I'm a Published Author!

I have always enjoyed keeping a journal and writing for self-pleasure, but when asked to undertake the Kunshan Expat Magazine column for my school, I was a bit apprehensive.  At first, I dismissed the idea wondering what kind of fool I might look like in a magazine that caters to general managers and CEOs in the area.  They might laugh at my writing and say, I can't believe she spelled this wrong! or worse yet, What's wrong with her?  She calls herself an English teacher?

I mulled over the idea for a few days, and with a little coaxing from Chitrak, I decided to do it.  I have now written, created, and published three articles showcasing Kunshan International School.

ENJOY!


1st Publication:
Here is a link to my first article publication: http://www.kunshanexpat.com/archives/KC08.pdf.
Find my article on pages 16-17, titled: What's Happening at Kunshan International School?:


2nd Publication:
Find my article on Pages 20-21, titled:  Kunshan International School:  An International Community of Learners.  http://www.kunshanexpat.com/archives/KC09.pdf


3rd Publication:
Find my article on Pages 16-17, titled:  Children Are Our Future.  http://www.kunshanexpat.com/archives/KC10.pdf.

Wipeout

Our beautiful new faucet.

One night while making dinner, I had turned on the sink to wash some vegetables.  Careful now, I reminded myself as I lifted the handle from its down position.  Slow and steady, easy does it.  Little by little, the water trickled out.  I continued to bring the current on stronger.  More and more water flowed out of the spicket, down on to the stainless steel tub, and into the drain.  I had finally reached maximum water flow.   YES!  I thought with a maniac laugh, It’s working!

Within seconds, the faucet dislodged itself from the basin and erupted into the air, landing on the floor beside me.  Water gushed out of the hole where the faucet used to be, just like it had happened so many times before.  My hair was sopping wet, my shirt soaked, and our floor flooded.  Drats.  Another battle lost.

I decided it was time to fix the kitchen sink.  It's embarrassing to tell you how easy it was to get a repair man, but what’s most appalling is how long I can avoid a task that takes less than 5 minutes of time and promises a world full of fewer struggles.  

I didn’t miss a beat.  The next day, I met with our caretaker and gave her a note in Chinese characters:  

Our sink is broken.  我们的水槽被打破了。    

Empowered, I went back home to browse the web.  Not more than 30 minutes later, I was interrupted by a knock on the door.  Outside stood an older gentleman holding the piece of paper I had given our caretaker.  He must be the fix-it man.  I motioned for him to come in and held up the faucet so he could see.  With a few reassuring head shakes, he dialed a number on his cell phone.  

When finished with his conversation, he looked at me and conversed in Chinese.  I hardly understood him, but in context, I realized he didn’t have the parts to fix it, but someone would be bringing them.  I offered him some water and a place to sit on the sofa.  I turned on the television, left the remote near him on the coffee table, and went back to the computer. 

After a few seconds of watching the program, he picked up the remote and began flipping through channels.  A dramatic soap opera, the Asia Channel, Discovery, MTV, all the while I was checking Facebook updates.  A few moments later, I thought I heard his laughter.  I looked up and noticed Wipeout, a newer game show where people are sent through ridiculous obstacles courses, like jumping across a line of large rubber balls raised high in the air over a pool of water, all the while contestants are trying to avoid the padded, moving bars that helicopter over their path.

We sat and watched it together, laughing as people plummeted into shaving cream and pools of water when they failed to get past certain hurdles.  It was then that his phone rang.  I was too entranced in the show to try and understand his conversation.  He hung up and began watching the show again.

Sooner than we knew it, Wipeout ended.  He stood up from the couch, placed his cell phone in his pocket, and waved goodbye saying in Chinese that he would be back tomorrow.  I saw him out, and as I closed the door, I smiled thinking--he wasn't waiting at all.  His second phone call was probably his buddy telling him he would get the parts tomorrow.  But, he decided to stay a few extra minutes to see the end of Wipeout.

It really made my day.  It was a neat experience for me to share an English television show with a person who has probably never met a foreigner in his life.  Well, I guess this goes to show that there are many things that can unite people of different cultures together, like a show about people hurting themselves for a chance at $50,000. 

                                     
                                                                                   Wipeout:

I know that in many Asian countries that these kind of shows are very popular.  Here is a game show Chitrak and I watched while waiting in line in a Chinese store.

                                                            I Survived a Japanese Game Show:

Only in China...

You'll never believe what I encountered as I boarded the bus Monday morning!

Yep, that's a battery supplying power to the bus!  I think it was a "quick fix" so our driver could make his route and the kids could make it to school on time...no matter how safe (or unsafe) the conditions were!  Oddly, no parent seemed to mind as their young children stepped around it and sat in their seats.

Oh, only in China...

My Wise Tooth

Last Week...

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

Ow, I said as I walked over to the medicine cabinet, how many Advil am I allowed to take again?  

Only two for the entire day, Chitrak answered, pointing to the "Directions" section on the back of the bottle.

