Great Days

The strangest thing has happened. I think Carina and I are becoming friends.
Recently, Carina lost a tennis match and her family has blamed it on everything from her English class taking up too much of her time to the racket and even that listening to too much music has caused her to forget her tennis. Because of this, they have asked me to bring down the pressure and remove all punishment from my classes. They have also asked me to make the class more fun and incorporate more games and less work. So I have done just that. We don't get as much classwork done, but Carina is talking, which is a huge improvement. That was always the biggest problem with her; getting her talking. It's the best way she can learn and practice and it shows me where her problems lie. But more than that: it has calmed her and something new is happening.

Lately, she has really opened up. She likes to talk to me about what she's worried about, what she really wants to do and is making a habit of bringing up new topics to talk about all on her own, confiding in me and wanting to hang out with me for longer periods of time.

Today I helped her put together her FaceBook account online. She ended up sitting on my lap, interchanging who typed out the information. Sometimes she would type it out and I'd make corrections, and other times, she would tell me what to write and I'd correct her speech.
In the middle of it while we were waiting for pictures to upload she asked me what kind of clothes I like and told me what her favorite brand names were in order of preference.
Near the end she said. "Okay, I go to sleep now." and laid her head on my shoulder, curling up on my lap. Coming from someone who used to feign hatred of me and refused to be near me, this is a huge change. I sang to her for a while and then she talked to me about babies and whether or not I wanted one.


I feel bad for this girl sometimes. It was hard to sympathize with her when she was being a brat, but I've gotten to know her better and I am beginning to understand her. Carina just wants to be loved really. I know that sounds cheesy and naive, but it's true. She rarely ever sees her mother and claims that she doesn't like her.

Her relationship with her father is strange at best. New things are always coming into the house; a new patio floor, a new couch that looks almost exactly the same as the last one, a slightly bigger bathtub, and a constant stream of tennis hats and clothing. Her father buys her what she wants and needs and tends to give in to what she asks for, but I think that's the majority of their relationship. Part of Carina's fighting attitude I think comes from her relationship with her dad. She rarely sees him or gets attention from him, but she's learned that if she's not happy, he looks at her long enough to buy her happiness or make the problem go away. I doubt she ever wanted a new bathtub, but when she brought up how small it was and that she didn't like it, she had his attention, and probably only pushed the subject because it worked so well to get him to talk to her. So now she has a new bathtub. The same probably happened with the couch. When the couch and bathtub came, she wasn't happy about it; she hardly even looked at it. It wasn't the couch that she was getting, because she already got what she wanted and that was her father's attention. So whining, complaining and demanding works for her relationship with her father and it's become habit. I don't think she likes it either.


She didn't want to like me. She tried everything she could not to and sometimes pretended not to like me but poorly like kids do, you know, the angry face with a hand covering a smile that keeps disobeying her.


I believe you have the power to create your own character and that defects are not put upon you but rather learned and developed by your willingness to let them go on, so she could have found another way, but she didn't. She got used to the arguing and screaming and crying because it brought results.

She's learning something else with me.

When she's nice and carying and open with me, I give back smiles and long conversations, gifts and praise. When she's patient and friendly, we have great days, and she feels great for it. When her friends come back home after a good class, she waltzes around the house and tries to lead the others in something fun. Today she told everyone to speak English and made a kind of game out of it. She brightens up and somehow seems larger when these days go well.

I don't think she has many friends, and she acts worried and sad when we talk about her family. She likes to talk about her grandmother but that's it. I was so angry and frustrated with her before because she gave nothing and never helped to make anything easier. What I didn't realize was that she was feinging strength with all that fighting to cover up the fact that she was so lonely and insecure.

The other day, she confided in me that she wants to learn how to play the violin. She likes tennis and that is important to her, but I wonder if her father knows that she has an interest in music. It has become her escape. She listens to music as often as she can, plugging in her ear buds and nodding to people when they talk at her.

Am I helping or getting in the way?

I don't know what her father will think of the new structure. It seems clear that Carina will be telling him that she likes class again, but whether or not that makes him happy, I'm no longer clear on. I know he gives her what she wants, but he also wants his money's worth and maybe he'll think we've gone too far with fun and will no longer see the value in it.


Where would I leave her then? She's let her guard down with me and has started to show care and friendship. She trusts me and wants to open up. I'd hate for her to learn that doing that makes people go away. I feel like this is a volatile sittuation. I'm not an expert on children or their disasociated fathers. Despite the problems in the beginning and everything that has happened, I can't pretend that I don't want to help this girl. She is strong in there. She's competitive and wants to be seen as a smart, beautiful and capable girl. She hates not being in-the-know and not being the controlling factor in a room. This could become a very positive thing for her if she learns how to use it and balance it with some humility. If she's not constantly battling for attention, she calms down and is quiet the lovely little girl. This Carina is nothing like the one I fought with for so long.

I'm at a loss here. The wonderful vibe with her is so strange and new from what it used to be like with her. If she keeps this up, I'll end up caring about her and I don't know what that would mean.


Erica (left) Carina (Right)


LisaTing (Left) Carina (Center) and Erica (right)

Justice League and Hangman

I haven't been doing a good job of keeping up with this blog, but teaching Carina hasn't been something I've wanted to dwell on. I don't mean to make it sound terrible, it's just that after a few hours of temper tantrums and misunderstandings, I don't feel the need to go over it again once I'm home free.

