"BLAH!!!!" Great Title to a an Extremely Long Entry...May include Experiences from Teaching in China

I'm Back

Sorry that it took me more than a month to get this entry out. Teaching your own language is tougher than it appears. Honestly, when I started writing this entry, it began, "after a week of classes..." Right now, it is week six of classes...so I am a little lazy. No, actually, it has been very busy for me. As time past, I just slowly added more and more on. This entry has grown, I have nurtured and raised it to be the monstrosity that you find before you.

Before beginning, I would strongly suggest taking at least one break halfway through. If you are stubborn and your adventurous...you can try to make it through in one seating. I would not recommend this though, it is extremely dangerous. There is substantial research relating my writing to brain damage...I don't have the facts in front of me, but it is out there. Pretty sure the Germans did the study. But they say extended periods of reading my written work can lead to brain damage. This entry came out to be 19 pages on Microsoft Word...I would consider that to amount to an 'extended period' of reading. I highly encourage you to take at least one break...the last thing I want is people complaining to me that since reading my blog, they can no longer comprehend the complexity of space.

Either way, Enjoy!

Prior to Start of Classes

So, I have been in Xinxiang for a few weeks and I have taken little trips out from the safety of campus into the city. If I am by myself, I don't go too far away...I don't want to get lost and somehow end up as a mail-order-bride...


Stereotypical Chinese Man: "Oh, she pretty girl."

Me: "What! I'm not a girl."

Stereotypical Chinese Man: "No matter, we sell you half price...call you defected unit. Dumb Americans still buy."


...with my luck and stupidity, that would happen to me. So, for the most part when I go out, I don't veer off of the main roads too often (I am starting to get a better understanding of the area though, and I can travel further without worrying of getting lost).

The first week I got to Xinxiang, the spring festival was coming to a close...­so firecrackers were constantly going off. When you walk down the street, little kids pop out of the window above you and shot off sparklers. In the distant you will see a streak of light followed by a burst.
If you are a light sleeper, coming to China during spring festival might not be the best idea. And it intensified as the festival came to an end. During the day, just strolling down the street, piles and piles of firecracker wrappers were everywhere. During the night, your room is in a constant state of illumination (even with the blinds closed). If you take New Years Eve and add 4th of July...­and put some flavor-busts of Arbor Day; make it close to 2 week celebration and you have Spring Festival.

On the first weekends here, Po-lin took me out to show me around the area directly outside of HNU. There is a cool little side street where a lot of the students go to eat or shop, and what is interesting about it is that most of the shops close down when school is out. The side street itself is pretty broken up; I can't remember the name for it¡­something broken. I have been told by numerous people many times now, both the English and Chinese versions of the name; however I am not good with names to begin with, let along being in a new city with 240 Chinese students who have both Chinese and English names...­yea, I am still just pointing to people or calling everyone Ice Cream (yes, I actually have a student who chose the English name of Ice Cream).
*Since I wrote this part back when I had only been here for two weeks, I have since learned the correct name...it is po lu (I am almost positive), but it means broken road.

That same weekend I was invited to dinner by Po-lin and Bob, and we were joined by a former art student of Po-lin's as well as a Canadian teacher (his parents are Chinese, so he speaks the language, but he can't read the characters). So we went out for Hotpot. Hotpot is basically a boiling pot of water (with some assortment of vegetables and what not in it), but each person gets their own. As a table or group you order all the food you want to share, and basically you just grab what you want and put it in the pot. So whatever you throw in...­cooks. I know, I know...­we are talking complicated stuff here.
You also have sauces that you can use for dipping, and afterwards you can drink the water like soup. It was very good, and it is a fun and very social meal...I think we were there for 3 or 4 hours.

Anyways, the Canadian teacher, David, was happy that another young teacher was in Xinxiang. David teaches a few classes at HNU, but he lives and teaches at another University. Majority of foreign teachers are...well, let us just say that people with grey hair greatly outnumber those of us that were not alive to see the US and China begin diplomatic relations. David is 28 and he is probably the closest to my age of 23. I teach students that are only 3-4 years younger to me. There are a few more teachers that are in there early thirties...­but I am still the young gun.

David had lots of advise for me...­he was the one that told me about a teacher who could not get the class to talk so she just left. We decided to meet the following day, and he would show me around a little bit and give me some advice. Advice was important to me, since the school simply told me where my classes were and gave me the books for the class. It is a daunting task to teach English...I didn't really know where to begin or what the students know already. I can guarantee that when people found out I was teaching English, they thought I was joking. Or at least thought the Chinese students were going to teach me English. I can honestly say that I have had more than one occasion before coming to China where someone would blatantly tell me to shut up because I made no sense...you're all nodding their head right now ("oh, Phil's an idiot...­I can totally see it").
Although, I like to think of myself as a Rambo-type character...­I will single handily ruin the Chinese economy, however it will be unintentionally. Think about it...­240 Chinese talking like I do...­no country will want to invest in them. No, No...­I can't say that, I don't want to be censored. In actuality, all my students are very good at speaking English and very eager to learn. I am trying my hardest to teach them correct English...so I am not teaching them anything that I think of.

The following day, David came to pick me up at HNU. He decided to show me the bus system that day. So we got on one of the buses that stop in front of the school and we were off. Four of the bus lines go between the train station and HNU. We had to transfer at the train station to another bus (we were going to David's university that he mainly teaches at), but we couldn't find the right bus. It was pretty hectic at the train station, since all the students were coming back to school, taxis and buses as well as other pedestrians and cars were going in different directions (the area was just a big circle). So we almost got ran over a few times...honks were coming from all directions, so it was hard trying to find there sources before you got hit. It also began to snow, which was awesome...­just adding more chaotic nature to the situation.

After being turned away from a few buses and almost being run over a couple times...we found the bus (apparently there are two different number 5 buses, and we needed to take one of them). I should say this first, David's university that he teaches at is outside of the city limits, and there are two or three more schools next to it. The bus was a tad bit on the crowded side; we were the last two of three to get on the bus. I was able to make my way out of the stairway before hitting a wall of people and bags. The door could hardly be closed. Because of so many people the windows fogged up very fast...the driver had to continually stop to wipe the windows down so she could see. It was fun holding on to dear life, in a hot and humid bus, as the window fogs up on the driver as she speeds through traffic.

We made it to the campus safely and my ass was only grabbed twice by the guy behind me (I hope it was an accident). We had to fight the crowd that was getting on the bus as we were getting off, but we made it out in one piece. We decided to go grab a bite to eat first at a store with a food court. For some odd reason it reminded me of K-mart...­kind-of dirty and messy. So we went to the food court, which basically took up one side of the building, little food stands along the wall. I had wanton soup (tasted very well, especially when it was getting colder out). I will say that I did attract some attention because of my looks (not that they were good, just my white complexion). The little boy that was the son of the Wanton soup seller stood and watched me eat for a while, until David yelled at him to leave.

