The Routine

I am not adding to this as frequently as I had planned and it is because the day seems to go by so quickly.  Mike and I get up at six o’clock each morning; shower, dress and grab something to eat.  Monday to Thursday, we catch the tram down to the southeast side of the campus where many Lambton/Jiangnan students gather for half an hour each day to read a news bulletin that is printed out in English.  They also take the opportunity to practice their conversational skills at this time.  It is not mandatory that the English teachers attend this, but many of us do, and Mike decided to volunteer for this as well.  The kids love to see him, especially the girls—they think he is very handsome—and the coordinator of the program is grateful to have another person to speak English with the students. 

We also help them in linking the vocabulary to the context of the paragraph.  By the end of the week most of the students that attend this have assimilated the vocab and the information.  My three young friends today wanted to know about the interview process in Canada.

Talking with Chinese people with Michael around is interesting to watch.  At first they have trouble believing that he cannot speak Chinese and some are not convinced that he is not lying or tricking them.  They say ‘But you look Chinese”.  When he responds that his grandmother moved to Canada from China, and that his father was Cantonese, they still think that he should be able to speak the language.  It is difficult for many to understand that language is not genetic trait or that a Chinese person would not teach his or her child the language of the glorious Motherland.

Immediately following ‘English Corner’, I start work at the nearby building that is the North American teaching site.  I have 31 students in the eight o’clock class and 33 in the 1:30 class. The contract number for class is twenty-five, so I am paid 100 yuan per month extra per student. Yippee, that is about six bucks—doesn’t matter I didn’t come here for the money.  I will be getting 3 more students in the afternoon as one teacher has too many, as in way more than I have.  It is harder to teach such numbers, especially when there is such a variation in the student’s skill levels.    They are still treated very much like children during the first year of university.  They have to have attendance taken, they need a note if they are absent and none are allowed to have computers in their dormitories.  Many of them act very much like children and the incidents of cheating are extremely high.  I also collect several cell phones a day and I now keep them until the end of the week.  That is effective, although I have had many tragic pantomimes enacted for me when the kids leave the room

The classes are an hour and a half long.  English as a Foreign Language is supposed to be ‘fun’, but it is not here.  We have 3.5 days to complete each unit, where it should be a week, so we are expected to teach the way one would in a regular classroom and with all the information we have to cover each unit, many will fail.

Most of my kids will get the 80%   they need to pass-- some will get nearly perfect, some will not do well because they can’t really be bothered and some will fail because they haven’t got a clue.

I go home after the first class.  I try to walk back and listen to my own lessons on my mp3 player.  When I get there I check my mail etc.  (today, I am writing this)  and  will putter around the apartment.  Then Mike and I have lunch and I go back to the school.  After work I try to get some paperwork done, and then we have a drink, sometimes going down to the courtyard to sit in the sun.  The last few weeks have been really warm, almost too hot in the afternoon, but today it is quite cool and much easier to breathe.   This afternoon is supposed to get up to 25 again, and stay that way for another week.  Mike does most of the shopping for us; we generally eat breakfast and lunch here on school days, then have supper at one of the many cafeterias.  Weekends we do whatever comes to mind.   Mike has just come back from the grocery store (by bus) where he picked up a small chicken for sandwiches today. 

In the evening we go for dinner about six, come home and I get some more work done, if the spirit moves me, and then we read.  I am frequently asleep by 9:30.  Mike sometimes the CCTV news in English.

dining out on the street

Yvan, our son and hair, flew in from Wuhan on Saturday night the 29^th of Sept.  The North American teachers were having a barbeque (with coals) in the complex.  It was a “bring your own plates, meat and a dish to share” event.  We barbequed and ate outside.  Night seems to arrive about six for now, but evenings are pleasant; one may occasionally need a light jacket later in the evening if the breeze comes up.   Mike and I had to keep going to sit by the gate every so often to make sure that one of us was there when Yvan arrived.  We finally got a phone call from him saying that he had arrived at Wuxi and that he was en route in a cab.  Everyone assured us that the ride from the airport would be at least half an hour, so Mike and I sat down to eat our dinner. After about 20 minutes, I went back to the main gate to wait. And there he was, sitting patiently thinking that he had been forgotten.  After dinner we three escaped upstairs to drink a glass or two of red wine and talk about the last year.