It's 3:00 in the afternoon, are you positive I can't take just one more?   I held my hand up to my cheek and gently rubbed my sore spot.  Maybe the pain will subside…

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

Chitrak, I can't walk any longer, I whispered to him, feeling terribly guilty.  We had just finished eating lunch with some friends and had decided to leisurely walk around town.   As I had been chatting away with Sam, my throat began to hurt.  It hurt to swallow.  It hurt to talk.  It hurt to touch anywhere in the vicinity of the back, left side of my mouth.  

Quit obsessing over it, he whispered back.  The more you think about it, the more it will bother you.  Let's get you home so you can take some more medicine.

He’s right.  There’s no doubt I would fall victim to hypochondriac symptoms when it came to my teeth.  Besides, I knew the pain was stemming from my wisdom teeth.
  

I hope this tooth comes in soon, I thought to myself. 



MONDAY MORNING    1:30 AM

The first thing I remember was the pain.  It surged through my gums and teeth like a beating drum in the back of my mouth.  I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.  I looked to my right and saw Chitrak curled in a ball, sleeping peacefully.  Whew, please don't wake up!

There was no sleep for me—I was wide awake and doubled over in pain, and I knew there was no medicine I could take.  I slipped out of bed quietly, and walked down the hallway as fast as I could to the restroom off of our master where I could pity myself without waking him. 

This can’t be happening, I moaned in exasperation.  How can I feel this awful?  I grabbed both sides of the sink to steady myself.  I had already maxed out the dosage of Advil recommended on the package.  There was nothing more I could do but wait until morning… when I could research an English speaking dentist… that I could afford… and make an appointment with… and….

I brushed the thought away.

I turned on the sink and let the water flow out into the basin.  I cupped my hand and placed it under the faucet, then brought the water to my mouth.  1…2…3…4…5…. Tipping my chin slightly to the right, I balanced the water over the most sensitive area, counting the seconds in my head before spitting it back into the sink.  A slight relief.

Again.  1….2….3….4….5…  I leaned into the sink, slowly raising my head to take a long look at myself in the mirror.  It’s happening Megan, my conscience sang to me. The moment you have been avoiding.  You will have to get your wisdom teeth pulled, and the best part, you’ll have to have them pulled out in China! 

A strange, but overwhelmingly wonderful thought crossed my mind.  Where did Chitrak keep the pliers?  I was half tempted to rummage through his tool drawer, and attempt self-surgery, but the thought of messing it up prevented me from taking any action.  I may be my own worst company during the middle of a painful night, but it’s nice to know I also have a sense of humor at 1:30 in the morning.  I giggled a bit at the thought of me trying to pull out my tooth like Tom Hanks in CastAway.  No, I’m ready for my dentist visit, come what may.  I will go tomorrow.  I’m actually beginning to think it might feel good.



MONDAY MORNING    8:00 AM

I walked into school, trying to keep my mind off the idea of the crunching, twisting, pulling pressure of the dentist yanking the tooth from my jaw.  I walked off the bus silently and turned towards the school.  Why are all these chairs sitting in the parking lot?  I wondered, pulling out my cell phone.  I glanced down at a text from my team leader, sent only moments before.  Please meet promptly at 8:30 in front of the school for yearbook pictures.  

Perfect.  A great day for a photo op.

I wore dress pants and a plain blouse, an indication that I was in a state of pure exhaustion, as I typically wear only skirts and dresses.  Dark circles lined the bottoms of my eyes.  They weren't difficult to miss with my hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.  A splash of makeup and a small smile tried to cover the pain I was feeling, but it couldn't mask the throbbing sensation from the left side of my mouth.  The top of my palate was laced in pain, swollen from the roof of my mouth down to the bottom of my throat.    

I spotted my principal talking with the photographer.  I ran up to her and recapped all the miserable memories from the night before.  She agreed that I must see a dentist.  Timidly, I asked,  Is there any way you could send an English speaking teacher with me to help me translate? I am too scared to go by myself.  I was scared.  What if the dentist's English is poor?  Will s/he be able to communicate what's going on?   

Hanging on to what seemed like an eternity, I stared into her eyes with hope.  Let me see what I can do.  She said.  I have a family friend that might be able to squeeze you in before lunch.  I'll call for an appointment and get back to you soon.

Feeling a little relieved, I posed for the yearbook picture and carried out my regular school routine.  By the time I had begun teaching my second Kindergarten lesson, my principal had already arranged my dentist visit.  

Zhou, my "Chinese Mom" as I call her, volunteered to take me to Asia Dental.  She is one of the most generous people you will ever meet, but her English is limited.  The thought made me uneasy.  She looked at me and told me to make sure that the translator on my phone was ready.  It wasn't exactly how I had pictured my afternoon to go.  It heightened my anxiety, but there was no turning back.  This tooth, whether I like it or not, had to come out!  

In her personal vehicle, Zhou drove me across town.  Our conversation muddled between Chinese and English, as she reassured me not to worry.  She is my friend, she said proudly, tapping her hand  lightly on her chest.  The dentist has a long relationship with Zhou and my principal.  I am in good hands.  In the best way I could convey it, I tried to ask her not to leave me once I reached the dentist, and that I was too scared to do it alone.  She just smiled and kept driving.

