Rite of passage

             Brittany Gilbert turned twenty-one a few days ago.  We threw a surprise party for her—something they don’t have in China. There is a Chinese version of the Happy Birthday song which our Chinese counterparts sang.

Generation gap

             We were asked to perform a group song in SICT’s summer “gala,” a glorified talent show in which mildly students sing into microphones, dance around in scanty costumes, and demonstrate karate.  John Mooneyham served as English speaking emcee.

            

 It was difficult to locate an American song all of us knew, and we finally settled on a neutered version of Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land,” without the last three verses, which are very radical.  Then I learned we were expected to lead the entire assembly in a rousing rendition of “Auld Lang Syne. Brittany, John, Gabriele and Zane, none of whom are past thirty, claimed not to have heard of this song.   They learned it however, though they thought it was corny. 

    

Dear Teacher-- Laoshi

                   In a recent book, Dana Goldstein characterized teaching as America’s most embattled profession.  Teachers are often scapegoats for our social ills, simultaneously blamed for low achievement by impoverished students, pressure upon the most privileged, and the drop in America’s test scores.

                At times, Chinese teachers experience similar pressure, for parents from China’s rising middle class want their children taught by those who can give them a competitive advantage.  But in China this criticism is muted because of the age old respect this culture affords to their teachers.  ‘Laoshi’  (pronounced LOU-SHU) is translated ‘teacher,’ but in addition to naming an occupation, the title carries a deep respect seldom afforded to an American educator.

             Above: Students sing for their teachers at a farewell assembly.

             Below: Gabriela Montes serves as an intern teacher in a Chinese elementary school.

Opening exercises

               Monday mornings, there are formal opening exercises in the elementary school where we are working complete with brass band, student led flag salute, and a short play about the virtues of cooperation.

              Some students dress in the school uniform; some simply have the red tie. If not, they may wear the school pin with the Communist Party insignia.

                       

                Little girls in red dresses welcomed us in memorized English and brought us small gifts.

The universal language

               On Sunday, Wang Ping invited us to her home.  Both her Liu, her husband, and her daughter play the erhu, a small string instrument the size of a violin which rests on the musician’s lap like a cello.  Its high-pitched sound is beautiful, resembling the human voice. 

                 John Mooneyham, who plays both guitar and bass violin, managed to play a recognizable tune on the erhu.  Meanwhile, Liu had a go at the guitar.