November 1-Carving Pumpkins

November 1:

I had planned a lesson on Where The Wild Things Are for Drama today, but when I arrived at my school I discovered that my co-teachers had decided to carve/color pumpkins for class. I was supportive of this, though I wished I had known so I could have taken pictures.

I’m sure our students were confused since English class has been so unusual lately: first, they get new teachers for two weeks; then they return to their previous teachers, but for two days we mess around with face painting and carving pumpkins. This, perhaps, wasn’t the best for discipline because we spent most of our second teaching rotation having the kids stand in their lines reciting the rules over and over again because they simply would not behave.

Our first teaching rotation had a lot of fun with the lesson, though: Every two students shared one pumpkin, which they gutted (some kids loved this, while others seemed utterly disgusted) and then colored with crayons. We had them tell us what color of crayon they were using and what they were drawing. Emily drew basic objects on the board and had the students copy her on their pumpkins. After their pumpkin was sufficiently decorated, Kate and I carved faces into the pumpkins. The students were delighted.

When she wasn’t coloring, little “Old Man/Monkey” Sarah (everyone thinks she looks like an old Chinese man; to me she resembles a monkey, but either way she’s a-freaking-dorable) came over to me to give me a hug or wrap her arms around my leg. She’s our youngest and smallest student, at five years old. Sarah is very quiet and spacy (she’ll usually only speak in class when spoken to directly) and I simply adore her; she’s the perfect cuddle size, so naturally I give her lots of hugs.

The classroom was a mess when the lesson was over, but it had been a successfully fun day.



On an entirely different subject: Since the tap water here is unsafe to drink, the school provides for us five-gallon bottles of purified water and water dispensers. We acquire the water bottles from a store room here on campus, a mild walk away. However short this walk may be, it’s completely uphill on the way back and five gallons of water quickly becomes quite heavy. Therefore, I have adopted the practice of rolling/kicking the water bottle up the road. I feel rather ridiculous doing this, but it’s better than straining my back.

Today, I had an interesting experience. I was kicking my water bottle up the hill when a Chinese teacher walked out of the dorm building and saw me. He laughed at me and shook his head; I said, in English, “I’m not strong enough!” and raised my wimpy white girl arms. He just laughed at me and continued down the road. I thought my humiliation was over, but that night at dinner I ran into him again. He simply smiled and shook his head at me. I thought, “Great; now I’m the laughing stalk of DaGuangHua.” It was actually very funny.