Filed under: teaching
Someone recently asked me to name a few English schools in Dalian. Here is a (definitely incomplete) listing:
Aston English/Future English – as far as I know, mainly kids.
New Oriental english.neworiental.org – offers adult classes
English First www.englishfirst.com.cn – kids and adults
Web International English www.webi.com.cn – adults only
Rockies English School www.rockiesenglish.com – mainly kids.
Maple Leaf School www.mapleleafschools.com – kids
Anyone is welcome to add to the list via the comments section! Thanks!
Filed under: Uncategorized
Hi everyone, I know I haven’t updated in forever! I have been extremely busy making plans for next year. Well, it’s finally over. I will be staying in Dalian next year, working at an adult language training center. It took a lot of soul-searching and a lot of job apps but I’m happy with my decision and excited to continue the adventure! I have two articles for this blog in the works, including a travel article for a local magazine here, so stay tuned!
Filed under: teaching
For the past six months, I have been agonizing over what to do with one of my classes, a group of four astoundingly unmotivated twelve year olds. Neglected by their parents, they are rude, obnoxious and highly resentful of being forced to attend extra classes. In fact, I recently had to deal with one girl who was talking about me in class, assuming I couldn’t understand her. That was a glorious Bitter Teacher Moment for me: watching her face fall in embarrassment as I told her, in Chinese, that if she had a problem she could leave.
I usually walk away from this class feeling like a failed teacher. I don’t think I really am; most of my classes are pretty good, and deep down I know that my real talent–passion, even–lies in teaching adults. Besides, teaching is a job that requires a lot of attention, patience and energy. Even when you have motivated students, it just isn’t a walk in the park.
Except for last Sunday.
As I ushered these students out the door, I told them to say goodbye to China. “Zaijian, Zhongguo!” a few them shouted. Once we stepped outside, we could no longer speak Chinese–only English.
They actually seemed scared. A few of them closed their mouths and went “MMMM!! MMMM!” Normally this class can’t stop talking, a characteristic which worked in my favor here; by the time we reached Xinle Park, they were at least attempting 1-3 word sentences:
“Dog!”
“He flying a kite!”
“Big, BIG dog!”
They got very excited by the dogs. That one girl who doesn’t like me even engaged me in conversation: “Teacher, I have a big dog at home. I have her for three years.”
As we walked, I asked students to describe what they saw. Sometimes I pointed out the English words for various things that we saw. I found myself wishing that one of my Chinese classes had been like this; how exciting it must be to see your familiar world through another culture’s language. Mostly, the students just nodded. Oh well. They are twelve–they’d rather be outside playing instead of going to school six days a week, and I can’t blame them.
As we returned to school, I could tell they were running out of steam. Still, I was impressed by their ability to adapt, and I hope they gained a little more confidence.
And finally, I got to brag to my friends about how teaching is a walk in the park.
Filed under: week in pictures
I apologize for the lack of updates; I’ve been pretty busy with a new class. In addition, Pam’s friend Marlin is here from Canada, so we’ve been experiencing Marlin Mania. So, I haven’t been taking as many pictures. I’m actually in the middle of an actual post about teaching, since I haven’t written in a while. In the meantime, though, here are a few random shots from the past two weeks.
Marlin arrived late Tuesday night…and so did food. So, so much food, none of which you can find here in Dalian: jello, popcorn, four different kinds of mustard, maple syrup, smokies, sour candies, cheese, GOOD COFFEE, EARL GREY, bagels, saskatoon berry jam, pistachios, pesto, and…oh, I don’t know, so, so much. Plus, the sparkly bacon T-shirt that Pam is wearing!
Despite Marlin Mania, life has continued as usual. Here are three of my students giving a presentation on a story they wrote about animals with powers. From left to right: Sam, David and Tom.
Merry Christmas everyone!!! Wait a minute…isn’t it March? The entrance to underpass in Victory Square.
Any time I see a “COFFEE” sign I get excited. This is a view from the inside of SPR Coffee, a cafe that is somewhat frequented by the expat crowd. Actually, the coffee is terrible and the food is overpriced, but they do decent cappuccinos and they have comfy chairs. It’s a nice place to come an relax, as it’s never really crowded and the staff doesn’t discourage loitering.
