Work on SATURDAY?!

Here's to another oldie that I wrote almost a year ago.  I never thought I would get this up and posted.  Ahhh... Finally!  Enjoy this short story from March 2013:

Go answer your phone, I tell Chitrak, in hopes he will silence it so we can go back to our movie.  It's like any typical Friday night.  We just finished our dinner and have curled up in a blanket on the couch watching our latest addiction Lost.  His cell phone rings violently on the table.  He jumps up and walks across to our dining room to retrieve it.

Hello this is Chitrak from Ryerson China, how can I help you?  Since it is both Chitrak's personal and work phone, we never know who is calling.  Oh, hey!  Chitrak says in a friendly tone, What's up?

I have paused our show, and silently move next to him.  On the other line I can hear a perplexed young man's voice ask, Do we really have to work tomorrow?

I purse my lips to keep from laughing out loud.

No one's told you yet?  Chitrak said.  Oh man, I hope you didn't have plans!

It's every expat's surprise.  Since it is commonplace here, no one really goes out of the way to tell you about it.  However, this is China.  Saturdays and Sundays CAN BE working days.

Keep in mind international citizens, the working culture is slightly different here.  At most companies, including schools, you are expected to make up the holidays over the weekend.  For example, if you have a holiday on Wednesday during the week, enjoy every minute of it, because you will eventually make it up on Saturday the following weekend (or the day determined by the Chinese government).

So now you know.

Cheers.

Walking Around Kunshan     March 2013

The Canadian International School Kunshan (CISK)

Phase 1 Site - Canadian International School (CISK)

One of the biggest, most recent changes I have made in my life was the decision to move to the Canadian International School Kunshan.  It was not an easy one, as I had to leave my fellow colleagues and a great a principal behind (and I'm not really Canadian, eh?).  But for me, it was a special chance to grow and a way to give back to my community.  Last year, in May of 2012, I signed on as the first foreign staff at CISK.

I started in a planning office on the West side of Kunshan.  I helped in reaching out to the community, finding innovative ways to market our specialized programs, and recruiting students.  Each morning, I walked across the lawn from my apartment, and through a beautifully gardened pathway, to our 9th floor office.

Since then, the scenery and my role in the school has changed.  In October of last year, all school staff moved in to our Phase 1 site.  Looking at it now, you'll never believe it was a strip mall.  We began with a small enrollment of one student, and now after one year, we have over 80 students educated within the carefully designed learning spaces of our school.

I currently teach a combined class of 1st and 2nd graders, and from time to time, help in the promotions of our school.  Since CISK opened its door last October, we have the first English library in the city to offer its students, we've introduced after school clubs, offer an international lunch menu, and have plans to expand.

We are expanding, as of this month.  Construction has already started on our Phase 2 site next to Duke University Kunshan.

In future posts, I hope to describe my experience teaching in an international school in hopes that you may find an interest in going abroad to help students all over the world.

Phase 1 - Planning

Phase 1 - Planning

Phase 1 - Planning

Summer 2012

Summer 2012

Summer 2013

Summer 2012

October 2012

October 2012

July 2012

July 2012

October 2012

October 2012

October 2012

October 2012

October 2012

October 2012

October 2012

Honey-Man

Hanuman, Kunal, & Chitrak

Going to India is always a treat.  Last year, Chitrak and I were able to stay in the Himilayas with his family for a little over a week.  I hope you enjoy reading about the experiences I had there (October 2012):

Okay, he’s not called “Honey-man” or “Monkey God,” but these are the only two names I can remember.

His name is really Hanuman (Han/oo/man), and he is a large monkey sculpture that sits on top of Shimla’s highest mountain peak, watching over the town day and night.  He is a mythical creature from ancient Hindu texts, and is known for his utmost loyalty to his king. 

On Thursday morning, my incredibly fit brother-in-law Kunal decided to take us hiking to see the Honey-Man, err.. I mean Hanuman.  There is no handicap accessible path; the only way is up - so we followed the steep, zigzagged road.  Truly, it was more like climbing a wall that had been slightly angled.  In one step forward, you find that your knee had met your chest.

Along the way, government signs motivated the fitness-minded.  They recommended time limits for the super healthy and the extremely unfit.  We began our climb with a burst of motivation.  After 15 minutes, we had reached a midway point, and rested while Kunal went into a local store and rented three walking sticks.  How thoughtful he was to let us rest AND get walking sticks for our weak and weary bones! 

It took me another few minutes grunting up the hill to figure out they weren't walking sticks at all; they were monkey deterrents!  Throughout our trek, monkeys curiously approached us staring with their little brown, bold eyes as they chomped away at vegetation.  It was hard to predict what they might do.

Monkeys are intimidating and very comfortable around humans.  Kunal had told us earlier, before the climb, not to bring anything with us (like cameras, food, and shades) because the monkeys would steal it and the only way to get it back would be to bribe them with food… if you were lucky.  I had mistakenly forgotten this, and brought along my purse.  I didn't have any food to barter, and knew if the moment arose, I would be ready to whack a monkey.  My hand tightened around the stick, and I firmly hugged my purse as we made our way up another incredible slope (with Kunal not even breaking a sweat.)

