I have been tutoring three children outside of my professorship. This
technically violates my contract, so forgive my hush hush nature.
Recently I have discovered that nearly everyone tutors outside of the
contract, and that my boss was the one that set me up with my “first
Chinese family”. The “first Chinese family” is a husband and wife who
are also both English professors at Southwest University, and I teach
their (surprise, one) child English. His English is quite impressive
because the family has just returned from a year in Wales. We read “A
Diary of a Wimpy Kid” together, which is really fun.
This family introduced me to two other families, and I agreed to tutor
another boy and a girl. Tutoring was overwhelming at first. I still
hadn’t figured out China, and I had to travel to the homes of complete
strangers to teach. I forgot to mention the parents of the other two
children speak little, sometimes no English.
When you enter a Chinese home, which is always an apartment, you must
take off your shoes and put on a pair of slippers. No family had a
pair of slippers that I could even fit my toes in. For a relative
comparison, Google image search Shaq+ shoe and then look at your own
two feet. The families, in absolute shock and confusion, found plastic
grocery bags that they covered my shoes with, which forced me to walk
through their house in a sloshing shuffle.
Their homes are modest in size, but pretty nice. They have hardwood
floors, iPads, flat screen TVs, a couple of Chinese paintings or jade
sculptures, and about any toy a western child would have. Life for a
family of three is quite comfortable, and increasing rapidly. The
family’s that I teach are middle class, maybe even upper-middle class,
and epitomize the average Beibei family. It is rumored that there are
more than 300 million Chinese people living the same life of comfort
and modest material success, which is about the population of the US.
Chinese grandparents basically raise the children, while both their
parents work full time jobs to provide more opportunities for their
one child. Critics of the One Child Policy often argue that today’s
Chinese youth will have the financial burden of two parents, and any
surviving grandparents. The reality is, at least for now, the families
are building small fortunates at an alarming rate, and the quality of
life is far better than my pre-conceived notions.
So every Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday from 6-8 I am with one of my
Chinese families. What was once overwhelming has become an absolute
blessing. Immediately upon my arrival, I am seated and eat with the
family. The food is remarkable, but tastes even better when eaten with
a family. All dishes are served family style. The women are always
concerned that I don’t like the food, and I insist (好吃 hao chi) that
the food is delicious, so they shovel even more food into my bowl.
Their faces light up when they realize I am not being polite, but
really love the food.
I haven’t seen a fork or knife since being in China, but they do use
spoons sometimes. My chopstick ability is ok. If you come across
bones, which is very likely, you just spit them freely anywhere on the
table. Loud eating is not rude, but complementary. I have been scolded
for eating to quietly. Chinese people don’t drink anything when they
eat. If full, simply get up from the table and go to the living room,
no need to say anything.
The Chinese families have become a support base that the other
American teachers do not have. They make sure I am happy, fed, and
clothed. Recentely, my first Chinese family helped me plan an upcoming
trip to Yunnan. The helped me purchase air and train tickets, which
would be impossible by myself.
I have many anecdotes with these kids and families. Surprisingly, none
of the kids are really that well behaved, but they are just young and
overwhelmed with schoolwork in other classes. I will leave you with a
brief snapshot of each child.
First Chinese family: I just finished my final tutor session for the
semester. Although I have already been invited back to their house for
a couple of occasions, I won’t teach again until after Spring
Festival. We read “A Diary of a Wimpy Kid” by means of “popcorn”,
which means that he reads as much as he wants and says “popcorn” and I
take over. I don’t know if that is an American thing or from St. O’s,
but I taught him that. After our last lesson, the boy gave me a big
hug.
Second Chinese family: This boy is only 6! He is full of energy and
absolutely crazy, but I can never be mad at him because he is so
hysterical. Oral Chinese makes no distinction between masculine and
feminine other than contextual use. Many of my university students
will describe a boy as “she” or a girl as “he”. I decided to teach the
boy the difference so he could learn now. He figured it out fast, but
is a real smartass already, so called his mother “he” for the rest of
night. He would laugh and laugh. She doesn’t speak any English. I had
a case of the church giggles the entire night.
The other day he said he wanted to say something to me, so he grabbed
his dad’s iPad and used the translator function. He typed in Chinese,
and the translator (in that choppy robotic voice) said “Crocodile
older brother acquisition”. To my family- I thought of that blue book
and when it says “In my Spaghetti”. We both thought it was one of the
funniest things we had ever heard.
Third Chinese family: This girl is the Chinese superstar student that
American’s are warned about. She is very gifted academically, and can
play a Chinese harp at a professional level. She is 9. Despite her
near perfection at nearly every subject, her English is the worst out
of my three families. Sunday is her birthday, and her father insisted
that I asked that I join the family for her birthday dinner. She was
initially very shy, but has since said that I am one of her best
friends.
Did I mention I get paid for all of this? 80 quai for the one hour
that I teach, which is about 13 American.
Life is good.
To my American friends and family: 我爱你们 wo ai nimen.