The next night we went out for dinner.

First of all let me explain about the food available immediately off campus.  These are generally street vendors.  They arrive on the boulevard kitty-corner to the main gate around three p.m. and begin to set up shop. The cookers are heated up and the previously prepared items are laid out.   There are maybe 15 vendors there selling “take out” to eat at home or while continuing to stroll.  I buy much here, not because I am nervous of the food, but I can’t stand the smell coming from one of the stands.  A favourite here seems to be a fermented tofu of some sort and it smells absolutely foul, the oil it is cooked in that may  be fresh at the beginning of the day (or not) reeks for several meters around.  The only way that I can describe the smell is to tell you that it is to tofu as limburger cheese is to cheddar.  Worse.  In your face worse. 

One favorite vendor uses what seems to be a crepe batter.  The cook pours the batter on a hot griddle the shape and size of a large pizza pan.  As it cooks, one points at different ingredients offered (meat, cheese, eggs, vegetables, noodles) saying ‘jigga’ (that one) and it is added to the middle of the crepe, along with sauces. After the vegetables are hot, and the crepe brown, it is folded like a wide wrap and put in a brown bag and then in a clear plastic one.  Mike and I have had them (or a variation thereof) a couple of times and they seem to stay hot until we get into the apartment.  Another vendor sells sweet cakes and little meat pies.  I particularly like the sweet potato stall.  Cooked perfectly and piping hot.   All these things are common street vendor items. 

But Barbeque is different. It is just as easily found, but a whole meal rather than quick take away.

About a ten minute walk from the front gates is a side street; an illegal market that gets cleared out every so often.  After a couple of weeks the vendors all move back into their semi-permanent stalls. Dumpling stalls, bakery goods, popcorn, bike sales and repairs, fruit and veg stands; and lots of restaurants, under tarp, with plastic tables and chairs.

There one finds Barbeque.  Everything is prepared, raw, on skewers: bread, tofu, thin onions, garlic, aubergine, zucchini, meats, cakes and mushrooms.  You name it.

 Mike, a couple of new friends and Yvan.  Dinner for five was just over 100 yuan, including four beers.

I believe they were inspecting a coin.

The cook gives you a basket and you fill it up with the items you want, pay for it and then it is put on a grill. When cooked, they serve it on metal trays covered with a plastic bag to your table.  Along with a couple of Chinese not-quite beer you have supper.

If you have the need to for dessert, it can be satisfied by going to the popcorn stand where the venders use an old pressure cooker with the valve taken off.  Oil and sugar is put in with the popping corn which is then stirred with a wire through the top of the lid.  If you are really fancy the vendor breaks up a chocolate bar into the mix—pretty good, actually.

Taking Tea to China

Little gifts are appreciated in China, so I picked up a couple large bags of Werther's candies, some maple syrup candies and a couple of boxes of Ceylon tea flavoured with real maple sugar.  Last Satuday, the 30th was the Moon Festival, the remains of some sort of harvest festival.  Everybody gives and receives gifts, generally moon cakes, a round fruit paste pastry.  Not having any, I gave the each member of my two classes three Werthers each.  They were as delighted as young children.  We looked at the bag, and saw the two languages discussed candies in English.

The fellow in the printing department is a real sweetie.  I understand that I have face as he offered me an expensive cigarette on our third meeting.  He is very helpful and is to be pampered, so I gave him a bag with some Werthers, some maple syrup candy and a few tea bags. 

All that effort...

