missed class

My phone was ringing like crazy, and I’m irritably thinking, “I’m not picking up, stop ringing.”  There’s no voice mail here, so it’s a common practice to just keep calling and calling and calling.

I’m face down on a massage table with a blind guy a little too vigorously working on a knot in my lower back that I didn’t even know existed, and I’m wishing I’d studied some words I might need in this situation.  All I can remember how to say is, “Don’t push me,” useful for getting on the bus.  I decide to let it go.

Jason’s on the next table, half asleep, waiting his turn, occasionally rallying for a translation, “He says something about your lower back.”  It’s my hill running legs that need the work and my motivation to find a good massage place.

A few weeks ago, my tutor and I search for and found this place: blind massage, walking distance from school, really clean by Chinese standards, in a good neighborhood, no prostitution, and cheap ($5 for an hour).  I’m not willing to go alone, and I love Jason because he is always game for getting out and his Chinese is great.

Eventually, I pick up the phone.  It’s another teacher in my department, one who often communicates and translates school stuff for me.

She’s desperate, “Ann! Where are you?”

“Off campus.”

“You missed your class!”

I’m baffled, “What class?”  I used to teach a class on Friday afternoon, but it was changed to Thursday, during the lunch/rest hours, because so many students were missing it.  They leave early to spend the weekend at home.

“Oh, didn’t you get my message on QQ?  I sent it 2 days ago.”  QQ is a China communication lifeline, a website that kind of blends email, IM, facebook, google docs, and who knows what else.  I have an account, but I’m rarely on it for many reasons, but mostly because I don’t read Chinese and navigating it is really frustrating.

She continues, “You have a new class for 3+1 freshman students, reading and writing.  We have to reschedule it for Sunday.”  3+1 is a program where students study at this university for 3 years, and then go to the UK to study one year.  They get degrees from both universities.  It was the sophomore 3+1 class that I used to teach on Fridays.  I guess the scheduler is thinking that the freshman won’t leave early on Fridays to go home?

I respond with the PC trained part of my brain:  “OK”

Here’s the crazy part: these 3+1 classes have no curriculum, no scope and sequence, no book, nothing.  I’m amused because the dean this week asked me to do a teacher training next semester on reading and writing, exactly like she asked me to do back in September when I did a training on WICR.  Now, I’m not sure what she expects.  Apparently WICR wasn’t enough, and she told me the teachers want to observe me teaching this class.  Well, at least I’m on solid ground with experience teaching with WICR.

Another surprise came on Thursday when I was told I’d be giving a speech to the freshmen on Saturday morning.  Who knows on what topic.  The PC warned us about this possibility, telling us to have prepared at all times: a lesson, a workshop, a song, and a speech.  Maybe there were other things, but I don’t remember. 

A speech in the morning.  A new class in less than 48 hours.  Right.

my new best friend

The good news is I have a new space heater, thanks to my counterpart teacher’s guanxi.  I have a new used mattress, thanks to my own tenacious persistence and probably the little gifts I give the 2 workers who help me.  I have a lot more mold advice, thanks to my good friends and the PC China doctor.  I have a seemingly mold-free bedroom, but I’m suspicious.  It’s like finding one tick on you, and then you feel like you’re covered in ticks.  I’m eyeing everything, “Is THAT mold?” 

On my honey: "Everything new is fine.
Coffee is lovely without cups.
I am lonely without you.
Come into my heart, I do love it."

2 guys carried this across campus
 and up 6 fights of stairs

salvation from Judy