Migrant School Teaching

So I was going to make an attempt at a new format today...the video blog but I am afraid that my Photobooth has a small problem.  可能我的电脑有一个小问题！ (I just love the last two characters that I wrote, they mean both problem and question and are used all the time, e.g. "Excuse me miss, this piece of clothing has a slight question/problem it should be cheaper!)  

Anyway, I am going to make the second attempt in a bit.

My most important topic to address is that of my Tuesday afternooons.  I am starting a new volunteering project this semester: I am at a migrant school teaching English.

First, I think I should begin by addressing the migrant worker situation in China.  Shanghai has a population of about 20-21 million people.  Wooza, that's huge.  It also has an unofficial poplulation of from anywhere to 2 to 6 million migrant workers (depending on the season and who is counting).  Also, and interesting fact to note, though irrelevant, is that the population of Shanghai during Chinese New Year dropped to about 9 million.  In China, each person is legally bound to their town through work and family units.  Though this has almost completely falled out of formal process, there are still some aspects that stick.  Like, for example the difficulty for migrants assimilating into the city when they come looking for jobs.  Migrants are not allowed to live in the same areas as legal residents nor can there children attend the same schools.  This forces the kids into shabby schools, that lack the state of the art facilities and qualified teachers that the Shanghainese have.  Their textbooks, for example are photocopies of the books in the Shanghainese schools, photocopies of books that rely on color as a teaching tool.   Also, there is one teacher for approximately 800 students that can speak English, despite the fact that the municipality of Shanghai requires English instruction starting at the age of six.  

The fifth graders that I teach will have an opportunity to test into a better school (at least this is what I have been led to believe, though I am not certain) after fifth grade.  Students have to return to their home province and pass vigorous exams in math, Chinese, and English.  I believe that if they are on par with their Shanghainese peers, the can enjoy the same education.  My host brother is the same age as my migrant students.  He can have a conversation with me, tell me a story using relatively complex vocabulary and proper pronunciation, and has a basic understanding of English grammar.  My migrant students are struggling with anwering my question, "What is your name?"  This is through no fault of their own, but reflects a major flaw in the educational system.  I am worried because my students will never be able to catch up.

But on a more positive note, I am absolutely in love with every single on of my 44 ten year olds.  There is nothing like speaking to a group of kids that hang on your every word because they are so eager to learn.  When I am telling them a new word or sentence, I can see there lips mouthing out the syllables and when I ask if someone would like to write on the board, about half jump up in excitement.  On the first day of class I gave each student and English name.  I was able to meet with their teacher a week before I began instruction and she identified the sex of each student with only three errors.  I have typed out a name card for everyone (for both my benefit and theirs') and called each student one by one to stand as rechristened them.  Imagine my horror when Gary had long black braids.   

Warzone or Chinese New Year?

Happy 牛 Year!

The character means cow and is pronounced sort of like "new." Also, it means cow (and its the year of the cow) and in slang 牛 means "cool."  牛, eh?

Anyway, upon arriving home in Shanghai, I walked into a room full of my Chinese relatives and food and tea and noisy kids. Nelly.  And then we went to dinner and ate a lot of food, gave and received red envelopes, and so on (which is a phrase that my host brother loves to use.  "Megan, lets play rock paper scissors and Chinese chess and so on!")

But really, Chinese New Year consists of the following:

Eating, eating, eating

Massive family gatherings

Feast, feast, feast

Gan bei, gan bei, gan bei

Movie, movie, movie

Not sleeping, not sleeping, not sleeping EVER

One of the core defining things in ancient Chinese culture is gunpowder, thus fireworks.  And firecrackers.  Or really anything that is flammable and makes noise.  Evidently, this will help them be prosperous in the New Year.  Really, its just obnoxious.  I live in the middle of downtown and they were lighting them off just outside my building. (as well as out the window from the inside)  They also shoot them off of cars until all the alarms are going off and all the windows shatter.  Almost 24 hours straight, everyday, non stop.  The worst part is that from my window, I cannot even see the fireworks, but oh, can I hear the firecrackers.  Bing bang boom! Duck and cover!  My host mom gave me a towel to wrap around my head.

Yesterday, luckily, was the final day of Chinese New Year.  The fifteen day, the lantern festival.  Two days ago, my family and I went to old Shanghai for shopping and to look at the lanterns.  They are beautiful.  In they center of old town there is a huge square with a small river and a massive bull sculpture as well as lanterns with riddles written on them.  Each riddle may or may not describe a Bull (for this year, last year it would be a rat).  I might have appreciated it more, had I been able to understand the riddles, or perhaps it was my ignorance that made this riddles particularly curious. 

The older of my host brothers and I  are starting to hang out a lot and I love it.  My Chinese is good enough so we can chat, sort of.  He tells me funny stories about his friend, like how they make fun of some people in class, or that someone told him what the middle finger means in America, typical ten year old boy stuff.  We also kid around making fun of eachother: "Megan, you are a pig!" "Okay, fine, I am a pig, but only when pigs fly, so I am a flying pig!"  (We exchange teaching eachother idioms in our respective tongues.) Right now he is in my room half doing homework, half playing Chinese chess with me while I blog.  And he might have me in check....