This is what I have to deal with.

Learning to Speak Olympics

A relaxing weekend was had, and is still going on. Photos and descriptions will be posted later.

Missing the Future

And suddenly, while listening to The Black Kids and reading about someone's father's funeral, I have this weird daydream about Ravinia, which causes me to miss the summer that I won't have in Chicago this year. Weird.

The weekend! Shopping, park-ing, Indiana Jones, and running and eating and playing are all on the list.

Sigh.

Seriously, my days are too long. How do real teachers make it through 8-12 hour days, only to travel home and grade papers and plan lessons?

This evening's class was much improved. They were still not very chatty, but I don't feel like it was my fault. In fact, I feel like I did a lovely job of engaging them, and even if they hated it (I don't think they did; they looked like they were enjoying themselves), I did what I could.

Of course, only HALF OF THE CLASS SHOWED UP, so. Yes, half. This will be a problem. I can smell it.

In other news, Scarlett Johansson is not delicious, but No Age and The Tallest Man on Earth are.

Yes, of course.

Everything is fine, as predicted. The guest student loved the class, apparently/allegedly, and is only registering for my part of the class (foregoing the 5 hours a week with a Chinese teacher that everyone else takes). I had great classes today; sometimes I think, "wow--I've successfully swindled these people into loving me no matter what I do!" And that's a slimy, good, slimy feeling.

Is worrying less on my laundry list of goals for China? No, actually it isn't. Worrying is productive. Worrying catalyzes personal change. Worrying makes us scrutinize our behaviors, and helps us make better decisions in the future. I don't care what what Jesus would do (Luke 12:22-26): I'm all about worrying. In this world, nothing and no one is worth trusting, including yourself and your own instincts.

Plus, I think worrying keeps my metabolism up, meaning the sesame-and-red-bean-paste pastries I shovel into my stomach are incinerated like so many tons of garbage in this lovely, odd country.

(By the way, you haven't lived until you've had a sesame-and-red-bean-paste pastry. It's...well, let's just say, it made me question my undying loyalty to the Krispy Kreme donut (which (in another parenthetical aside) exists in Hong Kong (!)).)

Where's my seatbelt?

On second thought, please don't read this.

My Mondaymobile went from zero to shitty in record time. In first gear, a man sort-of hit his girlfriend in my morning class, which was oh-so lovely to deal with. Second gear was the announcement that the teachers will begin operating on an incentive/punishment program (which I am against in theory anyways--merit pay for teachers over-stretches the boundaries of a capitalist approach to the "business" of education). Third gear, you ask? Third gear was a terrible lesson with a usually terrible class (silent, tired, disinterested) which was interrupted by a prospective "customer" who surveyed the rest of class. It was just...yes, a really awful hour and ten that I probably fucked up, and now that would-have-been student will tell my boss' boss that I am the worst teacher ever and I will have to flee the country. I mean, the class literally ended with me asking, "what can I do to make this a better class?" And them telling me. Which would have been great/fine on any other day, but now this woman who came to one class has the impression that I am a terrible teacher, and she will pass it on to the "sales staff," and like a wildfire all the Chinese staff and teachers will be whispering even more than I'm sure they already do about how I am an awful teacher and I DON'T UNDERSTAND CHINESE SO THEY PROBABLY DO IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME ANYWAYS my god.

Thank goodness for my drug dealer, Mother Nature: without residual running-related endorphins I would have assumed the fetal position sometime around noon.

(And then I wonder if I am projecting all my anxiety about living in China on my teaching--I'm constantly worried about being fired, about being a bad teacher, about my visa. My job does not allow me to feel like sending roots into the dusty Tianjin soil is worthwhile since everything is so tenuous. But is it that, or is it some unspoken hope that I will be fired, so that I have a reason to run away from here? I cannot tell, but I think it's mostly the whole I'm-a-shitty-teacher-without-a-good-visa thing.)

From the Jin to the Jing, and back again.

I had a great weekend in Beijing, but am far too tired to describe it in great detail now. I just enjoy metropolitan patterns of consumption, is all. So. Yes. Goodnight. There are photographs and films up, if all is uploaded properly.

On culture shock.

One of my lessons I'm preparing for tomorrow addresses the phenomenon known commonly as "culture shock." My materials go so far as to suggest that it is a scientific condition, with near-identical symptoms. This is an apropos lesson, since all of my students wish to live abroad soon, and the instructor is at some stage in the process as well.

I've decided that I'm still lingering awkwardly in the "honeymoon phase" (a term I have used repeatedly without knowledge of its "scientific" origins). I'm not sure what has retarded my progress. Perhaps the Internet and the ease of connection to my past has something to do with it?

A summary:

Everything is exciting and new. You might think that the new culture is ideal, and you might think that it is much better than your own. If you are sometimes frustrated or have problems, you quickly recover. Everything is quite positive, the people in the new culture are very nice. This stage can last for months, or maybe only a couple of days. It is called the tourist stage because tourists generally do not stay in a different place long enough to have culture shock.

I am still waiting for the "shock" phase, which is next. Perhaps in June? Perhaps tomorrow? Perhaps never?

My review went somewhat well. My supervisor suggested I make a few changes (like writing on the dry erase wall and THEN talking, instead of doing both at once (which I am wont to do)), but otherwise seemed pleased. So. Good-ish!

Beijing and the many modern art galleries this weekend. And a package from home, delivered via my parents' flight attendant friend!