament but always tries to participate in class, beats himself up when he doesn’t know the answer
Student 2 – short, shouts answers in class, always moving, always trying to help, talkative
Student 1: Hello Teacher. Are you busy on Sunday?
Me: (I could say yes because I have to tutor, but they are trying so hard I can’t say it) No, Only at 2:30.
Student 1: Would you go hike in Lian Hua park with us on Sunday?
Me: (how adorable) Sure, what time?
Student 1: (consults with student 2 in Chinese) 10:00.
Me: Ok.
Student 1: Meet us at the, the, the front…
Me: gate
Student 1: yes, gate. The school’s front gate.
Me: Ok. What are your names?
Student 1: I am Thomas.
Student 2: I am Daniel.
Me: Ok, see you at 10:00 at the school gate. (Oh, what have I gotten myself into? But they are so cute and brave to come and ask me in English to go with them. There is no way I could have turned them down. Oh well, it should be an adventure.)
They walked away with huge smiles on their faces, and all I could do was chuckle and turn to my contact teacher next to me and shrug, “I guess I have a date on Sunday.” She laughed. Of course we didn’t have long to laugh because a minute later we were interrupted again by Thomas, Daniel, and a third boy following shyly behind them.
Thomas: Miss Lori, may he come too?
Me: Sure, what’s your name?
Third boy: Smart
Me: Ok…Smart (me laughing inside at the irony of “Smart” picking a not so smart English name), I will see you Sunday.
So, Sunday rolls around and I am greeted at the gate by not three, but four boys. Thomas is carrying a little canvas sack with music notes all over it, and Daniel is carrying a backpack loaded with waters on each side. Smart, well, he’s just there, and the fourth boy seems to be a good friend of his.
Thomas: Miss Lori, have you eaten breakfast? (This kid is more considerate than most men my age.)
Me: Yes, I have (probably should have lied to make him happy).
Thomas: Oh, well we have food if you are hungry (apparently inside the music note sack and the backpack).
Me: Ok, well maybe later in the park.
It soon becomes apparent that Thomas and Daniel are the leaders. Thomas has the best English and does his best to talk to me whenever possible. Daniel’s English is not too far off, but he is too busy trying to figure out the way to go and things for us to do to talk much. Smart and unknown fourth boy with no English name are just along for the ride. Our journey to the top of the park’s hill is a mix of the four boys jabbering away in Chinese and me wondering if they are talking about me, Thomas asking me questions and then translating for the others, Daniel making comments in English but mostly getting distracted by the other boys, and me every once in a while self-consciously wondering what all the Chinese people around me must be thinking when they see this random, adult, female foreigner walking around with four Chinese boys.
We finally make it to the top of the hill in the park, push our way through the crowds, and squeeze ourselves onto a shaded bench to munch on our potato chips and candy the boys brought for our snacks while admiring the forward marching statue of Deng Xiaoping. Daniel manages to find a woman to take a picture of all five of us near the steps of the statue. (Daniel is wearing the blue shirt. Smart is wearing the white shirt. Thomas is in the orange and white striped polo, and no name fourth boy is in the
black shirt). Amazingly, she happened to be an English teacher at a very good middle school in the area, and deduced that I was a foreign teacher. I have to say that I was somewhat relieved to know that our quintuplet didn’t look so strange to her. I kept thinking how odd this situation would be in America. Students would never ask their teacher to hike with them in the park, and if they did, their parents would probably not approve of them asking; and as their teacher I probably wouldn’t think it would be a good idea to agree. There are just too many liabilities in America, but in China no one cares about liabilities. There are just too many people to worry that much.
Liability free, we then headed down the hill to the lake where we were greeted by more throngs of people, a choir singing somewhere in the crowd, and dozens of hungry coy fish being fed by the other half of the crowd not watching the singers. The boys decided feeding the fish would be fun, so they bought some overly priced crackers from a nearby stand. We fed the gluttonous fish to our hearts content, and then headed around the lake to hunt for small fish or snails to put in our empty water bottles (Daniel’s idea). I gaily followed along feeling like I should be in a Chinese version of Tom Sawyer. A few snails later, I mentioned that I needed to get back to prepare for my tutoring and Thomas dutifully rounded up the crew for the trek back to our neighborhood.
