Aihua

Link to song

Link to Film

Fahai temple was built when Shakespeare was a boy.  It has in it amazing mosaics depicting blue, tusked gods, and ladies floating on clouds. It is about 20 minutes drive from our Gucheng school. I took a walk up to this temple on my first day in China, and it is still one of my favourite walks in the area.

This video does not enter the temple: cameras are not allowed. In walking through most temples, Faihai Si included, you ascend through a series of areas, divided by steep stairs upward, toward the highest point.  The highest point of the temple represents the highest achievement, the highest level of mastery.

Although the video does not enter the temple, the road toward Fahai Si seems to mimic, or precede, the temples’ architecturual foundation in an ascent toward mastery.

Last week Ms Chen and I went to a lecture at Beijing University, delivered by Professor Mayers, of Yale University.   Dr Mayers has been involved in the development of the idea of EQ: emotional intelligence.  Ms Chen received the tickets to this lecture from her political party.  She was told that the tickets had cost 2000 RMB each.  When she asked me to join her at this lecture, I agreed because I felt that it would be nice to get out of the school for a morning, and spend some time with Ms Chen.

Sam collected me, and then we picked up Ms Chen, and were away out of Shijingshan by 7:00 am.  As Sam drove the clunky school van,  we sat in the back and discussed our overriding concern: how to develop a culture of courtesy, warm heartedness, mutual support and shared respect at our school.  Chen Xi felt that she could glean ideas from Dr Mayers’ talk, and pass these on to our management in training.  The management could then transmit these ideas to the staff and teachers, who would in turn transmit them to our students, and to the parents of our students.

There were a lot of people at the talk, but I was the only non-Chinese.  Under each chair we found water, a bag, a notebook, and a flyer for an EQ summer camp for 10 to 12 year old children, to be led by Dr Mayers.  When Dr Mayers entered the theatre, everyone stood, and would not sit until Dr Mayers had asked them to be seated.  Dr Mayers was accompanied by a translator, who followed him sentence by sentence.  The first thing he did was ask the audience how many people were in attendance as parents.  Almost every hand was raised.  He then asked how many were in attendance as business leaders.  Perhaps 5% of the audience raised their hands.

Dr Mayers proceeded to claim that the conception of emotional intelligence was new, as new as 1990, and that in the history of thought, it had only been implied once, in the work of Darwin.  He then showed a series of sketches of birds, seals and apes mouth feeding, and then a slide of a human couple kissing.  He stressed that these slides were photos of sketches by Darwin, and that Darwin had interpreted this evolution of mouth feeding toward kissing as evidence of the development of emotional intelligence.  I noted down in the notebook from under my chair that this seemed to be a misreading of Darwin.  I also noted that the idea of strong and weak abilities to read and control emotions had existed throughout human thought, as notions of sensitivity, empathy, and awareness of others.

Dr Mayers then described how the EQ level of an individual could be measured through standard tests.  He showed photos of faces, and asked the audience to rank the level of given emotions in the faces, for example sadness, from one to five.  He showed that there was a general consensus in how people interpreted emotions in others.   He described EQ as a measuring tool; one that might be useful to police, or HR departments.  Again and again he stressed that EQ was based upon scientific principles.  The equation of EQ with IQ, suggests that an innate quality is being measured; like the charisma ability, in Dungeons and Dragons.

In fairness, he did not pretend to be talking about ways of improving emotional intelligence.  He made this clear in his replies to questions at the end.  To the first question, what should a boss who has a low EQ do about this problem, he replied that the boss should identify an employee with high EQ, and work closely with him.  The next question was “what should a parent do if children fight over their toys.”  To this, he turned aside, blushed, and then laughed.  He regained his composure and said: “Well, I’m no child psychologist, but I guess you should explain to the children that they should think about how the other child feels.”

The talk was about measuring EQ, and not developing EQ.  Were Dr Mayers to have suggested that the principles of his work could be used to develop emotional intelligence, the fact that his theory is founded entirely on science and statistics, means that developing EQ in others could most readily be used to develop skills in emotional manipulation.  EQ is not a theory of ethics: it does not provide guidance for how to interact effectively with others.