JCM
technically violates my contract, so forgive my hush hush nature.
Recently I have discovered that nearly everyone tutors outside of the
contract, and that my boss was the one that set me up with my “first
Chinese family”. The “first Chinese family” is a husband and wife who
are also both English professors at Southwest University, and I teach
their (surprise, one) child English. His English is quite impressive
because the family has just returned from a year in Wales. We read “A
Diary of a Wimpy Kid” together, which is really fun.
This family introduced me to two other families, and I agreed to tutor
another boy and a girl. Tutoring was overwhelming at first. I still
hadn’t figured out China, and I had to travel to the homes of complete
strangers to teach. I forgot to mention the parents of the other two
children speak little, sometimes no English.
When you enter a Chinese home, which is always an apartment, you must
take off your shoes and put on a pair of slippers. No family had a
pair of slippers that I could even fit my toes in. For a relative
comparison, Google image search Shaq+ shoe and then look at your own
two feet. The families, in absolute shock and confusion, found plastic
grocery bags that they covered my shoes with, which forced me to walk
through their house in a sloshing shuffle.
Their homes are modest in size, but pretty nice. They have hardwood
floors, iPads, flat screen TVs, a couple of Chinese paintings or jade
sculptures, and about any toy a western child would have. Life for a
family of three is quite comfortable, and increasing rapidly. The
family’s that I teach are middle class, maybe even upper-middle class,
and epitomize the average Beibei family. It is rumored that there are
more than 300 million Chinese people living the same life of comfort
and modest material success, which is about the population of the US.
Chinese grandparents basically raise the children, while both their
parents work full time jobs to provide more opportunities for their
one child. Critics of the One Child Policy often argue that today’s
Chinese youth will have the financial burden of two parents, and any
surviving grandparents. The reality is, at least for now, the families
are building small fortunates at an alarming rate, and the quality of
life is far better than my pre-conceived notions.
So every Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday from 6-8 I am with one of my
Chinese families. What was once overwhelming has become an absolute
blessing. Immediately upon my arrival, I am seated and eat with the
family. The food is remarkable, but tastes even better when eaten with
a family. All dishes are served family style. The women are always
concerned that I don’t like the food, and I insist (好吃 hao chi) that
the food is delicious, so they shovel even more food into my bowl.
Their faces light up when they realize I am not being polite, but
really love the food.
I haven’t seen a fork or knife since being in China, but they do use
spoons sometimes. My chopstick ability is ok. If you come across
bones, which is very likely, you just spit them freely anywhere on the
table. Loud eating is not rude, but complementary. I have been scolded
for eating to quietly. Chinese people don’t drink anything when they
eat. If full, simply get up from the table and go to the living room,
no need to say anything.
The Chinese families have become a support base that the other
American teachers do not have. They make sure I am happy, fed, and
clothed. Recentely, my first Chinese family helped me plan an upcoming
trip to Yunnan. The helped me purchase air and train tickets, which
would be impossible by myself.
I have many anecdotes with these kids and families. Surprisingly, none
of the kids are really that well behaved, but they are just young and
overwhelmed with schoolwork in other classes. I will leave you with a
brief snapshot of each child.
First Chinese family: I just finished my final tutor session for the
semester. Although I have already been invited back to their house for
a couple of occasions, I won’t teach again until after Spring
Festival. We read “A Diary of a Wimpy Kid” by means of “popcorn”,
which means that he reads as much as he wants and says “popcorn” and I
take over. I don’t know if that is an American thing or from St. O’s,
but I taught him that. After our last lesson, the boy gave me a big
hug.
Second Chinese family: This boy is only 6! He is full of energy and
absolutely crazy, but I can never be mad at him because he is so
hysterical. Oral Chinese makes no distinction between masculine and
feminine other than contextual use. Many of my university students
will describe a boy as “she” or a girl as “he”. I decided to teach the
boy the difference so he could learn now. He figured it out fast, but
is a real smartass already, so called his mother “he” for the rest of
night. He would laugh and laugh. She doesn’t speak any English. I had
a case of the church giggles the entire night.
The other day he said he wanted to say something to me, so he grabbed
his dad’s iPad and used the translator function. He typed in Chinese,
and the translator (in that choppy robotic voice) said “Crocodile
older brother acquisition”. To my family- I thought of that blue book
and when it says “In my Spaghetti”. We both thought it was one of the
funniest things we had ever heard.
Third Chinese family: This girl is the Chinese superstar student that
American’s are warned about. She is very gifted academically, and can
play a Chinese harp at a professional level. She is 9. Despite her
near perfection at nearly every subject, her English is the worst out
of my three families. Sunday is her birthday, and her father insisted
that I asked that I join the family for her birthday dinner. She was
initially very shy, but has since said that I am one of her best
friends.
Did I mention I get paid for all of this? 80 quai for the one hour
that I teach, which is about 13 American.
Life is good.
To my American friends and family: 我爱你们 wo ai nimen.
JCM
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