Drawing from my Girl Scout years, I used an activity known in that old handbook as “Grab Bag Dramatics.”  It’s always a hit, whether in a Scout meeting, a birthday party, or an oral English class.  I put a few items in my purple cloth market bag.  Since I haven’t been here very long, I don’t have many items to use.  I gathered a change purse, a small packet of instant coffee, a plastic folder for holding class work, an old lid from a sauce pan, a small tube of hand cream, a glasses case, and a  white plastic decorative end of a curtain rod.  Since some of the rods in the apartment are up against the wall there isn’t room for the decoration, and thus, some of those are in the cupboard as “extra.”  This item is round at the end that would attach to the rod, then flares out in a cup shape and is capped with another piece with a ball at the end.

I divided the class into groups of 5 or 6, and asked each group to “grab” something from the bag and make up a skit using that item.  First I had to define the word “skit” which means a short play or drama, usually silly or funny, but sometimes serious.

In each class, someone drew the pan lid.  It served in the stories as a beggar’s plate, a dish for water, and an engagement ring, as the top was a circle through which you could put your finger.  In one story, it was a valuable heirloom made of silver.    In each class, someone drew the hand cream.  It served as the clue to a husband’s affair, a new item on the market, and medicine.

And in each class, someone drew that curtain rod decoration, and no one knew what it was.  So, as they asked, I said, “It doesn’t matter, it can be anything you want it to be.”  In every story, it was magic.  In one, it was a cup from which you could drink and drink and drink, but never become intoxicated.  In another, It was a cup which would fulfill your wishes, and in another, it was an heirloom that had been stolen, but because of its magical properties, the culprit was easily found. That item is “magic” indeed, because it made at least 30 shy Chinese students speak boldly in English.

I’ve realized that actually I have 5 oral classes on NEW campus, and 3 on OLD. Then my writing class, for a total of 9 classes, or 18 “hours.” I still haven’t actually counted the number of students, maybe I don’t really want to know.
Today I plan to go to the Kodak store and print the photos of all the students. Then this week, we’ll cut out those pictures and paste them on notecards with names on them. In this way, I can begin to put names with faces in each class. I so admire the principals I have known who seem to know each child in school by name. Of course, those children may be in the same school for 5-8 years, so there aren’t 300 new names to learn all at once. Still, it is an American ideal to know the students by name. It is not a Chinese ideal.

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.