A Few Words of Advice to the New Foreign Fellow

Alright, there’s a pretty solid chance that some other American will come riding through my school gates on a white horse, here to save the day.

When my local teachers broke the news, they expected me to celebrate, “明年另外一个外国朋友要来。你应该很高兴!”

“不知道高不高兴,” I said smiling nervously, “可能他非常优秀，你们就最喜欢他。但是如果他差死了，我就不喜欢.” This is both in jest and quite serious. If this new fellow has immaculate Chinese, prior teaching experience, a 认真 work ethic, or an inkling of humor, they’re going to be a huge hit with the other teachers. But if they’re a really annoying slacker, well I definitely don’t want to deal with that either. Can’t I just be the prized foreign teacher forever?

But I figure if this asshole is going to show up at my school, they should at least play by my rules. So I've taken the time to write a few tips to this lucky (doomed) new fellow.

Tip One: You’re Taking the Fifth Graders

SIXTH AND FOURTH ARE MINE. You hear me? Mine. The current fourth graders made me cry once, so like, you can have them.

Tip Two: Be Male

Normally I would never make such sexist demands, but you see, I have a pretty good thing going with the female circle. I’m not popular exactly, but let’s just say that the people who matter like me. The male circle, however, is a complete enigma. If you’re really going to exist at my school, you could at least be doing detective work into the life of 吴老师. Does he have a wife or kids? Does he have joy or sorrow? Does he own footwear other than house slippers? This is a tall task. Good luck.

Tip Three: Fall in Love With 彭智文

Now this may or may not contrast with tip two (who knows), but if you’re the hero I imagine you to be, you can make it happen. My current insurmountable co-fellow is a humble genius, a polite powerhouse, and a marathoner in everything he does. So just get the 谈恋爱 over with so that everyone will stop insisting I do. And he won’t be 班主人 next year! (Read: plenty of time for courtship.)

Tip Four: Hide Your Hidden Talents

I don’t care if you can juggle flaming torches while playing the cello, dude—keep that shit to yourself. These kids love me because my thumbs bend backwards, no one needs your fancy yo-yo tricks. Isn’t this the directionless time in your life to take up a new hobby? Perhaps ukuleles interest you…

Tip Five: Bring a Coat, etc.

No one warned me that 云南 actually gets really fucking cold—don’t go into a glacial depression like I did. Charm the locals and learn some local dialect. Start planning your October break now before the prices go up. Kids like stickers but China doesn’t have them, stock up in the states. Or planners, bring a planner. Wash your underwear in boiling water sans socks. Buy things from 永安 locals and you might not have to buy them at all. Be happy that you’ve been chosen to teach at the best school, in the best city, in the best region. Welcome! I hate you.

On 高黎贡山 Gaoligong Mountain

A couple of weekends ago, good old 彭智文 asked me if I wanted to climb 高黎贡山 (Gaoligong Mountain), probably because I’ve been asking since we arrived. It’s that massive majestic mountain range making daily guest appearances on my instagram. All of the American 腾冲 fellows, and most of the Chinese fellows signed on, making us a fit group of nine hikers. Early Saturday morning we stuffed into a van and rode to the base of the mountain.

It was a difficult morning of steps, steeps, stairs, and rocks. My pack was really heavy, which was obviously a disadvantage; I’d brought clothes for sleeping, clothes for the next day, a bathing suit, a towel, 10 bananas, two dozen unidentified stone-fruit, a few liters of water, dates, pumpkin seeds, keys, glasses, tp—a hundred too many things. Though it was a never-ending slow slog, everyone was mutually and simultaneously pumped, supportive, and exhausted. Finally we got to the top where we found a windy field, prime for photo-taking.

 

After some food and rest, we spent five hours trying to ride gravity, but mostly falling, down the mountain. Although it was easier, I was on a mission to finish; around 10am I had felt the first pangs of a dehydrated, caffeine-deprived headache, and by the afternoon, it was a fully-developed, skull-splitting agony. Never skimp on water: lesson learned.

Once we reached our paradise of clean beds and hot food, we turned right back around and hiked to a natural hot spring. It had been a long day, but we soldiered down the path nonetheless. The sun was setting when we crossed a bridge over a waterfall to a shallow temperate plash. It was the size of a swimming pool, and the water was clear and warm—a gentle end to our arduous feat.