On the way back Daniel, unsurprisingly got distracted by a stand selling bubbles, which he bought, and which I thoroughly enjoyed blowing for every child that passed by us. The boys were all amazed at my bubble blowing skills especially when I taught them you could run or twirl in a circle with the mouthpiece and bubbles would come out in the dozens.
Bubbles aside, we made it back to our neighborhood relatively fast. We were almost home, when the boys insisted that they wanted to buy me a present. I refused. They insisted. So, we ended up at a little bookstore in my neighborhood. They went inside. I was forced to sit on a bench inside. Twenty minutes later they emerged with a wrapped box about the size of a coke can. They told me to wait until I got home to open it.
I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that my curiosity got the best of me, and I could not wait to get back to my apartment to open the present. What would four Chinese boys decide was an appropriate gift for their teacher? Once inside my apartment I quickly but carefully took off the wrapping paper, on which they had written their names. Under the paper was a box with hearts, and inside the box with hearts was a ceramic bear holding a heart and sitting in a chair with a heart shaped picture frame attached to the top. After my initial “what is this?” reaction, I couldn’t help but think how perfect it was. It is so Chinese in it’s combination of cuteness and tackiness. It is so teacher-ish , maybe kindergarten teacher-ish, but teacher-ish nonetheless with its bear and rocking chair. Finally it is so adorable knowing that four boys, who spent their day catching fish and snails, picked it out for me. I chuckled at the thought of the four boys standing inside the bookstore pondering the gift options and deciding on this heart-bear picture frame. What a conversation that must have been! The gift was the perfect finish to the awkward, but ultimately fun and enlightening Sunday morning.
Student 1 – skinny, glasses, adorably nerdy, quiet temperament but always tries to participate in class, beats himself up when he doesn’t know the answer
Student 2 – short, shouts answers in class, always moving, always trying to help, talkative
Student 1: Hello Teacher. Are you busy on Sunday?
Me: (I could say yes because I have to tutor, but they are trying so hard I can’t say it) No, Only at 2:30.
Student 1: Would you go hike in Lian Hua park with us on Sunday?
Me: (how adorable) Sure, what time?
Student 1: (consults with student 2 in Chinese) 10:00.
Me: Ok.
Student 1: Meet us at the, the, the front…
Me: gate
Student 1: yes, gate. The school’s front gate.
Me: Ok. What are your names?
Student 1: I am Thomas.
Student 2: I am Daniel.
Me: Ok, see you at 10:00 at the school gate. (Oh, what have I gotten myself into? But they are so cute and brave to come and ask me in English to go with them. There is no way I could have turned them down. Oh well, it should be an adventure.)
They walked away with huge smiles on their faces, and all I could do was chuckle and turn to my contact teacher next to me and shrug, “I guess I have a date on Sunday.” She laughed. Of course we didn’t have long to laugh because a minute later we were interrupted again by Thomas, Daniel, and a third boy following shyly behind them.
Thomas: Miss Lori, may he come too?
Me: Sure, what’s your name?
Third boy: Smart
Me: Ok…Smart (me laughing inside at the irony of “Smart” picking a not so smart English name), I will see you Sunday.
So, Sunday rolls around and I am greeted at the gate by not three, but four boys. Thomas is carrying a little canvas sack with music notes all over it, and Daniel is carrying a backpack loaded with waters on each side. Smart, well, he’s just there, and the fourth boy seems to be a good friend of his.
Thomas: Miss Lori, have you eaten breakfast? (This kid is more considerate than most men my age.)
Me: Yes, I have (probably should have lied to make him happy).
Thomas: Oh, well we have food if you are hungry (apparently inside the music note sack and the backpack).
