Am beginning to recognize individual students now out of the general masses, but am struggling with the names. They of course, all know my name, but don’t seem to understand that there’s one, very distinct me, and several thousand of them! Many of them have given themselves English names though, which makes life slightly easier. Have pretty well settled into the school life, hang out with the teachers between classes, and don’t get lost on the way back from market as often!
This week the whole school has been a flurry of activity and excitement getting ready for the Arts Festival, held every three years. It’s a combination of art, calligraphy and poetry exhibitions, sports competitions, and an evening programme of songs, skits and dances. Friday morning was the official opening ceremony, with the students parading in class by class to music, assembling in a great horde on the school playing field. Then the games began, mostly track and field events such as various lengths of races, shot put, long jump and high jump.
All students had to choose at least two activities in which to participate, and points were added up for each class. Interestingly, most of them did their sport in their normal clothes, running 800m, for example, in jeans and a jacket! As each student took part in an event, the rest of their classmates rallied round to cheer them on, shouting Jai-o, jai-o (come on, come on!) to encourage them.
Not only the students, but the teachers were also each required to pick a sports event to take part in. Fortunately, as the newcomer, I was excused. With my luck, I’d end up running the 3km race or some such thing. I was less lucky, however with regard to the programme. A mere two days before, I was told I should perform, and was urged to dance. Yeah right. I don’t dance, at least not sober, and certainly not in public, so I opted for the slightly safer option of singing. Now, I have survived such trials before, in Mundgod, but learned the hard way from that experience that it is far better to sing badly in the language of the locals, than to sing badly in English. I’ve found that foreigners are all expected to be amazing singers and dancers, a fairly logical conclusion as the knowledge most of these kids have of westerners is via Hollywood movies and pop singers. So I’ve developed the defense of learning a short song in the local language, which at least amuses the audience, and they give you credit for trying, rather than focusing on my off-key voice!
However great the plan, I’m always literally quaking in my boots before and during being on stage, but once it’s over, my contribution made to display the foolishness of the foreigner, I can settle in and enjoy the rest of the show.
My chosen song this time round was “happy new year” in Chinese, (to the tune of “Oh my Darling Clementine”!) For all those who wish to have a go, here are the words in pin-yin:
( a system adopted in 1958, where Chinese characters were to be replaced by the adaptation using the Roman alphabet. The replacement never happened though, and apparently the use of pin-yin is even starting to die out)
Xing ni Hao, xing ni hao, zhu fu da jia xing ni hao
Wo-men chang-ge wo-men taio wu zhu fu da jia, xing ni hao!
The programme last night had been in planning for two months, and the sound and light equipment was all hired in from the nearby city of Mianyang, so it was quite posh, with strobelights, clouds of dry ice smoke, fireworks and the occasional burst of soap bubbles, not to mention all the other technical gadgetry which seemed to fascinate whoever was operating it all, as there were frequent and startling displays of flashing, spinning and whirling coloured lights and smoke, and bursts of flame from spouts at the front of the stage.!
Each class had prepared at least one performance, complete with elaborate costumes. Unfortunately, I t was to dark to take photos, because it was an extremely colourful affair. Performaces ranged from Indian-style dances, with girls got up in glittering saris to skits taken out of the Beijing opera, with the traditional costumes and elaborate makeup, headresses, fans and martial arts demonstrations. There were English rap songs done by groups of guys, who did all sorts of athletic feats of breakdancing a la Michael Jackson (who’s still something of a hero here) and even a skit of Sleeping Beauty (in English, bless them!) and flamenco dancing.
There was a “fashion show” in which all the clothes were made out of plastic, paper and tinfoil, and were modeled by the students who’d created them to the pounding beat of a modern pop song. The whole thing took about 2 and a half hours, and was very professionally done.
The kids here have such a heavy schedule of classes and study, that they very rarely have free time to themselves. So when they do, they make the most of it.
A typical day for a student here begins when the first bell goes at 6:20am. This is followed by all the lights going on in all the dorms, and loud music being played over the school speakers. The kids have 10 minutes to get up and clothed before they have to head down to the sports field for morning calisthenic exercises done to the beat of blasted music and some extremely annoyingly loud person with a megaphone. Then off to breakfast, and to first class at 7:30. Classes continue til 12 noon, then a 2 hour break for lunch. Classes again all afternoon til 6pm, then dinner. After dinner, evening classes go from 7:30-10pm, during which the students have time to do their homework, and back to the dorms before the lights go out at 10:30. This goes on 6 days a week, and Sunday morning. They have Sunday afternoons off, but many students stay in the classrooms and cram for the exams.
There is a monthly test/exam held monthly in each subject, after which there are parent-teacher meetings. It’s a hectic schedule, but there is immense pressure on students here to pass the university and college entrance exams held each July. Because of the huge population in China, competition for spots in schools is fierce, and more so for a good job afterwards. Once one has taken a job, apparently, you pretty much stay there for life, as there’s no guarantee of finding another if you decide to leave the one you’re in. Many of the students have told me they envy me my life and wish they could travel, but the way life is set up here, they’ve very little chance. If they wish to have a secure future of any sort, the way lies through university and connections to find a good job. So the results on their entrance exams pretty much determine the course the rest of their life can take. Scary thought at 17!
The way the educational system is set up is hard on teachers as well. Chinese teachers are responsible for their students’ performances in the exams, and their salaries are affected by how well their students do. I can see the basic logic in this, trying to motivate the teachers to teach well, but if one is unlucky, and has a class with less academically gifted students, it makes life hard. Also, the best teachers tend to be given the better classes. As I wrote before, the students are sorted into classes according to their grades, with classes 1-10 the highest in the school, and ranking downwards from there to 30. There is a huge amount of material to be gotten through in the term as well. So both students and teachers are extremely pressured to do well. This explains why the students were so excited to have the arts festival, and three days “off” in which to play and decompress. I spent much of my time hanging out at the playing field, because it gave the students a chance to talk and practice their English. They are so busy with classes otherwise, I never have much chance to meet them other than in class. Good for me to practice my Chinese too! My vocabulary is growing in leaps and bounds, though I forget as fast as I learn. I know how to ay all sorts of useful words: peanut, relay race and cheers, and that always useful phrase, "I don't understand"!
Saturday, November 10, 2007
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