The main focus with Carina has been her attitude. She has a complete lack of respect and doesn't like authority or discipline. This made my M.O. with her very difficult for her to get her head around. Unfortunately, my discipline only works as far as she will let it. If she gets too used to it, she'll just ignore it and it doesn't matter how much work you pile on as discipline if the kid simply refuses to do it. So I've had to be patient and pick my battles.

It's gotten to the point where she will pretty much do her work without too much of a fight which makes it so we can move past that and start enjoying the class. This is where I can start making the class more interesting again. In the beginning, all of my attempts at games or creative teaching was waisted on a kid who was determined not to learn or have fun. Rhyming, cartoons, trivia games, lessons based on the Justice League. That's right, Carina found a way to ruin a class based on The Justice League: she's committed.
Fortunately, she got hooked. When my Justice League DVD ran out, I brought over Teen Titans and Superman and she put her hands on her hips.
"Nooo!!! I want more Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman and...what's his name?"
"Martian Manhunter?"
"No. The really good cool one."
"Batman?"
"Yeah, Batman."
I couldn't help smiling. Batman is definitely the really good cool one. She hit me in my soft spot. Batman is my all time favorite super hero; the real hero with real courage; the man who faced all of his human weaknesses and flaws and came out a titan with an eye for justice.
I finally have a reward that I can give her and be happy about. Watching Justice League gives her concepts of attitude, morals, values, English phrases and best of all: a comparison when I'm trying to show her how important Character and Cool are. "Cool" is a very persuasive tool for a 13 year old.
Today was a nice class, but I have to be careful. I can't expect the next one to be as good. The last time we had a great class and we really bonded, I was very happy and I relaxed, expecting things to be going uphill, which set me up for real disappointment when she laid on the super tantrum the next time around. It's a give and take and takes a lot of patience and foresight. Today she jumped at finishing all her work early and we ended up staying 30 minutes after class, playing Hangman with vocabulary words from the latest lesson. She wasn't even a bad sport when she lost the tie breaker question. I have a really hard time not buying it hook line and sinker, elated that I've finally gotten through to the kid, but I have to or the up and down will kill this job fast.

We didn't have class for a week because she went to Hong Kong for a series of tournaments. She won all of them and came home with five trophies, including the one that calls her the new "Grandmaster in the 12 and under category". Before she went she told me how nervous she was and how she thought she wasn't any good. Maybe the reaffirmation helped her somewhat. I couldn't go with her because I was waiting on my visa renewal. Maybe I'll be going to her next one. So far, this job has not been what it was advertised as, but we'll see what happens from here.

LiShi the Bulldog Driver

Until I find a new apartment in Jiangmen, I am making trips between Zhongshan and Jiangmen every week. It's not a long trip, only 45 minutes (I've driven that far in LA just for a good cup of joe) and for the first two weeks, I was being driven by Mr. Ma and his personal driver in their Hong Kong SUV. Hong Kong abides by the British driving rules, so the driver's seat is on the right side which I'm still getting used to.
At then end of the first week, Mr. Ma brought me to the same seafood restaurant he brought me to on our first meal together for dinner before we headed back for Zhongshan (and this time insisted the cooks take the heads off all the fish so as to make the American more comfortable. It was a nice gesture, but after living in China for two years, I wouldn't be put off with a cows head next to the beef).
On the way, we picked up a man of giant proportions and it took all my will not to use the many ways I know in Chinese to comment on his size. Being able to speak sometimes poses it's own problems because now that you know how to say "You're as big as a house", you have to know NOT to say it when your new boss is watching your every move.
This man's name is Lishi, which is easy to remember for me because he looks just like a dull witted Bulldog who desperately needs to be leashed.
When I first met this giant version of a Chinese man, I was not impressed, mostly because he was pandering to Mr. Ma like a lonely puppy dog who wanted nothing more than to be spanked or pet by his owner: either would do at this point, just to see his masters attention directed at him. He had come with us to dinner because Mr. Ma was in the market for a new driver and this was as good a time as any for an interview. I understand wanting to impress you prospective boss, but I haven't seen so much ass kissing since I was in West Hollywood. Ever time Mr. Ma was half way finished with his tea or coke, Lishi would get up from the other side of the very large round dim sum table to fee fi fo fun his way around to refill Mr. Ma's glass. This was made worse by the fact that every time he did this, Mr. Ma insisted he serve me first. He did this entire dance with his chin shoved into his chest and his gigantic shoulders curled in. Seeing this on such giant man was almost comical, and might have been the reason it stood out so much for me. I realize now that many people pander to Mr. Ma. This happens with anyone who has money: a swarm of well wishing friends collect under your coat tails and shine your shoes in the hope that you'll see the reflection of their face on your shiny new loafers and think of them on your way to the top.
I realize I'm being too harsh, and I felt like eating my mental words later, but I just couldn't help it. He was there for a job interview and how he acted when he first met his potential boss would set up the pattern of exactly what the rest of his employment with Mr. Ma would be like. He was setting up a job of being a welcome mat, a pissant, a yes man, a pet. I hated it.