As we approached the entrance of the Hanuman Temple, I saw them, a large group of monkeys - babies, papas, and mamas - all sitting near the gate.  For a moment I thought I might be in a scene from Indiana Jones. It was childish, but the thought was still there.

Chitrak helping the baby monkeys get water.  The older ones knew how to do it already.

Inside we walked around and got an amazing view of the entire town. While there, we noticed a few men being harassed by the monkeys (but it was because they didn't have their handy-dandy monkey sticks or the awesome brother-in-law to rent them).  It was then that I noticed Chitrak’s had been in battle before – a crack was visible running down the middle of the stick.  The store owner we were renting it from had tapped it up.  Good as new, I guess.

It was a fun day, but boy the climb down was sooooooooooo much worse then the climb up!

I loved the view from the top.

Our clever little friends.

We made it to the top!

Him-AHHHHHHHHHH-layas

A view of the Shimla in the evening.

Going to India is always a treat.  Last year, Chitrak and I were able to stay in the Himilayas with his family for a little over a week.  I hope you enjoy reading about the experiences I had there (October 2012):

Nervous thoughts danced in my head as I anxiously gazed out the window at the curvy slopes of nearby mountain tops.  We had just left my in-laws house in Ambala hours ago and were headed to the foothills of the Himalayas to meet up with Chitrak’s sister and her family.  I looked at the clock again, and in my head calculated for the umpteenth time when we would reach.

I wasn't terrified about what to say to my sister-in-law, or how I would run up to my niece and give her a big kiss hello - I was more concerned about how we would make it there alive.  If you've ever driven in India, you would agree that the driving can make even the most stubborn atheist a religious man, and that’s on flat ground.  Imagine now you are racing up the slopes of one of the tallest mountains chains in the world.

Yep…

Not that I kept count, but there were at least 10 times we should have died.  Here are the top 5 of my near death experiences:

On our way up the Himalayas.

Near Death Incident #1:  Death By Speed Sickness
I remember there was nothing better than the Tilt-A-Whirl at Indiana Beach – constantly shifting you back and forth, giving you a sickening feeling that would creep up into your tummy, but let’s admit, that ride is only 30 seconds long and many of you would agree that that’s 30 seconds longer than it should be!  Driving in the Himalayas was a 4 hour Tilt-A-Whirl ride in its most raw form, as seat belts are rarely used.  I could almost time the approaching of each curve (I would say 5 second intervals) as my body repulsed the sway to the right, then left, and sometimes an immediate brake would send you forward up next to the driver.  I found that there was no way to avoid it; shutting your eyes only made the sickness worse.  I watched and cringed as curve after curve was taken at 50 miles/hour with the use of only a little brake.

As I looked out to the vehicles that passed, I noticed that some of the buses had a brownish-orange paint spewed out from the open window, which could only mean one thing – the driver didn't pull over for pukers! 

At least I wouldn't be the only one…

Sheena and Spooky sitting excited at our feet.

Near Death Incident #2:  Death By Dogs
The whole family isn't complete without its pets, and so before locking up my in-laws place in Ambala, we seated both the family dogs into the back seat of the car.  We had hired a driver to take us to Shimla, and although he had arrived a few minutes late, he impressed us with his brand new SUV; his seats were still wrapped in plastic…

I couldn't tell if he was irritated, maybe he had been warned, but it was obvious he considerably disliked the dogs touching him while he drove.  Who would?  Their cold noses and their adorable licks to the ear were very distracting.  I held on to Sheena (the eldest dog) who was quite eager to sniff out the air coming through the driver’s window.  She’s quite strong and very obstinate, with a slight case of arthritis and the need to sit in my lap.  Wobbling with excitement, paws digging into my thighs, I held on to her but at times I wasn't very successful.  It was then that the driver would divert his attention to the dog, placing his hand in front of Sheena’s face.  As we climbed higher in altitude, the cliffs began to get steeper, and I was certain instant death faced us if Sheena’s nose were to accidentally brush against the driver’s neck while rounding a corner on a cliff.  I kept my hands firmly around the dog and held my breath.

It was then that my father-in-law asked me to roll down the window.  An excited Sheena got her chance to flap those beautiful long ears in the wind and do what all dogs do, at least until we rounded our first 90 degree turn with the window open.  I felt the weight of Chitrak and his mom press up against me.  All our body weight swung out towards the cliff, with the dog in my slipping grip…  Good Lord have mercy.  That window rolled itself back up.

Busy Traffic

Near Death Incident #3:  Death By Driving “Indian Style”
If speeding around the L-shaped corners wasn't enough, imagine using the road rules of India.  They drive on the left-hand side and pass on the right.  Indian drivers aren't bashful or patient.  They lay on their horn, which is an indicator they have right away, and will pass no matter the visibility of oncoming traffic.  It is moments during these blind spots that you begin to realize you can construct the most beautiful prayer, and promise things you’d never promise, only to make it around the curve. 

Broken railing alongside the road.

