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February 27, 2006
That's so China
This morning I went to teach my second class, for the second time, only to find the classroom nearly empty. I asked whether it was Oral English class.
“No,” a couple students replied.
“No?” I ascertained.
“Yes,” they confirmed.
I stood outside the classroom for a few minutes, figuring that if the classroom had been changed, a student would come to tell me. After a while one of the students studying in the classroom came out and said, rather embarrassedly, “I’m sorry, Teacher, but we will not have your Oral English class this term.”
“You mean, the class has been cancelled?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to take Oral English this term?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t. Not that I didn’t want to teach them, but it was a class of Japanese majors who were juniors; by this point in their college career many Chinese students have stopped caring. My first lesson with them had more or less convinced me they’d live up to my prejudices.
This afternoon I went for an “interview” at the on-campus kindergarten. The day before I’d been asked whether I wanted a job teaching the kids there once a week – just fun stuff to spark their interest in English. It sounded like something different and potentially entertaining, so I agreed. I surprised the teachers I was meeting with (and myself) by operating in Chinese for most of our discussion. Only a couple times did I revert to English with the university professor who’d come to interpret: once was when they asked me how much I wanted per hour. I didn’t feel confident enough in my ability to negotiate money matters tactfully in Chinese. I had asked Luke (the interpreter) beforehand what he thought was reasonable to charge, and he wouldn’t tell me. The lady I was talking to kept saying, “Our own teachers get 30 yuan (about $3.50) an hour.”
“Tell them I taught an extra class here on campus and was paid 50 yuan an hour,” I said to Luke.
He told them.
“So you want 50 yuan an hour?”
“Yes.”
“How many students in a class? Forty?” (Now we’d switched back to Chinese).
“Um…how about 30?”
After the meeting, Luke and I walked outside together. “I think you could have asked for more money,” he said, “but now that we’ve agreed on it it’s too late.”
So why didn’t you tell me that when I asked you before the meeting, Luke?
Oh wait, I know why. It’s because you’re Chinese. I think that, as the intermediary, he didn’t want to take sides by telling me how much I should charge.
That’s ok. I’m not really doing it for the money.
| By huzzlecoo | 08:06 PM
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Comments
I'm totally with you on the "not discussing money matters in Chinese" thing...dangerous idea.
Posted by: Naomi at March 22, 2006 01:19 PM