I walked into the dentist office, as I had done before with my tooth cleaning.  Dr. Lee, a young Chinese dentist maybe a few years older than myself, met me at the door.  He spoke with me as I was escorted to a vacant dentist chair.  His English was impeccable and he knew all the dentist-lingo I was using with him.  I was finally at ease.

They examined my tooth and took an x-ray.  We don't think it's your wisdom tooth coming in, they told me holding up the small x-ray up to the light.  You actually have a cavity under a cavity.  We will have to do a root canal today, is that all right?

After agreeing, I was taken back to my chair and reclined.  Dr. Wei organized her materials on the tray.  First, she selected the pick.  She pulled off the sanitary wrapper, disposed it in the trash, and then leaned over to examine my tooth.  Next came the shot.  I didn't even feel the needle enter my gums or the liquid shoot up into my veins, but I could feel the numbness, and it felt nice.  It spread around the back of my mouth and alleviated the ache.  I watched Dr. Wei lean over me, carefully working away while periodically asking me, Pain? 

You're done, she said, as the chair rose.  I couldn't believe how easy it was. I was taken out to the waiting room where I was given pain medicine, and signed up for my next appointment.  To my surprise, the treatment before insurance was only $76.64.  I still need to put on and pay for a crown, but I have been told that my school insurance should pay for most of the bill.

FRIDAY

I am finally feeling 100%.  This was by far my most positive dentist experience I've ever had.  Many of my expat friends cringe when I tell them I had my dental work done in Kunshan by a Chinese dentist.  Some fear it wouldn't be clean enough or they wouldn't have the same standards of a western dentist, but I think these are stereotypes we make up because we are scared and not willing to adapt.  Yes, do your research, but a Chinese tooth is the same as an American tooth, is the same as an Indian tooth.  Dr. Wei is now our family dentist.

The Cost

Root Canal Treatment:    $76.64

I told the ladies at my bus stop how expensive the treatment had been, thinking to myself what a great bargain.  They gasped in surprise.  Do you know if you go to my dentist around the corner, you won't even pay half that?  This means I go to one of the most expensive dentists in town.  :-)

ENGLISH Rules!

This is my high school English class, from left to right:
Back: Samira, Miss Sarah, Stephanie, Jack, Miss Wendy, Martin, Josh, Dominique
Front: Lucy, Delia, Julie, Anna, May, Miss Megan, David

"I'm not even ISH now!" Jack said as he slumped back in his chair with an embarrassing chuckle.

"Yeah," chided Anna.  "Tomorrow you won't even have ENGLISH!"  The whole class roared with laughter.  Jack gave out an exasperated groan and buried his face in his hands.

Across the room, a boy named Josh tightly clutched onto his battered piece of paper.  It was a small, elongated rectangle with frayed edges.  In faded black ink, you could see ISH written in bold capital letters.  He tucked it away in his desk before anyone could see.  Despite his attempt muffle the shame it brought him, it was obvious to everyone, including me, how many letters he had left.  His classmates kept quiet, and instead used their time to proudly display their papers on their desk.  Some used masking tape, but one that caught me by surprise was Lucy, one of my struggling students.  She had taken her passing period to decorate hers with colorful jewels and purple lace trim.  It was definitely something to be admired.

My plan was working!!

It started out as a way to encourage my high school students to speak English throughout our daily, three hour English class.  Every Monday during the month of January, ENGLISH was written at the top, right hand corner of the blackboard.  If anyone spoke a language other than English inside the classroom, I made an over exaggerated gasp, a quick flick of the wrist, and poof! the letter was gone.  The reaction from the class was astounding—sometimes they would playfully tease the student who had messed up crying “WHY? WHY?” into the air with dramatic presentation, other times they got so frustrated that they corrected the student’s grammar and would persist its use for the rest of the day. 

Rule #1:  Speak English in class without the use of a translator. 

The first week was rough, with only a quivering, solitary H, fearful for its life as it sat atop the vast open board.  Impressively, the class was able to make it to Friday but just by the seam of their pants.  As promised, they were given a short 30 minute film in English.  Of course, I provided them with work to complete, but this did not discourage their interest.  It was such a great fit for not only the students, but also for me.  I continued this way for a few weeks but knew I couldn't keep it up, so I instated another rule.

Rule #2:  ENGLISH must remain on the board for 2 weeks.

It didn't take long for students to find a way to take advantage of my simple rules.  Some became near-professional actors, miming all their wants and needs to others so they wouldn't accumulate vanishing ENGLISH letters.  Others were even sneakier, whispering and mouthing words in Chinese, and during the most desperate of times, sharing Chinese words they had written on their notepads.  I definitely didn't make a specific rule to cover that issue. 

Oh how hard my students work to avoid working in class!

I also noticed that my class was surprisingly quiet.  Too quiet.  All students were behaved, sat up straight, listened intently... but they never talked.  During class, they would become saturated with questions and conversation, but they waited.  They held out until the next break where they could, without consequence, expel all their thoughts in Chinese to their friends inside the classroom.  


