* * *
September
Wednesday 1
What a great day! The students were fantastic. I taught three forty–minute periods, and in each one the students actually sat at their desks, listened to me – and worked! Incredible. No–one was stabbed, punched, mentally tormented or had his property destroyed. No–one told me to fuck off, tried to strangle me with my tie, or threatened to call his lawyer if I touched him. So different from my old school in the UK (which has since been converted into an army barracks).
Julie said it was the same with her students. “Maybe because it’s our first day?” I suggested. But no; Clive Morris, head of English, said that students actually respect teachers and value their education over here. We’ve gone to educational heaven.
Thursday 2
Clive gave me a copy of the IGCSE syllabus today. He did seem a little concerned when I asked him to remind us what ‘IGCSE’ stood for, so I said “Just kidding!” and that made him happy. I asked Julie, but she’d forgotten as well. We guessed that the ‘I’ was for Individual, ‘G’ for Great, ‘C’ for Choice and ‘E’ for Experience. ‘S’ then could be Student. So, the Individual Great Choice Student Experience. We weren’t one hundred percentage sold on ‘Great’ though – or ‘Choice’, and thought that maybe ‘Individual’ was wrong. Julie later remembered it was the International General Certificate of Secondary Education. (We weren’t far out.)
Met Klaus at lunch, and apologised for what I said about Maths teachers. “It’s okay, it’s probably true,” he said.
“Tell me what you think about English teachers,” I said playfully. His mouth turned into a smile, which turned into a laugh, which turned into a roar. “Thanks for your feedback,” I said.
Promised Julie I’d take her out for a meal after school tomorrow to celebrate our first week in Shanghai.
Friday 3
Shanghai is so big! Ron (the Arsenal fan) recommended we go to ‘Shin–tee–an–dee’ for a meal (at least, that’s how it sounded). Because of the traffic, it took us over an hour to get there in a cab – poor taxi–driver! Taxis are so cheap here, so decided to give him a decent tip; but he gave it back to me. So I pushed it into his hands, and he pushed it back into mine. So I stuffed the money in his pocket, but he took it out and gave it back. At first he was smiling, but that soon wore off. This is ridiculous, I thought. So I just threw the money on the floor and Julie and I left the cab. But he got out of the car and ran after us shouting “bu yao, bu yao!” When he caught up with us, he shoved the notes into Julie’s hand. Not a good idea. “Just take the fucking money!” she shouted, stuffing the cash down his trousers. Everyone stopped to see the crazy foreigners.
This did rather taint our celebratory meal somewhat.
“Do you think we over–reacted?” I asked Julie.
“D’yer think?” she said.
Anyway, the restaurant was nice. We’d both been missing traditional British food these last few days, so we went for the chicken tikka masala. Splashed out on the wine, and felt better. Got the bill, and I said to Julie, “How much shall we ti….”
“Don’t even think about it,” she said.
Saturday 4
Having stayed in a hotel for the last few days, it was good to finally move into our own apartment. Google helped us find a nice place near the school. “Look, it’s even got a children’s room,” she observed.
“Yes, but we haven’t got any children!” I pointed out.
“No... not yet,” Julie added. Does she know something I don’t?
Sunday 5
Last night we made love in our new bed, in our new apartment, in our new city, in our new country, in our new life. Bliss! At least, I thought so. But Julie said, “Babe, I need more…”
“Maybe you need more than one man,” I jested.
“I’ll think about it,” she said turning over. I hope she knows I’m joking.
Back to work tomorrow.
Monday 6
Interesting day at school: Clive Morris (Head of English) suggested we teachers observe each others’ lessons, as part of our in–service professional development. “Great idea!” I said. So Clive and Julie came to one of my lessons in the morning. Afterwards, Clive had a sort of glassy–eyed, wondrous look about him. At lunch, I asked him for his impressions.
“It was, er, interesting… er, very, er, informative. Unusual, actually. I’ve never seen a lesson quite like it.”
“Thank you,” I said, “thank you very much.”
Julie said, “Look, I could be completely wrong about this, but shouldn’t you be teaching the kids, and not them teaching you?” She’s too old fashioned.
“This is the new way, the new order,” I explained. “You have to open your mind.”
“Well, from where did you get this ‘new–fancy–order thing’, Plato?”
“Yes, where?” Clive eagerly chipped in. “Was it from your teacher training college?”
“What, Hounslow Uni?” I said, “Nah, no way – that was a complete waste of time. No, I got the idea from reading Sherlock Holmes books.”
