Settling in. Well, sort of.

So I broke Carol’s golden rule: don’t get drunk in China; it was quite hard not to.  It was one of my first nights out, and for other teachers it was their last night out, because they were leaving Aston, and Xi’an.  I was thrust into the swing of things and taken to “The Belgium Bar”, where people were buying rounds of Tsingtao at 6 for 60 kuai (6 for £6).  At those prices becoming intoxicated became inevitable.  Several rounds later the Aston teachers began eyeing up the spirits menu and asked what we would all like to split between us.  Due to the exchange rate and the prices of spirits here more generally, it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been able to seriously contemplate an answer to that question.

The night continued, moving onto “Yi-Jiā-Yi” (one + one) - a nightclub in the center of Xi’an.  Clubbing in Xi’an seemed to draw even greater attention to the large group of Westerners, with people approaching you, wanting to buy you a drink or even just dance.  The evening was almost surreal, as people (men and women) surrounded you on the dance floor.  It didn’t even matter how you danced, because regardless, people were impressed.  There was even a point where people were forming a circle around you to watch you dance and then show you their own (and usually much more impressive) dance moves.

The evening seemed to fall apart from here.  The group (or at least the remnants of it) decided to go to “KTV”.  KTV is infamous in Xi’an (and perhaps the whole of China); KTV is everywhere.  There seems to be as many KTVs here as there are McDonalds in New York; they’re in abundance, to say the least.  So what is KTV?  It stands for Karaoke Television.  Basically, you purchase a room, you have a few drinks and you sing the night away.  The Chinese absolutely love singing at KTV, but there’s one thing they love even more: a Westerner singing at KTV.  Or so I’m told, because as it happens, we didn’t make it to the infamous KTV.  Nor have I been since the very evening I’m describing (which was awhile now).

So the night came to an abrupt end, as did my sleep the next morning when my phone went off.  Gingerly I picked up, greeted by the news that I could move into my new apartment.  I was ecstatic to after living in my hotel room for over a week, or “the box” as I came to know it.  I went to the school and my new housemate, Brian, greeted me.  Brian’s Irish and pretty down to earth.  He has got one major fault though: he’s a vegetarian, but hey, we can’t all be perfect right?

Eventually, we made it to our apartment.  After an hour it became evident that Xi’anese taxi drivers don’t like the idea of picking up two Westerners with a lot of luggage.  So with the help of two CTs (Chinese English Teachers) from Aston, we were escorted to our apartment by bus.  I felt quite bad for the two female CTs on arrival to the entrance of our apartment, because they made the mistake of offering to carry our hand luggage … up to our flat … on the 7^th floor … and there’s no lift … and our hand luggage was massive. I don’t think they’ll be repeating that offer in a hurry.

The apartment is alright.  In fact, by Chinese standards it's pretty good.  By Western standards it's functional.  By my standards it's basically student accommodation all over again.

The same evening Brian and I explored the area.  We’re living outside of Xi’an’s city walls, which you can actually walk/cycle around, whilst overlooking the city center.  Wanting to try the local cuisine we eat out, and Brian introduced to me tofu, or “dòufu”. Dòufu was a pleasant surprise and it’s something I’ve eaten quite a few times since.  In China there’s a variety of dòufu; I am slightly hesitant to try “smelly” dòufu (apparently smelly is an understatement). 

We’ve become extremely happy with this location for a number of reasons.  Firstly, as the area is outside of the city center, we’re able to experience more of the “local” Xi’an.  By local, I mean that there is a multitude of fruit and veg stalls, and also tiny, family run bbq-type-restaurants, which spill out onto the pavements as the summer approaches.  Secondly, all the flats within the city walls become inaccessible after 11 p.m. due to curfews (unless you bribe the guard at the gate); those outside of the city walls do not suffer the same deadlines.  Thirdly, Aston has four schools located in Xi’an, and ours is Aston three, which is both newer and nicer than Aston one.

On top of teaching, lesson planning and the occasional night out, my schedule has become jam packed with other new hobbies.  These include Mandarin lessons at a school named Global Village, free Mandarin lessons at Aston, going to the gym, one-on-one kickboxing sessions and exploring what Xi’an has to offer.  Hopefully this provides a slight excuse as to the delay of this blog, as I'm struggling to find a spare moment.

As it stands, this is my timetable:

Monday – This day is completely free.  Generally, it is spent lying in from teaching over the weekend/the night before.  Sometimes I’ll also go to the gym, do a food shop, or go sightseeing with Brian and other teachers.