Near Death Incident #4:  Death By Rolling off Cliffs
After counting 3 damaged road railings, I decided to purposely lose count.  It was a little hair-raising to know that many people had closer experiences to death than we had already, and then I saw it: one of the semis (the size of a grain truck) had taken a corner too fast and tipped over.  He must have been a man of god, because he was spared only a foot from the edge – miraculously saved from a tumble down the 20 kilometer hill.

Knowing people were having nearer death experiences than us, or even death experiences, is almost-death to me.

It does happen, but not as frequently as you might think.  This was the only one we spotted.

Near Death Incident #5:  Death By Wildlife
Let’s not forget those cute little monkeys you see on the side of the road.  They are like the deer of Indiana – EVERYWHERE!  They don’t typically get in the road, and for residents, they are accustomed to the wildlife, but every once in a while, you’ll see a cow in the middle of the street.  BRAKE!

Chinese Fire Drill

Kunshan International School
Fire Drill, May 2012

As a student, I always enjoyed fire drills.  It was a break from the monotonous dull of class and a chance to get out into the fresh air where I might spot a friend I wouldn't normally see.  Well, as you have probably guessed, my experience was slightly different in China.  Here's the story of my first Chinese "fire drill" (May 2012):

Before starting my high school English lesson, I was approached by the class monitor who informed me of our 1:40 fire drill.  At 2:00, our panic-stricken class teacher ran into the classroom and urgently herding us outside.

"Did you hear the alarm, Wendy?"  I asked her confused.  

"No, and we're late!"  We shuffled downstairs and out the front doors of the school to see a small portion of the school's student body had been listening to two speakers standing around some fire equipment.  I was surprised to see that students weren't in regimented lines standing quietly in a location far from the building.  It was quite obvious from the sight that this wasn't a practice drill but a demonstration on fire safety.  And, the presentation was just about to begin...

Outside, there were no chairs, benches, or bleachers.  Students stood in clustered groups and apathetically watched as some of the KSIS staff worked together to create a fire pit.  Some standing, some of the more weary had brought themselves down to a squat, slumped over with their head in their hands. Looking around, I viewed teachers who had left their students and had moved to the back of the audience to talk quietly among themselves.  To my surprise, many uninterested students stood nearby, doing the same without any reaction from the faculty. 

It was at this time that the Dean of Students took the microphone and spoke out to the crowd.  Simultaneously, the school's security guard grabbed an orange bucket full of gasoline and poured it into the pit where four wooden sticks with rags tied to one side lay soaking. 

Then, the speaker set the pit ablaze.  All eyes held a steady stare into the fire, anticipating the speaker's next move.  

It was time to pull out the big guns!  First, the Dean of Students demonstrated how to use the fire extinguisher, but I could tell the students were expecting something more.  The longer he spoke, the more the students inched up closer to the fire pit.  A teacher had to come through and ask them to scoot back.  

And then, it happened.  In all its glory, a large white cloud shot out from the mouth of the slender red device and smothered the fire.  Students stunned themselves into a silence, then a large applause.  The security officer poured more gasoline into the pit and lit it.  The speaker looked around the crowd and began calling up students.  With guidance, lucky volunteers had the opportunity to distinguish a fire.

The show came to an end.  All students were excited and went back to learning in their classrooms.  

______________________________________________

In this experience, as in many I have had here in China, it is not uncommon to learn at the last moment of an event or function that you are expected to attend.  This is mostly because it just happens this way in China.  In fact it is quite common for wedding venues to be booked three days before the service, and for cancellations of major community events to be rescheduled up until the day of the celebration.

Bringing your western ideas of how people should be informed and how things should be run can easily get you frustrated  I can tell you that from time to time, I can find myself slipping into negative feelings.  It's then you catch yourself and realize that you are a guest in their country.  You redefine why you came to live in China in the first place.  I did not come to China to live the "western high-life."  I came here to immerse myself in everyday culture.  I want to live in China

For the students, the fire drill was exciting, like seeing something that for them would only happen in the movies.  For me as a teacher, it was a safety hazard.  The fire demonstration area had not been taped off, nor adequate seating arrangements made to keep students a safe distance away.  This meant that during the presentation, students in clear aim of the fire extinguisher were covered in a mix of chemical smoke and fire debris.   

But at the end of the day, and despite my very western view of how to run the event, we learned about fire, no one got hurt, and we went back to learning.  We covered most of the important components of a fire demonstration anyway, right?

Please take a look at exciting moments from the afternoon below:

Dousing the flame pit with some kind of flammable liquid.  Surely not a recommendation by Smokey the Bear.

Our featured guest, invited by Lisa our principal, along with the High School Dean.

Starting the fire.

Anticipation growing.

The beginning 

How to use a fire extinguisher.

The boring lecture before the cool stuff started to happen.

Students standing side-by-side awaiting fire demonstration.

Excited student body inching closer to the fire pit.

Smoke hurled into the air  Shifting the group of students on the left to cover their mouths and eventually move to a non-smokey area.

Calling all volunteers!

But first, a demonstration by the dean.

More gagging students in the midst of the smoke.

Teachers and students uniterested to the demonstration going on.  No one seemed to be bothered.

Our bravest students take on the task of extinguishing the fire.

Now, a firing line.

SUCCESS!