Many Chinese people are desperately seeking to create an ethical and courteous society.  They recognize that crowded roads, crowded shops, one child families, and an exam focused educational system have created a public culture of bad manners and selfishness.  Many Chinese people want to encourage courtesy and empathy in their children, in order that their children may set an an example that will contribute to the development of a better society.  Dr Mayers and his audience were at cross purposes and somebody must have been aware of this.  It seems not a little cynical to exploit the noble aspirations of Chinese parents who wish to see their children develop empathy and courtesy.

There were flowers and butterflies on the flyers for the expensive EQ summer camp, congregating around a photo of Dr Mayers’ head.  The letters E and Q jumped out of a bright and bouncy alphabet.

There are ways to help young people develop courtesy and empathy, and ways to encourage these qualities to become contagious:  Dr Mayers’ EQ measuring tool has no relation to such a project.

Ms Chen’s political party collected donations to be used to build a new public school in an area in Sichuan hit hard by the earthquake of 2008.  Ms Chen traveled to Sichuan to represent her political party at the opening of this school.

Jemma is from Huddersfield, UK. She studied Forensic Science at The University of Lincoln. She has traveled to many countries all over Asia and Australasia including Vietnam, Malaysia, Thailand, Lao and Cambodia. She fell in love with teaching after doing some volunteer work in Indonesia. She achieved a life goal of traveling around South East Asia and Australasia for a year after university. She lived and worked for a year in New Zealand after traveling. Her interest include kayaking, snorkeling and traveling.

Life in Beijing.
Beijing is a great place to teach in China. It has a great mix of western luxury and Chinese culture. In the centre you can find most of the comforts of home such as Starbucks and western food. You also have a lot of culture and heritage on your door step like The Forbidden City and The Great wall. At times in the centre you could forget you were in China. In Shijingshan you can immerse yourself in Chinese life (and shock some locals).
An average trip into the centre of Beijing into ‘Western town’ will take between 45 and 60 minutes on the subway (in my opinion the best way to get around Beijing at just RMB2 a journey). If you are after culture and heritage then Beijing is the centre of it all. The Forbidden City is easy to get to from the subway as is Tian’amen square. The Temple of heaven is also easy to get to and a good way to spend an afternoon just walking lazily around. There are various other Temples that you can almost feel secluded in (which is a rare feeling in Beijing). The Great Wall is reached easily by public bus and taxi combo and when I went it was almost deserted in parts (seriously I have photos with no one in!). In ‘Western town’ you can find a lot of home comforts like restaurants and coffee shops. You will start to crave western food. There is also a good western supermarket chain called ‘Jenny Lou’s’. This is great to get some of the things you miss from home.
Life in Shijingshan is more Chinese. You will get some inquisitive looks from the locals (a looking up and down, which I would normally associate with eyeing someone up in a bar, is pretty common). There are various Chinese restaurants around that are pretty good (a warning. Chinese food is nothing like you get back home). Shijingshan is a nice area to walk around and explore. There are some creature comforts around such as Carrefour; a French supermarket. It is the only place I can find bread that doesn’t taste like it’s been stored in a bag of sugar. Wanda Plaza is a good place to waste some time. It has plenty of shops and restaurants plus a cinema and an arcade. The arcade has everything you expect plus snooker and a roller disco.  The games are addictive and dispense tickets, so if you ever feel like your apartment is missing a novelty lamp and you have the time, a trip to the arcade is well worth a look. You will always have someone to socialize with. The teachers often meet up for dinner, drinks or shopping. Shijingshan is a great place to be and I really enjoy life here.

Dave is from Bristol, UK. He studied International Relations at The University of Lincoln. After university he travelled for a year around South East Asia and Australasia. He lived and worked in New Zealand for a year before returning to the UK to gain his TEFL qualification. He lists his achievements as throwing himself out of a plane, twice; canyon swinging and surviving post tropical storm white water rafting. Apart from putting his life danger he is also interested in international politics, football (well, Bristol Rovers who some would say are barely football) and travelling. Oh, and jokes so poor they’re good.