Me: Ok, well maybe later in the park.
It soon becomes apparent that Thomas and Daniel are the leaders. Thomas has the best English and does his best to talk to me whenever possible. Daniel’s English is not too far off, but he is too busy trying to figure out the way to go and things for us to do to talk much. Smart and unknown fourth boy with no English name are just along for the ride. Our journey to the top of the park’s hill is a mix of the four boys jabbering away in Chinese and me wondering if they are talking about me, Thomas asking me questions and then translating for the others, Daniel making comments in English but mostly getting distracted by the other boys, and me every once in a while self-consciously wondering what all the Chinese people around me must be thinking when they see this random, adult, female foreigner walking around with four Chinese boys.
We finally make it to the top of the hill in the park, push our way through the crowds, and squeeze ourselves onto a shaded bench to munch on our potato chips and candy the boys brought for our snacks while admiring the forward marching statue of Deng Xiaoping. Daniel manages to find a woman to take a picture of all five of us near the steps of the statue. (Daniel is wearing the blue shirt. Smart is wearing the white shirt. Thomas is in the orange and white striped polo, and no name fourth boy is in the
black shirt). Amazingly, she happened to be an English teacher at a very good middle school in the area, and deduced that I was a foreign teacher. I have to say that I was somewhat relieved to know that our quintuplet didn’t look so strange to her. I kept thinking how odd this situation would be in America. Students would never ask their teacher to hike with them in the park, and if they did, their parents would probably not approve of them asking; and as their teacher I probably wouldn’t think it would be a good idea to agree. There are just too many liabilities in America, but in China no one cares about liabilities. There are just too many people to worry that much.Liability free, we then headed down the hill to the lake where we were greeted by more throngs of people, a choir singing somewhere in the crowd, and dozens of hungry coy fish being fed by the other half of the crowd not watching the singers. The boys decided feeding the fish would be fun, so they bought some overly priced crackers from a nearby stand. We fed the gluttonous fish to our hearts content, and then headed around the lake to hunt for small fish or snails to put in our empty water bottles (Daniel’s idea). I gaily followed along feeling like I should be in a Chinese version of Tom Sawyer. A few snails later, I mentioned that I needed to get back to prepare for my tutoring and Thomas dutifully rounded up the crew for the trek back to our neighborhood.
On the way back Daniel, unsurprisingly got distracted by a stand selling bubbles, which he bought, and which I thoroughly enjoyed blowing for every child that passed by us. The boys were all amazed at my bubble blowing skills especially when I taught them you could run or twirl in a circle with the mouthpiece and bubbles would come out in the dozens.
Bubbles aside, we made it back to our neighborhood relatively fast. We were almost home, when the boys insisted that they wanted to buy me a present. I refused. They insisted. So, we ended up at a little bookstore in my neighborhood. They went inside. I was forced to sit on a bench inside. Twenty minutes later they emerged with a wrapped box about the size of a coke can. They told me to wait until I got home to open it.
I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that my curiosity got the best of me, and I could not wait to get back to my apartment to open the present. What would four Chinese boys decide was an appropriate gift for their teacher? Once inside my apartment I quickly but carefully took off the wrapping paper, on which they had written their names. Under the paper was a box with hearts, and inside the box with hearts was a ceramic bear holding a heart and sitting in a chair with a heart shaped picture frame attached to the top. After my initial “what is this?” reaction, I couldn’t help but think how perfect it was. It is so Chinese in it’s combination of cuteness and tackiness. It is so teacher-ish , maybe kindergarten teacher-ish, but teacher-ish nonetheless with its bear and rocking chair. Finally it is so adorable knowing that four boys, who spent their day catching fish and snails, picked it out for me. I chuckled at the thought of the four boys standing inside the bookstore pondering the gift options and deciding on this heart-bear picture frame. What a conversation that must have been! The gift was the perfect finish to the awkward, but ultimately fun and enlightening Sunday morning.
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