Fuddland
Recently I’ve been lucky enough to befriend a local primary school teacher, and yesterday she invited a group of foreigners to visit her school, to get a flavour of what a proper Chinese class is like.
Eighty-four students crammed into one room, with myself and others making things an extra tight squeeze, but the class was amazingly well-behaved [perhaps something to do with wanting to show off for the visitors]. The children spoke when spoken to and generally did as they were told; when one gave a particularly good answer, the rest of the class applauded her efforts.
On the whole, things were as I expected them to be — large classes, well-behaved students — until one surreal moment when music suddenly started playing over the loudspeaker on the wall. The students put down their books and pens and proceeded to give themselves an eye massage, whilst I looked on rather bewildered, wondering if I should join in or just watch. [Alan managed to capture this moment perfectly.]
After a short playtime, the students had their exercise class. Not just the eighty-four in the class I’d just watched — half the school at once. We were given prime viewing position on a balcony, and looked on in awe as eight hundred children took part in a massive aerobics class, led by one student at the front and a teacher shouting encouragement [or instructions, I couldn’t tell] over the public address system.
The class ended with a brisk march around the playground, and you couldn’t help but think of the words “militaristic” and “regimented”.
Once the headmaster had gotten wind of our visit, he swooped in with his English teachers in tow, keen to get them to talk to some genuine English speakers for once. There was one awkward moment [actually all the moments were awkward — forced conversation around a large table, being photographed and video-taped by one of the other teachers, does not a free-flowing chat make] when, after learning that we represented England, Scotland and Australia, we were asked to explain what Thanksgiving is. After this, our throng now triple its previous size, we were shown [nay, paraded] around a couple of other classrooms, to give the students a chance to practise their limited English. It was very much like being an exhibit or curiosity, but I have to admit that a little part of me likes all the attention.
Still, on the plus side, the headmaster gave our friend the afternoon off and some funds to treat us all to lunch at a hot-pot restaurant. Once again, the benefits of being a foreigner in this city became apparent when the restaurant owner told us that all the beer was on the house. I’m really starting to like this place.
Comments
Thanatos | 2006 / 04 / 25 – 12:20
That’s the secret, my friend - lots of Chinese friends do a happy stay and a belly full make.
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