我想吻一个吻题

I have a fifth grader who kisses me everyday after class. The first time, I had told her I liked her grasshopper eraser while I was walking around checking their work. I mean, this is the coolest eraser I’ve ever seen; it’s a life-size fucking grasshopper. I said 我喜欢这个, and after class she told me to have it. I refused but she insisted, and now I have this cool-ass eraser. Anyway, then she asked, ‘wo keyi wen yi xia ma?’ Me thinking it was the 问问题的问, so I was like sure! I love questions. But no, she meant 亲吻的吻 and kissed my cheek, saying ‘I love you’ in English. I asked my local teacher friends if this was normal and they just shrugged. Now she doesn’t even ask: she waits for all the other kids to file out while trying to make small talk, and then kisses me before I even have the chance to say ‘I’m fine thanks.’ It’s bizarre and probably sweet, but when your whole relationship revolves around kisses and I love yous, it feels pretty cheap, you know?

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.

Reppin' the Imperialists with One Choice Fashion Accessory

A good friend came to 听课 and snapped these photos of my 6th(1) class. I love when people come to observe because my kids behave like little pups. Featuring my dearest, most beloved, functional smartboard.

This girl is so smart, so sassy, and such a leader. She has a better command of the classroom than I do.

That moment when I realize I'm completely unqualified as a teacher

TPR for "is"

These kids are awesome, but never have I ever seen them all paying attention unless there's a video camera behind them.

TPR for "tofu"

Sunsets Are Setting Suns

Thinking about my month away from China, children, and working, I keep coming back to my inability to distinguish between leaving and arriving. I keep thinking how surprisingly unsurprising it was to be ambivalent to the changes in landscape. As soon as every plane landed, as every bus arrived, I was home. Perhaps the planes and the buses were a sort of home too.

Riding away in a little van, I looked out over town and cried. I thought about my sense of belonging in my Chinese community, and how I would miss the mountains 高黎贡山. But as we drove to my parents’ new home, a cab driver introduced me to Seattle. I was exhausted, but the newness of the city was invigorating.

A month later, I looked out of the little porthole feeling a piercingly blunt melancholy. I thought about my sense of belonging in the Pacific Northwest, and how I would miss Mount Rainier and the Olympic range. But hopelessly wandering the streets of 昆明 Kunming looking for my hostel, I realized how excited I was to hear new stories from old friends.

There is some part of me, however, that is different. Upon hearing how it felt to be back, my mother wrote, “but you’re not the same.” How can I deny the simplicity and veracity of this statement? All I know is that adaptation is my constant. My surroundings will always change. The people I know will always change. But I will always change with them, and in that there is a sameness, a reassurance, a home.

I’ll leave you with two images. I was riding the bus back from downtown Seattle over the floating bridge, looking out on the lake with tears in my eyes. The sky was oppressively broad, wispy clouds shone orangey pink, and old Rainier radiated like the sun. The second is my arrival in 永安 Yong’an. The 菜花 canola flowers have begun to bloom, making the fields so vibrantly yellow it’s almost intoxicating. A dark ragged line of mountains carved itself into the sky, and a vortex of purple red clouds hinted at the sun’s casual departure.

Some Awkward Pics of Me Teaching

Who likes beef? [crickets]

But who likes cabbage? [everyone and their mom]

This is my 'I will cut you' stance

Sticker selection--most serious part of class

Kids don't know what goes on at the back

I received this high five graciously despite what this photo would have you believe

Elementary Schoolers Can Cook Better Than I Ever Will

I first heard about a mysterious picnic last Friday because my last two classes were canceled. I was told that the kids were going to work together to cook a meal; 1st grade with 6th grade, 2nd with 5th, and 3rd with 4th. That day they met to figure out what dishes to make, who would cook what, who would bring the knives, chopsticks, bowls, etc. I worked the crowd seeing this a prime time to review our recently-learned food vocab. 

I approached a group of sixth grade boys who ran up to me yelling, "Miss K will you please eat with us?" 

I was a little taken off guard. What were teachers doing during this time? Were we going to different places? 

"Sure!" I replied. I saw it as a nice opportunity to bond with these typically withdrawn students— they all sit at the back and rarely participate.

"But you guys know I don't eat meat right?"

"It's no problem teacher, we'll make potato! And tofu!" Said in English with TPR <3.

I then got assaulted by 6th grade girls who asked me to eat with them as well.  I visited every group as they were planning, and they all asked the same thing. I was really confused as to where they were going and how this would work.

On Wednesday after lunch, everyone started preparing their things to go. This is when I learned that we were all going to the same place, apparently very beautiful. I noticed that kids had packed copious amounts firewood, as well as metal stands.

Everyone lined up behind two red flags and we trekked out into the fields past water buffalo, over bridges, and through mud. We arrived at a rocky river bank where the kids began building stoves with stones and firewood. Brilliance ensued. 

Chopping beef

Cabbage simmering

Green beans, 欧笋, and pork

Washing vegetables in the river

Zack cookin' with fire

Olivia tending to the wok

Banquet fit for kings

高黎贡山 and the moon hanging out being beautiful

I wandered around taking pictures, receiving apples and tangerines from every student I came across, but I made it back to those sixth grade boys just in time to skip some stones before dinner. They made potato and tofu as promised, but also cabbage, green peppers, and bean sprouts.

Stone serving rice

View of my school on the way home

I'm still amazed by everything my students did that day. Taking turns carrying firewood on the trek there, building fires, washing vegetables, chopping meat, frying tofu, boiling cabbage, serving the dishes on beautiful stone tables, and all as a team. I'm pretty sure I never turned on a stove before I was in high school, let alone build a fire to do it. I am consistently stunned by what kids are expected to do here, and how adept they prove themselves to be.