Mr. Ma did indeed hire Lishi the Bulldog driver and I've had a few chances to talk with him on the 45 minute drives back and fourth from work, which gave me ample opportunity to practice my Chinese and served as a reminder that I needed to learn more.
Lishi is a big teddy bear. He is a competitive martial artist and told me in his big fluff ball smile that he got second place in a competition just the day before our last car ride. When he's happy, he's the epitome of happy, like someone put all the joy and excitement from every kid on Christmas morning into this one giant man. He bubbles when he's happy, he stammers and jitters when he's nervous or doesn't understand, and with how extreme he is with these emotions, I don't want to be around to see what he does when he's angry. No, that's a lie. I'd pay top dollar to see him explode. I'm sure it would be exactly like watching the hulk in a fit of rage. He's about as big.
Lishi doesn't speak any English. He's attempted to say only a handful of English words; among them were "hello", "thank you" and "fuck you" which he tried to say jokingly to a car that nearly killed us on our first run to Zhonshan. It came out "Foocha ew!" with a heavy German ch on fuck. I told him that to say it properly he had to use his hand and showed him. He exploded with laughter at the little (in comparison) white girl flipping off cars on the street in his back seat.

It turns out I relate with the guy a little as I've been there before. He doesn't give two shits about this job, he just needs to pay the bills while he works on what he does care about, which I believe is winning every martial arts competition and becoming the world's biggest man. Oh, that's the other thing he said, when I finally did comment on the fact that his arms are twice the size of my thighs, he said "I am man", and kind of laugh roared.
He's offered to teach me Kung Fu, which I'd love to do, but he lives in Shenzhen, and I just don't see that happening.
I'll see what I can do about getting a picture on here one of these days.

Ji hao de - Perfect

September 12^th, 2007

I've spent two weeks here now; a total of eight days. I've had the chance now to feel out the characters that fill this house and have tried to find a way for mine to work with theirs. There's a two fold bridge to cross here; the bridge between student and teacher and the bridge over the language gap that you'll find anywhere in China. These bridges are always there with this kind of job, but Carina has made it her own. She's personalized the problem, adding her idiosyncrasies into the mix. She's not a hard nut to crack. I understand her and her position. She's a twelve year old girl with a lot on her plate, with very little time to herself beyond the two or three hours crammed in after meals. She's also the daughter of a wealthy Chinese man, and is accustomed to getting what she wants. She's not only a rich kid, but she's also a girl, and girls have different expectations here. It's not usual to push them too hard when they protest.

In China, it is unlucky to have a girl, as a boy can bring more to the family; he can bring in money to support the family with plentiful work and he can expand the family by bringing a woman into his bed and furthering the family name. A woman, on the other hand, is not expected to do meaningful or well paying work and is only expected to work until she finds a husband, at which point she leaves the family. She does not add to her family; she adds to his. The woman will always be close to the family, and her grandmother will often raise her children, but it's the general view that a daughter cannot provide as much as a son can.

If China had the technology, they'd offer gender selection in pregnancies, and the gender ratios would topple to one side.

Mr. Ma has five daughters. I don't know how he views this or what response he's gotten from his colleagues and friends. I do know that he pushes all of his girls to do well. His eldest daughter went to America and speaks English like a native. His youngest, he is determined to make into a tennis champion.

Mr. Ma pushes his daughters more than most that I've seen in China, but she's still his little girl, and when she puts up too much of a fuss, the general understanding is to let her win. I haven't done that. I have disciplined Carina twice now in these two weeks for the same reason. When she doesn't want to do something, she'll stop speaking in any language at all and start whining and screaming, stomping and glaring. At this point, I can't discern what the problem is and can therefore not fix a thing. When I talk to her at this point, she'll completely ignore me and refuse to respond. This is the definition of rude. If she doesn't want to do the work because it's too hard, or because she doesn't understand or because she's too tired or bored, she needs to tell me. I don't care what the reason is as long as she opens her mouth to communicates with me. After all, it's not filling in answers on a sheet of paper that will really help her improve her English, but rather testing out her English while trying to express herself.

Each time she did this, I took something away that she liked. The first time, I took away the movies and told her that when she wanted to apologize I'd give her one back, which I did. This time I took away all the mp3 players and told her when she wanted to do the work with me, I'd give her one and when she apologized, I'd give her the other.

I have given her one.

Today in class, she attempted not to speak at all and wouldn't respond when I explained to her why I took the mp3 players away and what she had to do to get them back, so I started the class anyway. At first, we answered questions by having her point at the right answer and shaking her head “yes” or “no”. Soon, she was reading the one word answers out loud and before she knew it, she was reading the whole poem and answering in full sentences. I think she caught herself in the end because she stopped talking again. It's an hour and a half class, and after one hour, she was getting tired and realized that she had been having fun talking with me and that she had forgotten all about the silent treatment. I thanked her for working with me on the poems and gave her one mp3 player, telling her that while I'm sad that she clammed up again, I was happy that she worked with me and told her how well she did.

“It's perfect! You don't want to learn, but you're doing a great job.” She smiled and rolled over, hiding her face in the blanket.

She still wouldn't talk to me for a while, so I'd circle a question and read it to her . “Here, answer this one.” Then I'd walk away, and wait for her to roll over and write the answer so I could correct it and circle the next question. Despite the fact that she wasn't speaking, there was a weird kind of communication going on, an agreement that we'd keep doing the work as long as I gave her the time to warm back up to me and open up her mouth on her own accord. Soon enough, she was reading those questions out loud too and we ended the class with her reading the finished poem to me. She was in a good mood and hung around after class to doodle in my book in English. On the front page, it now says in red ink:

My name is Sienna.