We talked about what to do for class while we ate...­and it seems there is not much to know. The hardest thing to do was to get the students to talk. The most important thing to do in class was to get discussions going, with the exception of three topics; religion, and the other two were Tibet and Taiwan (simply because everyone feels passionately that Tibet and Taiwan are apart of China). I did come to the conclusion that if the students would not talk I would threaten/joke with them all saying that we can talk about a "T" word instead. As for the religion, I was not going to talk about that anytime soon (especially when it is in my contract as well as against the law in China for a foreigner to preach a religion to a Chinese person). One of the teachers told me that he accidentally mentioned something about one of the "T's" onetime, and the whole class just jumped on him, not literally...­though that would make a good movie;

"Join us next fall, as Harrison Ford...­gets jumped by Chinese students. The critically acclaimed movie that will touch your heart...­and a little bit of your soul: "T" Word. Do you have the guts to talk about the "T" this fall?"

Ok, maybe that soup I had earlier today had something else in it...­Ancient Chinese secret my ass. Anyways, David and other teachers told me to teach them whatever you want, as long as you get them to speak in English. That was very helpful...since I thought I was going to be teaching them Spanish...­big relief of my part. But on an un-sarcastic note, I was basically left with no idea what I was going to do for class, as well as the 18 or so weeks that followed. So I took the easy road out¡­I decided to do the typical "introduction" class for the first week. Not too ingenious on my behalf, but it would allow me to judge the classes speaking ability.

First Week of Class

So on the first day of the semester, February 25, I went to class with nothing written down...­basically bullshit my way through it. I mean, I don't want to say I didn't have anything planned...­that would make me a horrible teacher. In my head I wanted to have all the students introduce themselves and I will introduce myself...­oh my, umm yea, I guess I basically was going to class with nothing planned (I'm a horrible teacher).

So I made it to the class, almost right when the bell rung (I couldn't find the right room). Walking in it is definitely a different feeling...­absolute quite, with occasional whispers of "there he is, there he is." So there I am, in front of 28 students, all staring blankly at me. Now, before I go on, I should talk about my fear of public speaking. Now, it could be stemmed from my shyness, it could be from the continual abuse for the lack of ability in speaking (I was in speech therapy for most of my early years, and I am almost positive I have dyslexia...­and yes, I am teaching conversational English), or it could be simply something that is ingrained in my generic structure. Whatever the cause is before I speak to a group (that has there undying attention on me and absolutely quiet), my hands will start shaking and I get butterflies in my stomach. Nervous would be the best way to generalize this. However, that fear does not hold me back by any means...I try to put myself in situations that make nervous like that. It has become almost an adrenaline rush. So anyways, I was standing in front of the class...­and surprisingly, I was not nervous at all, I was feeling very comfortable. However, I did have a hesitation to how to start...­I account that for me being unprepared (imagine that!).

The classes only meet once a week, for 2 hours (with a 10 minute break in the middle signaled by a bell), so for my first class, the first half of the class went really well. I introduced myself, they introduced themselves...and it was break and I was feeling pretty good for being unprepared. I kind-of did a little laugh to myself (ha-ha, this is easy)...­well, that came back and bite me on the ass pretty fast. Anyways, the class got settled back down after break, I talked about how the class was going to work and about American culture (which is a lot harder to talk about than it sounds). This left me with about 25 minutes left of class...and you know how in the movies everything slows down when something is going wrong; say a car crash....that would be the best way to describe the last 25 minutes of my class. The students were even turning away because they couldn't watch the awkwardness and disaster that was happening in front of their eyes. I could have just imagined a row of Black people in the back of my class, yelling, screaming, and throwing popcorn at me with remarks like; "don't say that, don't say that...­oh my god, he gonna die!" or "He did not just say that!" First, I would like to apologize to anyone offended by any of my remarks; secondly you have no idea how bad the last 25 minutes were.

It was absolute quiet while I was trying to think of something to say (and of course I had gotten a song stuck in my head while I was up there, so this was going on in my head as I frantically thought up anything to say; "got to think, got to think, er, say something about that yummy yummy yummy I got love in my tummy"). Finally I remembered I wanted to get discussions going on certain topics...­so I asked my class what they thought about the Summer Olympics. You would think that someone would have an opinion or at least be excited about it...nothing though. No one said a thing. So I pointed to one of the students, he got up, and he said that they did not know what I was talking about (always a good sign). So I explained all the activities and sports that make up the Olympics. ­Finally he understood, but still had nothing to say. So I remembered what Po-lin had told me earlier if I got stuck...ask about their opinion of Mao Zedong. So like Pavarotii eating the last sandwich at a party, I went for it. And boy did I go for it...­I told the class that there are so many different views of Mao, and asked for their view point. Somewhere in the transition from me to them, though, it must have came out like this; "where can I get more information about Chairman Mao?" A student stood up and told me I can find a lot of books on Chairman Mao at the campus library (just like 'Reading Rainbow' all over again). I was kind-of baffled after that and just gave up.

On sheer luck and patients on behalf of both parties...class finished. The class monitor came up and I walked out with her (the class monitors are suppose to help you in class; keep the class in order and do other mindless tasks that you need done...this is not always the case, as they basically do nothing). Well, I got yelled at a little by her to be more prepared next time and all that jazz. I mean, I got through the class alive and that's all I cared about, but I took her advice and wrote down everything that I talked about, plus more topics just in case we run short. It was also one of my sophomore classes, so they had to be more talkative than my first class. WRONG!!! My second class was probably the hardest class for the whole week to get to talk. I had my lesson written up and I had added more thinking just in case I need to talk about something else. Well, my list...my trusty back-stabbing list...­lasted until the bell for break. That left another 40 minutes to burn (I was screwed).