There was silence. Then Julie spluttered,
“I’ve got it!”
“You have?” Clive said.
“Yes! Brilliant! We essentially learn in four ways: by listening, by watching, by doing, and...”
“By teaching!” Clive added triumphantly.
Then Julie said, “So when we thought we saw twenty–five students showing you how to write a paragraph correctly on the board – because you’d made more than seventeen grammatical errors – what we actually saw was a student–centred learning experience where you facilitated their educational needs through motivational, transformational–type, incompetence.”
“Got it in one,” I said.
Tuesday 7
Late last night in bed, Julie rolled over, faced me and said, “Got you out of that hole today, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did pet. Owe you one.”
Wednesday 8
I feel a new me is developing here in China. In England, I was a nobody who could do nothing. Here, I’m a nobody who can make a difference.
I must say, even though we’ve only been here just over a week, I do miss the odd game of footie. So when big Ron asked me if I’d like to play football with him and some other teachers after school, I jumped at the chance.
“Where d’you play?” asked Ron.
“On the pitch,” I said.
“I mean, position?”
“Oh, er, backward midfielder.” Ron gave me a strange look.
“Okay, you’re in goal then,” he said.
I told the lads about the screamer I scored back in England when playing for our college. Didn’t tell them it was in the wrong direction – but they put me in goal anyway. Being a goalkeeper must be the loneliest position in any team. No–one to talk to, and all you seem to do is pick the ball out of the back of the net. Eventually, they took pity on me and someone else stood between the sticks, giving me free rein to show what I could do on the field. They were impressed. Clive said I had a hidden talent; Klaus said he’d never seen such a skill (and he’d played in a decent amateur league in Hanover); and Ron just said, “Why?”
It was my dad who first taught me the skill of tucking the ball under my calf and upper thigh and hopping towards goal, with the ball securely locked in position under my bum. Very difficult to tackle me without incurring a foul. Invariably, I was able to hop pretty much the length of the pitch and score. Or I’d be brought down by their goalie, and that’s a penalty, thank you very much. Referees had no idea what to do either, and had to allow a goal.
Eventually, everyone seemed to get bored for some reason and left the game, leaving Klaus and me to play England against Germany. He won on penalties.
Thursday 9
Dr Wang announced this morning that all the new teachers were invited for a dinner this evening after school. I was going to say, ‘Duo shao qian’, to show off my Chinese, but sud
denly forgot what it meant. Sheila (Chemistry) asked if there would be a bar. “Oh, not for me,” she added quickly. “I was just thinking that the others might fancy a drink… or two.” Someone asked what we should wear, and Dr Wang said, “Normal working dress.”
Big Ron wore his Arsenal shirt, which was in fact normal working dress for him. Julie came dressed to kill (I don’t know who), with a short leopard–skin skirt, black tights, knee–length black boots, and revealing gold silk blouse – all of which she was indeed teaching in today. The dinner was in a five–star hotel downtown with wall–to–wall chandeliers. If they wanted to impress us, it worked. The meal was an all–you–can–eat buffet style. Sheila asked if this included drinks.
“Yes, I believe it does include soft drinks,” said Dr Wang.
“What about gin?” Sheila asked, almost desperately. Dr Wang gave a nervous laugh and moved away quickly.
Julie seemed to be getting on well with Graham, the Canadian Business teacher, so I talked to Klaus about the last war. Probably not the best of subjects. Fortunately, Sheila came over just before I started World War Three.
“So, what are two handsome young men doing in this neck of the woods?” she said, knocking back a gin–and–something.
“Well, I’m talking to a very attractive and sexy–looking human being,” I said looking up at her.
“Why, thank you kind sir!” she drooled.
“Actually, I meant Klaus.” She creased up laughing, but not long enough for me to escape. Fortunately, Julie came back in time to save me from alcohol vapour poisoning.
“I’m tired, babe – can we go home?” she moaned.
And so we did.
Friday 10
Had a strange dream last night. I was in a submarine with all the new teachers. I looked out of the window and saw Julie swimming like a fish! Then a big net came down and lifted her out of the water. Meanwhile, Sheila was making love to Clive in the engine room.
Decided to keep away from gin – even if someone else is drinking it.
Saturday 11
The weekend! Julie and I decided to explore Shanghai. “What about Sea–World?” she said.
“What about it?” I replied.
“We could go and see the fish, and dolphins and stuff. Don’t you like fish?” Well, of course I like fish – particularly when they’re deep fried with chips. Actually, it was a cool place, I have to admit. Julie kept saying, “Oh, aren’t they sweet! Can we have one Simon?” But that changed to, “Oh shit, look at that!” when she saw the sharks. Then I saw something equally frightening.
