sofasurfers

Supermarkets, pharmacies and house parties – three of my favourite exotic experiences that I try to explore in a foreign land. But schools – now that was an ambition. I’d been hoping to visit a Chinese school since Xi’an – my hosts there were both private English teachers, and I’d done the whole “If there would be one thing I could do here, it would be to see Chinese school life”. I’d got past the school gates but I only really saw teachers (ya boo sucks!). So when I learnt that my Urumqi host was also a teacher – with bonus points for working at a state school – I started dusting down my charm again. “I’ll have a think about it and ask the school,” Number 11 had said. Given that the parents had called a meeting to complain that there weren’t enough foreign teachers in the school, I guess my request was readily sanctioned. And so, received by a welcome committee of Chinese students kowtowing at every door – a privilege not for me, but for anyone walking through any door seemingly – I shadowed Number 11 into his classroom.

“I’ve asked them all to prepare a question for you,” he warned. OK – that’s cool… What that meant was that Number 11 took to the sofa at the back of the room, while I cowered behind the front desk just like a teenager – all hands stuffed awkwardly in pockets – holding court with 14 17-year-olds (I was lucky – most class sizes are apparently 35 to 50; this was a special class to groom the students for international universities).

And so the questions came thick and fast: “Can you speak Chinese?” “Will you be volunteering for the London Olympics?” “Do you like China?” “Please tell us about this couchsurfing.” “Do you pray for designer fashion?” (Is that a hint or something?) And so I earnestly answered their questions, and, after some pushing from Number 11 (“You’re not supposed to just listen to her,” he admonished his class, “you’re supposed to interact, to think about what she’s said and ask something back. You see, Fleur, they’re all taught by the lecture method, where they just listen; they’re not used to engaging”), a kind of conversation ensued – albeit mostly with my teacher’s pet, who went by the international name of Tiger (teacher’s pet - Tiger! see?!). With his pink shirt, his hairdresser’s hairdo, his interest in women’s fashion and Sex And the City (“You are so Carrie Bradshaw!” he’d squealed), Tiger left no doubt as to his sexuality.

The school bell then rang (lessons here are 45 minutes) – a strangely hypnotic, polyphonic melody (very Prisoner). Number 11 announced that he was going out, and that we could continue. The questions continued, so I continued….

Right into the second English lesson. I got to ask my own questions back: What hours are you in school? 9am till 10pm. What happens if you’re late? “We get fined – 5 yuan (50p) the first time, then 10, then 15…” What do you do at the weekend? “Sleep!” they say in unison (they only have Sundays off). Why are some of you in uniform, others not? “We all have to wear uniform [check it out - “Swifter, Higher, Stronger”], but we wear our own clothes underneath and take off our jackets in the classroom. They don’t want us to compare ourselves to each other.” What are all these gadgets you’ve all got on your desks? “Electronic speaking dictionaries”. What do you want to do after you’ve graduated? I want to join the government because our president is so good and makes our country so strong. Hang on a minute, stop talking at the back there! (Several of them have turned around and are chattering with each other). Number 11 steps in: “I try to explain to them that when they go to their foreign universities, their tutors and the other students won’t like them talking in class, but they’re allowed to be like this in Chinese schools so it’s hard to change things.” We continue with the “What do you want to do?” tip: I want to work in petrochemicals – yes. I know they are finite, but I’ve done my research and we have 100 years left; I will die before that. I want to be a businesswoman. I want to make mobile phones. I want to be a fashion designer (guess who?). I want to be a businessman. I want to be a business woman with my own travel agency so I can travel around the world… I have seen the future and it’s yellow.