And below that it says

Perfect

The truth is that she wants to learn. She's uncomfortable because she's behind and doesn't know how to express herself and Erica can speak so much better than her. The competition often helps, but it also puts her in a pugnacious mood. When Erica isn't in class, Carina is okay with going slower, which might be a good thing as I can notice easier what parts she doesn't really understand, and she might not react as badly to not knowing the answer when there's not a friend around to witness and judge her mistakes. She needs to learn that it's okay to have the wrong answer as long as she wants to learn the right one.

If this goes the right way, I just might start to really enjoy this. For now, it's not half bad, and it certainly gives me something to write about. I understand that many teachers have come and gone here because they couldn't handle Carina. It's too bad that they didn't give her a chance. She's a handful, but she's just a kid and she needs a chance to learn. It will be difficult for me to motivate her and push her without turning her off, but it's something I'll have to learn. That is my job, after all.

Erica's Cross

Strange new discovery. Today Erica turned in her homework for what she wanted to be when she grows up. It was supposed to be written in rhyme, but it was their first homework assignment and rhyming is new to them, so it will take time.

I was expecting a lot of things; I expected her to talk about tennis and animating and I expected it to be pretty well written, but I did not expect to see The Cross in her work. This was her entry.

When I grow up I will be a famous tennis player. And at USOPEN, Wimbledon, I'll get a championship. When I'm rich I will be an animator. I will make great movies that story is in Bible. That movies will convey a gospel. And many people will obey god. (there is a crown drawn over “god”)

When I get older, I will buy a house. Like king's palace (same crown is over king)

And I'll live there happily.

(Is my dream is too Big :-D )

A lot of the words Erica and Carina used in their homework I don't think they knew beforehand. Carina admitted to using a dictionary to find her words, but that being so, it still means that they both knew the meaning in their native language before they consulted the translating dictionary. I mention this because of the use of the word “Obey”.

I knew Erica was religious because she wears a little gold cross on a necklace which is very rare in China. Someone may or may not be religious, but they never go around showing it off. I wondered if she knew about China's stance on religion, and if she did, I can't help but respect the courage. I'm sure she's alone at school, as some of them must point it out and pepper her with questions. Possibly even teachers ridicule her for wearing it.

I didn't think god would come into topic in a class assignment though, and that it did, shows just how much of her life is pervaded with the notion of God. I'm used to seeing children and adults adorned in religious jewelry and attending ceremonies simply because it is the way of their family. It's not so much their necklace, but the one their mother makes them wear and that they've had on for so many years they've forgotten that it was there. I thought this was possible with Erica, but that does not lead to one brining up God unaided.

I asked her to tell me what she wanted to be when she grew up, not what she thought about the Gospel, and she has no reason to believe that I'm religious, so I doubt she'd be pandering.

It was the use of the word “obey” that really caught me though. I could imagine a child using the word “love”: “everyone will love god”, but obey? It sounds like a much older, strict little woman is in there; a woman who is somehow angry that not everyone obeys her god.

I think what throws me off about it the most is that I find myself looking at her differently. The majority of people you meet in America are religious in some way or another and it never makes me really think twice, but rarely are they children, and rarely are they on their own. I guess not seeing a parent dragging her along her religious journey is putting me off a bit. This girl is on her own in a way. She's not working and paying her own bills, but no one is raising her anymore. There's the Ayi and there's the other girls she lives with to help shape her ideals, but there is no child rearing here. I suppose 12 isn't too early for all that, but I would think that the ideals our parents try to instill in us are still independent of us and are apt to wane when we're on our own so early.

It's possible that my time in China has effected me on this topic. I'm no longer used to people talking about religion in the open and the only time it is brought up is either in theory or in whispers. You have to be careful about religion here. I've never once seen someone persecuted or arrested or anything of the sort for their religion, and none of my foreign friends have seen actions that would give reason for our hushed conversations, but the knowledge is there through fact and advice: do not publicize your religion. You are allowed to believe anything you want as long as you do it in your own home and do not attempt to convert people. China does, however, promote the idea that it's better to not have any religious belief at all.

I've met a few Christians on this side of the planet, and each time I have, it's put me off a bit. My old boss was religious, though newly so. He held Christian meetings at his English school every Sunday and had asked me if I wanted to join. Holding religious meetings of any kind in a business establishment is against the rules and I'm sure if the authorities found out, his school would be closed down, but I didn't mention anything. I did, however, try to bow out as unnoticed as possible when I came by the school during one of these meetings to pick up my pay.

There were many foreigners there, foreigners I had never seen before, and I couldn't curb the instinct to run. An American Christian holding out their hand to greet you is holding out their hand to bring you in as well, and I wanted nothing of it. I avoid Christians I think, and if my friends or colleagues happen to be Christian, I avoid the topic.

These were typical looking American Christians: placid white skin with touches of aggravated pink splotches from the China sun, bright blond hair that verged on white, round squishy bodies adorned with bright flowery shirts and skirts, under bright speckled faces with big toothy smiles. I have a distinct memory of the tall older man getting up to greet me. As I was walking by, he looked at me and his eyes locked on. He continued to talk to his wife for a moment while not loosing track of me then stood up and honed in. I don't think he even handled the niceties of ending the conversation with his wife first. With his head down and his hand out, he came up to me and reached for a hand. I wanted to resist, but there was his hand, seeking mine out, and if I didn't take it I'd have to feign a psychological predisposition against hand shaking or I'd effectively be logged in as atheist and they'd start their converting post haste.

