TheBanyanTree: Transition 26

[Pat M]

Hello friends,

It has been many months since you've heard from me.  During the summer, I
enjoyed some part-time ESL teaching in my hometown while continuing to have
my health issues investigated.  I feel great--happy and healthy--but need
the results of my last tests (probably available next week) before I can
book a flight abroad again.  My blood tests showed I have some sort of
autoimmune disease and it doesn't appear to be lupus - so that's
good. They've done a lot of other tests and I am hopeful it isn't anything
serious.  I can't wait to get on with my life!  And I have so many more
stories to tell about my experiences in China.  It's strange how I haven't
been able to settle down and write. I'm trying to get on with it again
though, so here's the next installment.

My divorce was finalized this summer and after over 3 years without
considering another relationship something in me has changed and I've
started 'looking' again. This weekend I'm co-hosting a singles event and a
new friend--a guy who also loves to travel--is going to attend.  He's from
out-of-town and when I met him there were sparks. So this old gal isn't dead
yet!

******Transition 26



My employers, Charls and Margry (that's how they spell their names),
returned from their holiday, which hadn't turned out to be a vacation at
all, but rather a trial in survival. While I'd been wearing tank tops in
Sanya, they had been in Guilin, one of the areas hit by the worst winter
storm in China in fifty years, and they'd been without electricity for a
week in sub-zero temperatures. They'd wanted to leave early but weather
conditions had prevented it; the airlines weren't flying.

When I received a call that Margry was coming to the apartment to meet me, I
was excited. Well-rested after two lazy weeks, I was keen to meet my new
boss and find out more about the school and my position.  When she arrived,
we introduced ourselves. After chatting for a few minutes, she said, "You
look so um um um," searching for the right word.

"Energetic?" I asked, raising my eyebrows quizzically.

"Yes and you're not …," she said.

"Old?"

She nodded.  She knew my age and appeared genuinely surprised at my
appearance and my energy. Many if not most Chinese in their fifties have
weathered faces and bodies that are starting to fail. When I'd climbed the
Great Wall, Ocean, one of my Chinese companions told me her mother was my
age but wouldn't have been able to do it. I'd felt proud of myself for
keeping up with women in their twenties.

"Do you want to see the school?"

"Sure. Can you help me carry some of my teaching materials?"  My boxes had
arrived from Lintong and I had dictionaries, text books, flash cards,
puppets and a 'Flip for Phonics' an educational 'speaking' toy that
intrigued the Chinese—both young and old—that I wanted to take.

Successful English Training Center was only a five minute walk from the
apartment. On the way, we passed a small group of women wearing traditional
conical straw hats standing under the shade of some palm trees. When they
saw us, they rushed toward us. They carried their produce—mangos, papayas
and other unfamiliar tropical fruit I've now come to know as rambutans,
dragon fruit and longans (similar to lycees)—using a pole over their
shoulders with a basket at each end.  Some shuffled with bowed backs under
the weight of their goods and those with lesser loads had the advantage. These
women walk the streets carrying their wares and a small one-armed scale;
some are quite pushy and I'd already learned to avoid eye contact with them
if I wasn't going to buy.

"Boo yao," I said shaking my head and did not slow to look.

Margry and I climbed to the fifth floor of a relatively new white-plaster
building to the school, which was nothing like the school in Lintong. There,
the building was large with 3 entire floors of classrooms, a kitchen and
several bedrooms.  Successful English Training School inhabited one floor
only and had 4 tiny classrooms—two without windows.

"How many students will there be?" I asked, concerned about the
bedroom-sized classrooms.

"The school only opened in March and it is growing quickly.  We expect about
100 students this term," Margry said.

There was a small reception area with a front desk and another desk with a
computer on it.  There were no teachers' offices where I could organize my
materials as there had been in Lintong. I could already sense there were
going to be more frustrations here than in Lintong.

David, a tall, slim American in his seventies, who was currently living in
the teacher's apartment was preparing lessons and Margry introduced us. He
was leaving on March 10th and I asked him about the apartment.

"It's okay but it's a long way from the school and there aren't any stores
nearby.  It takes me about 25 minutes on the bus to get here.  If I want to
do anything, I have to take a bus."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound very good to me, especially if I have to teach in
the evening. Maybe I should stay where I am," I speculated.

David told me he was teaching at a middle school four days a week and
teaching adults at the training center in the evenings.

"Wow, you sound busy. Do you teach the kids too?"

He said, "No, I hate teaching kids. I don't teach on weekends."

Margry gave me some textbooks to look at.

"These are the books we use."

"Can you tell me which grades I'll be teaching?"

"Well, you will teach the little children. We never had this class before.
It's the first."

"Great! I loved teaching the little ones in Lintong "

"I don't know the other classes yet."

I'm a planner and not knowing how many classes and what levels I'd be
teaching until the last moment unnerved me. It meant I'd be unable to make
lesson plans in advance. Self-doubt manifested itself as butterflies in my
stomach. I knew I'd be working many more hours for much less money and I
might be asked to work irregular hours, but I'd chosen Successful English
Training Center because of Sanya's climate and the small class sizes. I only
hoped I could handle the workload.

-- 
My Blog: http://mysouldancesinchina.blogspot.com/

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