Kidddens

Here's the weird thing about life in China. There's so much to say, but I don't know how to adequately portray it, ya know? Actually, you do know. It's when you hit email time and you have so much to tell your family but it's almost a ridiculous thought to begin to say anything because you know that there's no way you could possibly go into every detail and every emotion withenough detail and emotion to give it justice. That was a long-winded sentence, but moral of the story is, I don't know what to say.

 

Let me talk about my students. Remember Titanic story?

Well one day I had this bizarre idea to turn on My Heart Will Go On from Titanic.

 

The music starts playing.

 

All the girls' faces lit up and they do their little happy clap and then all of a sudden this boy stands up and yells, "YOU JUMP I JUMP!"

 

It took me a second to register what he said, but as he stood with his arms outstretched ("I'm flying!") and said that in his adorable Chinese accent, I lost it.

 Yeah. I love them. The thing is, whenever I walk into the classroom, they freak out. They literally freak out. They do this adorable little thing where their hands are involuntarily gaoxing (happy) and they start flashing peace signs at me like their life depends on it. There's always the exuberant round of applause and a crescedo of screaming as they all begin to realize that I'll be teaching (more like performing for them) them for the next forty minutes. I'll be honest. I'm not a fantastic teacher, but we certainly have a fun time.

 

There's always the diminutive student that sits in the front and stares you down with wonder. They have their plethora of textbooks organized by height and beautifully arranged with their notebook and pencil bags. The whole class, they blurt out the answer and are rather put-out when you don't call on them for the eighth time in a row. Other students in the class look at them when they're saying something in English because they've been automatically deemed the unspoken translator.

 

Then there's the punk on the back row that mimics everything you say. I get a bit animated when I speak--as you very well know--and he's the one who responds to sound the most. If I say, "Okaaayyy??" He will say it in an equally feminine--though embarrassingly similar to my voice--and annoying way. The best part about him is that he doesn't mean any harm; it's almost involuntary.

 

But there's also the girl with the perfect hair and dimpled smile that everyone stops talking when you single her out. She's quietly brilliant and won't say a word unless you call on her, but her English is impeccable and all the students linger too long on her correct answers.

 

THEN there's the class clown. The one that says everything wrong but does it in style. I had one of these today and he was a pudgy, short little kid with an abnormally round face and bug eyes under his ultra-magnified glasses. When we were saying things we were grateful for, he expressed gratitude for things like monkeys, tigers, and ice cream--which is entirely valid, but he just got so excited he screamed them in his deep(ish) squeaky(ish) seventh grade voice until I wrote them on the chalk board.

 

So those are the iconic students. There's one in every class (I have over sixty students in each class). I love them, though. They are always so sweet and have no qualms at yelling at me across the hall, "LAOSHI! LAOSHI! MEES MAREESA!!! HALLO! HOW ARE YOU I'M FINE SANK YEW!" They give me little pieces of candy after class and ask me for my autograph in various places in their notebook, then come back for different sizes of my name.

 

I end the class with 'I love you!' and they never hesitate to scream 'I LOVE YOU TOO!' with all the energy their tiny voices can muster. There's no better feeling than having an entire class of the most adorable children telling you as genuinely as possible that they love you. It's amazing. I cannot wait to be a mother. I think it's so beautiful that I can create a human being within me. And that when that tiny person is born and they begin to cry, they can breathe. They can think. The best part is that they will be mine. But until then, I get to love my students like my children, even though their English is limited and they can barely say my name.

Today, I was doing a Thanksgiving lesson and the Spirit was in each class and I could see in the students' faces that they knew I loved them. It was beautiful. I wish I could go into detail but my computer is broken so I'm on borrowed time!

I love you all. Alsooooo, I'm serving my mission in Taiwan Taichung leaving January 23rd!!! Sooooo. Life is good. I am so happy.