In order for Mike to go to china for four months, as visitor's visas are a maximum of sixty days, we had to get our marriage license validated by Chinese consulate. This seemingly simple procedure was far more complex. First we had to get a stamped photo copy of our licence from the Ontario government. About forty-five dollars shipping and handling. Then, notarization by a lawyer, twenty dollars. The notarized document then had to be sent back to another branch of the Ontario government to have the lawyer's stamp, licence number and signature authorized. Again, about forty-five dollars. Next a trip to Toronto to the Chinese consulate; we'd planned to dash to Toronto to be there for one and then slip out of the city before rush hour. No problemo. Ha. When we got to the consulate, we discovered that because of some changes they had made in processing visas, they were only opening the consulate from nine to eleven a.m. On weekdays. They had not updated this particular tidbit on their website. So we had to spend the night in Toronto, rather than drive back to Petrolia and then make another return trip. So, with no suitcase or toothbrush, we set found a place to stay on Spadina. Very elegant, very basic and only two hundred dollars--it would be four hundred the following night due to the start of the Toronto film festival. We went out to dinner with Michael's sister, also visiting Toronto, and her son and his partner; dinner at a seafood restaurant that served trays of fresh oysters. The next morning we returned back to the consulate, duplicated the documents, filled out a form, and were told to return Monday to pick it up, and bring sixty-five dollars cash. Fortunately, Michael's nephew kindly picked it up and mailed it back to us 'expedited'. The darned thing cost us about six hundred dollars all told, but now we have it to present to the police in Wuxi when we register with with them within the first week of our stay there. So, far, no one has even asked us about this piece of paper, but apparently we have a trip coming up this week to the police station. Below is the six hundred dollar document. 

Connected and Awake-- ready to blog.

Leaving Sarnia was the most traumatic part of the trip.  Service there was great; I recommend it to anyone going on a long-haul flight.  It takes about two minutes to check the bag, shake you down and pass you into the boarding area.  When you get to Toronto, you move through a secure area of the airport to your international flight and are never checked again, apart from a scan of your boarding pass.

The scariest thing about the trip was the plane from Sarnia to Toronto.  I think it is called a Beech Craft, and appears to be a tin can with lots of bolts. It seats about 24 in 12 rows, so one passenger per side. The aisle is about 14 inches wide.  The charming young steward doubled as the co-pilot or, I hope, the other way round. Because it is so small one can hear every groan and squeak, as well as the thuuuunk when the landing gear descends, generally a subtle comforting sound on a jumbo.

The flight was long and really uneventful.  After travelling with Air New Zealand for the last few long-haul flights, we had the opportunity to re-discover just how spectacularly bad Air Canada food can be.  The trip is only difficult in that one really needs to get at least 8 hours sleep in order to be relatively aware once reaching China. However the whole flight, by taking the day-time polar route, takes place in full sunlight.  All the blinds have to remain shut for anyone to get some sleep; but some folks just can’t resist opening them up to see the bank of clouds underneath the plane. Fortunately Mike and I had packed our sleeping masks in the carry on, so we were able to sleep relatively undisturbed by light pollution.  

Arrival was relatively easy.  We first had to stop to have our passport and visas checked then picked up our luggage, both taking a surprisingly short time. The plane had landed more than an hour early, so when we reached Shanghai Airport, there was no one there to meet us.  Fortunately, we spotted some other folks and upon hearing them speaking English we asked if they were from Lambton/Jiangnan and found they were.  One, a returning teacher, already had his cell phone operable, and called our liaison person in the office.  He had already sent the vehicle to pick us up so we just had to wait for it.

By the time we left the airport it was rush hour and the traffic jam was on, and it was long and hair raising trip.  People here honk horns constantly, but rarely in anger or annoyance.  The horn, as in Mexico, is used to let other people know there is someone going to move into the space beside them.  In China, one prays for good brakes, so that vehicles will be able to stop on a dime, as they have to.  Signals are sort of a joke, apart from buses which seem to have major attitude, bus drivers screaming at other traffic and passengers alike.

This is the North Gate of the University.  Not the best picture, but one can see the university library in the distance through the middle of the gate, and the Foreign teachers apartment just behind and left.

