Whenever I have allergy problems, I start to clean. I have a problem with mold, so for the two weeks we’ve lived here, I’ve been suspecting the black mold on the bathroom ceiling as a factor in my breathing problems. This morning, a Saturday, I tackled the problem with Mr. Muscle, a cleaning product, a broom, a scrub brush, and the shower faucet which is on a flexible hose. I started in one end, and did a little at a time. I realized early that some of the plaster was coming down, but I saw that the under coat was whiter than that which was coming down. So, I kept on, and then I realized that the first section was coming down even more. So, now, we have a fan blowing in the bathroom and the window is open. Perhaps when it dries somewhat, we can sweep down the peeling pieces. How long until the undercoat is black again?

The first week of class is complete. I have 2 sections of sophomore oral English on OLD campus, and 4 on NEW campus. The school thinks the level of competence, as measured by some exam, is lesser on the OLD, but so far, I have found it to be about the same. The OLD has a three year program while the NEW is a four year degree. I also have one writing class, for a different department. These people are not English majors, but for some reason need some classes in English. The department is called, “School of International Studies.” Here the level of competence in use of English is quite low, and it will be a challenge both for them and for me. In all, I have about 240 students.
For my first class in all sections, I stated my name and where I am from and said, “I am here because I love people and I love to teach.” Next it was their turn. Each said, “My name is—- I am from —. ” When it came to why we are here, though, there were some interesting answers, among them “I don’t know.”
My Dear Husband has even more students, all on NEW campus. At first, his load seemed the lighter one physically, but more difficult as to subject matter. He has a class called, Introduction to English Speaking Countries. It starts with United Kingdom, and not until book 2 does it arrive at USA. I know that one question on an old “Test of English Mastery” known here as the dreaded “TEM 1-10”
is, “What is the government of New Zealand?” and now I know where to find the answer. It is a good thing that I don’t have to pass those TEMs which are coming out of UK.
Since he had fewer hours, he was given a class from the other department, School of International Studies. To his surprise, it was a double class, 66 students instead of 33. This class, not English majors, meets twice a week, while the English majors meet only once a week. He also has 2 or 3 sections of oral English for English majors. In all, about 300 students.
There is another American teacher here, a young man from Atlanta. He has a similar load. He and Dear Husband are collaborating on the preparations. We will all be using a course I devised in 2009. We call it ORAL ENGLISH: PUBLIC SPEAKING. It includes speeches, dramatic reading, presentation of a skit, and practice teaching. It also includes directed listening and evaluations. They have already started on this, while I will be starting next week. So, we’ve all gotten through week 1.

I love the English language. It is strong and powerful, the language of kings and conquerors. It is soft and gentle, the language of mothers and lovers. It is stately, the language of diplomats. It is fast paced, the language of trade. It is a river flowing around the world. It is old, old, old, and new every day. In its spelling, it bears the marks of its history: Jutes, Angles, Saxons, Picts, Norsemen, Romans, Normans, Indians, Australians, Chinese, Japanese, Native Americans, ancient and modern peoples; all have added to this marvelous language. I love reading English literature, both old and new. Each writer writes English in his own way, with his own cadence. I love great speeches. Each speaker speaks in his own voice. And, I love to write. I love choosing each word for its particular meaning. I love to organize my thoughts in a way that makes them understandable to someone else. I love to connect with other people through words, mind to mind, heart to heart. English is my native language, but I do not take it for granted. I study, I ponder, I read, write and talk. I notice it. I learn new words, new phrases, new constructions, new intonations. English is a living language. I love it.

Today, Monday here, I rode the school bus to the Old Campus for my first classes. The bus left at 7 am for a 7:20 arrival at the school, with stops for the children at their schools. We live in an apartment complex with other teachers, students and administrators of our school. So, this bus is provided for transportation for these specific destinations. At first I thought something was wrong with the bus, as I heard the engine laboring, and we slowed down. Gradually I realized that the driver cut the engine to coast to a stop at the traffic lights. When I got off the bus, a student met me and directed me to my first classroom, where “welcome to our class” was written in fancy letters on the chalkboard. There are 30 students, only one of which is a young man. It is a teachers’ college— few men choose this career path.
I was surprised by the competence of the students, since I had been led to expect a low level on this campus. The class was active and responsive. It’s still not clear to me which textbook we should be using, since not everyone had one. Theirs have CD’s, mine doesn’t. No worries, I have my own plans anyway. This is an ORAL class, so lots of talking is involved, and not my own. It’s a sophomore class, the freshmen are involved in their mandatory military training for 3 weeks. A c;ass period consists of 2 45 minute sessions with a break between. After that class I did the same thing with a new group of 29 young women. This class was on floor 2, but the entry level floor is floor 0, so I had to go up 2 levels to get to floor 2. Good thing I have practice on all those stairs.
My dear husband has the “light” schedule with only 18 class hours (an hour is 45 minutes). We had a choice, but I did not want to teach the Introduction to English Speaking Countries, and he did. So, I have oral classes and one writing class with 22 hours altogether. The orals are some freshman level, some sophomore level. So actually several preparations.
The school is expecting another couple from England to arrive, but they have some problem with their visas. The hope is that they will arrive by the end of the month, and take over some of the load we are now carrying. There is another Foreign Teacher of English here, a young man from Atlanta. We are working together on some planning, at least he and DH (dear Husband) are. And, he loves to cook, and his food is tasty.

So, by 11:20, I was finished with the teaching for this day, and came home to cook up some noodles and vegetables. I used the drinking water to cook the noodles and could not bear to drain that water away as we do in the states. So, I grated some carrots, a potato, and some ginger and cooked them in that water for a soup for this evening. I hope it tastes good. Don’t know what else will go with it yet. Perhaps some rice.
A repair man came to fix the toilet, and DH came home from the New Campus. After lunch we took naps, and DH got up to go back to school, about a 20 minute walk, where he has an afternoon class.
Still must clean up the kitchen mess, do some work for tomorrow, and that is our first day.

We’ve arrived in Huanggang, Hubei Province, China. The trip was “uneventful” and although we were late getting into Shanghai, we still made the connection with a few minutes to spare. It is HOT here and HUMID. We’ve done a little shopping, a little cleaning, and some getting settled. That’s all for now, more later.

We received the visas, and bought the tickets today! The modern world is continually amazing! We bought online using that magic piece of plastic. Next use the computer, to “go” to the bank, and pay the bill. Amazing. So, we leave home on the 28 for our next wonderful adventure. Check in again to see where we are.

Today I’m feeling the press of time for all that remains to be done. I checked the airlines again, and there aren’t many seats left on the flight I want, but still, we don’t have those visas yet. Hoping for tomorrow. Starting to pack, what to take for the year? I have a history of taking too much one trip, and not quite enough the next one. I thought about mailing some stuff ahead, but the post office lady said that the box I chose was too big, and not to worry about it. So, onward.

The new panel curtains look great in the front room. Although the new furniture will not arrive until after we
leave, the front room looks a lot better than it did just a few days ago. Our daughter commented, “It seems strange that you’re getting this all ready to leave it.” I replied, “I’m getting it ready to come home to it.”

We’ve had a delay in the visa process. Weeks ago we asked if we needed a certain form, because our reading of the consulate site indicated that we did. The visa service however said that teachers don’t need that form. But on Thursday, we learned that we do indeed need that form. So, we had to hurry to fax that form to the service in time for them to take all the forms to the consulate. We now look for the visas by end of next week, but it’s getting late to buy tickets. Still I feel strongly that I need the visas, before we buy the tickets.