Bedlam at 698 (China)- Chapter 4- First Day of Teaching

Chapter 4- First day of Teaching
My first day of teaching. I go into work and get offered breakfast. I sit down to eat and it oat milk some sort of cake a bun and what looks like an omelette. I usually love Chinese food, well the Chinese food that I get in England. I tuck in to find out the cake looking thing with far to dry and there’s a little twang to it that I don’t quite find that appetising, so I take a spoon of the oat milk, its vial, swallow and move on. The bun, Sweet just like the bread I’ve eaten in my flat, so I tear some of the omelette off and place it in my mouth, as soon as it hit my tongue I start gagging, People are looking at me so I try to hide it. I swallow the horrible thing and move back to the bun. I later find out that the omelette was pigs liver, it honestly looked like a vomit omelette. Not the best start to the morning.
Minutes later I find out that my lessons are only 15mins to half an hour long, so I think that this is going to be quite easy as I have been told that I am going to be trained and that there will be at least one other person in the class and that all I will be teaching is Phonics. My first class was cancelled, great start. So, I find a computer and try to access Facebook, NOPE! As I have been told, it is banned but Hotmail isn’t, there’s an email from my mum, so I reply to that not knowing when the next time I will be able to talk to her is.
I arrive at my first actual class of the day. I get given a book and get told that today we are going to do page 6 and page 7. And the class and other ‘teachers’ just look at me. This is when the clog ticks over. I’m in the deep end. I freeze for what seemed like forever. I look at the class, I must have looked like a rabbit in headlights. I glance around the room and there’s about 20 little kids starring confused at me. I’ve been told that I would be teaching four and five-year-old, these children look much younger, I later find out that they are just two years old. How can you teach a two-year-old a foreign language? They hardly know their own language. I look at the page the letters C and D. I’ve never seen this book before in my life, I don’t know to what stage I am suppose to teach these children. And then I just say “C”, a pause, “C” the class repeats me. Soon enough I’m on my knees interacting with the children getting them to do the activities in my book and then to great relief I get told that the lessons over. I walk out the room, with my heart still racing and my mouth bone dry, what a shit lesson that was. Now I have five mins to get some water, think of something decent to do in the next class and get to the next lesson. This lesson went the same way as the last and now I have a 4-hour break until my next lesson. On my walk home I think weather I’m cut out to teach children off this age.
I popped home and then walk down the street to try and buy a mobile phone, as my head mistress has told me to do as you can’t ring a foreign mobile from a Chinese land line, the effort involved in that was immense! But I managed to get my hands on one of those old nokia brick phones for £22 but no sim card. So, I have to explain that I want one of them as well and that was another fivea with a fivea’s credit, I’m thinking that I’ve done quite well there. At home I think about the crap job that I had done that morning and ways that I can improve it. Thing is the kids don’t understand what I’m saying I can’t tell them to do things, I can only get them to repeat me. I hear a knock at my door, no one knows where I live, I slowly open the door and it’s my head mistress, she says I must go back and eat at the school, Bollocks! I manage to get myself out of that idea by saying that I’m unpacking and sorting my room out, she says ok and that I must be back in class at 3pm. I grab some food and lie down and watch some TV I downloaded before I came, as I still don’t have the internet. I nod off. Five to three oh crap! I leg it to work and get there just in time. As expected these next two lessons go as bad as the last two if not worse. And afterwards I go to my office, which I’ve made some mistakes in my life but somehow through what I’m not sure is stupidly or bravery I’ve landed myself an office that is twice as big as my lounge back home in England, its bigger than the head mistress’ office, that is how much a foreign English teacher is respected out here. I reflect on the day, and this isn’t the job that I thought I was getting myself in for. Not only am I the only white person in the school and so far, the only white person I’ve seen is this city, I’m one of three males in the school, the other two being a cook and the mini bus driver but I’m the only teacher in the school. I’ve realised that all the other people in this school are supervisors, they look after the children and play with them, or that’s all I’ve seen them do so far. A knock on my door. It’s Coco, the girl who I’ve only really talked to so far, she’s help me changed my money and shown me around. she asked me how I think my days gone, I tell her straight and ask her what stage the children are suppose to be in a year and if I can have the syllabus. We talk she leaves and comes back with the teacher’s book for the book I’m teaching, I really could have done with this yesterday. We have an open chat and she gives me tips and advice, all of which is much appreciated.
I finish my classes at the latest at 3.30pm the parents pick the kids up at 5pm, and I get told that on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday I have to stay behind and stand at the front door and say bye to the kids, I say “yeah, parade the white guy.” and she smiles, laughs and leaves. I start reading the teachers book as today is Friday and the first day of ‘parade the white guy’. Then Coco comes back with two cakes, and a strawberry yoghurt drink. I wait around until 4.30pm and get told that some of the parents are arriving so I must go to the front. Some parents stare at me and some just don’t care. But I say bye to all the children, some of which I haven’t even met yet and none of which I know the names off. But one plus side of standing in the door way for over an hour with the door open and it pissing it down outside while I’m freezing my ass off is I get to see that hot girl again that I can’t remember the name off. A smile and a wink from my part is all the communication we have.
After school, I go and buy some chips and water for dinner, chirp’s sandwiches rock. I have heard about Escape bar in the city where expats met up on a Friday night so I’m well looking forward to that. I watch some more TV and guess what this idiot does, passes out, wakes up at 11pm and miss the whole night, well done me.