The new job started and so it happens that I am a university teacher now. Who would have thought. Not much has changed though. I am not even entitled to be called “professor,” I am still a normal “teacher” or “Julia” that nobody knows how to pronounce. Yet, some of it is new.
First of all, the respect that Chinese students pay the teacher is incredible. You cannot observe it when they are ten and in a training school, but when the students get eighteen and they really want to do well in their studies, you do. Nobody in Europe listens to university teachers that much. You tell them: “Be quiet!” and the class of forty students fall silent. You give them instructions and they follow. You rule the class. The key lies in enjoying ruling the class and in giving good instructions.
Ruling the class might also mean running around like a headless chicken and trying to talk to everybody. I sweat through my clothes, as there is no AC. That is why I prefer to make them run around and I walk gracefully among them for a change. The trouble is that when they mingle, boys will not speak to girls and vice versa, claiming that they are too shy. Really, they are eighteen! Now I stopped to think if I was afraid of boys when I was fifteen, but I couldn’t have been, there were almost no girls in my class and I obviously didn’t fear my classmates. Now, I usually count to five to give them time to run to the opposite end of the room where the girls gather around in a circle. They wait until I say “five” to actually move.
There was one boy who stood up in front of the whole class, asked if I have a boyfriend and when I refused to say, asked for my telephone number. This guy is afraid to talk to the girls, too.
In general, I have a feeling that the younger generation of Chinese people is growing up to be much more confident and assertive. I was afraid that they would not talk in groups or mingle. Indeed, at first they were shocked, but they did it anyway. They come to me after class to chat, they ask questions and speak up. I even had a student rap in front of everybody. Polish students are not so confident, teachers always needed to work on us for some time to make us speak.
Neither do they agree to everything that I propose. I had a series of battles over ridiculous names that they refuse to change. One boy is named “Bear” because it means, in his opinion, “to bear something”, so strength and perseverance. That’s not a name and that’s not the first thing that comes to mind, but go ahead and try to convince him. Another girl calls herself “Lasia” that I immediately changed to “Lucia”, which resulted in her correcting everybody who called her my version of the name. She created her name and she wants it this way. Those people are adults and you can’t do anything about it. When they finally graduate and do business with foreigners, as is their ambition, they eventually may. Luckily, I managed to convince a “Devil” to change her name. I still need to talk to “Stinky.”
They also know a lot about the world outside China. For instance, in two groups there were students who guessed that I’m from Poland by just taking into consideration the colour of my eyes. Really, if this weird grayish bluish colour is really typical for Poles (I’m not sure), how many Poles have they seen anyway to know?! What I find nice is that I don’t need to pretend that I am very English. They wouldn’t buy it anyway.
Anyway, the funny thing is that I wasn’t a freshman so long ago (that’s what I like to think at least) and there is not much age difference between us, but I already see them as children. You can observe it with boys especially. Some of them are normal adult guys and some act up and try to attract attention like fifteen-year-olds. Girls are usually lovely. Many of them are really gorgeous and wear princess dresses to class.
The most peculiar class is the Spanish course. I have taught only one class. I thought they might find the pronunciation rules confusing, but they understood quickly how to pronounce letters and letter clusters. The problem is that they can understand, but cannot imitate many Spanish sounds, such as “j” (pronounced like “h”, strongly, as if you were about to spit, common sound of a Chinese street), “r” (similar to Polish “r”) and “rr” (strong, vibrating r). instead of “r” they say “l” and it must be good enough for now I’m afraid. Besides, I got the worst textbook ever. It starts with a text that says more or less “this is Pepe. Pepe is Mexican. This is Ana. Ana is Cuban....” and the aim of the lesson is to recite the text by heart. Come on. If you meet a Spanish person, what would reciting a text by heart help you?! I have to prepare new materials for them, then. The last lesson ended in students mingling and saying a dialogue we have just drilled: “A: Hi. What’s your name? B: My name is... Where are you from? A: I’m Chinese.” It was so cute to have thirty Chinese students say it to one another. What I did wrong was to forget to teach them to say “bye” and some girls asked me how to say it after the class. But seriously, it just didn’t fit, you usually don’t say “A: Where are you from? B: I’m Chinese. A: Bye!” It would be offensive, don’t you think? What’s more, I teach Spanish to Chinese people in English, by the end of the class I wasn’t sure what language I was speaking. I possible, I write Chinese characters on the board instead of explaining the meaning in English. Less talking.
So now I’m going to bed, prepared for my classes on Sunday morning. At least it is really nice to teach people who genuinely want to learn.
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