A shot of my friends Chris, Pam and finally me, taken at Chris’ place. I think that when I leave Dalian, one of the things I’ll miss most will be all the evenings we hung out at Chris’. Did I mention that I am the Nostalgia Queen? I know that in a few years I’ll find myself revisiting this blog and crying my eyes out…
Filed under: week in pictures
Night life in Dalian is fairly lively…unless, of course, you’re an English teacher whose days off fall on weekdays. Well, clubs aren’t all that interesting anyway. Here’s a peek at what happens to Dalian’s streets after the sun has gone down…
A night market near Youhao Square. In Dalian–and, I suppose–in many Chinese cities–night markets are quite popular.Now that it’s warmer out, they’re popping up everywhere. You can buy anything: street food, jewelry, T-shirts with bad English, hats with bad English, slippers, even underwear!
An underpass by Qingniwaqiao, across from Victory Square. I think the lighting puts a bit of cheer and excitement into people’s nightly excursions.
Youhao Square. At the center of the square is a giant disco ball. Don’t ask me why. No sleep till Brooklyn? Pshaw. No sleep till DALIAN!
While wandering around, I stumbled upon a church on Yuguang Street. I have been looking for a church forever – there’s nothing like going to a church, or any place of worship, to escape the noise and haste of city life. I almost missed this one, as it was hidden inside a construction wall. At the alter, you can see a cross, and, below, a menorah! I suppose they have services for multiple faiths. Flanked on either side are chinese characters: “一吗。。。内科“， or “yima…neike,” which I haven’t been able to translate. The second word, “neike,” literally means medicine that is meant to cure internal illnesses (as opposed to visible wounds). I asked my co-workers about “yima,” but even they didn’t know. “The one mother can heal your soul”? Your guess is as good as mine.
The Dalian International Airport at night. Guess I’ll be stuck here another year…
Filed under: holidays
Happy International Women’s Day! I don’t plan on doing anything special to celebrate, but I did run outside this morning and I don’t have to come to work until three. Here in China, some people even get the day off…but a half day is pretty good too.
It is refreshing to live in a country where International Women’s Day is acknowledged, which is not the case in the U.S. In fact, a few years ago I surveyed various women of all ages at my college and found that not many people had even heard of it. I suspect this is because of the holiday’s historical link to socialism. In fact, it was a member of the Socialist Democratic Party–Clara Zetkin–who first proposed the idea at the second International Conference of Working Women in 1910. For the next decade, International Women’s Day would function as a stage for various political causes, particularly labor rights. Later, as World War I devastated Europe, International Women’s Day matured into a day to protest the war, especially in Russia. Lenin declared March 8 a national holiday to honor women, and it was Russia’s influence that brought the holiday to China.
Today in China, however, most people know about International Women’s Day, though they don’t necessarily celebrate it. I asked my co-workers if they usually give their mothers and sisters a flower, as is custom in many Eastern European countries, but they said no. I would buy them flowers…if I knew where to get flowers around here!
In Chinese, today is also referred to as Sanba Jie, which literally means 3-8 (March 8th). But don’t go around wishing everyone a happy “Sanba jie” as I did at work today. According to my Chinese friends, “sanba” has a very different meaning–and it’s not flattering for women. I thought hitting up the streets of Dalian to investigate what people thought of this multifaceted Sanba Jie, but then I realized that my Chinese isn’t advanced enough. Luckily, Su Fei of Sexy Beijing beat me to it:
(My Chinese friends say that one should not say “sanba jie”; so why do they use that term in this video? Haven’t figured that one out yet.)
I would hardly say that women are treated equally to men in China. How many times have people–women–told me that men are better at things like math, science, driving and finding directions? Why is it that one of my co-workers, an intelligent, assertive woman who happens to be an excellent teacher, is reduced to a giggling, whiny-voiced ding dong when she talks to her boyfriend on the phone? And why are there advertisements for abortion clinics on the buses, yet so many women either don’t know about birth control or are discouraged from purchasing it? Then again, the people Su Fei interviewed are right–the condition of women’s lives have dramatically improved, in China and throughout many regions of the world.
