Last Friday Night

Friday morning found me at McDonald's eating sub-par fake eggs with Mark, the foreign teachers' principal.  We chatted about Chinese food (not his favorite), our backgrounds, his goals, and, of course, work.  We walked to school and all of a sudden Chinese pollution became a reality.  My throat hurt and it felt like my nose was full of dust.  I desperately wanted a mask, perhaps even an oxygen tank.  Mark assured me that this was the worst he had seen it.  After a quick tour of the 5th floor where the AP Program of the Chengdu Foreign Language(s) School is located, we walked back.  The air quality felt better on the way back.  Perhaps it's worse in the morning?  Suppose I'll figure that one out.

Mark played football in college and has a passion for baking as well as gardening his own herbs and vegetables.  Okay so my school didn't have a football team nor would I have played if they had, but the baking and farming hobbies I can relate to all too well.  He is even thinking of trying to get a small oven.  Since there are no ovens anywhere, I am confused as to what he means, but eager for him to figure this out.  He also told me about a couple groceries that specialize in foreign goods.  I suggested we do American breakfasts (not at McDonald's) with pancakes, as long as I can find some baking supplies.  Maple syrup will be missed.

I started planning some more for class once back at Gregory's but was pulled away for lunch in She-poo.  Okay that's definitely not how it's spelled, but that's what it sounds like which of course means it's a Chengdu suburb name I can remember.  What a brain I have.  And what was lunch you ask?  Dumplings.  Oh so delicious dumplings.  Leak dumplings, pork dumplings, beef dumplings, and more.  70 of them for the five of us.  Mike and Lynette took me and we met a friend of Mike's and her friend.  I must have had 20 after swearing that I was not that hungry as my stomach was still trying to purchase a plane ticket to America.  Eventually he'll learn that he really can't leave.  Hopefully soon.  Regardless, the mouth thought they out-of-this-world.  They were served with a dipping sauce that had a kick to it.  Freshly mashed garlic was a condiment to add to one's sauce.  Any place that serves garlic as a condiment is a place for me.  Lynette still thought something was missing and came back with some MSG—no joke.  A little dish full of MSG crystals.  After muttering something about hair falling out and what not, she added some to her portion of dipping sauce.

After lunch we drove through a night market...in day.  At night, night markets in China are bustling places with vendors selling food, clothes, trinkets, and more.  Oh and I suppose I should explain the word drove in the first sentence of this paragraph.  Mark owns a motorbike.  I wouldn't call it a motorcycle because it looks like a motorized scooter, but it accelerates like a bike.  Mark sat in the middle with Lynette in front and me in the back.  Surprisingly for me, we all fit fine and the bike was quite the rush.  I underestimated its speed and realized quickly that this was how I was going to die--hurtling through traffic, going through red lights, and driving on sidewalks.  But I didn't die.  Surprised? Yeah me neither.  Chinese traffic is actually not as crazy as it seems.  Everyone drives defensively, there doesn't seem to be road range, so really, there isn't anyone from New England here.  Which really does help the crazy traffic pattern.  No one wants to get into a crash so people slow down for others to switch lanes should a car suddenly stop.  It really felt even more like a dance, especially now that I've been involved.  And somehow, and this still gets me, it felt safe.  I was shocked, but still don't think I'll be buying my own scooter or bike.  Just something in my head about bikes and ERs.

So we finally arrived back at Gregory's after questing and successfully finding green prescription contact lenses for Lynette.  I wrote down some more ideas for class and then Mike and Lynette approached me with the evening plan.  First massages, then a stop at a tea shop, then dinner, then kill time while Lynette has her yoga class, then more tea shop, then head over to Emma's, the girl I met while eating eel and frog, KTV or karaoke bar.  But guys, I have my first day tomorrow.  So naturally I went.  I wasn't teaching until 3:45 but I did have to meet Sarah at 9:00.