Aihua is an Irish run English school. It has three campuses; Gucheng and Chang yin out in the west of Beijing and Zhongguancun nearer the centre. The Gucheng centre in the headquarters and original sight of the school. Foreign teachers and Chinese teachers work together in class to deliver the curriculum. There are two types of class at the Gucheng campus; Full (fifteen students) and Mini (eight students). Full classes are taught over four hours with the foreign teacher delivering two 45 minute lessons and the Chinese teacher delivering the other two lessons. The Chinese teacher is present for the foreign teachers lessons to provide support. In the mini classes only the foreign teacher delivers two 45 minute lessons and the Chinese teacher is there to support and to summarize the lesson in the last ten minutes of the second lesson.  Teachers at the Gucheng centre can also expect to teach at various off-site public schools.
The Chang Yin and Chunguancun centre have lessons solely taught by foreign teachers. Chinese study advisors are assigned to each lesson and are on hand to offer support and guidance throughout the course.
When I arrived at Aihua I was new to teaching and maybe a bit oblivious to the things that I should be concerned about when starting at a new school. How are classes run? What are the books like? What resources are available to me? What are the students like?
As a new teacher I was very glad to have the support and guidance of an experienced and FRIENDLY Chinese co-teacher (You hear horror stories of foreigners brought to China to literally repeat words for a control freak.). I find my co-teacher is the most important resource I have in the class. Whether it’s modeling a conversation or demonstrating a game they are always there to help.
The main books taught are Super Kids. They are fantastic and most importantly grammatically correct. I have on many occasions flicked through English books in the public schools, allegedly written under the guidance of a native speaker, and been unable to really tell what is being taught. The Super Kids books are great. They are colourful and exciting and keep the students interest. Importantly for teachers they are well structured and easy to teach. You develop a pattern to your lesson plans that make planning them a breeze. Another book I teach is New Interchange. This series of books are a higher level aimed at adults and young adults. They are again well structured and easy to plan for. I have to be a bit more creative in these classes as the students are usually around 11 -14. So making them more relevant and interesting to the students takes a little more time. Even though they are harder to plan for, I find them the most rewarding classes.
To help with planning there are many different resources available. There are FCs for the Super Kids and Super Tots books, as well as posters, VCDs and CDs. Teachers books are available for all the books taught a Aihua, which offer activity ideas and guidance. You also have access to a wealth of knowledge from the other teachers. There is always someone around that can offer a good idea or a bit of advice that will save you time thinking of activities. In the classrooms there are whiteboards or blackboards, computers with projectors and of course your co-teacher, who can help with any discipline issues in your class.
Perhaps my biggest concern I had before I started was ‘what should I expect the students to be like?’ Before I arrived I heard that Chinese children were treated like royalty (Little emperors and Empresses). This I find to be generally true when out and about. In class you can expect students to be filled with energy and wild but I would rarely say naughty. Students with energy are much more enjoyable and easy to teach than the students that sit and wait to be chosen to answer a question. The main fear I had was that students wouldn’t like me and just turn off in lesson. They will like you whatever you do. They are amused by everything. I have shown them the worst magic trick ever attempted by a person of sound body and mind and still they laugh (the old disappearing pencil behind the ear trick is always a good one for the younger kids). Typically, the students are aged between 6- 10 for the Super Kids books, 4-6 for Super Tots and 10+ for Get Ahead and New Interchange.
The reason for coming to China was a love of teaching children and for new experiences. However, the reason for staying is the people. Both the students I teach and the people I work with are fantastic.

Ciara is from Galway, Ireland.  She studied Design and Technology at Dun Laoghaire Institute of Art . Ciara has traveled to America, Canada, France, Spain, Germany, England and Morrocco. Ciara’s interests include reading, watching films, nature and socialising with friends.

Working at Aihua is definitely a challenge.  There is always something new to learn and we are always learning as a team.  Not only do we strive to be the best and improve our teaching skills, but we also continually learn about each other’s cultures.  It is definitely fun and exciting place to work at Aihua, as there is always something happening in the area around the school and there is always something new to see. The staff employed at the school is top-notch, as they are friendly and out-going and always willing to help each other out.