Problem: this won’t work.  Therefore, I created Rule #3.

Rule #3:  You must speak English in the classroom during your break.
                   (This includes the time from 1:00 to 4:00 PM). 

DING DONG!!!    The class bell has never sounded so sweet.  At the moment I dismissed my class, each and every one of them poured into the hallway like a school of fish.  

I realize that the rule wasn't exactly a huge change to what they have already been doing, but indeed it was significant.  At the induction of my new rule, we were facing one of the coldest winters Kunshan has ever experienced.  As it is, classrooms are heated and cozy, but the hallways are lined with open window views of the school's front yard.  Cold breezes bellow down the narrow walls, circling around you with a chill that sends shivers down your spine.  It was so cold I even feared going to the restroom in case the phrase “freezing your butt off” was not a myth.

Just 3 weeks ago, I implemented my 4^th rule.  I had begun to notice that many of my students were beginning to speak more and more English.  Their shift from the freezing hallway back to the classroom was gradual, but eventually, they came.  It is still very quiet in my room, but I’ve never heard them talk so much in English before.  Now that we have only a few short weeks left together, some students are getting lazy.  (Lazy is a word they know very well in English.)

Rule #4:  Keep ENGLISH on your desk, and you will watch a movie every 2^nd week.

Each student has their own sheet with ENGLISH.  To keep ENGLISH on their paper, they must score 75% or better on anything that I grade, they must speak in English, and they must have all homework completed.  If not, they must tear a letter off the paper and place it in the trash.  It is their choice to do publicly or by themselves.

And this is where my beginning anecdote starts.  Yesterday was our first Friday Movie with my newest set of challenges.  If it hadn't been for our shortened week due to midterms, there most definitely would be 3 students who would have had to forfeit the movie for a “study date with Miss Megan” out in the middle of the (now warm) hallway for all passerbys to see.

ENGLISH rules!!

I couldn't be more proud of a group of students.  They have come quite a long way this year.  


What will my next rule be?  I’m not quite sure yet, but I'm always watching, always waiting.  When I notice that the game is becoming too easy, I know I will have to tweak it again.  Maybe I'll change their word from ENGLISH to WIN.  :-)  We'll see.

Expat Expenses: Can You Justify It?

Standing befuddled in the middle of the cereal aisle, there was no doubt we were amateurs.   The other shoppers assertively scanned and gathered their necessities from the shelves before swiftly moving along to the next item on their grocery list.  Why couldn't I be so confident?  Instead, Chitrak and I were in a state of pure disbelief and facing what might seem as an absurd predicament--Should we buy Cookie Crisp?

We were in Shanghai at City Shop, the “Walmart” of all foreign goods in China.  Our cart was parked in an empty corner, so we could reassess all of our things one more time.   

   How much is it?  I asked again, hoping he had misread the price.      

   About 90 RMB, Chitrak said again, just as he had before.  90 RMB is equivalent to almost $16 in the US.  

Now  it doesn't seem so crazy to indulge in meaningful debate about such a delicious morning meal.  Our conversation led all the way up to the cash register as we tried to justify the expense.

Do you like Cookie Crisp, or are you buying it because you know I love it?  I asked, looking him square in the eye.

Are you kidding me Megan? he said with such surprise, It's like having Famous Amos in milk for breakfast.  Of course I love it!

Say  no more!  His argument convinced me.  Let’s get it!

******

In China, if you only have a taste for foreign food (AKA not Chinese cuisine), then you’ll take a large hit to the wallet.  For us, we can’t justify the expense and have decided that we'll spend very little on our City Shop trips.  This was our second visit, and we really watched our budget.  Take a look at our receipt!  You'll find that a little bit of food goes a long way in your overall bill! 

In all, we spent 589.20 RMB, which means, on all the beautiful foreign goods you see below, we dished out $94.57 (no pun intended).

A Detailed Synopsis of the Damage 

Our Extravagant Buy!

The Breakdown:

RMB       USD $$
15.10  ~  2.42    Dried Mango Snack
89.80  ~ 14.41   Cookie Crisp
36.70  ~   5.89   Corn Flakes
42.00  ~   6.74   Kraft Velveeta & Cheese
15.90  ~   2.55   Green Giant Green Bean
16.80  ~   2.69   Campbell's Cream of Mushroom
16.00  ~   2.56   Reese's Peanut Butter Cup

RMB       USD $$
38.00  ~   6.10   Morton Sea Salt
16.80  ~   2.56   Campbell's Cream of Chicken
10.00  ~   1.61   Del Monte Whole Kernel Corn
16.80  ~   2.69   Campbell's Cream of Mushroom
29.80  ~   4.78   Bag of Garbanzo Beans
26.00  ~   4.17   Bag of Light Red Kidney Beans
69.80  ~ 11.20   Newman's Own Dressing RANCH
32.00  ~   5.14   Beef Stock (cubes)
14.20  ~   2.28  Del Monte Green Beans
10.00  ~   1.61  Del Monte Cream of Corn


What might you be longing for if you lived in China?  
See what you what can buy at City Shop!  
http://www.cityshop.com.cn/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/TopCategories1_10601_10051_-7

Teaching at Kunshan International School

Kunshan International School

I have been working at the Kunshan International School for over 6 months now.  It has been quite exciting, but far different from my experiences in American schools.  Come take a closer look at a typical school day with me.