So over the course of the break, I was scrambling to write anything down just so I had a list of topics. Well, as class resumed I had a few things I thought about discussing. But it was not enough...compared to the first class it was vastly worse. I don't know how, but I managed to get to the last 10 minutes of class (I must have blacked out for awhile). Anyways, I saw a class walk by the door, so I got extremely happy. Since I am a new teacher in a foreign country, I didn't want to do anything wrong and I didn't know if I could let my class out early or not. I know it sounds stupid, but then again look who is writing the blog. I was extremely happy though...probably happier the students. I had a big smile and I was a little giddy (yes, like one of those damn school girls). In mid-sentence, as I saw the class walk by, I stopped what I was saying and told the class; "Sweet, we can go!" I immediately started packing my stuff up, and I saw some of my students doing the same. As I got to the door and turned to see if anyone was following me...­the whole class was still sitting in their desks, no one was packing up their stuff anymore, and it was dead quiet. Then the really scary part, they all smile and waved bye to me...I mean it was freaky. So my mind began racing; why are they not leaving, why is it so quiet, and why is that guy looking at my crotch...­you know, the common questions that pop in your head when confronted by a class of Chinese students. I honestly second guessed myself; thinking that the students have to stay until the bell rings. Not sure what was going on, I told the students again, they can leave. Complete silence, so I told them that I could talk to them for the remaining ten minutes¡­this was instantly met with a sea of moans and I think someone mentioned "being so close." So I was already confused at this point, and it just got more confusing. I asked the class why they were moaning and told them again that they could leave, at this point someone was finally nice enough to explain to me that normally the teacher leaves the classroom first and then the students can leave. So I told them that in the US, the teacher is the last one to leave usually...we all had a good laugh and left together (it was a touching moment at the end of a disaster).

My first day of classes was a good experience. It allowed me to see the two extremes of how talkative the classes were. So my first class was the most talkative class, while my second class was the quietest I had. The rest of my week of classes went pretty good, it was also really nice to know that I could let the classes out whenever, although I would have to tell them a few times to leave.

I teach four freshmen classes and four sophomore classes, and they are all majoring in English. I can't see or hear a difference between freshmen and sophomore language ability. Although, to their credit, it is still only a couple weeks into classes and they are still very shy of me...­strange white man in your class blabbering on about who knows what, I would be terrified.

Like I said, I couldn't tell that much about their language ability between the grades; while it is hard to get them to talk, it is almost impossible to get them to give you a sign that they understand what you are saying. I didn't find out until the second day of classes that I was talking too fast for them. So that explained a lot from my first two classes the previous day.

It is extremely frustrating only because no one will bring it up that I am talking too fast or they don't understand what you are talking about. Even after telling every class to let me know if I talk to fast or they can't understand a word or phrase. I even resorted to writing on the board to throw something at me if I talk too fast. That got a few laughs, but no one threw anything at me.

It becomes very difficult to read the students reactions, only because they will all nod their heads as you talk or simply stare at you like a deer in headlights. On occasions, you may spot a confused look and you can repeat what you said slower. But those looks are few and far between. So, it is pretty annoying...especially after talking for most the class only to finish to people finally telling me that they didn't understand anything that I was talking about. I really contemplate straggling them and yelling at them to let me know if they don't understand.

I have talked to Bob a few times on the speed of speaking to the students. We both seem to agree that while it is important that they understand...­it is also important that they learn it at the normal speed, otherwise they will not be able to understand fluent English speakers. I like to think of it like music. For those musicians that are reading this extremely long blog, when you learn a new song, one of the most important things to do is to keep the tempo. If you slow the song down in order to get all the correct notes, you will keep that mentality to slow the song down to the speed you learned it at. If the students constantly hear the language at a slower speed, they will have a very difficult time to understand a fluent speaker. The students know a lot, however, it all goes to shit when I speak at my normal speed. It might be that it is too fast or that they are just not confident enough in their own ability, but without them hearing a fluent English speaker at normal speed they will never get past that. I talk a little bit slower than normal and I also repeat myself often and write things on the board...that all helps.

Another thing that I have struggled with is that they are all shy...­very shy. I can understand a little since I am the first foreigner to some, while for others I am just a very young foreigner. Even after four to five weeks of teaching them, it is still very hard to get them to talk. I know they want to talk too, since during the second week I had them write down suggestions for the class, and I had a few people write that they wanted plenty of opportunities to talk. However, when you try to have an open discussion and give them that opportunity...they just all look away from me. While it is very annoying when it happens, I think it is funny at the same time. The whole class has their attention on me, but once I say something about their turn to talk or their opinion or something along those lines...­their eyes turn away from me. It is as if my face was melting (like in Indiana Jones, however with less production value). On occasion one brave soul will peak up at me, our eyes would magically meet, their face would get a panicked look of horror, and they will turn away as fast as possible.

When they refuse to talk to me, I resort to the all-powerful force of the 'raise your hand' question. Those that are not aware of the awesomeness and lack of creativity of this kind of question...­be prepared, It will blow your mind. I will give you an example. We were talking about college experiences, and I had asked the class what their most memorable moments were. I had them talk in small groups first as I walked around, so I heard a few people mention that it was when they met their roommates or friends. After the small groups, I brought the class back as a whole to discuss exactly what they talked about in their smaller groups. This was of course met with silence and a sudden interest in the wall by the students. After that I pick up my shattered hope that they might talk, and I told them to raise their hand, just raise the hand (demonstrated with myself), if one of your memorable moments were when you met your roommate or friends. Yea, I was getting smart, I put the fact that I had heard at least 5 people already mention this in the small groups with the hopes that I would have at a bare minimum of five hands in the air. My hopes were shattered once again as no one raised their hand. At this point I tossed around the idea of drawing a dead panda on the board (Chinese do not like associating harm with a panda...you will never see the light of day again if you ever make that mistake). I was getting a little frustrated at this point. I pointed to one of the students I had heard say that meeting her roommates was memorable, and asked her why she isn't raising her hand. She meekly smiled and slowly raised her hand so the person next to her might be able to tell she is raising her hand. I succeeded in getting one person to raise their hand, if you could call that a raised hand. I had a little celebration in my head¡­and I don't want to say I gave up after that, but I did yield after I could not get any more people to raise their hand. To give you an analogy on how difficult and painful it is to get some of my students to talk; it is like piercing your own eyebrow with a tack you took off the wall...twice, and I should know because I did that.

I have come to the conclusion as to a possible reason for their shyness, which is¡­well, let's face it...I am hot. I don't like to toot my own horn, but "toot-toot!" Just kidding¡­it is actually just a little thing I like to call American Passport. That little booklet...wow, instantly turns you in to a handsome man. I am going to start a dating agency in America. Just come to me, pay a small service fee, and I will ship you off to the middle of nowhere in China. You will easily find what you are looking for...of course there will be a problem with the language barrier, but I will probably include a handy little English-Chinese phrase book (of course I will have to increase my service fee, but what is a few thousand dollars when it comes to your one true...possibly foreign...Love ). Back to my appearance, all the girls in my classes...­and a few of the guys (there about 25 girls and 5 guys in each class usually), all bring up the fact that I am very handsome. I will say that it does boost my confidence (although it could be a ploy by the students to get me to give them good grades).