“Hey, he looks familiar,” I said to Julie.
“Which one?” she asked.
“The balding fella on the right.”
“Does he have eight legs?” she asked.
I turned to see her peering into the Octopus tank. “No, I mean the man over there – isn’t that Clive Morris?”
“Oh, yeah – that’s him.” Suddenly a woman came into view, and took Clive’s arm. It was Sheila!
“Hide!” I gasped. No idea why, but we wanted to get lost in the crowd so that Clive and Sheila couldn’t see us. “I thought Clive was married?” I whispered to Julie.
“He is,” she said.
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at me,” she replied. What was she saying?
“Does every married guy you’ve ever met want to try it on?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” she said, popping a fresh piece of gum into her mouth.
Sunday 12
Phoned Mum to see how she was. She said she couldn’t talk because Donald (the Dentist she’s living with) was cleaning her crown. “Oh, sorry your majesty!” I joked. She didn’t get it. She said she’d had a bit of flu, but she was feeling better than tomorrow. (She’s such a pessimist.)
Then I phoned dad, and discovered he’s got a new girlfriend! “What’s she like?” I asked. “Oh the usual things – chocolate, sex, women’s magazines…”
“No, dad – I mean…”
With parents like this, I sometimes wonder how I turned out to be so normal.
Went to Starbucks with Julie in the evening for a coffee – yes, Starbucks in Shanghai! Thought it was time to have a serious talk with the love of my life (that’s Julie, by the way).
“Jules, I feel I’ve something inside me that I’ve got to get out”
“Oh pet, I know exactly what you mean.” She delved into her handbag. “Here, try these – they’re magic.” She gave me some Chinese traditional medicine from her students. “That’ll sort you out,” she said.
“No no, it’s not that... I think I was born for something bigger… there’s something very important I’ve got to do with my life, and I need to share this with you.” She was suddenly very attentive. She even took the gum out of her mouth (I think that’s the first time I’ve seen her do that).
“Oh, Simon! Yes, yes, yes! But shouldn’t you be down on one knee?”
Eventually, though, we did get on the same wavelength, and Julie had a surprise for me: she told me she was going to join the Shanghai Writers Club! (And I thought she was still learning to read. You never know what lies beneath that crazy persona.) I said I’d go with her and provide a bit of support (she does get a bit wobbly on her legs after a couple of drinks).
Monday 13
School was a bit of a blur today. I’m having a mid–life crisis twenty years too early. One of my students asked if I was all right. I said, “No, actually I’m half left.” Spent the rest of the lesson trying to explain British humour. Concluded that it’s best not to. Off to the Shanghai Writers’ Club with Julie!
Tuesday 14
Interesting group of people at the Writers’ meeting last night. I couldn’t understand half of what they were saying, but I did get the bit about ordering wine. One woman said nervously, “I’ve never been read before.” “Oh,” Julie replied, “what colour have you been?” That’s my girl. When it was Julie’s turn to read her stuff, I was in for a surprise: she’d written a story all about me! “My Boyfriend, by J.K. Rowling,” she started. Jaws dropped – including mine. Was my girlfriend really the author of all those Harry Potter novels? Then is dawned on me: it was a pseudonym. (I learned that word from my students last week.) Julie said she thought the name might help to sell her work. She may have a point. Anyway, it was more of a poem than a story, and it started like this:
My Boyfriend, by J.K. Rowling.
My boyfriend isn’t so bright,
In fact he’s a pretty horrible sight.
But on a cloudy night, or a rainy day,
I love him anyway.
We’ve living together like sister and brother,
Without my old man,
And without his old mother.
And one day he’ll say:
‘Julie, be mine’;
And I’ll say, okay that’s fine.
There was silence. Then one woman said: “I think I can see where you’re going with that.” That made Julie very happy: she’d no idea where she was going with it.
Wednesday 15
Couldn’t sleep last night. Had a dream about being married to Julie, and woke up in a cold sweat. Sat looking at her for about an hour wondering what it would be like. Then I woke up again! I’d dreamt that I’d woken up and looked at Julie, but actually I was still asleep. Must keep off that Korean wine. Made me think though: is it time to say those two little words that can change your life? Mmm… I can’t remember what they are now. I suppose there’s lots of ‘two little words’ that can change your life: ‘You’re fired’, ‘She’s gay’, ‘You’re broke’, ‘I’m pregnant’. Ah, remembered what it was now: ‘Marry me’. A shiver just went down my spine.