I'm up by 6:30, shuffling around our apartment, lost in my morning routine.  I must make sure I get around on time because I have a 10 minute drive to work.  No, I don't own or drive a car, I catch the school bus... yes, a school bus!  It comes every morning at 7:50 to the gate of our apartment complex, Yong Jing Wan.  I have three alarms on my cell phone that let me know when I should leave.  When the third bell rings, I lock the door, ride down the elevator, and make a brisk walk to the gate where I meet 3 mothers, waiting with their children at the bus stop.  There is a set of Taiwanese twins in middle school, a young girl from Malaysia in 5th grade, and a 2nd grade Chinese girl whose hair is always in pigtails.  On occasion, a bratty boy runs up with his IE (nanny) who trails behind him carrying his book bag.

The school bus I take to work.

We stand near the busy street of Bai Lu Lu.  I position myself at the edge of the sidewalk, watching for the top of our yellow school bus through the bushes.  The bus is coming.  It quickly takes a U-turn around the center divider and pulls up after nearly being struck by oncoming highway traffic.  (This is typical:  cars will turn into traffic, regardless of what is coming.  It's just the rules of the road to slow down.  For a first-timer though, it may feel like a near-death experience.)  Our bus parks along the side of the road, which means we are still in the street where traffic continues to flow.  There is no stop sign on the side of the bus to warn others to stop and take caution.  Instead, cars, buses, and mopeds zoom by us in the left lane as we board the bus.  The door slides open and a Chinese teacher greets us from inside the cabin.  She offers her hand to help the little ones climb the steep steps to the aisle, where they find their seat. Once everyone is situated, the bus driver closes the door, and we are off.

Now compared to the big yellow school buses we have back in The States, these buses are SMALL.  The one I ride holds only 15 people at maximum capacity, and that wouldn't be a comfortable ride.  Our route has three stops and carries 8 passengers, including the Chinese teacher and myself.  I always sit in the back seat because I have a little more room, and I get to be alone in my thoughts... but it is the bumpiest!  We have driven over bumps and potholes that have sent me airborne for at least 3 seconds.  The students and I have timed the bumps and look forward to them.  Some start a countdown "3...2...1...WHOA!" they'll scream, while the others laugh hysterically.

Get this--I am the only international teacher that has chosen to live off campus; therefore, I am the only one who gets to experience this early morning thrill!  Everyone else lives at school in furnished, two-bedroom apartments.  (They don't know what they are missing!)  But, if I had gotten this job before signing our lease at Yong Jing Wan, we most definitely would have done just that--it's very convenient to live on campus.  Location-wise, we are 6 blocks from the nearest full-size grocery store and three blocks from the high speed train station.  It's also very cheap.  Since we are international employees, our apartment is provided free of cost.  The school also supplies free internet, free gas and electric, oh, and did I mention?  The school also provides you with free meals three times a day!

We reach in 10 minutes.  It is at this time our horn peaks its highest usage.  Beeping at cars and mopeds congesting the parking lot, we finally reach the security post outside the school.  The guards have opened the collapsible gate, and we park the bus near the entryway.  I gather my bags and walk to my office.  Usually, Nini (a piano teacher and Kindergarten coordinator at our school) is sitting inside, with the heat already on.  The office is nice and toasty. 

Yes, I have an office, along with all the other teachers at school.  All students, from grades K-12 stay in one classroom all day, and it is the teachers who move around each period.  There are no lockers (not in elementary, middle, or high school).  You also may have noticed that Nini is not only a teacher, but she manages certain activities at school.  This is the case with every teacher I know.  Teachers will give instruction typically 20-25 hours a week, and the other 15-20 hours are spent in their office grading papers, preparing lessons, and caring for other managerial tasks.  So teacher friends, you must be asking, do they ever take work home at night or on weekends?  HEAVENS NO! 

My office.

Something I really enjoy is hearing the students come into school.  They run down the tiled floors, laughing, giggling, and talking with each other.  There is little supervision, and might I say, very little trouble.  If the weather is nice, students will make their way out to the track and complete morning exercises.  Teachers lead them in structured motions, and after 15 minutes, the students walk back to their classrooms.  

Afterwards, I sit at my desk and prepare for my kindergarten classes.  I teach two kindergarten classes, which are an hour long each.  I pack a shoulder bag with flashcards of pictures and vocabulary, then saunter up to the third floor.