They are not afraid to take pictures of me either. I will be busy writing something down or facing another direction talking to someone...­and out of nowhere I will hear a "click" sound or a flash. When I turn in the direction, I can sometimes catch someone putting away a camera or cell phone. I have also have had students ask me in the hallways if they could take a picture of me. A more specific example, I went to David's College once to talk a little to his class about the US as well as listen to his lesson. Well after class, David was showing a few students his High School year book...­and I would see a cell phone or camera pop out of the crowd, and take a picture of me...I just laughed at that. Finally someone was bold enough to ask me if they could take a picture of me. I laughed and told them it was fine. That just opened up the flood gates because out of nowhere cameras and cell phones appeared and started taking pictures of me. It was an odd experience. Afterwards, I had met the only American teacher at David's college, he is 59 (I think), but he joked saying, "This is the cute young guy all the students are talking about...I am jealous of you man. Before you came around, I was the best looking foreigner here." While his remarks are flattering...at the same time it is pathetic, since I am in competition with a 59 year old man on looks...and it is an uphill battle for me.

Aside from the struggles that I have noticed in the first week of class, word spread fast about a new, young foreign teacher. Students that our not in my classes track me down somehow. I don't know how they know where I am, but I have gotten people showing up at my door at 10:30 at night, people stopping me in the streets, and people that sit in on my classes. They will want to get me to tutor them or something else (remember, I have an American passport, very appealing to some...­American Citizenship anyone?). They will usually approach me and ask me if I have any friends and if I want to be their friend. It is hard to respond to this...­part of me doesn't want to be mean, but the other side of my conscious is unsure of what they mean by 'friend'. I don't want to say yes, and find out a couple weeks later that I'm dating her. Henan is a very poor Province, and if they find a foreigner with a passport from a wealthy country...­that is their ticket to a better life.

A couple weeks ago, a girl showed up at my door, she knew very little English (she was from town) and she kept asking me to teach her English and to be her friend. I kept telling her that I am very busy...­but to no avail. She would not leave. It got so bad that she started crying a little and I don't like to make people cry, so I told her I could meet with her once in awhile...but that I am very busy. It made her stop crying and she got really happy. She asked me if I have a phone, however, she showed me her cell phone (which I don't have here, however I do have a land-line phone that came with the apartment), so I told her I don't have a 'cell' phone, and I made it seem that I was disappointed that I didn't have a phone. I am very glad she did not notice the phone directly behind her, because that would have been awkward. Like I said, I don't like being mean or making people cry; however lying to them indirectly is fair game for me. So I was able to get her to leave...­and as of now, I have yet to see her again.

The first week of classes also allowed me to meet the rest of the foreign teachers (most of them were on vacation or went home for the break between the semesters, so I did not get to meet them until classes started). There are four Japanese teachers, one Korean teacher, two Ukrainian teachers, and three American teachers (besides myself). We all have the option of eating meals together. The meals are served in a little room in the Foreign Affairs compound. So it is nice that you don't have to worry about going out or cooking for yourself. Some of the teachers have their own complaints about the food, which is understandable as they have been eating it for a couple months now. I might feel the same way after a few more months, but as of now, I don't have any complaints. On the weekends, very few teachers will eat on campus. Usually this leaves myself (who doesn't know any Japanese and some Chinese), an old Japanese teacher (who knows very little English and a little Chinese), and a Ukrainian teacher (who knows very little English, and no Chinese or Japanese)...So meals on the weekend are very quite.

Aside from that...you lose weight very easy. The meals on campus always include rice, a little bit of meat, and a couple plates of vegetables. You usually feel very full, even though you haven't eaten that much. I know one of the teachers has lost 20 plus pounds since getting here. I think I lost some weight too...you can see all my ribs when I hold my arms parallel with the ground (although, I can't play any music with them yet...­last time I believe what I see on TV). I was told to eat more than you feel like, because you can get very bad headaches and get dizzy later on, even if you feel full after you eat. It did get me a good idea to attach to my dating service; I am also planning on having a fat camp too. If you want to lose a little extra weight, just come to my office adjacent to the airport (I will probably call my service, "Fat and Dateless"). Just pay me some money, and I'll ship you off to China.

The weekend after the first week of classes, I went with Po-lin and Bob to an old Buddhist temple within walking distance from the university. It was really interesting. We walked down a street and there was a little gateway/tunnel on the side of the road, and through it you came out into an enclosure with a little temple in the middle. On the side people were working on some restoration. A little history lesson here, during the Cultural Revolution in the late 60s to the 70s, the party attacked religions and old customs of China. Many temples were destroyed and lay unused for a long period of time. Only recently people are starting to turn back to religion, so a lot of temples are being restored (all off of donations). The temple we went to had just received a new Buddha statue, which one of the men in charge was very happy about. It is interesting to look at the inside. There was a picture on either side depicting the 18 disciples of Buddha/deities of Buddhism. In bigger temples, they will actually have statues for all 18, but in the smaller ones, like the one I was at, only pictures. There was also a picture of Confucius as well as a shrine to Chairman Mao¡­that was odd.

Second Week of Classes

The second week of classes was a little tricky for me. So the first week was pretty easy, I really did not have anything that complicated planned. The second week was when I actually had to have something worthwhile. Well, it was still hard for me to know exactly what to teach the students. I didn't know where they were at or what they needed to learn, so I turned to the good book (not the bible, the class book...silly Christians). Well, the class book is not really a good book, more of a crappy book...­but I had nowhere else to turn. Before the week started, I sat down and planned my lesson for the week (I had to plan two separate lessons, one for my freshmen classes and one for my sophomore classes). While I was at it, I made a loose outline for what lesson I was going to teach the rest of the weeks. I will say that the book was horrible, but again, I really did not know what I could teach them. To give you an idea of how bad the book was; my sophomore classes' book was all about debate. The first chapter was about whether or not the US should pass all students in school or if they should be able to fail/hold back students (with also a nice reference to President Clinton's first term in office...­I guess it could be worse, it could be whether black kids can attend school with white kids or not). The students could not get that into the discussion because the idea was so foreign to them (for them, if they fail a class they take a test. If they pass, they move on; if they don't pass, they can take the test over or the grade over). Needless to say, I lasted 3 classes with my new lesson plan before trashing it.

Before I gave up on my lesson plan, my first class did very good and they had fun with it (however, my first class is my best class). I was still feeling pretty good about it. In light of that feel good warmth, I can now account that to a possible fever. My first class is in fact one of my favorite classes, many of the students will talk...­so the class is really fun. They are also a freshmen class and their lesson was not too difficult. Students were talking and they understood what was going on, so I was happy. The next two classes completely changed my feelings. They were both sophomore classes...­and they are, hands down, the hardest classes to get to open up or talk. It is very odd, since they are sophomores, yet they are afraid to talk. It is not like I am the first foreign teacher for them (as the case with many of my freshmen), they have all been taught by at least one other foreign teacher their freshmen year and I know Bob teaches all sophomore English majors in writing. They are also the two main classes that have the hardest time understanding me (both speed and some words I use)...­which are the same words and speed that I use for my freshmen classes. Enough complaining about them, my lesson for them just did not take off. I thought, since the lessons for my sophomore classes were focused on debate, that it would be very fun classes. Wrong again! They did not really understand the concept of debate and the majority did not really find it fun. I tried to make it fun; I was running back and forth between the two sides helping people come up with something to say. It was difficult, because they would only say something that was written in the book. I tried to get them to think abstractly or outside the box...­but if it was not in the book, they did not want to say it.