The massage was something I promised my back everyday of farming.  For 30mins of massage, mostly concentrated on a strained shoulder, I paid 25RMB, so around 4 US dollars.  Lynette had some strange Chinese practice of vacuuming out the bad with a glass jar.  However, she opted for a more intense version that involved a bit of blood letting.  So when my masseuse told Lynette that he would recommend the glass jars, I refused not understanding Lynette's was not the typical type.  This was a Chinese massage meaning clothes are on and everyone is in the same room.  Suddenly my anxiety about my first day at school was gone and my body started feeling better.  In fact, I even had a "I'm in China" moment and was happy to hear myself say it.

So then I hoped on the bike, which I was getting better and better at mounting.  We went to a tea chop where I ordered a silly tiramisu milk shake.  Like NZ shakes, it's not a thick American milk shake.  Dinner was actually not all that good; my first disappointing Chinese dinner.  Mike had invited many of his friends, all girls of course, including two senior 3 students.  When I heard that 2 of MY students would be coming to dinner I was not too happy.  I felt this was unprofessional to hang out with them and that I was not dressed to be there teacher: brown faux-leather jacket, slim tan jeans, NZ t-shirt, and sun glasses (or wind glasses for biking).  I mentioned to Mike that I was a little irritated so we decided we wouldn't tell the students.  Which of course meant Mike made a bet of 500RMB with Snowy, one of the Senior 3 students (which is grade 12 in the US), that there would be a psychology teacher.  After she agreed to the bet, he revealed my identity.  I was again, not thrilled.  Nor was my principal when I apologized the next day after informing him of what happened (I'd rather he heard it from me first).

Lynette was headed to yoga so Mike decided he wanted to visit his old stomping grounds and Snowy and Annie, the two students thought I should come to Sunday study to meet the others.  After hearing that Mr. Wong, the Chinese principal for the Chinese teachers, would be there, I went.  Mr. Wong hugged me upon me mentioning that I was the new AP Psychology teacher.  He was happy to have a new subject, especially psychology.  Then Elvis, one of the senior 2 students who I'd met at Gregory's, whisked me away into his classroom because the girls wanted to know who I was.  I was a bit embarrassed and introduced myself.  The Chinese teacher in the room, who doesn't speak English, probably did not know why this tall, red-bearded, leather-jacket American was in his room but seemed not to mind.  I excused myself and returned to the safety of Mr. Wong's office…until he decided to parade me from room to room.  We'd walk in, the students would gasp and all look at me, and then, after Mr. Wong said psychology and we explained what psychology was, they would clap.  Then I would write my name on the board and they would struggle pronouncing my last name.  We repeated this in a couple rooms.

The senior 3 students were far too cool to clap.  There are 31 of them only, the non-AP program students are on a different campus.  The students stay in the same room all day from 7ish to 10pm with breaks for lunch and dinner.  Then, off to dorms where the electricity is shut off at 11.  On weekends, they return home but this weekend we have class because of the holiday.  I'm not sure the Chinese fully understand the word holiday; of course, nor do most Americans.  Europeans seem to have the best understanding of the word.  But in China they make up the time on holiday the weekend before and the weekend after.  Seems backwards to come back from 5 days off and work 7.

Mike and I finally left the school after giving all the students the strangest impression of me.  We grabbed Lynette from yoga and went back to the teashop before departing to Emma's KTV.  I was exhausted at this point.  The KTV was very high-end and clearly a front for older men to pay to spend some time with a waitress.  It had the potential to be fun had I not been so tired.  Bon Jovi's It's My Life did bring some energy back inside me, as did Maggie's voice.  Maggie, another student at Lynette's university, can sing.  She's got mad pipes in fact.  Belting out Beyonce and Christina and more 90s ballads that I have never heard.  Their American songs all seem to be from the 80s and 90s.  Eventually I decided it was bedtime and Emma helped me get a 3-wheel taxi, thus an electric scooter with a little box for two passengers, home.

After being convinced that I was going to die when the driver pulled into a dark alley with dimly-lit people and speaking Chinese to me, a call to Emma discovered his battery ran out and he was getting a new one.  Eventually I began to recognize the neighborhood and found myself home.  Just in time to fall asleep.

I suppose if I’m gonna survive here I need to stop fearing for my life or alternatively, stop doing things that make me fear for my life.  There’s a lot more trust in China, as there was in NZ, then there is in the states.  It’s hard to get use to.