Morning Exercise

My kindergartners are always excited.  English is considered the "cool" subject here, much like PE when I was there age.  You must be wondering how I communicate with them, considering many are beginning to learn English with me… well, I don't run into too many obstacles.  The kindergarteners are very eager to learn, and I am assigned a Chinese teacher who helps me with translate my instruction and deals with disciplining students.  But on occasion, the teachers will leave the room; it usually happens more frequently as holidays come up.  Then, I am left with 30 wide-eyed and extremely excited kindergartners jumping all over the place.  The problem is—I don’t know enough Chinese, and they don’t know any English.  It can be an intimidating language barrier!

Kindergarten--Galaxy Class Teachers

Kindergarten--Universe Class Teachers

I must point out that our kindergarten teachers are kept very busy.  If they leave the room, it is usually to prepare for other projects they are mandated to complete.  Even though there are 3 teachers assigned to each Kindergarten classroom, each teacher has different responsibilities.  I always see them working, even in my class.  They usually will be flipping through assignment books and writing notes to the parents.  Now that the students are familiar with me, the Chinese teachers typically never intrude on my lessons, even if things are going wrong.

My lessons are pretty intense.  If you watch me, I have about as much energy as a monkey on Red Bull.  I am bouncing around the classroom with over exaggerated gestures, songs, chants, and expressions.  The students sit in small wooden chairs organized in two long rows with their palms down on their thighs.  They giggle, watch, and practice along with me in English.  We usually have time for a game at the end, like Marco Polo, Duck Duck Goose, or relay races where students practice the words they have learned.

I do have students in class that would be considered for Special Education.  I have a student in kindergarten that is particularly a handful.  He can't sit still, won't listen to teachers, and is always being naughty to other kids.  Teachers were concerned about the boy and told his parent’s they must take him to a doctor for a diagnosis (a lawsuit waiting to happen in the US).  They did.  The boy went for a full day of testing in Shanghai and was diagnosed with ADHD.  Labeling does exist in China, but there are definitely not as many here as you might find in the US.  There is no special education teacher in our school to carry out accommodations.  No IEPs.  No RTI.  The teachers inform parents that they must take care of it, and whether or not the parents follow through is their responsibility.  

Next is lunch.  The school offers free meals to all teachers.  The first few weeks I ate at the cafeteria with fervor:  I didn't have to be organized, and most importantly I didn’t have to cook!  I enjoyed getting to know all the teachers in school and listened as they spoke to each other in Chinese.  Now I bring meals from home and eat in my office where I catch up on my work.

Otherwise, you would have caught me eating at the teacher’s lounge eating Chinese food.  The teachers’ lunchroom is separate to that of the students.  It has its own queue where you retrieve your meal.  When you arrive, you stand in line, tell a cafeteria worker which food you wish to eat, and then you take your thin, tin tray to an open table. 

The room is bare.  There are no TVs or microwaves; no carpeted floors.  It is a tiled room with long brown tables.  You must fold down the chair if you wish to sit down.  Flavor pastes and large stacks of napkins are stacked in the middle of each table.  The food tastes good for the most part.  I liked the curries, but thought the vegetables were very bland.  Every meal has rice, a bowl of soup, a piece of fruit, two vegetable dishes, and two meats to choose from. 

After indulging in my home cooked meal, I sit at my desk and check emails.  I do my planning and grading for my three-hour high school class.  This is also the time I write magazine articles for the Kunshan Expat magazine.

My afternoon class is three hours long.  It is mostly comprised of 17 year old Chinese students, but there is one Korean girl who is 18.  We focus mainly on discussion, but also do a lot of work in grammar, vocabulary, and comprehension.  At 4:00 class is over.  There is no dismissal bell, but I know it is time for me to leave them.  I gather my things, say goodbye and walk back down to my bus who is waiting for me and 5 other students for our voyage home.  (My high school students remain in their classroom and wait for their next teacher.  They finish school at 5:00.)   


Some people are surprised I can teach kindergarten AND high school, but I think it is the perfect mix.  I get to be silly in the morning, and have a decent conversation with young adults in the afternoon.  The longer I am here, the more I enjoy it.  Maybe I will go back for my ESL License after all!

More pictures to come!

If you are interested in learning more about my school, you can visit their website at http://www.ksis.org.cn/.  Make sure you have Google Chrome, or an Internet browser that will translate Chinese to English!  

Book Adoption

A small conference room in a Shanghai hotel was crowded with a mix of Asian and Western educators attentively watching a presentation.  The speaker, an animated, middle-aged Irish woman proudly displayed the newest teacher and student text book editions from Pearson.

And where were we?  We were late, very late.

The early morning rain had made traffic irritable.  The clouds gave way to rains as thick as monsoon season.  It felt like the first day of snow in Indiana as we sat stuck in traffic on the interstate.    

Fortunately, we made it to our text book adoption meeting only 15 minutes after it had begun.  I accompanied my principal, along with two others from our school administration. We quickly made our way to the back of the room, where the remaining vacant chairs stood.

We had missed the entire introduction of the newest reading series of Scott Foresman and Language Central.  This would have been excellent to watch!  I thought, thinking of all the assessments we could use to track our students' progress.  The speaker changed to the next slide, the Envision math series.