This is something that I noticed with my students...they do not want to be wrong or left unprepared. Back to my first week when the students introduced themselves, they all sounded like robots. It is like their introduction is on retainer in their memory for when they have to introduce themselves. Like I mentioned about the sophomores in the debate; they are very hesitant about saying anything outside the box...afraid of being wrong. It is another reason why they are shy, they are afraid of saying something wrong or mispronunciation. They all speak very well; I hear them when they are talking in small groups. I also recently got an email from one of my students wondering if I would tell the class what we are going to do the following week so they can prepare. I do tell the class the general topic for the following week...which leaves me to believe she wants a more detailed explanation for the following week. Besides English conversation, I know in art the students are also afraid of doing something different or thinking outside the box. Po-lin has told me that in her class of eighty students...all their drawings look exactly the same. They use the same style and they start their drawing the same way. They all learn to draw the same way and they emulate it to the fullest. Po-lin has been trying very hard to break their will or in cleaner terminology, get them out of the ridged structure that they all use in drawing. I can't remember precisely what she did, but she was able to get the students to use a different technique in drawing (it was something like 'no straight lines'). Once her students drew pictures in this different way, they showed the pictures to their other art teachers...­and the other art teachers told the students that all their pictures were horrible...I found this interesting. I am just simply writing my observations. All students hold back for fear of being wrong doing something different, so it is not anything unique to China. It is just odd to see this through the eyes of the teacher, rather than the student.

Enough of that, back to the second week of classes...­I barely made it through my third class. As I walked to dinner (with the Charlie Brown music playing in my head), I was very unsure as to how I should continue. I could keep doing the lessons from the book or I could magically pull ideas out of my head in ways to teach conversational English. Well, a savior appeared to me...­in the form of an aging Chinese art teacher, Po-lin. In her thick Chinese accent, she helped give me pointers as to what to do. This was the best advice I had gotten the whole time in China as to how to teach. All the crappy teachers, like me, heed Po-lin's words. She told me to have my students write down anything they want to talk about as well as suggestions on an anonymous piece of paper. She told me this is the best way to get ideas of what my students want to talk about or their interests. The main goal I have is to get the students to talk and get discussions going with them...and the best way to do that is to find out their interests and what they want to talk about. They will be more excited and more willing to talk about something they are interested, rather than talk about something in a textbook or something I think up. So, that's what I did in every class that week...I took about twenty minutes to have the students write down suggestions and topics. It helped so much, some of the things they wrote down, I would have never thought of discussing (even though after reading some, it seemed obvious). Of course, twenty minutes did not fill up the whole class time (as much as I hoped the time-continuum would flux or do something to make the class periods shorten to about twenty-two minutes), I had to think of something else to occupy the remainder of class. I tried to think of something fun to do...but I kept going back to the fact that I used the book for the first three classes. So I resorted to using the remaining time to go over certain parts of the book. I was also hoping that compared to the book, my lessons the following week would appear astronomically better...I think I succeeded in that (although, I am sure a monkey sitting on a stool in front to the class would have been better than the book).

Chinese Bathhouse

On Thursday of the second week of teaching, I went to David's college to talk to his class as well as listen to David's lesson. It was interesting to see him teach, and it did gave me some good ideas for lessons. After class David wanted me to go to a Chinese Bathhouse (he told me about it a week earlier, since he had free tickets to it). I will be honest, I was a little skeptical...­I had asked him when he first told me what I would need to bring. They provide you with everything, he explained to me. I asked him if it was like Speedos or anything like that...he laughed and just reassured me that they provide you with everything (oh, yes...­thinking back to his laugh, it had a wickedness to it). I had a feeling I knew what it was going to be like, but after class he wanted to go...­and I was just not feeling it. But he said that we could go there for only a half an hour and we could leave. So I reluctantly said it was fine.

We got to the Bathhouse...which looked like a hotel. Well, there was a problem with the tickets David had, apparently only one can be used at a time. So if we decided to go, one of us would have to pay. David was able to talk to someone that worked there; to see if we could take a look around to see if it is was worth it. So, we basically got a guided tour of the bathhouse. The first place we were shown was the bath...

Now, I had kind-of suspected what I would find, but it was still awkward. We walk through the dressing room and around the corner into a giant humid room with a couple pools. It looked more Romanesque then Chinese; White and gold tiles, marble, gilded horse fountains, as well as white statues...so to me it looked like a Roman bathhouse. The Chinese aspect of the bath area came in the form of numerous naked Chinese men. Oh, and I forgot to mention, the moment we stepped into the bath area...­everyone seemed to stop what they were doing and they all began starting at the young white guy that was completely clothed. To say it was awkward, would vastly understate my feelings at the time. Not only did I feel awkward and out of place, I felt like a pompous ass. Here I was, a fully clothed foreigner, looking at the area...in which was inhabited by naked Chinese. The fact that I was fully clothed, made me feel like I was trying to assert myself as more civilized...it is not that I thinking that (it had more to do with societies views of being naked). A sense of my white heritage did creep out in my mind as I stood there; "Agh yes, these are fine specimens indeed...­that strapping young man right there looks stout in deed. Why, after five or six years of hard labor, we can put him out to stud...­yes, fine specimen in deed." I have to say I felt horrible of just standing there...­I could have just seen the employee that was showing me and David around, turn to me and say, "as you can see we Chinese look very similar to you. Our anatomy is the same, as well as our proportions of our body." Again, the only reason I felt so bad was that I was fully clothed...I mean if I was naked as well, I would not have felt like a pompous ass (however, the embarrassment and awkwardness would have reached the limit for me...­I have no idea what that limit is, I just know I would have embarrassment left over for all the people in the room to be embarrassed towards me too).

