Teach English in China?
 

 WE got off the bus into the busy city centre, lugging my bags onto the sidewalk. Taxis drove by everywhere, and I sat on my suitacse, hunched and shivering, as I waited for my new boss to order us one to the hotel I'd be staying at. It was my first day in Xi'an, in Shaanxi province, China, where I would be teaching children English for the next six months.

Thought the roads were buzzing, the streets were relatively empty, except for the occasional person running to find shelter from the drizzle. The Chinese are not the keenest fans of rain, and anytime it does, that's the final straw. No-one goes outside.

A taxi finally pulled up, and we acted quickly, loading my stuff into the boot. The driver got out, took a quick overview of us and my baggage, and yelled something in Chinese to my boss. He yelled back and looked at me, then he and his colleague began removing my stuff.
"He says there is not enough room in his taxi for...er, us," said my boss, clearly embarrassed, as the taxi driver got back in and drove away. "We must wait for another."
So for another 20 minutes we waited, until finally, when we were soaked through, a taxi pulled up which could squeeze the three of us and my suitcases in.

If you've never been driven in a taxi in China before, then I can tell you the ride is somewhat of a roller-coaster. Traffic jams were frequent, and the driver had a tendency of slamming down the accelerator in order to get into the next space that became available. He would then brake with equal force, so much so, that we were being pushed and pulled like imported chickens in the back of a very big truck. (or so I imagine)

I nervously looked across at my boss and his colleague, who were staring out the windows and making pleasantries with the taxi driver. It didn't bother them, and I realized all this was the norm of the transport industry in China - perhaps even in the whole of Asia. We were held up in another jam, when suddenly the driver saw a way out of it. He looked to the other side of the road, backing out of the queue slowly, and when the road was clear on the other side, spun around quicker then Sonic the Hedgehog on a mission. By the time we arrived at the hotel, the utmost feeling of relief came over me. "Everything ok?" said my boss. My face must have looked something else. "Yep, everything fine," I replied, opening the door, and realizing my hand had been gripped tightly round the handrail. I slowly got out, and the wind hit my face, chilling and blowing my already messy hair into even more disarray. I felt like some kind of rock star as we loaded everything up the steps of the hotel. People on their way home stopped to stare at us, including a couple of children, a bunch of teenage boys and an elderly man, who just leaned casually against a rail and watched on, like we were putting on a performance or something. This did nothing to settle my nerves. I was nothing special, and didn't want to be stared at - especially when I looked like crap. But to them, I was a novelty. I was white - and a white girl, at that.

My boss checked me in, as I took a final look round at the streets outside. They were filthy and matched the grey sky, thick with pollution, and on the sidewalks old, frail-looking men and women were selling cigarettes, magazines and - was that a shoe shiners? Sure enough, it was. You can get pretty much any service from vendors on the streets of China and shoe shiners and weight-takers are pretty common. (Where they charge you to have yourself weighed. Why anyone would pay to have their weight taken - and in public - is completely beyond me, but it must be successful because people do it). It was enough culture shock for one day and I was more than ready to sleep. However, there are certain things to remember about the Chinese - they work extremely hard, they are hospitable - and they can be very abrupt and pushy about things. It's not that they mean to be rude, it's just their way of showing appreciation and, of course, that they care. Besides the fact that as part of Chinese culture, it is seen as rude not to accept something offered to you. As I was about to find out.

 "We will show you your room now," my boss told me, and we walked up some stairs and I was led into a room, typical of your average hotel room. I collapsed promptly on the bed. I don't know how much later it was when I heard a knock on the door and jumped. I looked at the clock and it was 8.30pm. I got up and opened the door to see my boss standing there. "Are you hungry? We would like to take you out to dinner now," he said. Now?

I felt like I was dead (the jetlag, you see) and didn't look much better. And they wanted to take me out to dinner? "I'm really tired," I said, as light-heartedly as I could.

   "Yes, we understand you must be tired," he said, smiling. Thank god for that, I thought. "But thanks for the off..." I started. "But we would like to take you for dinner. We want you to meet the staff at the school." He gestured for me to come out of my room. I stood there, blankly. "Oh, well, thank you, but I'm sorry, I'm very tired," I smiled, meekly. "Can we go out for dinner tomorrow night?" My boss let out something crossed between a laugh and a cough. "Er, but we have prepared this for you, tonight," he insisted. His smile was quickly fading into a frown. My face changed. Perhaps it was best to accept and get it over with, judging by the look on his face. Even though I was, as we say in English, well knackered. "I'll just get my coat," I said, edging back and feeling decisively awkward.

   As I joined my boss, he grinned once again and I knew I'd done the right thing by going. That's one thing about the Chinese. They don't ever like to be turned down for anything, makes them 'lose face'. But that's a whole other story.

 This is yet another great article by Emma Longman

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