The way he looked at me, with his head down, made me feel like I had just been locked in and I too felt like I couldn't look away. He had caught me in a net and was dragging me in squirming. His introduction didn't seem casual at all, but intent and purposeful. I was a potential notch on the Christian tally, and he wanted to bring me in himself. He mentioned that he hadn't seen me before and I told him I wasn't there for the meeting, I was just grabbing my check because I worked at the school. “Oh.” His face slackened and I felt like he was inspecting me suspiciously. He still had my hand. Maybe he wasn't going to let go. There was a good chance he wanted to keep talking.

“I didn't know Joshua was holding this meeting. I'll remember for next Sunday, but I have to go. I'm late.”

At that, he shook my hand again (it had sat sill and tacky in his hand since he had grabbed it, not moving or shaking my hand at all, but simply holding it, keeping me there), then he smiled at me with a warm welcoming air of which you see when two old friends meet and then, finally, he let go. I had to stop myself from sighing and quickly went on my way.

Only half of what I had said to him was a lie. I did indeed remember it for next Sunday and every Sunday afterwards when I'd avoid that school like the plague. The lie was that I had been busy. I had all the time in the world that day, but alas, fate would have it that I'm allergic to Christian socials.

I might be a little jagged on the subject of Christians. Maybe I've just met too many of them.

I'd hate to look at Erica differently just because she's religious though. I suppose you look at someone differently each time you learn something new about them, but I don't have enough information to judge on this topic. I think if it didn't involve the Christian Cross and the Gospels I'd be less ill disposed about it.

She's such an odd child. She's twelve years old and speaks Korean, Chinese and English. She spent two years I think in Sweden attending an English language school and is now devoting nearly every waking hour to becoming a tennis champion. When I take a step back and look at it, that all fits nicely with a Christian upbringing, but it fits so much better without one. How many tennis players have I met that were Christian? How many of them just loved the socials and pink party dresses? It is the type.

She wants to be an animator. She excels in school and language and is determined and hard working. I think I respect her. I sympathize for what I have in common with her and envy her for her better start and clear mind. I don't want her to be Christian, I've realized. I'd like to teach her and help her in her direction. I'd like to see her open up and become more and more talented over the time I know her. I don't want her to know that I'm “Not Christian” (it's nearly a religion on it's own now, the way people talk about it), because I don't want to push her away, and I'd instinctively like to avoid the topic all together.

I'm trying to balance things out as is. I need to find ways to get closer to Carina, to find a way into her brain to teach her and elevate her learning and comprehension of the English language and common sense. Erica is an easy case honestly. If she was my only concern, I'd have nearly no work at all to do. Carina is a challenge. She has a spotty, jumpy, uneven grasp of the English language. She says "3 o'clock 30", but can still mention being a tennis champion. That has a great deal to do with the fact that tennis is her main concern, but this theme is showing all over the place. She was left behind in English because she was busy elsewhere and when her old teacher tried to bring her up to par, she jumped everything in the middle. I'm hoping reading the stories will help bridge that gap. She'll have a lot of experience with grammar and contextual explanation and syntax with the basics and she'd widen her more expressive vocabulary. That reminds me, I need to study my linguistics books. I don't feel like I can do a lot of real work here. I'll have to work on that too.

As for Erica, I'll try my best to look at her just like the child she is, but with each new thing she says, she seems less and less like a child, which makes her more accountable in my eyes. She's twelve. I've seen her drawings, and they are of a twelve year old. She vies for attention and laughs from her friends and feigns errors in her work to hold off building enemies within her rank. She's a kid. She's just deceivingly bright and situationally independent. Grown men have fallen under the lure of the protection and simplicity of religion answering all the big questions for them, I suppose I can't fault a child for doing the same. I'm sure she was raised religious and that in her reality, it is of most importance, but that doesn't alter my desire to change that one bit. I'll just expose her to more of the world, not bringing up religion at all myself. Perhaps with a little perspective, she'll be able to see things on her own, and with the brain she has, I think she can connect the dots and make a decision on her own.

Yige Guimei he yige Ayi (A ghost girl and a maid)

September 10th, 2007

I just had a confusing time with the Ayi. Last week, I asked if there was a market in town where I could buy western food so I could make fettuccine Alfredo for the kids one night. They assured me there was and this morning I was supposed to go out with Ayi to find the supplies. The day started out with a few bumps. When we were walking out the main doors of this building, the Ayi started to unlock a bicycle. “Oh no.” I thought. “She wants me to ride on the back of that thing and it's not going to work out. Maybe she just needs to put it somewhere else. Maybe the store is far and she wants to ride the bike to a bus.” Ayi is very short and so is the bike. Lowe and behold, she puts the bike down on the cobblestone road of the complex and beckons me to get on the back. I know this isn't going to work, but I try anyway. I sit on the back, side saddle and try to find somewhere to put my feet, but there's nowhere to put them! I try putting them on the shaft that comes out of the middle of the tire, but that's part of the turning crank and she can't peddle. So I put my legs out, trying to hover them over the ground, but because my legs are so long, I have to hold them straight flat out in the air and I don't see this working at all. Meanwhile Ayi is having a terrible time just trying to keep the bike up. She gets off and offers the front seat, but I protest. I don't know where we're going and I honestly don't feel comfortable riding a bike with someone sitting side saddle on the back. I've always thought this was a strange thing to do and have been amazed when I see two or three people sitting on the back of a bicycle, sometimes with a small baby wedged between. I tried to say “why don't we just take a bus”, but looking back, I think I said subway, and there isn't one around, so I'm sure she was confused.