So David kept telling me things about how great the bath was and how relaxing it will be. I might have been willing to do it if there was another non-Chinese guy with us. I mean David's parents are from China, so he blends in...­I however standout like a neon light and my skin would probably exhibit the same principles as a neon light. So, that would attract attention of everyone in the area (I already attract enough attention with my clothes on...you take a naked Phil and place him in a room full of Chinese and you got a whole other spectacle to look at). Aside from the pasty exuberance of my skin, I also have the lovely attraction of my birthmark on the right side of my body. As much as I hate to say this, I still have my own problems with my birthmark. One part of me loves it, makes my different and standout; however the same time I hate it, because it makes me different and standout. It is the Gollum effect if you will (oh my fuck...I have showed my true nerdy-ness in a Lord of the Rings reference). So we have the foreign nature of my skin, as well as the birthmark...­you may ask; Phil, what else do you have that would make you standout anymore? Well, I found this out later...­very few young people go to the bathhouses (lots of older fat guys lying around...letting it all hang out). Even young Chinese boys or young adults attract attention from the normal patrons. Young, birthmarked, and white...­as well as I am 'handsome' as hell, you are looking at a quadruple threat from me. Those naked Chinese men would not be able to keep their eyes off me for a second.

Being in China for only a few weeks, it was a little too much for me to deal with. I basically decided right then and there...standing in the humid air with 50 plus naked Chinese men...­I was not going to do it. Our tour was not over though, so I did get to see the rest of the facilities at the bathhouse. It was pretty interesting. There was a theater, restaurant, internet cafe, hair salon, work-out area, ping-pong and pool tables, rooms filled with chairs (all with their own personal TVs), Message area, and a cubicle area (where the walls went up to the chest, and within each square held two beds and a TV). It was different¡­for me anyways, because I have never seen anything like that before.

Xinxiang Nightlife

The following Saturday, David wanted to show me the night life in Xinxiang. Bathhouses were out of the question for me...so David took me to a school dance. Ok, Ok...­why does it sound like David is gay and trying to "hook-up" with me. I mean, he took me to a bathhouse, which in the US has strong stereotypical association with homosexuality...and after that debacle wanted to go to a dance with me? However, I am not going to stoop myself to that level of accusing someone of being homosexual...­I only thought he might be gay a measly 50 times, maybe more. But I am above that level, it is the year 2008. I just simply assume everyone is gay...­that way there is no awkwardness once you find out. Just kidding, just kidding David is not gay and if he was I could care less. It just sounds funny once you hear about our adventures...and the fact that I say adventures does not help the situation at all. I am just making fun of it, since I am sure some people are thinking, "wow, Phil and this guy are getting pretty cozy...should Taylor be worried?"

Back to explaining the awesomeness that is the Chinese school dance. My viewpoints of a school dance are closely associated with the American School dance...­by that I mean intoxication, body grinding, and no prearranged dance moves (basically a mess of alcohol, sweat, and flailing body parts). I was quite surprised when I saw the Chinese version of the school dance. The best way to describe it is ballroom dancing meets 80's music, whose offspring turns out to be that shy, nerdy high school student that knows all the dance moves to every song and gets raped by the creepy old janitor. I think that sums it up nice and tightly. So anyways, some Chinese universities have these dances ever week (on Saturday and possibly Friday too). They are outside lasting from six to ten. The one we went to was at David's university and as we got closer to it I noticed groups of on-lookers surrounding the dancing area. In the dance area itself, all those that were dancing were in couples. It was all two or three step dancing...­I'm idiot and have no clue about the technicalities of dancing; I just know that whatever they were doing, they were good at it and they knew every move. The music was very traditional (I guess), but it had some nostalgia of 80s music to my ears. While there were students among the people there, there were surprisingly a lot of older people from the city itself there. Aside from the older couples that make you sigh "oh, that is lovely...­the elderly think they are young again," there was also an over abundance of creepy old men. David pointed out one of his school's leaders, who was dancing with a petite girl of college age. I guess it is common to see teachers or just older men dancing with younger girls. I can't say if the older men take advantage of the situation or anything, but hotels are readily available.

While David and I left to go to some clubs in the city that night, we did go to the same dance a following week. The reason we went back was to see the end of the dance (which is awesome). While the majority of the dance is comprised of couples doing two or three-step dances, usually at the end of the dance it starts to pick up. It surprised me when it happened, but after one of the "traditional" scratch 80s style songs ended, faster music took its place...and everyone got happy and ran to the dance floor (well, not really ran the old people might break a hip, but they scrambled as fast as they could go). To those that have had the 'privilege' to watch a musical (or those that had the agony to have a sister who loved to watch the same musical over and over again for a whole summer...­Newies has been engrained in my mind, thanks a lot Lisa), as well as those who ever saw a Michael Jackson music video...I can tell you this without a doubt, the Chinese definitely have. Not just seen a musical or a music video a few times, but they have studied it countless hours. They formed into rows of people, and then they started jumping up in the air, twirling, kicking, and shaking...­it was scary and at the same time hilarious because it was all in unison. I had to walk away because I was laughing so hard, and I am sure if they saw me laughing they would have gone after me...­but while still dancing (like Michael Jackson's "Triller" music video). So, while the majority of the school dance is made up of very conservative dancing, all paired up, and the occasional creepy old man...the end is phenomenal. There is no way you can be prepared for it, it will just happen and you will be struck with awe and amazement. If you ask me, "what do you wish to bring home from your time in China?" That would be a no brainer¡­I want to bring the glories of Chinese dancing back home. Picture this if you will;

You're at an American school dance...­so by that it is very much chaotic, sweaty, and body grinding. You push a button to change the music (your either next to the DJ or it is a magical button...it is my fantasy and I can make it however the fuck I want to; Just be glad I don't say there is dancing leprechaun, cause it can be very easy to add in dancing leprechauns that pop out of nowhere with a push of a button...think of the possibilities as you're being yelled at by someone or you're in trouble, and all of a sudden dancing leprechauns appear, instant crowd pleaser. Ok, this is starting to get very hard to follow...and rather stupid). So the music changes from a random rap song, to a grainy, scratchy Chinese song that sounds like it is from the 80s. People are a little confused; looking around like...well, let's face it; like the music stopped. You calmly stroll out to the middle of the dance floor, and just start dancing. You have no idea where your moves are coming from...it's like you have been imbued with the Dancing powers of Michael Bolton and Jane Fonda (surprisingly they are superb dancers). People instantly back away from you and stare at you in fascination. Then it happens. People start lining up in rows and following your moves. Soon everyone at the dance is lined up following you step for step. Awesome, Right?

Ok, enough of that.
I mentioned I went out to the clubs in Xinxiang. That was an interesting time, to say the least. Xinxiang has lots of people compared with a US city, and it also has lots of colleges and Universities. By those two facts, I assumed that there would be a big night life. I was greatly mistaken. After eight o'clock, the roads and streets start becoming empty. By ten o'clock, hardly anyone is out. There are four clubs (that I know of) in the city¡­and they are hit or miss as to whether there are people there. Some of the clubs have performers, like singers, dancers, and acrobats. So it is really fun to watch those.