Couldn’t stop thinking about Julie’s poem all day – particularly the bit about ‘living together like sister and brother’. Decided to talk to her about it that evening.
“What do you think of Incest?” I asked.
“Not bad ?
?? quite good to relax to. It can get a bit heavy though.” Apparently, she thought I was talking about a British Indie rock band. Decided to leave it at that for now.
Thursday 16
Interesting day at school. Started a discussion on marriage with my top English group. Learnt quite a lot from them (or should that be learned?) Apparently, it costs just five yuan to get married in China, and nine yuan to get divorced. So you could have a different wife every month of the year, and it would cost you less than twenty quid! Don’t think I’ll propose to Julie just yet.
Friday 17
Still thinking about marriage in China. Apparently, after you get your licence you could wait up to a year before doing the ‘proper’ ceremony, with the dress, flowers, meal, party, drink, speeches, etc, etc. And then you usually have two weddings – one in your town, and one in hers. Christ! But, of course, you don’t have to do all that – you can just pay your five kwai and live happily ever after. Or not. (Kwai = another name for yuan, like saying quid for pounds.)
Wanted to talk about this at our weekly ‘Happy Hour’ at school. This is the term for free drinks and snacks in the Coffee Bar after school every Friday. Everyone was there – Dr Wang, Sheila, Big Ron, Klaus, Graham, Clive, Hamish, Google, and all the local Chinese staff. Went to have a chat with Hamish first. “So, how’s it going with your English teaching Hamish?” Couldn’t understand a word. “HOW IS ENGLISH TEACHING – GOOD?” No, nothing. His lips moved, but the sounds were not from any universe I knew of. I nodded politely, and went to talk to Google and the admin girls. “So, ladies, a question for you: what’s the most important reason for getting married? (a) money; (b) sex; (c) to please your family; or (d) all the prezzies you can get? They looked puzzled.
“What about Love?” one asked. I hadn’t thought of that.
Saturday 18
Toni, one of the guys from the Writers’ group, phoned me up, and we got chatting. He asked what I did for a living and I said “English teacher.”
“ESL?” he asked.
“No, Shanghai International College,” I replied. Silence. Then he asked to speak to Julie. Later Julie told me that ESL was ‘English as a Second Language’. Yeah, I knew that. It’s also London School of Economics (spelled backwards).
Later that night in bed with Julie (it was Saturday), she told me that Toni was a painter. “Great,” I said, “perhaps he could touch up my bike for me.” Apparently she meant that he’s an artist, and he’d like to paint her tomorrow. Good, I thought, she was looking a bit pasty.
Sunday 19
Julie came back from Toni’s looking bright and giggly. It’s nice to see her happy. But then I looked at her old clothes. “I hope he didn’t paint you in those,” I said in my most disapproving voice. “No, ‘course not,” she said, “I took them all off.” Now that’s a relief.
Monday 20
Teaching is such an easy profession. Get the textbook, read it to your students, and bingo. Dr Wang came to observe one of my lessons today (part of my professional development) and after some head shaking and plenty of tut–tutting, she told me there is definitely room for improvement. “Yes,” I agreed, “I’ll tell them that tomorrow.”
Julie’s started doing some private English tutoring on the side to earn a bit more cash. She really is a people person is our Julie, and loves the one–to–one learning environment. She’s also got such a practical approach to learning English too. She often takes her students shopping, or goes to restaurants and hotels with them – just so that they can practise their English in real life situations. Brilliant.
Tuesday 21
Dr Wang must have really enjoyed my lesson yesterday because she came back again to see another! She seemed to make a lot of notes, and then said we needed to talk in her office, where she had something for me – a letter!
My students are so nice! They’d written to Dr Wang all about me. Dr Wang handed it over, with plenty of that head–shaking she does so well. The letter said:
‘Dear Dr Wang,
We know Simon is not good teacher. He only reads from textbook. Sometimes this is wrong textbook, and sometimes he does not understand his own reading. And his spelling is badder than ours. We respectfully suggest we self–study instead of learn from Simon. But please do not burn him. He is so funny, and tells us lots of joke. And we are learning so much about British youth culture, and the drug scene. Class G3.’
Dr Wang then said she had a new job for me – in the Guidance Office. I have to prepare the students for life abroad and help them apply to universities. So it looks like I’ve been promoted! Only, I won’t get quite so much money, and I can only work part–time.