Tuesday – Wake up at 7:30.  Leave the house at 8:00.  Arrive at Global Village for Mandarin lessons from 9:30-12:30.  Afterwards go to the gym or have a kickboxing lesson, which means I eventually get home between 4-5, exhausted.

Wednesday  - Wake up at 9:00.  Leave the house for 9:40.  Arrive at Aston 3 for the Mandarin lessons 10-12:00 and then gym or kickboxing again in the afternoon.  Possibly start lesson planning for the weekend.

Thursday – Repeat of Tuesday.  Plus lesson planning.

Friday – Repeat of Wednesday.  Plus meetings at the school and then I begin my weekend of teaching from 17:15-21:15.

Saturday – Teaching begins at 8:00 and finishes at 18:30.  Sometimes I go out for food with other teachers afterwards.

Sunday – Teaching schedule is similar to Saturday, starting at 8:00 and finishing at 18:30.  After a very demanding weekend of teaching all Aston teachers go out for drinks.

As you can see, this schedule means I’m on the go 24/7, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  The 23-hour contract that Aston has provided me is ideal, because it allows me to do exactly what I want during the week.  When I get paid next month, I can continue to keep up this grueling schedule, or I could take a break and go travelling.  On a Sunday when I finish I could get an overnight train and be in Shanghai, Beijing or Hong Kong by the morning.  Basically, with this contract, China and all it has to offer is completely open to me.  Moreover, Xi’an’s central location is close to perfect, because it allows me to choose a variety places to visit, without having to worry (for the most part) about where I want to go.

In terms of sightseeing thus far, we’ve explored a lot and yet very little of what Xi’an has to offer.  So far we’ve been to The Bell Tower, The Drum Tower, The Muslim Quarter and the fountain show at The Big Goose Pagoda. 

The Bell Tower and The Drum Tower are unmistakable due to their size and location.  The Bell Tower sits in the center of Xi’an on a roundabout, which is connected to the North, East, South and West streets.  The Drum Tower is close by and The Muslim Quarter is adjacent to this.  From the towers you can see a great deal of Xi’an’s traditional architecture, which is strangely juxtaposed with an array of shops and modern, overbearing shopping malls.  The Muslim Quarter has a lot to offer, especially in terms of food.  The meat in the area is some of the best in Xi’an (sometimes it’s difficult to know what type of meat you’re eating), but the quarter also offers something else: sweets. 

A view of The Drum Tower from The Bell Tower

Brian at The Bell Tower

Chinese sweets have grown on me at an alarming pace.  They’re sweetened far more naturally and quite often with honey; they taste completely different and are, in many ways, nicer than Western confectionary.  Needless to say we tried and stocked up on a lot of new foods here.  Buying things can still be difficult, as the Chinese don’t necessarily always accommodate the pace of their speech for Westerners.  What’s more, they only count from 1-10 on one hand, using symbols for 6-10.  As if Mandarin wasn’t hard enough. 

Looking around the Muslim quarter (see top photo), you can sometimes spot the odd foreigner, maybe more so than in the rest of the Xi’an.  Yet it’s still abundantly clear that you are a minority in this strange country, and that realisation still hits me from time to time.

The fountain show at The Big Goose Pagoda was simple and elegant.  It’s the biggest fountain show in the whole of Asia, and on the face of it, I wasn’t expecting much.  The assortments of fountains start off slowly, growing bigger and changing pace with the music.  The music is a mixture of traditional Chinese music and classical Western music.  It definitely plays its part.  We were taken here by some of the CTs from the school, and to them the evening was probably mediocre, because the fountain show is on every evening at the same time.  For me it was awesome to watch, as it was another small reminder of where I am.

Oh, and the teaching side of it.  Well, I’ve actually surprised myself. The first weekend of teaching was, as expected, extremely nerve racking and difficult.  The first weekend was an enormous low point, but luckily that weekend was followed by the first night out that I discussed at the beginning.  The second weekend I felt anxious, with some lessons going well, and others, well, not so great.  The third weekend I actually enjoyed it, which meant the kids enjoyed it. 

During my CELTA I came to the realization that the atmosphere in the classroom is largely dependent on you.  What I didn’t realise was just how much you and your students bounce off of each other; your mood and manner influences there’s and vice versa.  Basically, if you can bring yourself to enjoy teaching, the kids will enjoy learning (most of the time!).  My girlfriend always knew she wanted to be a teacher, and this is something you can spot the moment you meet her, because she has one of “those” personalities.  For me, teaching was something I had to adapt to and learn, and that’s not something you can simply gain from a weekend TEFL, or even a four-week CELTA.  It’s like learning to drive: the real experience comes when it’s just you in the car.