A Day In The Life

"Is the Red Army mobilizing?" I wonder, as an authoritative Chinese voice booms commands over a megaphone. A chorus of a thousand voices hurls back responses in unison. Oh no, it sounds like they're right outside the door! "I'm not a capitalist, I swear! I'm just teaching English to the People's children," I would declare once they broke down the door. Monday, 7:00AM on my first morning off since starting my English teaching job in Shaanxi, China. I peeped through the window in the kitchen to see how many there were.

Well, little did I know, the middle school next door to us does "drills" outdoors for an hour every Monday morning at 7:00, a sort of Orwellian slogan-shouting (similar to the Pledge of Allegiance in American schools). It sometimes also includes exercises, or even practicing English vocabulary words. I tried and failed to sleep awhile longer, and ended up showering while learning about our harmonious Socialist future.

Breakfast is the only meal that I really needed time to "get used to" here. I still won't really eat the traditional 粥 (zhōu, a thin unsalted unsweetened porridge) with salty pickled vegetables. I would prefer to have something sweet, but that would be un-Chinese. Just to be sure, I waited for the drills to end, then went out to get a dozen 包子 (bāozi, steamed buns with meat or vegetable filling) and some grilled sweet potatoes. I love being able to get a fresh-cooked breakfast right around the corner (for less than US$1)!

After breakfast, Brandon and I decided we would go for a bike ride up the mountain. I love my shiny new 飞鸽 (Flying Pigeon, China's heavy-duty utility bicycle). I can carry a passenger on the back seat, cargo on the front bracket, or use the tow attachment to tow a trailer! Bikes are really the way to get around Baoji. They're the most common vehicle for commuting, and parents often use them to take kids to school. You commonly see both parents and one kid on a single bike, the father merrily peddling along! Alot of middle-class families have electric scooters instead, with their obnoxious horns and screeching brakes.

We ride through downtown Baoji, with the normal throngs of people turning their heads to watch the foreign spectacle, even though most of them have probably already seen or met us by now. Every minute or so there is a call of "看！两个老外骑车！老外，Hallo! Hallo Foreigner!" in our direction. We finally get to the part where the road starts to climb, and the people start to thin out; we walk our bikes. There are old ladies hanging jalapeños to dry, or knitting in front of their houses. Those crazy one-cylinder 3-wheeled chinese vehicles occasionally putter past, packed to the brim with cargo. A 10 year old boy carrying chicken cages catches up with us and strikes up a conversation. I'm always happy when people talk to us like normal people, wondering what we're doing and where we're going instead of pointing and staring or yelling something in English. That's one thing I like about living in a smaller city, there seem to be less English-crazed people hunting us down (though we get our fair share).

As we come around a bend we hear the sound of 秦腔 (Qínqiāng, also known as Shaanxi Opera), and I see that we're coming upon a temple. There is a 阴阳图 (Yin-yang) on the top of the arch, so I suppose it's Daoist. As we approach the inside of the temple, we come across a scene that is completely foreign to our American eyes and ears: a small Qinqiang group in the middle plays boisterous music on stringed instruments and various drums and gongs. Fires are lit in clay furnaces. A pack of Pekingese dogs "attacks" us with ferocious yelping, sending us back onto the road. Brandon caught it all on video with his digital camera. We decide it's time to go back down the mountain to get some lunch.

Of course, we'll have noodles for lunch. The noodles in Shaanxi are the best thing since sliced bread. They make them fresh right before cooking them, and there are many varieties. I get 哨子面(sàozi miàn), wiggly noodles in a vinegary, spicy, meaty broth with vegetables. Brandon gets 八宝面 (bābǎo miàn, same noodles but different ingredients, see picture). Two large bowls, 5RMB ($0.63). We both finish all the broth, and head off to work.

We get to work early, and work on our lesson plans. I only have 2 classes that day, a nice break from the 10 I have on Sunday. As usual, a few kids come an hour early, their parents hoping for extra English interaction with the foreign teachers. I talk to a few about their day at school, until they start messing with other teachers' stuff and I send them out to the play area. Our boss comes into the "teacher's lounge" to remind us to put on our "uniforms" while at work, a white sweatshirt stained with the various things that kids age 3-12 like to throw/drool on you, especially whiteboard pen ink. As the trickle of students grows we need to have one person guard the door and window to our lounge from prying hands. I ink up my whiteboard markers, get together my flashcards, take a breath, and face the horde.

Class goes fairly well, though they don't like my new story-writing and illustration activity. They were supposed to ask a partner what they did today, write about it and illustrate, then read it to the class, but they ended up all drawing pictures of each other as pigs for some reason with English stories to go along. Whatever, as long as they are practicing English. We give out stickers for good work in class, pass back homework, and tell the parents how class went (though the foreign teacher is "not allowed" to even let the parents know that we speak and understand Chinese, we're supposed to speak through a translator). One of my kindergartners gives me a delicious meat jerky snack that he apparently had in his mouth for the whole class, which I profusely thank him for, and promptly throw away once he's gone. It's 6:00. We plan dinner with the Chinese teachers, and head out.

火锅 (Hot pot) is Brandon's favorite part about China. I have to admit, it's pretty good. An expert chef makes this delicious broth, sets it on your table over a flame, and you order raw stuff and cook it yourself. I'll talk more about the food here next time.

We talk and eat with our Chinese coworkers for about an hour, and walk home together along the river since we live in the same area. I have to say, those are my favorite things about living here, friends and food. We've made some great friends at work, and the food here is like nothing I've had, and very inexpensive. The whole hotpot dinner cost 100RMB, only $12 for 4 people. Living here is no hardship.