Before talking about the rest of the night at the clubs, I should mention something about David. He is looking for a wife or at least a girlfriend (his mom wants him to find a traditional Chinese girl...my personal opinion is, he is 28 and he should be trying to find a girl for himself, not his mom. But that's me). It seems to me that every time I am with him he is always getting calls or text messages on his cell phone, but he also seems to be constantly approaching girls and talking to them and asking for their phone numbers. I am not sure if that is a common practice in China...that after talking to a complete stranger for a few seconds, you give them your phone number. Anyways, I almost feel that David uses me. Like I said, I stand out while David blends in, even though we are both foreigners. I feel like David's wing man...although I never agreed to it, just my presence helps him. For those that don't know what a wing man does...­I am not sure myself, simply because I have always been "that guy" that is too afraid to talk to girls or try to pick up girls. What I did (and what I am assuming the wing man does, since I have only heard mention of the name amongst guys), was I drew the women in. Again, I am not that attractive, so there is only a couple of reasons why they could have been drawn in; my passport or the glare off my skin (kind-of like when you die or for a bug...you always go towards the light). Some people would come up to me, or David would bring me to people. Since I could not hold a conversation in Chinese, David does all the talking. I usually just stand there...looking foreign-ish. They would ask questions about me, as well as David will have me say something to them in Chinese (usually resulting in a round of giggles from everyone, "he thinks he's Chinese"). Usually the conversations would result in David exchanging phone numbers. I felt like I was an opener for David to get a conversation going with girls. Very similar to how guys bring a dog on a walk to meet girls; the girl will be curious about the dog or think the dog is cute. Usually the guy will show the girls tricks that the dog can do...like speak. I felt like I was a fucking dog to David's ploy to pick up girls. On the bright side, it did allow me to listen and practice Chinese.

At one of the clubs, David started to talk to the bartenders (all of which were female). That was pretty funny, mainly accounting to the fact that they were all wasted. Some of them were tipping over and stumbling, and that didn't deter them from continuing to drink. I am pretty sure one of them past out on the ground for a few minutes too. They would all come over to us and talk to us for a while before going back to their bartending area. While the bartenders were funny to watch, I got mad at them a few times. They kept asking if they could drink one of my beers and sometimes they would not even ask and just grab it and drink it. It was very frustrating.

Third and Fourth Week of Classes

So, my third and fourth weeks of class went much better. They were very similar, both weeks we talked about University life. The suggestion idea was a life saver...imagine if I didn't find out the students were wondering the differences between US and Chinese university life, we would be talking about "how to shine at a job interview" or "telephones" (yes, these are actual names of the units in the book). I know the students would be distraught when they realized that I was not going to teach them the "shining" aspects of a job interview or telephone usage.
Actually they were very happy when they found out I was not using the book anymore. It was funny; back in the second week of classes, when I was getting suggestions and still using the book (just because I had nothing else planned after I decided to get the students suggestions). For my last two classes of the week, I honestly tried to use the book, but it was hard. In mid-sentence I stopped, and told the class I can't use the book anymore...­it was too horrible. For the rest of the class time we talked about whale Hunting/poaching (one student brought it up because some Japanese were caught illegally killing whales...strong resentment against the Japanese still holds sturdy in many pockets of China). So that was nice, it did allow me to see that the students would talk more with a topic they cared about. Although, I did not know what they were talking about at first since they pronounced "whale" as "wheel" ("the Japanese are killing wheels...­What!?!").

I also decided I was going to play a song to them each week...write the lyrics on the board, so they can follow along too. I think that they enjoy hearing different kinds of music, although they don't always like my music. The music my students like is pop music...­the backstreet boys, Michael Jackson, and Britney Spears. Since they like that type of music that is very happy, softer, and slow...­some of my taste in music makes them cringe. The first song I played was by (my favorite band) 'the Used', which they did not like at all. Another band that they hated was 'Flogging Molly', an Irish punk-rock band¡­the main reason they didn't like it was the song was too fast. It is a fun game to me to try and give them music that is different than they are use too...as well as to see their faces contort as the music starts.
I should say that not all the music I play to them is loud and fast, I alternate from louder songs with quiet songs. Usually on the quiet songs some of my students sing along, that is funny to hear (you have never laughed until you've heard a classroom of Chinese students, belt out a song that they have never heard before).

Besides the music every week, I have tried to add in games. It sounds harder then it seems (and it seemed hard from the beginning). I first looked to American games and that gave me some ideas. As classes go by, I get other ideas...just as long as it involves talking and is something different than just sitting in a classroom setting and discussing. One of the games I did the third week was Catch Phrase (I am assuming it is called Catch Phrase...I mean, recently I was telling my class about the game called "Mad Gab" however I was calling it "Mad Grab" until I actually was looking for some of the questions from it on the internet...­Dyslexia at its truest form). Catch Phrase worked out very well, although I didn't split the class into two teams and I didn't time it. I was more of a free-for-all. I would have one student come up to the front of the class and I would write a word down that they could only see and they would have to describe it to the rest of the class until someone figured out what word it was. Games and music do very well in disguising my total lack of teaching ability.

The rest of the class time during the third week was spent on introducing US University life. I did this through showing pictures and talking about my own college life. It was funny to show them the pictures because they were very vocal in what they saw. Every time I had a picture of Taylor, they would say something about how pretty she was. They loved that me and my roommates had a cat named Kevin. They also all got a kick out of my roommates and the stories I told about them. Overall, they really liked hearing about my experiences a lot.

The only thing that was bad was that I was talking the whole time (at least during the end of the class, I didn't talk that much when we played catch phrase). The following week I gave the students their turn to tell me about their college life in China. It is very different...lots of classes and studying, no real parties, dorm buildings were segregated by sex (you can't even enter if you of the other sex), and very crowded. I tried to get them to tell me about their experiences and I would add in something that is from the US (like comparing the US and Chinese university life). I did learn a lot; most of my students have anywhere from 18 to 24 classes a week (almost all are different classes that meet only once a week). All the students live in tiny dorms, eight to a room, so they were very jealous when they found out that we only have one other roommate in most dorms. There is no drinking age, so drinking does not have the same appeal as it does for students in the US. They also don't have that many parties because they are busy studying. They had a difficult time understanding that US students study a lot too, especially after I showed them pictures of some of the parties that can happen. I will say that the status of US students lowered in their eyes; it did rise back up after explain to them that we study a lot and that we take lots of pictures at parties (who takes pictures of people studying?).

