JISHOU, HUNAN, CHINA -- It's been a long time (pre-dKos4, anyway) since I've written anything here, so I thought it was time for an update.
The other impetus for writing now is to implore any dKos readers who might be suitably inclined (or anyone you know who might be) to come here as a foreign teacher sometime ... like, uh, now would be good. I'm the only foreign teacher for about 400+ students now. I could use some help.
I have just completed my third year teaching English at this somewhat remote university in western Hunan. Next week, I start my fourth year, a record-setting term for any foreign teacher here, from what I hear.
Some of my friends in China are completely befuddled. Why would I, a foreigner, want to stay in a backwater university when I could be enjoying at least twice the income and more cosmopolitan surroundings in a bigger city?
Why indeed? I spent this summer contemplating this question, and found I had no compelling reasons to leave anytime soon. Read on if you want to know.
First, some information about Jishou. It's a small city (by Chinese standards) of about 300,000 people. It sits nestled among the foothills of the Wuling Range that separate Hunan province from Sichuan to the west. The nearest airport is two hours away, and a four-hour bus ride will get you to Changsha, the provincial capital, which has such luxuries as Pizza Hut, Papa John's, Starbucks, Subway, DQ and Daylight Donuts.
Jishou is the seat of the Xiangxi Autonomous Miao and Tujia Prefecture, which constitutes seven mostly rural counties in northwestern Hunan. The Miao and Tujia are local minority groups, and Jishou University is a regional school intended to benefit the ethnic minorities.
The Miao were once feared as bandits, so much so that an emperor built a wall (the Southern Great Wall) to try to control them. Known as Hmong elsewhere, the Miao are spread all over this part of southern Asia and have largely held onto their language and customs, while acceding to the presence and governance of the Han majority.
Meanwhile, the Tujia once had their own strong kingdom centuries ago, but now have mostly become assimilated into Han culture. Few Tujia now speak their own mother tongue, and many customs are slowly being lost.
More than half my students are either Miao or Tujia, or a mixture of these with the Han. Most are from farm families, and are the first in their families to attend college. A fair number were raised by their grandparents, because their parents are migrant workers in the bigger cities. (The kind of folks who work at Foxconn, for example, or garment factories.) As is true in the USA, it's hard to make enough money from a family farm to send your kids to school, so parents leave their farms to work in the cities. They may see their kids only once a year, for Spring Festival.
Now, some background about me. I've been a teacher of one sort or another since 1983, most of that as a high school physics teacher in Louisville, Kentucky. In 2006-07 a teacher from this part of China came to teach Chinese at my school in Louisville. Before she left, I asked if I could teach English at her university. And so, here I am.
Teachers will know what I mean when I say that I stay for the students. I have had some wonderful students in 28 years of teaching (maybe some are reading this now), but I've never had so many at the same time before I came here. I'm not suggesting that my Chinese students are all brainiacs -- most are at Jishou U because their college entrance test scores were not so hot -- but as a group they are the hardest working, most sincere students I've ever had. The sacrifices they and their parents make to enable them to study here are unbelievable. It just seems very petty for me to complain, "Oh, I've gotta have Pizza Hut or I'll go crazy!" pack up my bags, and leave.
To be frank, the relative isolation from western influences, other than the Internet and pirated movies and TV shows, doesn't really bother me. I wanted to live abroad to see if I could hack it. For me, living abroad to hang out with other western ex-pats seems a colossal waste of time. That's no way to learn another culture, or test your own adaptability. Since I haven't gone completely bonkers after three years, I guess I'm the adaptable type.
Americans may be surprised to learn than China does not provide a free education to its population. Most schoolchildren's families have fees to pay, which increase as the child moves from primary through high school. College tuition and fees, while modest when expressed in US dollars, may be more than a family makes in a year. (For my college, tuition is 4,000 yuan -- about US$640. A factory worker might make 2000 yuan a month, while farmers might make that in a year.) There are scholarships and loans, but there is limited availability, and some scholarships get awarded not because of financial need, but because of who you know. There is no FAFSA here, no ETS to advise universities who should get aid. Guanxi (personal ties and obligations) is an ancient Chinese custom. So is bribery. And if you or your family are one of the 10% who belong to the Communist Party of China, you get special treatment. So, many deserving students get no assistance at all.
Here I will highlight one of my reasons for staying, a student I will just refer to as L. She is just now 20 years old, one of those kids from the countryside. Her mother long ago left her daughter behind, for reasons I don't fully understand. L's father mostly left her to her grandparents to care for, while he pursued a career as a businessman. From what L. tells me, he was always remote and distant, even while home, and rarely had anything good to say about his only child. Now, he is very ill, and so are the grandparents. The family income is only 1000 yuan a month now, and without some assistance, L. would have to give up attending college.
She does get a scholarship from our college, but it's only about 500 yuan. To be honest, she's not the world's greatest student, but given her situation I can't blame her too much for being a little distracted from her studies. Her spoken English is already very good, and will rapidly improve if she stays in college. So, I have become her financial assistance -- my monthly income is 4400 yuan a month, so one's month pay can cover her annual tuition -- because I don't like losing students. Never have. She's a sophomore now, so if her need continues, I have to stay at least until she graduates in two more years.
English, as I have written here before, is one ticket to success. All students learn English. That's right, all. Primary schools teach basic words and greetings, and as the child moves up through the grades, he or she will learn English grammar, read astoundingly difficult English passages, take a bargeload of tests, and with luck get good enough scores in English to go to a good high school, college or grad school, or get a good job. It makes no difference whether the student will ever actually use English, it's just a hoop to jump through.
I teach English majors, who are either going to be English teachers or work in foreign trade. The way I figure it, if L. can graduate with excellent English skills, she can get a good job and then can really help her family, much more than if she goes back to the village to be a shopgirl somewhere. That's her plan, too. I'm just making it a little easier to realize.
China wants and needs foreign teachers to help these students learn English, especially spoken English, as many Chinese teachers of English have mediocre spoken English skills. (This is slowly improving, I might add. I know some teachers here who have never set foot outside China, but speak as fluently as most Americans. Certainly better than Sarah Palin, anyway.) I found a job with no language teaching experience or credentials. I was a warm body in good health with a college degree.
Experts in foreign teaching encourage ex-pats to get involved in their local communities. Once you feel "plugged in" to your adopted community, your feelings of homesickness fade and you forge new ties to replace (or augment) the ones you have back home. When I came, I decided to jump in with both feet. The first year was to be just an experiment, but after six months I knew I had made the right decision. I decided to settle in, and see what would happen. It was, after all, my new job and not a short-term assignment. Sink or swim.
I'm still swimming. By the end of this term, I will have taught every student on our college at least once, including the ones who graduated in 2009, '10 and '11. My colleagues want me to stay forever, which I can't guarantee, but who knows? Money isn't everything. Feeling like you're making a difference in people's lives is a lot more important.
It's not all peaches and cream. My choice of lifestyle may not agree with you, but I really need some help here. We are supposed to have at least two foreign teachers here, but so far we have not found anyone suitable. You should be in good health, or at least not on death's door, and have a college degree (and that's even negotiable), and of course be a native speaker of English. The freshmen begin their classes in early October. That's when I will be working overtime (24 classes a week in all) teaching oral English and public speaking. If you are so inclined, drop me a line at john dot wheaton at gmail dot com for further details. I'm having a great time, but I make no guarantees. Results may vary. Wanna give it a try anyway?