When we finally arrived at the Foreign Teacher’s residence at the university it was about seven thirty. We were shown to our apartment, put a few things away and immediately went out to get some water and milk.  We don’t drink the tap water, but there is water available in containers for the water cooler in each building.  However, it is not a cooler; the cool water comes out at room temperature and the hot water is piping hot, perfect for tea or coffee--or hot water to make morning porridge. The five gallon container costs 5 yuan. One yuan is between 6 and 7 cents, depending on the exchange.

The western style, fully appointed apartment was definitely misleading.  No dishes, pot or pans, utilities or tea towels.

First thing Saturday morning we headed off with some of the 'old Wuxi hands' from Lambton to go to the grocery store.It was a great experience.  Fortunately pictures are international, and there is some English in the aisles to identify product type.  Some products have English on them, generally grammatically correct if sketchy. Buses cost two quai. (about 13 cents) We took a black cab back, price negotiated before hand for 15 quai. (quai is a term that is generally interchangeable with yuan; I have yet to figure out why)

Had a brief nap before beginning to clean apartment.  It was more or less clean, but....

Sunday morning, we had a meeting at the International Studies building on campus.  We got our teachers books, schedules, met some of the Chinese Teachers--I had to get a food card for the  campus cafeterias. The card itself was 20 quai, and one deposits money onto the card at the main branch of the bank of China on site--there are several branches on campus.  The campus being roughly the size of Petrolia from Marthaville side road  to 21and Petrolia line, from Petrolia Line to at least the golf course.  Several canals run through it, with numerous bridges. The on site population is probably about 60 thousand, although only a small number are students of the Lambton Jiangnan program.

Bridge over main Canal at University.  I am standing on another bridge taking this picture--to right is base of Library Tower, and to the lower left is the international school building. 

I started work on Monday and worked through until Saturday so as to have all of this (national -- state holiday) week off.  The most fascinating things that we did that week were sleep work and eat.  I am up at six to leave for work just after seven.  Its about a five minute tram ride to the teaching building.  Class is from 8:45 -- I  generally walk home and then returned for the 1:30 - 3:00 class.

Options

Honestly, we really did have a snow storm that cancelled my flight.

Honest, we did.  Yesterday the roads were horrible to drive on -- although not as bad as the side walks for walking. Today was absolutely lovely and ended up about 12 or 13 degrees with warm winds of a Nor' Wester.  After lunch Sue and I drove out to Sumner to walk on the beach and enjoy the sun and the warm wind.  A bit less wind and the jackets would have been off.  The first thing on my right ans we climbed down to the Sumner beach was an example of the flowering bush that lines this part of the beach.
I have hunted allthough the internet looking for its name and can't find it.  It looks to be part of the Hebe family, but it appears to be much bigger than in most of the pictures on the net.  It certainly didn't seem to be particularly bothered by the snow, rain, hail and sleet that had fallen only a couple of days before.

the cliff above shows the extent of some of the earthquake damage.  I imagine that most of the houses above are now part of the red zone and slated for demolition. This time last year it was highly desirable Real Estate with an amazing view of the South Pacific.  At the bottom of the picture are the double stacked Sea Crates at the base of the cliff to offer some protection to the traffic from tumbling rubble.

Shag Rock used to be a 8m rock formation at the entrance to the Christchurch estuary. During the February earthquake it collapsed to nearly half its original height. Locals initially renamed it Shagged Rock, but popular opinion seems to have settled on Shag Pile as its new name. Sue and I came up with Shag Rubble.
I imagine that it was named for the New Zealand Cormorant, the Shag.  Apparently there is a breeding colony (known as shaggerie) nearby of these now- protected birds.

Finally we stopped Afghan cookies (from the Darfield Bakery) and tea.  We were parched and starved having had Vietnamese Food a scant three hours previous.  It was most necessary to eat in order to keep up our strengh for dinner.  Sue took a great deal of time to set up the perfect shot of the two of us on the last outing of this trip (Air New Zealand willing).  I, who wanted to get back to the bench while the tea was still hot, had a cheerful New Zealand lady take our picture.