But there is still so much to be done. Why not start on the local level? If there happen to be convenient flower shops in your country, go out and buy your mother, daughter, sister or girlfriend/wife a rose!
For more on International Women’s Day, please check out the official website: http://www.internationalwomensday.com/about.asp
Filed under: week in pictures
Every Thursday, I will be posting a new series called the Week in Pictures, featuring pictures that I have taken of different things in Dalian. I stole the idea from the New York Times. Enjoy!
Even though Christmas has long passed, you can still see a scripted “Merry Christmas” in the window. These kind of homages to Christmas are quite common in Dalian, and are usually accompanied with tacky Christmas decorations. Except for the Chinese characters, this picture reminds me of what a typical Brooklyn diner looks like around Christmas time. (By the way, we order take out from this restaurant. In Chinese. Yeah!)
A room in a tea house. Pam and I came here to study Chinese. A pot of tea is 50 yuan and comes with a hot water canister. The table can also be used as a mahjong table.
A football field near a power plant and a steel mill. The banner above says, “Fight on, China” or “Go, China”
A stream of garbage I pass on my way to work. Around this area, you can often see stray dogs rummaging for food.
Three of my favorite students! They’ve just finished reviewing for their exam and, since there were only three students that day, we decided to let them play Life. From left to right – Sophia, Kitty and Leo.
Filed under: daily life in china
While the bombs firecrackers exploded outside our windows during Spring Festival, we had a noisy incident of own. Last week, I returned home from work one evening. At first things were quite normal–I said hello to my roommate Pam and her boyfriend (some of you may know that I recently moved in with a friend) and started to warm up something for dinner.
Then our neighbor walks in through the bathroom.
Our apartment is actually two apartments: Pam and I share a fairly sizable portion (two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and a dining area), but there is another part that is closed off from us, which belongs to the landlord’s brother. We all use the bathroom; otherwise, it’s like a completely separate apartment.
So we weren’t completely staggered when a middle-aged Chinese man came out of our bathroom. We were, however, annoyed that he came to fiddle with our breakers in an attempt to restore electricity in his apartment–and in the process took out most of our apartment’s power.
That isn’t exactly a tragedy; we still had one good outlet, and outside it was cold enough that we could move some of the food to our patio over night. The real tragedy was the smoke detector. It beeped. And beeped. About every ten seconds. Four people got up on a chair and tried to deactivate it, but to no avail. Apparently, in many Chinese apartment complexes, the smoke detector is powered electrically rather than by battery, and it starts to beep when it doesn’t have enough power to work properly.
Our neighbor’s brilliant suggestion was to close the kitchen doors. Yeah, thanks.
We ended up having to do this:
Yes, that is a pillow taped to our ceiling.
It did muffle the sound a bit; at first, we were patient. We could bear it. But after two days of waiting for someone to fix it, we were starting to go a bit crazy. On Valentine’s Day, Pam went out with her boyfriend, and I ended up going to a bar by myself just to get away from the noise. It was just fine, though–I ran into some friends and had a good time.
Finally, a few people came to deactivate the smoke detector (we have to buy a new one), but only yesterday were we restored to full power. The guy next door says to keep a receipt for the bill and give it to the landlord. But the landlord is in Korea and has been there for a while! Somehow, I don’t think we will ever get that money from our neighbor. If only we could lock him out of the bathroom…
When I was a kid, I remember feeling sad that fireworks were outlawed in New York (except for at official events, of course). My dad used to take me to the roof on New Year’s to watch them; but with the new law, that tradition ended early.
But after experiencing Spring Festival (otherwise known as Chinese New Year) here in China, I get it now! Whenever we heard the sky rumble, my first thought was “We’re being bombed!” Whenever I heard a loud crack behind me, the New Yorker in my screamed, “Gunshot!! Where??”
People here use fireworks and firecrackers to stretch out the New Year for as long as possible; it starts a week before the holiday, and usually ends a week after. And they go off everywhere. In the sky. On the ground. Even walking down the street is an exercise in caution; a firecracker could go off mere inches away from you at any time. At any time–morning, afternoon, night. There have been many mornings when, after a late night, I wake up at 7am to a barrage of firecrackers right outside my window; I usually end up screaming “SHUT UP!!” before I’m even fully awake.