I critically watched as the speaker brought up videos, games, and other interactive manipulatives that made their curriculum much better than their competitors.  There is no doubt that Pearson is an excellent book publisher with quality resources and curriculum, but I was very conflicted:  do Asian international schools really want a western approach to education?

We were given a short break to discuss some of our noticings.  I walked across the room and spoke with a Chinese group of individuals.  One man brought up the issue that all textbooks were in American English, not British English—this poses a problem, many Asian students choose to study in countries other than America because the requirement for college admittance is lower.

This was not the only issue concerning the American book publishing company today.  I walked across the room and spoke with an American whose teaching situation is similar to my own.  She told me, "Only Chinese teachers teach math at our school."  Yes, it's true.  Even in my current school, Kunshan International, only Chinese teachers teach math.  This is because many Asians think the American curriculum is not challenging, especially when it comes to math instruction.  

So, I guess math isn't Pearson's strongest selling product in China.  

I also noticed that the text book's use of vocabulary is very dense, something that a non-native English speaker might struggle with.  For example, my group of kindergarten students are learning basic English words like coat, shoes, and food (this is our word this week).  They do not speak English at home, or for that matter, any time outside of my class.  I can’t even imagine using Pearson's kindergarten material with my students.  It would be like handing them Shakespeare and expecting them to recite pages from memory. 

For me, the meeting was useless, but it got me thinking—What kind of curriculum would best suite a non-native English speaker in the early grades?  And, how can we take the strengths of both the Asian and western educational systems to improve our education in The States?

For further reading...

I found this interesting website that talks about what we can take from Asian teaching.  What do you think?  Check it out:  http://www.tdl.com/~schafer/Asian.htm.

Braving the Dentist

After many nights of prodding, nagging, and complaining, I finally talked Chitrak into visiting the dentist.

After writing about my dentist experience, Chitrak told me he took a photo of me to add to my blog... thanks, honey....

OK.  I won't lie, it took a little self-prepping.  I have personally been dragging this out for over a year now.  In the US, we were lured into Aspen Dental, which was covered by our insurance provider.  At the time, it seemed like the perfect match for us.  Chitrak was searching for a new job, and we wanted a dentist that could easily transfer paperwork.  Unfortunately, we learned far too late that the dentist was more eager for our pocket book than fixing tooth problems.  Young and naive, we listened to the hygienist and dentist, and we were convinced that all of our treatments must be done immediately.  Fix your cavities, scrape your gums, clean with fluoride, buy our special toothpaste, brushes, and mouth rinse...  our bill was enormous, and we hadn't even spoke of pulling out our wisdom teeth.


You must have this done if you want us to work on your teeth, they told us.

And who refuses a beautiful, healthy smile?  So, we gave in, and completed most of the treatments.

A "fishbowl dentist"

Now you are probably thinking, you have been living abroad for 7 months, why haven't you been to the dentist?  Well, besides the terrible experience we had encountered with Aspen, I have been a little cautious of jumping into the whole China-dentist experience.  First of all, I am not particularly fond of people working on my teeth.  Secondly, I would be lucky to find an English speaking doctor.  And most importantly, the dentist offices I've seen in China have "fish bowl windows" where patients are put on display for all passerbies to see.  It is almost like watching a live television show where the characters perform opposite a thick piece of glass.  Picture this:  blonde girl, ghostly white, clenching her fists in painful anticipation, while a large audience gathers outside the window.

I don't think so.

If this wasn't bad enough, there are many dentists like the one near our apartment complex.  The man is not only a fishbowl window dentist, but he is also a part-time electrician.  I want my dentist to be an expert in the field of tooth work, not a jack-of-all-trades.  I was beginning to think I would have to research a western dentist in Shanghai... this might turn out to be more expensive than dental care in the US...

About a month ago, a friend had told me about Asia Dental, a Taiwanese company located on the east end of town.  She told me that almost all the foreign teachers go here to get their work done.  I wasn't going to take any chances though, so I took a trip to personally inspect it.

It wasn't too far from our home, but most importantly, there was no NO fishbowl window.  Also, the dentist and nurses could communicate in English.  What a relief!  When I arrived, the receptionist greeted me with a smile, and after asking her some questions about my teeth, she sent the dentist to speak with me.


How much is it to clean my teeth?  I asked.  100 rmb, he said.

I almost fell over.  Can you imagine only paying $15 for a dental cleaning?  But wait, it gets better.  How much to pull all 4 wisdom teeth?  

Now remember, these figures are all without insurance......  

......400 rmb.... That means, to get all four wisdom teeth removed would be a whopping $60.  Think about it:  it is actually cheaper to fly to China for vacation, get those pearly whites pulled out of your mouth by Asia Dental, and then fly home.

Oh, yeah.





So, we planned last Monday night to get the cleaning.  Chitrak picked me up from school, and his driver took us across town to Asia Dental.  I gave the business card to the driver so he could read the address and take us to our destination.

A "taxi card."  This tells the driver in Chinese where to go.

On the back of taxi cards, there is usually a picture of the streets to help the driver.

