We spend part of the class learning how to use new vocabulary, part of it (slowly) reading characters, and the vast majority going off topic and chatting in broken Chinese.
In China, learning the language is the fastest way to feel like you’re being somewhat integrated into society. Having the appearance of a Westerner makes you stand out like a sore thumb, even in cosmopolitan Shanghai, and not being able to speak Chinese just isolates you further. There is also immense satisfaction in seeing the look on someone’s face (especially when it’s one of my students) when they first hear me speak Chinese. ‘Ting de dong! Ting de dong!’ they say, as though sounding an alarm, which translates as ‘Hear and understand! Hear and understand!’
After class, my bicycle and I fight our way through hoards of cyclists and motorbike riders, who unashamedly ignore everyone else on the road, and give me strange looks when I call out “Hey, what are you doing? Watch where you’re going!” while suffering a mild panic attack.
Once safely at school, I teach English until late afternoon or evening. It’s hard to remember that my students in the lower levels are adults, when they fight to clean the board, and repeat every word I say, in singsong voices. Teaching the higher levels involves facilitating and encouraging complex discussion. These discussions have taught me most of what I know about Chinese culture, from festivals to sexual prejudice.
Eating out and going to bars with friends is something that I find a lot of time for. And massages, which are ridiculously affordable. When I’m not recovering from a Shanghai hangover (they are lethal, due to the chemicals in many Chinese beers) I catch up on my travelogue, www.oldworldwandering.com , which describes the overland journey that got me here, from London.
Shanghai is a dynamic city where you can meet a complete mixture of nationalities, some of whom have been in China for years. Others come and go in this fast-paced, perpetually changing city, where being bored would be quite a feat.