That was a close call in giving a bad name to US college students. However, I might have caused the idea that the universities in the US are full of sex-addicts. I tried my hardest not to, but as I told the students how there are really no boundaries that prevent male and female students from visiting one another's room (they can't do that at HNU) and how this can lead to nights spent with someone from the opposite sex...­their smiles on their faces slowly melted away to shock and anguish. Some of my students, after I told them this, looked at me with fear...­like I was standing in front of the class in a bathrobe, swirling a glass of wine, hair slicked back, sporting a very thin mustache, and saying slowly in a deep voice, "hey pretty girl/boy, how 'bout you spend the night with a true American"...­Aghh!!! I have to stop, that is starting to freak me out. I am going to have nightmares tonight...­I'm just glad I hate bathrobes, I don't like to slick back my hair, and I can't even grow a mustache (the treat of a creepy Phil is adverted for now, or at least I hope people agree with me; that would be pretty sad if people think I am creepy even without the items mentioned above).

China is very conservative in many areas; sex is one of those areas. After explaining that it is simply the differences between cultures and it doesn't happen all the time; it is just out there. Some people came around and understood, although there were still a few people that still looked at me like I was a heathen. I also tried to deemphasize sex as much as possible since it does not happen as much as people's minds can work it in. I told my classes that it was more like slumber parties...­we braid each other's hair, tell ghost stories, call the football hunk Brad Greensly, and watch the latest babysitters club movie...­you know, normal slumber party things. Actually, this is another fib by me...­No one ever wants to braid hair, I still have to get all my babysitter club movies in to DVD format, and Brad Greensly (Damn, you Brad Greensly!!), he never answers his phone when I call.

It is getting easier to teach. Majority of my classes are opening up to me more, they are able to understand me better, and they are talking more...­the only exception are my two sophomore classes on Monday and Tuesday (it is like they have never heard English before). As long as the classes talk, it can be extremely fun to teach them. It gets hard when they don't talk, cause you just look like a babbling moron in front of a black board.


"That's all she wrote"
(that is what my Grandpa always said. Although in this situation I am making a big fool of myself.)

Haha, this is a huge, I mean HUGE, blog entry. This entry is bigger than any of my seminar paper I wrote in college. I figure, I should end it now and post it so people know I am ok...and to see what I have been up to.

A Side-Story of Herbert

I want to end on a high note, so I will tell a story that happened to me one morning as I woke up. As I woke up (yea, I should have gone with a different ending on the previous sentence or gone with a different beginning to this sentence...­but I am lazy right now, that's what a 19 page blog entry will do to you), anyways, I had class to get to so I groggily headed towards the shower. You will be surprised how well a nice shower in hot water that smells like rotten cabbage feels in the morning. As I came in to the bathroom, I turned on the shower and begin to take off my clothes (don't worry, this is not a graphic story by any means). As I was about to get in the shower, one foot raised over the lip of the tub...­I see a black movement in the bathtub. In my sleepy daze I looked at a little shape, after a few seconds of trying to figure out what it was, I jolted back in shock...­almost falling until I slammed my back into the bathroom door.

This is suspenseful, right? You are all probably on the edge of your seat wondering what is going to happen. What was that black movement in the bathtub? Will Phil put clothes back on? To answer your urgent questions, which I just forced into your mouth; it was a huge spider and no.

I am deathly afraid of spiders (except those little tiny ones that can be crushed by my impending thumb). The scariest movie of all times for me is Arachnophobia. While I will not watch it now, when I was younger I saw it. This is important, because I distinctly remember a shower scene (but this was not one of your happy-go-lucky college movie shower scenes...this was a pure evil, never close your eyes in the shower, type of scenes). In the scene, I remember one of the spiders falling from the ceiling or something like that, where it got in a girls hair or back while she was washing shampoo out of her eyes (at least I think that was what happened, my eyes were strangely covered for most of the movie).

After having my little sissy fit, I realized that the spider was not going to grow ten feet tall and pummel my face with its six legs of fury (I also realize that spiders have eight legs, for lack of better explanation I have deduced that a spider of at least ten feet of stature will need to have around two legs to support its girth...it also makes me sound smart, not too shabby for complete bullshit). I gained enough courage to get close to the bathtub and look in. The spider was about the size of a baseball...a simple thumb will not do the trick here. I am resourceful passionate humanitarian though, I was going to try to not hurt the spider and get him outside as safely as possible. The first thing I wanted to do was put him into a deep sleep, with some sort of tranquilizer. I didn't have my nifty spider tranquilizer with me and the only thing in the vicinity was a very strong air freshener. It was lemon and a very potent lemon at that. When you spray it, you will choke and if you have a cut, it will burn. I figured for a baseball size spider...­it will just pass out and I can save the day as I pick up the little scamp and carry it outside. So positioning the nozzle three inches from it, I gave it a good coating of lemon smell. The effects were immediate as it curled up into a ball. However, it only lasted about five seconds until one of its legs started to twitch. The obvious reaction on my part was to spray it again...­but for longer and closer. The only difference was the spider didn't twitch until ten seconds went by. I realized then that I was dealing with a tricky spider. I upped the ante. I took the air freshener can and rose it over the spider to give it a little tap, just enough to knock it out. I however forgot that the can had a sharp edge to it...poor spider, didn't even see it coming, still twitching from the effects of the lemon gas. Once I noticed I mortally wounded the spider, I became upset...just like George felt once he killed his mouse in Of Mice and Men (we probably have the same intelligence too). I had to do the right thing then...­so I pummeled the spider with the can (just as I thought it would have done to me if it magically grew ten feet tall...­know there's irony).

For those of you that think my story is over yet...­you are far mistaken. I had to give the spider a memorial service...­I mean I did kill him. As I stood naked next to the still running shower, rotten cabbage steam filling the room...I took a broom and slowly pushed the spider towards the drain. It was a touching moment...­something that even a simple ellipsis can't express...that I seem to use constantly...­as in too much...and of which I have no clue how to use properly.

I have since named the spider, Herbert, following the unfortunate accident, ­and I am positive there are more of Herbert's family members in my apartment. Having found the spider in the bathtub and vividly remembering the shower scene in Arachnophobia, the shower has become a tense area for me. For the week or two following the event, I did check everyday to make sure there was no Herbert waiting in the bathtub, on the shower curtain, and above the shower in the water heater. If a gob of shampoo falls on my shoulder, I kindly freak out for a second or two.


I am sure everyone is worried about my safety...­don't worry, I will keep everyone up to date on the Herbert situation in my apartment.




Hopefully you all enjoyed this entry. I plan on keeping up with them in the future...­but these first couples of weeks have been very busy for me.

Also, an update on CCC (Crappy Chinese Computer). It has started to randomly turn off anywhere from five minutes to 4 hours after turning it on.
Always nice to be typing a long email, only to loss it all as the computer turns off...for the fifth time.

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