4: another long march...

so started my new days: at 4:30 am, i was vaguely aware of the gerbil's rustling around the room: was it sit-ups? yoga? i still don't know; i wouldn't open my eyes until it clearly became foraging. while he had rice cakes and fruit, i had my shower (while stomp-rinsing a load of sink laundry), brushed, dressed, and fled. i was usually out the door before 6am, when the streets were just coming alive.

my favorite stop was an ancient cart on an adjoining street: on a griddle plate over an iron firepot, a little guy would lay what looked like a doughy pita; with chopsticks, he would prick the top layer, peel it back, and crack an egg into the pocket. spreading the egg around inside, he would re-cover the wound and grill the bread on both sides; after a little browning, he would slide the hot plate aside, and drop the disc down into the firepot, resting it on the side for awhile, facing the flames to crisp it up. at the right moment, back on the grill, a paintbrush swipe of chili sauce, another of garlic/plum sauce, some fresh crunchy lettuce (some mornings cilantro sprigs instead) and a burrito-style roll-up into a sandwich baggie- two yuan (about 24 cents). and a big smile; other carts closer to the hotel, and later to get started, had some funny shish-kabob things, and a lady had a larger egg burrito topped with bean sprouts, but my favorite was the pita guy; next stop was the lotus pool behind the hotel. at this hour, i could do my oral drills- growl and sing out my nascent chinese utterances- with only the flowers and goldfish to suffer.





an hour or so later, this garden would start to come alive (with people eager to converse with a westerner, there was another language school in the adjacent building), and it would be time to move on, closer to my teaching venue on campus, and prepare for the morning activities on a bench by the classroom building.

put aside the heat and overdress, and put aside the grim surroundings, and put aside the friction with brook, and put aside the rudderless curriculum- classes were quite enjoyable. we had a group of eighteen kids, ages 14 thru 16: once past the grinning shyness, they were bright and clever, fun and funny.



we sort of threw out the book for my classes: instead of word drills and simon says, i had them explain stories from the local newspaper to me, and look thru the new york times for articles they wanted me to explain to them. our effort is supposed to be stirring up conversation: they get the grammar from regular english classes. i showed the class the pictures katie and liam took of their house in port chester- special emphasis on toilet, bathtub, kitchen, their bedrooms and contents, and their yard (the pool elicits shrieks every time), then had the class draw a plan and give me a verbal tour of each of their homes. it appears that the one-child policy here is losing ground: a good many of my chinese students have siblings now, judging from their home tours. and household help. and grannies living in the room next to the kitchen... most of these students were children of professors, and had paid steep tuition to rub elbows with we native speakers for three weeks, so i wasn't sure if they were truly representative of china.

first break in the march was a tuesday: we were packed onto busses and trucked to the great wall, at badaling. this was a different spot than the one mom and i had visited on our trip; we walked up on foot (a look at the available cable lift convinced even me) and rode down on a wheeled toboggan in a sheet-metal chute laid on the mountainside.





into the second session: just like the first, only chinese class mornings, teaching practice afternoons. i was living on cantaloupe and watermelon slices from street vendors thru the day (too damn hot to think of food), noodles and beer at night. the bhudda belly i arrived with (no thanks to the barbecue tour) was beginning to shrink. the frat boys (and the little sisters) had established a pretty steady circuit of neighborhood clubbing every night; i ran with the big dogs a few nights, but nothing like my prime. they were impressed that the old fart could even get off the porch...

by the end of the second teaching session, even ol' brooksie came around: dropped the kiddie crap, and came up with a jeopardy game that the kids were crazy about. one kid so reminded me of my new york friend benny lin (such a drama queen, sorry benny...). he lived up to his promise, writing and directing a "network newscast" skit that was a sinister and sarcastic howl. irony barely exists here; discovering satire was a surprise.

next one-day break between sessions was a rainy sunday: the frat boys had put on a helluva party the night before to celebrate, stacking the beds to make room for a bar in one room, dance floor in another. i slept in and skipped the en masse march thru the forbidden city. turns out the virtuous attendees were led in the back door, so they could park the bus. glad i missed it: one of the world's most spectacular spacial sequences experienced ass-backwards. i went back another late afternoon on my own for a re-visit from the front.

third session was chinese classes mornings- tefl classes afternoons. education about education- could have been packed into a quarter of the time: dragging it out didn't make it more profound. i skipped the last class and went to the summer palace- thought i'd been there before, but i was wrong. even though the brits had blown it up in the 1890's, it was reassembled for cixi and puyi and the last chapter of the emporer thing: pretty amazing...



had my chinese oral exam the last morning; we'd finished a full semester in fifteen 3-hour class days. i could (sorta) count, order beer and noodles, and say "go away", "don't have" and "don't want" a few different ways. it was time to graduate...

next: moving on...