Wednesday 22
Last night Julie told me she’d become a Pescetarian.
“I thought you liked being British?” I said.
“You can be both,” she replied. A sort of dual nationality, then? Apparently not. A pesky–whatsit is someone who eats fish, but not meat.
“Hey, I like fish – can I be one too?” I asked.
“No,” she said, in the sort of voice that means No, you stupid idiot. “You have to give up meat first”. Does a Big Mac count as meat? I wondered. Apparently, Julie got the fish/no meat idea from Toni. “Has he given you anything else?” I asked. “Not yet,” she said smiling, “but he wants to.”
That’s nice, I thought.
Thursday 23
The first day of my new job at school! I was introduced to Nigel, who manages the Guidance Office. A really nice bloke who is dead easy to get on with… and he’s gay, according to Sammy (one of the Chinese admin girls). Yes, Nigel has a boyfriend in downtown Shanghai – or “Shaghai”, as Sammy says he calls it. Sammy said this is really a secret and I mustn’t tell anyone. I’m sure I could tell Julie though – she’s very discreet. And not many people will read my Blog.
My job in Guidance is to interview students, find out what they want to study at University, and help them to write their personal statements. Today I talked to Miss Shoe–jar–way. (Don’t know how to spell it, but that’s how it sounds.) She said she wants to become an Actuary, and her parents told her she must study Finance and Accountancy at Uni. Amazing – would you believe it! Fortunately, I was there to point her in the right direction. “No, to be an Actuary you really need to study Drama and English,” I told her. She seemed a bit puzzled, but I convinced her that this was right.
When Julie came home, she told me that one of her mature students has asked her to go to Beijing with her this weekend and translate for him at a conference – all expenses paid, including the hotel and… everything! This sort of work pays really well, apparently.
Friday 24
Last night, Julie told me that I say ‘apparently’ an awful lot. It gets on her nerves, apparently.
At work, Nigel didn’t seem very happy about my recommendations for Shoe–jar–way. Appar..., it seems that her father is an accountant – and her mother phoned to ask why I was recommending Drama for their daughter. “Do you know what an Actuary actually does?” asked Nigel. “Act?” I ventured tentatively. “Try ‘get your act together’ – and look it up,” he said and walked out. Nigel isn’t as nice as I first imagined.
Saturday 25
It’s nice that Julie’s going away for the weekend, but it does mean we’ll miss our night of passion today. Apparently.
Sunday 26
Went to Tesco’s last night (yes, a British Tesco in China!) and bought a decent bottle of Australian wine. Couldn’t believe the price at first – over a hundred quid a bottle! Went to tell the manager that this was outrageous, then realised everyone was Chinese and they don’t speak English. Tried to pay in pounds at the checkout – but they only accept Chinese money. Then realised the price was a hundred and five Yuan (about ten quid)! Opened the bottle at home and had a really good laugh about it – then realised I was on my own. Just realised that I seem to say ‘realised’ a lot.
Monday 27
Last night Julie
came home from her Beijing trip. Asked her what Beijing is like, but she said she never really saw it – spent the whole weekend in the hotel. That’s what I like about Julie – she’s dedicated to her work. She said we could go there together next holiday… maybe. Feel a bit hung over after the wine last night (maybe drinking the whole bottle wasn’t such a good idea).
Tuesday 28
Enjoyed our Writers meeting last night – beginning to get to know people now. There’s Anton, who’s half–French and seems to run the club, and writes very intellectual stuff that only he can understand (or maybe only I can’t understand); Toni, the artist; Maddy, who’s writing a book about someone called Sydney; Melissa, who writes really dark, earthy fiction, with lots of references to sex (Julie says she wants to write like Melissa); and then me and Jules. Melissa gave us a short story to read called ‘The Last Orgasm’. Wow – powerful stuff! I really didn’t know you could do that with ordinary fruit. I think it was very well researched – and I particularly liked the climax. Anton then read out ‘Le Soul Wondrous’, in which he used words I never knew existed in the English language. Afterwards, Melissa told me it was all in French, but there was a translation on the back. Finally, Toni gave us one of his poems to read, entitled ‘Ode to a Carrot’.
Ode to a Carrot, by Toni Carrotti.
Oh now though art long, firm,
And orange!
You help me see in the dark
Guide me in the right direction
And you are
Better than
A stick.
I had to read it several times to know what it was all about. Toni said it’s based on a painting he’s doing, and his next poem will be about Julie. Interesting…
As we left, Maddy asked me what sort of things I write. I told her that I write to my mum and dad every now and then.