Given that I am the kind of person who jumps when the phone rings, you can imagine how much I love Spring Festival.
But that really isn’t a fair assessment of this holiday, which is so important to Chinese people. It’s really just a minor inconvenience compared to the other ways in which China shifts during this time of year. Everyone has been so much happier. My co-workers looked forward to their long holiday with their family. My students have all been a little more crazed than usual, and say goodbye and “Happy New Year!” to me with a little bounce in their voice. Red lanterns adorned the streets; gaudy flashing lights hung on the trees. Aside from the fact that it felt as though we were living in a warzone, Spring Festival managed to break the gloom of winter.
It depresses me a little that, like Thanksgiving, I spent Spring Festival in a bar. But it happened to be a bar in a really cool district of Beijing (Sanlitun) with other awesome expats. Here is a photo of the fireworks we saw at midnight:
View from The Stumble Inn bar (Sanlitun, Beijing)
In Beijing, I stayed with a friend, who tirelessly showed me a good time. We were even invited to her Chinese co-worker’s home to bao jiaozi (wrap dumplings) in honor of the New Year. I have never been good at wrapping Christmas presents; apparently I’m not cut out for wrapping dumplings, either. But it was good fun struggling with the other expats there while my friend’s co-worker, and her elderly parents, patiently helped us. Here we all are, trying to be Chinese:
Me, Amy (purple shirt) and her friends/co-workers boaing jiaozi
Wrapping dumplings is a bit of an art in Chinese culture. Some people even wrap them in the shape of flowers. Ours looked more like lumps. But these were, hands down, the best tasting lumps I have ever eaten. If only a Chinese mom would adopt me…
Filed under: Uncategorized
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Dalian!
On Christmas morning, I did not awake to the thrill of unopened presents under the Christmas tree, but I did learn how to say “acute outer intestinal infection” in Chinese. So, sadly, I spent Christmas morning wandering a dark, cold, unhygienic hospital in daze, unable to even wish I were home eating popovers and omelets because my stomach hurt so much. Luckily, I was with someone who spoke fluent Chinese, because I was too out of it to be of any use.
Not many people like hospitals, but this hospital that I went to was downright Kafkaesque. Everywhere we went was cold and filthy. First we were given a number and told to wait to see the doctor. After about half an hour, my friend took me to a small, bare doctor’s office, where people line up from the desk, waiting to be interviewed. This means that there is no privacy at all; if the doctor declares that you have some life-threatening disease, everyone else knows it. As the only foreigner patient in line, I was apparently a source of amusement for the other patients. People grinned and laughed when the doctor asked if I get regular periods, if I was pregnant, etc.
From then on, I was constantly being shuffled from a cold room to an even colder hallway, and then from another cold room to yet another colder hallway; this continued for about an hour or so. I went to a room where they drew blood, waited in the coldest hallway in Dalian for a while, and then I was sent back to the same doctor. She gave me a diagnosis, but the only thing I understood was “this is very serious.”
They then sent me to yet another cold room that looked like a hair saloon: big chairs, covered in standard hospital blue cloth, lined the room, some back to back and some facing each other. All that was missing were hair steamer caps. Instead, everyone was hooked up to their own IV. Getting an IV in China is about as common as getting a tattoo back home. People will do it even for a cold.
As the nurse plugged the IV into my hand, she asked where I was from. “She doesn’t speak Chinese,” the other nurse said with more than a hint of glee; and, very foolishly, I looked her straight in the eye and said, “America.”
“Oh America!” she declared, and then looked at me conspiratorially. “So, which is better: China or America?”
“They’re completely different,” I said. “But both are good.”
All the nurses giggled. “Ha ha! China is so much better than America!”
And because I didn’t know how to say a few choice in words in Chinese, my language skills, in effect, forced me to turn the other cheek. Just as well, I suppose.
It was by far not the worst way to spend the holidays, though. I was staying at a friend’s house, and people floated in and out to quietly celebrate. Of course I missed my family like crazy, but it was far from lonely. The day after Christmas, we made potato and pumpkin pierogies (using dumpling wraps) as well as sour cream (whipping cream and vinegar). They were quite good; though I will admit that, once I started to get my appetite back, I did miss popovers and omelets.