Eventually she gave up and returned the bike to it's place and had me wait with her friends for her to return. Her friends started out by trying to talk to me in Cantonese. “Putonghua” I said. It's not a full sentence, by any stretch, but I find it usually works out better than saying “Qing yong/shuo putonghua.” partly because I think my grammar is wrong. Amazingly enough, they really did use mandarin, and proceeded to ask me the usual questions. “You're going shopping for food with her?” “Yes, we're buying American food.” “Buying American food! Ai ya!” They asked me where I come from and why I'm here now, and I told them I'm American and am teaching English “over there”. I'd tell them I'm teaching Mr. Ma's daughter, but I can't remember how to say “Mr”. Then my Chinese quickly ran out when they inevitably used a few words I didn't know and they gave up on me. I'm not good at the j/zh/z sounds. There are many words I don't know that use these sounds, and some I do, but when they use a few words with these sounds together, it just sounds like noise to my ears and try as I might, I don't understand. Zhe jhe zi zhe. What I just said doesn't' mean anything I don't think, but that's what it sounds like.

They turned around and walked away, two older women with a small curious but shy boy, shaking their heads at the guimei who doesn't know how to speak.

Ayi returned soon after that and asked if they talked to me and if I understood what they said. “Ting dong” Which pretty much means “I understand what I heard.”, though I didn't know how to say I didn't understand the last thing they said.

On the walk, I asked her if she was sure the market had American food, and she said it's all the same. I know it's not, but I walked with her anyway, because I don't know how to argue the point. Instead I talked a little about what I wanted to buy, but she kept shaking her head, saying “Kan kan.” Which is simple speak for “just look”. I was afraid she was bringing me to the normal outdoor market which I knew wouldn't have what I was looking for. Usually I will shop in these markets for weekly groceries as it's cheap and they have everything you need for the usual chow mein and such. I knew the street once we got onto it and I told her I didn't think they'd have what I need. She said “Yiyang.” The same. “Tamen yo yiyangng.” “They have the same stuff.”

I wasn't going to convince her. I kept hoping we'd take a turn and somehow make it to a grocery store but in no time I was staring down fish heads and buckets of frogs at the local market and it was time for me to speak up. “Wo zhidao wo bu keyi mai meiguo cai zheli. Tamen mayo shenme wo xuyao mai.”

“I know I can't buy American food here. They don't have what I need to buy.” She wanted me to have look anyway, but I shook my head. I knew what the market had, and I explained. “Wo xuyao mai nailao, jirou xiongpu, he meiguo de miantiao.” “I need to buy cheese, chicken breast and American noodles.” She pointed at the noodles. “Bu shi. Meiguo miantia.” “No, American noodles.” She tried to argue that the bakery had cheese, which I knew they didn't. She didn't know where to buy what I needed because she herself never needed to buy it. I've gone on the quest to make western food and it's not easy in China, you have to look around and know where to go and accept that it's not going to be in the cheap markets.

She tried to drag me to the bakery to show me but I protested. I was looking at waisting the whole morning with her, trying to explain that it wasn't going to work. “Shiyidian wo gai nide nuerzi dian hua he wen ta ban wo.” “Later I will call your daughter and ask her to help me.” Ayi asked if we could go shopping tonight. “Bu shi. Wo chu maidongxi zhege Xiawu. Ni bu xuyao geng wo ichi lai.” No, I'll go shopping in the afternoon. You don't have to come with me.” “Bu pa.” “Don't worry.” Eventually she accepted but freaked out again when I started to go back to the apartment, insisting that I wait for her to finish shopping so she could show me the way home. “Bu pa. Wo zhidao zenme yong hui lai.” Don't worry. I know how to come back.” I wasn't sure if I could say “go back” with the correct grammar and hoped she'd understand. As with many things in Chinese, I had to say it three different ways three different times for her to finally agree to let me go.

I'm a little uncomfortable and worried now. This morning I've succeeded in doing everything foreign. I couldn't ride on the bicycle with her and I couldn't shop at the local market with her, and instead insisted on finding a more expensive place to shop. I don't know how to explain it to her. Usually, I would shop at the market too, but you just can't do that if you're making western food, and I was hoping I could use the opportunity to talk about western food with the girls, and maybe get them involved.

I'm tired now and I think I have class soon. Ayi took away the bed mats I was using to make my bed comfortable so I was tossing and turning all night. Without extra comforters, Chinese beds are hard as rocks. I kept waking up every hour on the hour, and when I finally got out of bed, the sheets and pillows were thrown around everywhere. When I was here the first time, I woke up having not disturbed the bed at all. I told the Ayi I couldn't sleep because I wasn't comfortable which gives her one more guiemei point for the day. Chinese beds are all hard and most people don't complain about it. They say it's healthy because there is no choice, but they also sell mats at all the stores, so I can't feel like such an odd man out. Everyone knows they're uncomfortable.

Andy brought up the fact that I often call her Ayi or the Ayi and asked if it was rude. I explained that Ayi means maid, cook and nanny and was usually used as a term of endearment and that I never heard a negative thing about it. I've always liked the name because it seems to have a much more positive connotation then our “maid”. I don't know her real name because she hasn't told me. She tells me to call her ayi, which is what every Ayi tells me to do, so I don't think it's rude at all, but I could be missing out on some fatal information here. Maybe I'll just nag her until she tells me her name, though I think she likes being called ayi.

