It is 9pm on Sunday and I have just eaten dinner after a spot of roller-skating. If I were at home I would probably not admit to having spent my evening this way, for fear of sounding like an excitable eleven year-old. As it is, I had nothing better to do because my evening class was cancelled. Indeed, we don’t have a TV here, only a DVD player, and I finished a book this morning before my first class, so you may be able to understand the relative appeal of slipping my feet into ancient and clompy skates, and spending an hour trying to master the backwards glide.
I have very little problem making a tit of myself here in Wuhu, because foreigners attract attention whatever their behaviour. It goes without saying that, after falling over and giggling a lot, I still can’t go backwards properly. I did begin to get the hang of it though, so I am just going to have to go again soon; it’s hardly breaking the bank at 30p a time! I’d probably return just to see Paul skate backwards - he looked so camp as he bent his knees, positioned his hands like a begging dog, and wiggled his stuck-out bottom.
On a different note altogether, at lunch today I asked Monica, one of the girls in the office, about whether there had been any interest in my request to stay for ten days with a Chinese family. I asked Caroline a week ago whether a home-stay could be arranged for me, largely because I think living with a family that speaks little or no English would be very good for me. If I am forced to communicate in Mandarin, then I will definitely improve faster. Also, I think it is a once in a lifetime opportunity, to live in the way the Chinese live, if only for short while. Monica said she has had a few responses to the advertisements, so it’s a question of visiting the houses and seeing which one is suitable. Exciting!
It’s pretty cold here now and, whilst I wear thermals and big jumpers (very sexy), I have noticed that some of the people of Wuhu prefer to walk the streets and buy their fruit and veg in thickly padded pyjamas and welly boots. I thought it was quite amusing when, during the autumn, we saw all sorts of people donning teddy bear jim-jams on Walking Street, but this fashion takes it to a whole other level. I will endeavour to capture photographic evidence, although it may be difficult because my camera is not good in the dark and this is a predominantly nocturnal trend.
Last Thursday, I taught at No. 11 Middle School, and I am sure that’s when I picked up my current cold because I was freezing most of the morning, despite needing to shout for the majority of the time. Indeed, my heart sank when I was asked to cover Ahmir, who was sick, because at No. 11 Middle School (the name will stay with me forever, I’m sure) each class has 60 students and the older high-school kids are notoriously difficult to handle.
I taught at No. 11 for a few weeks at the start of term, and some of the younger students remembered me and ran after me calling my name, which was kind of sweet. Apart from that, it was not a particularly pleasant experience. I tried to get the older classes inspired and interested, but it was an uphill struggle, one which I am glad I don’t have to make every week, as Ahmir and Joe do.
Still, I think it’s a character building to face a huge room of teenagers, some of whom think it’s acceptable to listen to MP3s in class, some of whom declare their love for you, and most of whom just want to get on with other homework. The younger classes are enthusiastic, to be fair, so it wasn’t all bad. I just really prefer my own weekend classes, here in Aston. They’re a third of the size and much more manageable, which means I get a greater sense of gratification from the job.
The Christmas decorations went up in Aston this weekend. Fake tree, flashing lights, and bright colours. The Chinese students love it, but I can’t say it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Perhaps this scrouge-like sentiment stems from my knowledge that us foreigners will have to come up with a ‘performance’ of some sort for the Christmas party. There will be 500 people invited (it’s being held at a newly opened gym, which has enough space), and I will have to get all excited for their benefit and talk about how I usually spend Christmas day – hardly what I want to be doing when I am away from my family at this time!!! Indeed, what’s the point of a Christmas party without mulled wine and mince pies? Maybe I’ll come round to the idea nearer the time.
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