On a sweltering day in August I tunnel through great gray apartment towers, I walk past mounds of debris, I edge by forlorn fences and a trash barrel with incense sticks poking out, the smoky scent mixing with that of dog urine and orange peels. Anxious to be on time, I peer at my cell phone. Even though I have been here twice before, I got slightly lost on the short walk from the metro station. I force myself to walk more quickly even though my unaccustomed "good" shoes are rubbing my heels raw. (I won't even mention what my thighs felt like in the unaccustomed skirt. Won't even mention it.)
I am greeted by 20 mostly non-English speaking teachers, who seem genuinely glad to have me there. Having a blue-eyed, big-nosed, fair-haired American teaching English is a feather in the school's cap. I feel self-righteously appalled about their reverse - prejudice (even though it is to my advantage) until I remembered that earlier this week I immediately thought my son's black-haired Chinese teacher would be better than his lighter-haired colleague.
A little more context:
The local church has asked me to be a supplemental English teacher to first & second graders at a church-run, governmental subsidized school. The children may not have had much exposure to English and have almost certainly not had much exposure to the Bible or the person of Jesus!
I do not speak the local language yet (although I am taking lessons). At first I will only be going once a week. I have most recently been teaching phonics to 2-12 year olds at a local for-profit English tutoring center, and I am continuing in that job (as it helps pay the bills). I can already see what a huge asset some of the techniques I have acquired there will be for me at this new school.
So. The challenge begins.