A Touch of Normal

September 1st, 2007

It's my third day here at the Ma house, and Carina is already warming up to me. I think she wants me to like her and she's trying hard to speak more English with me. Her friend and roomate, Erica, is attending the class with her and is quite a bright little girl. She's twelve years old as well and speaks Korean (her native language), Chinese and English. She has only been speaking Chinese for 6 months, and she told me she learned it just by listening to the other girls talk all the time. She's been studying English since she was 9 years old and went to an English school in Sweden. She is eager to please and is a big help with Carina. Erica not only helps translate when it is needed but also helps to keep the mood up and goes along with my lessons as though they were the best thing since buttered toast. Just now, I read them a bed time story and Erica made sure to act as interested as possible. The book turned out to be a bit of a waste of money as the stories were simplified boring versions of the real fairy tales, but she went along just the same. I think she knows how quickly Carina loses interest and how much she needs some focus and guidance. Erica is the best thing for her.

Tonight it was a little easier to speak with Uncle Li and the Chinese girl who doesn't speak English. Uncle Li's real name is Li Xiao Ping and his daughter is Li sa yi, who I've named Lisa. With Erica helping me, I can understand the gist of what Uncle Li says and Erica fills me in on the words I don't' know. It's much smoother this way and it allows me to talk more with her and build a bond. I feel more inclined to build a bond with her than I do with Carina, but that's to be expected. Erica is very intelligent and polite and eager to please, whereas Carina has sporadic focus, has been spoiled and so has very few manners and is eager to be pleased. They're practically opposites.

In the room across from me, Lisa and her parents sleep together. Lisa seems like a bit of the odd girl out. She's very boyish looking, with close cropped hair and a slim straight build. When explaining how her body is built to a Chinese friend of mine, I said "Ta kanshilai yige quaizi." She looks like a chopstick. It's the closest thing I knew to calling her a twig. She's very shy and likes to stay in her room while the other two hang out. I'm not sure if this is from preference or from ostracization.

Carina is not half as difficult as I was prepared for, though I'm happier for it. The only difficulty is finding a lesson plan that will both interest her and Erica and be simple enough for Carina to follow without holding Erica back too much. The other problem is finding material that is simple enough for her level but interesting enough for her age. I'm thinking of giving Erica further reading on the side.

The downside of all of this is the inconvenience factor. For this job, I have to travel to Jiangmen for four days of the week every week. I stay in this room and have very little time to myself. I'm not comfortable yet in the house and I don't like being away from Andy this much. It doesn't' help that Andy and I had a fight before I left. We have never been away from each other for this long. I realize 4 days isn't a long time, but it is when it's never happened before, and Andy and I are infused in each others lives. We live together, work together, play together, learn together. It's strange and uncomfortable to be doing something that he is not involved with. Since we've been together, we've hardly ever gone 4 days without being intimate either. Three days seems to be my limit before I reach a breaking point to the degree where I'm intent on "fixing this problem", so I'll have to cope with that as well.

Living at the house for the four days has presented a few problems for me that I'll have to work out. While I'm there, I am comfortable and the day is very scheduled and routine. The girls have breakfast at 7 am, go to school and return at either 11:30 or 12:30 depending on how much slack they're getting for tennis practice. (This is usually determined by whether or not Carina's schedule has changed. If she is attending school, they all follow her schedule and come home at 11:30; if she's not attending school however, the other two girls will stay at the school until lunch time). We have lunch together, have some after meal fruit and have class for an hour and a half. After class, they relax for 30 minutes and then take a nap. At 3:30, they go to tennis practice and come home at 8:30 for dinner. We have dinner together, have some after meal fruit, talk and hang out for a while, and then they have an hour of personal time where they'll often write in their diaries or talk to their parents before I read them a bedtime story and they go to sleep.

This is all very routine. Ayi usually comes into my room and asks for my dirty laundry at the same hour every day and returns the clean clothes on time as well. When I wake up there is baotzi waiting for me steaming in the wok while the kids eat their breakfast. While they're at school, Ayi goes cleans up breakfast, does laundry and goes shopping. After they leave for tennis practice, Ayi cleans the house, mops the floors (including mine) and takes a nap on the couch. Thirty minutes before they come back from practice, Ayi washes her hair in my bathroom with door open, wearing all her clothes with the apron still fixed about her neck, and washes her feet with a toothbrush. Dinner is always on time. There is always fruit. The house is always clean. It's stable and has made me a bit uncomfortable.

I enjoy the relaxation and having an Ayi is deffinetely nice. However, I do not feel at ease in the usual sense. I'm not at home there. I am visiting and feel that my time is catagorized and labeled and I have a hard time sitting down for a good long stint of work. At home, when I work I dive into it and don't come out for hours despite hunger or bodily needs. I'll work round the clock and throw out any pretense of a sleeping schedule in light of the more pressing matter of the project at hand. I can't do that at the Ma. house. If I sink into my work and throw off my schedule, I'll rock the schedule of the house. I have to be ready the next day. I have to keep a schedule, and I've never had to do that when it comes to our work.

So far, the best I can do is alternate between reading my fiction books, studying my linguistics books, writing lesson plans and personal writing like this when I have time to myself. I see the value in these things, but I'm not cranking out the work, and so I feel unbalanced, off put and strange. This is not normal. When we move out to Jiangmen, I'll have more freedom and will be able to work at home while they're at practice and at night which should solve that problem. Until then, though, I'll need to enforce a work schedule for myself, allotting hours of work for separate projects. Having a semblance of a work schedule could be a good thing for us. We're so inclined to spend all of our time working that we've omitted any outside social life or exercise, so maybe this could add the touch of normal to our lives that we might need. Just a touch, no more.