In Beijing, anything that you need on a daily basis is available within walking distance.  There are markets, shopping malls, cinemas, parks, and around every corner there is someone selling something on the side of the street; be it food, trinkets or DVDs.  The people are exceedingly friendly, seemingly willing to go out of their way to help you and lend a helping hand when necessary.  The public transportation in Shijingshan is very good, allowing you to get most places you need in a short amount of time.  Being a foreigner in Shijingshan, you must be prepared to stand out in the crowd.  Sometimes, you will attract a crowd on your very own!  Beijing has its downsides, though.  Most prominent among them are the ever-present dust that hangs in the air and the inability to drink water as it comes from the tap.  All in all, however, life in Beijing is very enjoyable, you can’t put a price on experiencing a new culture and way of life.  It has opened my eyes to many things and I will always remember my time in Aihua and Beijing with fond memories.

David is from Washington, DC, in the USA.  He studied Classical Literature at the University of Mary Washington in Fredericksburg, Virginia.  David has traveled to Italy, Switzerland, Germany and China.  His  interests include playing music, painting models, cycling and reading.

A Day in Beijing: A Foreign Teacher’s Tale

It was to the distant crowing of some caged rooster that I awoke this morning. The cold, grey light to which I have grown so accustomed filtered its way through the drapes, filling my bedroom with a warm amber glow. With a practiced hand, I grabbed my mobile phone from the bedside table where it still greedily fed itself upon the electricity coursing from the wall socket to which it was tethered. The display, even though dim, clearly stated the time: 05:47. It’s no use, I thought to myself. The alarm’s going to sound soon. Might as well do it now.

A scant few moments later, I was upright and the bedding that had once cradled me, offering me warmth and security, found itself tidily arranged as it had at the origin of each morning before. On light feet, I journeyed from the dimly lit haven where, until recently, I had been sleeping, into the bright halls that made up the remainder of my home. Even at this early hour, I could hear my neighbors beginning to prepare themselves for a day’s work of home renovations. Smiling to myself, I entered the bathroom. Good thing you’re up. At least you’ll get a shower before they find some way to turn off the water.

The water burst from the white plastic shower-head like magma erupting from a volcano pent up far too long. As each bead fell against my skin, it filled me with simultaneous sensations of pain and ecstasy – as though each droplet of water acted as a penance for some unnamed sin committed in my past. Before long, the heat and exhilaration of the water shook the groggy remnants of the previous night’s revelry from my mind and I could focus on the day ahead of me. Six classes awaited me that day – three in each of two different schools, neither of which were a long way off from my current location. With body and soul refreshed, I quickly dressed myself and once more stepped into the blinding light.

Settling myself on the couch, I picked up my digital reader, which had loaded itself with the previous day’s news from various news agencies from around the world. Immediately, I became surrounded by images of violence, greed, and hate, the same way it happens each morning. The names and places may change from time to time, but the stories themselves remain ever the same. The impoverished rebels of some country I couldn’t place on a map had taken three people hostage and demand international recognition for their safe return. A domestic dispute in Hamburg had left a father imprisoned and a child motherless. An American politician elected on the platform of morality and the sanctity of marriage has admitted to fathering two children out of wedlock. Why do I continue to do this to myself, day after day, I thought shortly before I sighed in disgust before setting the reader back on the coffee table and fitting my feet into the black leather shoes that would contain them, like miniature prisons, for the remainder of the day. And then it was out the door, moving from my own sanctuary enshrining the west and its way of life. The time had come to re-enter China.

The moment I stepped out of the familiarity of my quiet apartment, I was thrust into the chaos and confusion of the world around me. A man squatted upon the ground in the hallway outside my door, holding a light-bulb in his hand. He looked at me and held up the object as if it were a relic he had captured after a week-long military campaign in the heart of some distant land. His wide, toothless, grin was infectious and I couldn’t help but give him a smile and greet him with a simple, “[Good morning.]” He returned my salutation and immediately set himself upon the task of closing his eyes and humming to himself.

Around the corner, I looked upon the lifts. One of the two lifts in the building displayed its all-to-familiar red sign stating, “[Now broken.]” The other rested upon the eighteenth floor, so I pressed the button to summon it down to me and began re-reading my plan for this morning’s lesson. I became lost in the preparation for this lesson, imagining each step and the various ways it could go. I reread the page three times before I looked up at the lift, surprised that it had not yet arrived at its destination. The display told me that it still lay on the eighteenth floor. Well, no use waiting around for it. With a quick turn, I entered the stairwell and, holding my telephone aloft to light the pitch-dark path, began with descent to the ground floor.