Although the buildings were lit up in neon lights as if we were on the Vegas strip, I had a difficult time locating Asia Dental.  By this time, Kunshan was pitch black, and it had been raining for quite some time.  I squinted out the window to see if I could recognize the area, but all the shops looked the same.

"It's there!  Ting, ting!"  I yelled to the driver.  (In Chinese, ting means stop.)  We had almost passed the office.  The only way I had identified the shop was seeing "Asia Dental" in small print on the name board.

We got out of the car and opened the door to the waiting room.

We had not made an appointment. Our procrastination had gone on for quite some time now, why not a few more days?  Content with just scheduling a cleaning, we walked up to the receptionist.  Nihao, can we have our teeth cleaned?  She asked us to wait a moment, gave us some paperwork to fill out, and not more than 5 minutes later, we were escorted to the back room and given a chair.

There were at least eight work spaces, each equipped with flat screen TVs for patient entertainment.  It was well staffed, mostly women in blue outfits, black shoes, and uniformed buns.  The decor looked like a flashback from the 80s, but the equipment was modern and sterilized.  The walls surrounding each stall were about waist high.

The chair reclined, and the hygienist got to work.  First, she got out the drill and ran along the tops, bottoms, and insides or my teeth.  It was very scary, not because she was sawing my teeth into short stumps of nothingness, but for the mere fact that I had no idea what was going on, or what would happen next... and I'm a little afraid of the drill...

When the drill runs, it squirts water into your mouth.  The dentist usually lets you hold an instrument that will suck all the water out so you can breathe.  I call this contraption "the sucker." I realize how childish this might sound, but I always look forward to holding the sucker in my mouth so I know I won't choke, because of instances such as this:

So I'm sitting in the chair, and the nurse bends "the sucker" into a candy cane shape and hangs it on the outside of my mouth.  It is evident that "the sucker" was not functioning properly by the noises it was making.    Because it was bent, hardly any of the water was allowed into the tube to be sucked up the pipe.  Water began to fill my mouth, without any opportunity to escape.  I couldn't hold it anymore, choking on the water, I quickly sat up and spat in the sink.  Why did I wear mascara today?  Water was now all over the towel they had laid across me, in my hair, and all over my face.

But, everything from then on was easy.  She glossed my teeth with fluoride, I rinsed with water, and was done.

How many cavities do I have?  I asked, hoping she will tell me that the tooth bothering me needs fixed.

She looked at me and said, Just little cavities.  Little.  Her index finger met her thumb with an almost nonexistent space in between.  I dropped the conversation after trying a few different ways to explain to her why I wanted to know.  Chitrak had his cleaning, a much stronger person than I, and finished.  When Chitrak asked how many cavities he had, the woman responded, You have more cavities than her.

Our reciept, about $40 US Dollars.

We paid and left.  It was then that I realized we hadn't discussed our next visit.  When must I return for another cleaning?  When should I have these cavities looked at?  Should I get an x-ray?  What about these wisdom teeth?

I have come to realize that a dental cleaning in China really means just a cleaning.  There's no x-ray or discussion on how to care for your teeth.  There was no discussion of options and payment plans, no special toothpaste or brushes that are clinically proven to work.

The staff was very nice, but as it is, communicating in English will continue to be an ongoing struggle.  Unfortunately, I know must go back, and  brave the dentist again for cavities and wisdom teeth.  Eck...

I love... WHAT?

Today, I introduced a new question to my kindergarten class: What do you like to do?  This was meant to be a nice little review of the verbs they learned earlier this week (cook and study).

The students were to answer with a simple,   I like to... cook.   OR    I like to... study.

But as teachers commonly encounter, somethings don't always go as planned...

So after teaching them these new phrases, I randomly went around the room asking students to stand and answer the question.  They tried to stifle their excitement by sitting up straight, but their hands waved wildly and their bodies wiggled with anticipation.   

I called on the first student.  "James, what do you like to do?"  I asked with as much enthusiasm as a television salesman.

"I like to... cook!"  he shouted with passion.

I peeled a red sticker from off the sheet and placed it on his forehead.  Kindergartners go CRAZY for stickers.  Beaming with achievement, he took his seat, glancing proudly at his peers that had yet to be called upon. A few more students stood and answered with such accuracy it would make a teacher blush.  Then, I called on Sophia.

"Sophia, what do you like to do?"

Confidently, she rose from her chair, looked me straight in the eye, and with a smile said, "I like cock!"

The Chinese teacher in the classroom who acts as my interpreter never flinched, but noticed my hesitation.  Oh my, I thought, how do I possibly convey the meaning of "cock" to her in the middle of class?  You can't blame me for trying.  I felt it was important that she knew the students should not say it because of the negative connotation it carries, but I just wasn't successful.

"Megan," she told me, "We are taught to pronounce cook as cuck.  Is this not right?"  

Finally, I told her, "Juline, cock is a chicken.  It does not make sense to say, I like to chicken."  This she understood, and explained to the class.

Mission accomplished.  Tomorrow, I will yet again tackle another day of English!