The Introduction of the Ma Family

This might become a very interesting time for me. I've just started working for a man named Mr. Ma, teaching his 12 year old daughter Corrina English at their home. I'm teaching her 4 days a week, and staying at the home for those four days. Howard set up the job and has thoroughly warned me about Corrina's character problems. The root of all her problems is that her daddy is rich. Her whole life she has gotten everything she's ever wanted and has probably never heard anyone tell her no. My job isn't so much teaching her English but rather teaching her how to be a human being. I'm not sure how I will do that. I think the first step is to lay down the ground rules that if she is rude to me, I'm not going to be nice to her, I will put my foot down and I will demand that she study English. As far as making her a better human being...well I suppose we'll see about that.

My Chinese has come in handy at this point. Corrina lives in a two story apartment on the 11th floor of The JuinJin Garden apartment complex with two other girls and her Ayi. Her Ayi doesn't' speak any English and the two of us are getting along awkwardly with the Chinese I know.

At this point, I know enough Chinese to be thoroughly confused. I can speak enough and make enough sense that people feel secure with rambling off in full complex conversations that I have to sit and try to decipher with my mixed understanding, weak grammar and spotty vocabulary. With common things, I will often understand the sentence and meaning of what they're saying, cataloging the new words they used into my memory for later use. At other times, they throw whole new concepts at me and phrases I've never heard at break neck speed. At those times, I probably look a little dumbfounded as I'll be scanning the sentence in my mind and breaking it apart as fast as I can, mouthing the words that I know and don't know. "Okay," I think "he said something about truth, a leader or a boss and a good mood, but what was the rest of it?"

It's harder still when many times, the words I think I recognize aren't really the words I think they are. For each sound, something we'd call a word, like "shou", there are four different tones and four completely different meanings: receive, hand, ripe, leader and thin (shou even has two different characters for the same tone, so it has five meanings and not four like usual) so I have to hope I know all four and that with context I'll know which one they're using, and beyond that, I have to hope that I heard them right and that they didn't really say "shuo".

Just as in any other language, there is more than one way to say something, so even though I'm familiar with the phrase "the faster the better"yue quai yue hao", they could use any number of other phrases for the same meaning that I don't already know, at which point, not matter how eager I am to understand and use "yue quai yue hao",I'm at a loss.

When I first met Mr. Ma, the only English he used was "hello", and let Howard translate everything, but it turns out he has a basic handle on the language, so between my broken Chinese and his broken English, we can communicate pretty well. Luckily his friend Cathy was there with us yesterday to translate and was very helpful. Unfortunately when they are speaking Chinese they usually use Cantonese which I can't understand at all. Mr. Ma said he'd use only Mandarin but seems to have forgotten that.

When I first met Cathy she came off as a very businesslike woman who took no shit and was measuring me from the other side of the large round dimsum table with a hard skeptical eye. I felt that at any moment she'd inspect me like a mule, measuring my inch by inch, to see if I could stand up to the task. I've had some experience dealing with the psychology of business meetings and people in general lately, so I simply took over the conversation and explained to her what my plans were for Corrina. I was detailed, to the point and never stopped for approval. I wasn't asking for permission or seeing if I would please anyone, but simply laid out my plan with a "take it of leave it" attitude. She took to me well after that and decided to sit next to me at the table to continue talking with me for the rest of the evening. She was very helpful and my only regret is that she won't be around much throughout this. She warned me about Corrina as well, explaining that often Corrina would refuse to have her English lesson with her last teacher and went so far as to drop out of school entirely for 6 months so she could spend more time practicing tennis and resting. This girl is a piece of work, and I'll be coming in long after her habits have been well established and difficult to change or remove.

I was originally interested in this job as a way to integrate my study of linguistics and to use it to spearhead my study in language acquisition and retention. There's a chance I'll have some opportunity to do this, but right now it seems that I will be more of a nanny than anything else. My family and friends know how I feel about children. I like few of them and only at small intervals of time and definitely not in large groups. It will only be the three of them and most of the time I'll be teaching Corina alone, but she will be a handful. My guess is that she will display many of the characteristics I find so difficult with women and children, so we'll have our bumps, and I'll have to be patient. I think Mr. Ma would be most pleased if I didn't take this the direction of becoming her best friend, despite the fact that he asked me to treat her like a little sister. Being nice to her won't gain me anything. In time, if she learns to respect me, this can happen all on it's own, but I'm not in the market for a spoiled brat for a friend. If she can turn around with some help, then I wouldn't mind it at all and it would be good experience for me. I don't tend to get myself involved in situations like this, so I'm sure the newness of this will lend something to me in ways of child psychology. I'm sure it will be helpful somewhere.

Corrina's main focus is Tennis. She's training to be a professional tennis player, and soon will be traveling for tennis competitions around the world. As I have been told, I will be going with her for these trips, though I'm sure I wouldn't be alone. I understand her commitment to tennis, but she'll be nothing if she's not educated. If nothing else, her and her family won't be respected and they'll lose face on the foreign market. Tennis will only last so long. Even if she reaches the professional level and becomes famous in any way, eventually that will run out and she'll need something to fall back on. Many women here believe that's not a problem, that at that point she could just marry and be done with it. Corrina probably thinks the same thing, but pretty soon even China will know just how far that won't get someone. That's a fact I'd like to get through to her.