On January 1st I was invited to the house of one of my favourite students, Lily Huang. It was less weird than it initally sounds. She is an adult English teacher whom I teach on Sundays and is absolutely lovely. She has been one of the several Chinese ladies who have taken me on as an adoptive, temporary daughter. Her own daughter, Anna, who also comes to my lessons sometimes, picked me up from Aston and we went the short way back to there very nice home. I was introduced to other family members and sat, freezing cold (like I usually do whenever I am invited to Chinese homes), making small talk.
Soon after, as I should have predicted, I was invited to make Jiaozis at the dining room table. By now, after numerous visits to different Chinese homes, I must have stuffed enough dumplings to feed an average-sized Tibetan family for a week. I am not ungrateful, I must make that clear. In fact, it was just really nice to spend New Year's day with a family that I genuinely am fond of. Lily emailed me the next week and, in a way that only people for whom English is their second language, told me that 'she loves and likes me like she loves and likes her daughter'. Although I really hope she doesn't mean that, for Anna's sake, it was very sweet.
Another family that recently welcomed me into its home was the Dings.
I am really pleased I stayed with them, even if it was only for a short while. Not only did I get an little insight into the way a well-to-do Chinese family live (and spoil their only child), but I also got a chance to practice my Mandarin on people who couldn’t understand English. The father, Xue Zhun Yun, could read basic English but couldn’t speak it (common in China because the focus is on reading and writing in schools).
The mother, with whom I spent the most time, had no English, apart from the few words I taught her. She was very kind, if a little giggly, and always called me Saahwee instead of Sarah. Any food or activity I expressed a liking for, she would see to it that I could have it (usually meaning the live-in maid would be put on the case). I actually ended up going for nightly walks with her and Ding Jian, the son, just because she knew I like walking. One night we climbed the hill in Zhe shan park in the dark – random but very amusing.
It was quite tiring living there at times, especially after a working all day. I had to communicate and my brain was certainly exercised through practicing Chinese. Just hearing Ding Jian and his 13 year-old cousin playing and chatting was useful and I definitely picked up a few new phrases and words. However, they spoke the Wuhu dialect, which can sometimes be unrecognizably different to Mandarin. Therefore, I did have to keep asking them to talk slowly and repeat themselves in putong hua (standard Mandarin), which sometimes made me feel a bit frustrated – you just feel a bit thick!
They were very patient with me, though, and we had a few giggles at misunderstood questions (very easy because of the Chinese use of tones). For example, one evening they asked me how much I weigh, but I thought they were asking me how much I cost. I inquired as to why they would want to know my price and if they were intending to sell me, which they seemed to find very amusing.
I feel really lucky to have stayed with them and so pleased that my chinese has come on enough to have allowed me to survive there with no real problems. I bought them a big bunch of flowers and chocolate when I left, but it hardly seemed adequate as a way to show my gratitude.
Last Wednesday, was Joe and my last trip to Kindergarten. I took loads of photos, one of which is below, to remember the place. I can't say I ever want to be a nursery school teacher but it was a nice experience. Some of the children were so so sweet - I wanted to take some home with me in my handbag.
The photo above is the street outside the very modern Kindergarten building. I wanted to capture the environment of bustle, verging always on chaos. Unfortunately, I failed. There are usually taxis, bikes and people squeezing through the narrow street, as people sell cooked poultry, fruit and fish at the sides and others sit in the ramshackle buildings and eat noodles. In the photo above, there is a piece of cloth on the ground where a man was de-scaling huge fish in order to sell them. There was blood and goo everywhere. Neither the fish-seller nor his customers seemed bothered that the fish were on the ground and they looked at me as if I was the unusual sight when I took a photo.
The next day, Thursday, was Ahmir's birthday. We all went out for a meal at a Korean DIY BBQ restaurant, which was really good. Ahimr had to work the next morning so we saved the proper celebrations until Friday night (when I managed to get horrendously drunk for the first time since being in China). The photo shows Phillip and Jamie proudly tucking into the eggs they fried (you do everything yourself at the table - satisfying and tasty).
Ahmir posing with his Communist flag and scarf wrapped around him. Both were birthday presents. He was asked to take off the flag in the office as it was seen as inappropriate and verging on the subversive. Ahmir is even more fond of it now.
Eva and Ellie (my two Chinese teachers) and Fairy at the BBQ restaurant on Thursday.
I must now go and prepare for my last parents' day class (Aston want to show the parents how I teach - it's a promotary sort of exercise that's a bit nerve-racking). Before I do that, I must mention the amazing 1.5 hour massage I had on Thursday. It cost about 3 pounds and was really relaxing. The focus was on the feet (Chinese acupuncture points) but they massage your legs, arms and back, too. I went with Kaori and enjoyed it so much I want to go again next week before I leave Wuhu!