Upon exiting the building, I was, for the first time that morning, struck by the full glaring force of the Beijing sun. It pierced the grey haze in the clouds and couldn’t escape, all the while reflecting off of every airborne particulate it met. Quickly unlocking my bicycle, I mounted it and was soon on my way.

Roughly halfway between my home and my class, I came upon an old man making food on a road-side stall. I stopped my bike and dismounted. “[Hello. I'd like one of those,]” I say. He looks at me and smiles, responding while beginning to cook my food, “[Oh! You can speak Chinese. How long have you been in China?]” How many times have I had this conversation now? It’s got to be one that I have at least once a day. Just as he prepared my food without any thought, I conducted the conversation while paying no mind to it – allowing my mind to drift from one topic to the next until it was suddenly brought back with the all the force of a sledgehammer meeting a wall – “[Would you like hot peppers?]” I nodded my response to this question, paid the man and cycled over to the nearby park where I would eat my breakfast.

It was barely even eight o’clock and the park was swarming with life. Old men and women practiced Taijiquan on the grass-covered hills to my left, while younger couples danced to music on the courtyard to my right. Young children played in the water of the fountain immediately before me. Incredible, I thought. At home, only tourists looking to cram in as many activities into a day as they managed to shove shirts into their backpacks would come to the park this early in the morning, but yet here they are, in masses, doing what they do.

In no real length of time, I forced myself up from the bench where I had been sitting and cycled the remainder of the way to the school. I entered the building, entered the classroom, and entered the trance of teaching. Before I knew it, the third class had ended and it was time for me to leave. Saying my goodbyes to the young Chinese woman with whom I had been teaching, I once again mounted my bicycle and swiftly carried myself to a local coffee-shop.

Settling down in my usual bench, I told the young waitress that I’d like a Brazilian coffee and pulled out a stack of exams that needed corrections. Just as I had in the classroom, I entered a sort of trance while marking the papers, such that I did not notice the coffee that sat on the table in front of me until I had finished the first class. The coffee, although grown somewhat cool in its long rest upon the table’s surface, was bitter and strong. In short, it was the perfect cup. I nursed it while I continued working my way through the papers laid out before me.

It was shortly before noon before my mobile phone chirped softly from its hiding place in my pocket, indicating that a message had been received. I pulled it out and had a quick read through what it had to say. A fellow teacher had written me, “Hey, our afternoon class has been canceled. Thought you’d like to know. Cheers!” I set myself to the task of finishing the paperwork ahead of me, one which was finished before noon had even arrived. I packed up my belongings and paid the bill for my coffee.

There I was, with the rest of the day free from any responsibility and pre-established plans, save meeting up with a few of the other foreign teachers at a local bar later in the evening. This is it. You’ve got the time free. Go and see something historic. Mounting my bicycle, yet again, I quickly returned home to change into something comfortable and set out again.

Instead, I sat down upon the couch and picked up my digital reader once again and fell into Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. The hours passed by until I realized that the sun had begun to finish its daily course and night had begun to draw her starless veil over the skyline of Beijing.

As the scents of my neighbors’ cooking wafted into the apartment, I realized that I had gone the day without eating anything apart from a light breakfast roughly ten hours earlier. Deciding on a course of action, I sent an SMS message out to a few of the other teachers, seeing if they wanted to join me for dinner, but all replies were negative. Wandering into the rapidly darkening kitchen, I set myself to the task of chopping vegetables and potatoes and stir-frying them.

Soon, the apartment was filled with a heavenly aroma that drove out the earlier ones originating from neighbor’s apartments. After washing up, I settled myself at the table with a beer and consumed the meal I had laid out before me. With each bite, I reminded myself of the distance between my current life and the home that I had left behind. My laptop computer lay at the other side of the table, and I opened it in a moment of homesickness. Flipping through old pictures just highlighted the life that I had given up to come here and form a new one.

Whether my past life was better or worse than the one I live now is a point for continual debate, usually based on the day’s events. The one thing on the matter that I can say with any degree of certainty is that this is an experience I’m glad I didn’t pass up.