Me as a Chinese Teacher?!
Theodore Chow, Group
om, I don’t want to go to Beijing and learn Chinese by myself!” I ran back into my room and
slammed the door shut. But I could still hear my mom’s stern voice. “You are going to
Beijing tomorrow. A tutor will pick you up at the airport and take you to the boarding
school. There, you will learn much Chinese and I’m sure you can make new friends, like
what your brother did two years ago. When Tom was 10, like you…” Not a single word
went into my ears. Ever since I knew that I had to go to Beijing for Chinese school for a term alone, I had been
trying to talk my mom out of this idea. However, the more I tried to persuade her not to send me there, the more
determined she appeared to be. Little did I know that this experience would change my view towards my mom’s
plan.
2:
Fiction, Renaissance College
“
M
*********
My boarding school was at the outskirt of Beijing. There was nothing to do after school, except walking on
the fallen leaves in the school courtyard, making crunching sounds. One month had passed. Chinese and I were
not quite friends yet, and I did not even have a single playmate. Life was boring!
One morning our teacher, Mrs Chen, announced that there would be an excursion to the nearby Great Wall.
I was very happy because finally I would not be stuck in the classroom learning
bo po mo fo
!
Mrs Chen also
said, “You are not a great man until you have climbed the Great Wall.” As a ten-year-old boy, I was very
excited to “climb” this wall in order to prove that I was a real man.
That day, when we arrived, to my disappointment, Mrs Chen started to lecture us on the long history of the
Great Wall. “What? 2,000 years old? How long would it take her to finish talking?” I muttered. Even though I
just woke up an hour ago, I could not help but yawned at her speech. So, when nobody was looking, I decided to
sneak away.
There were not many people around. Soon, I went so far that I lost sight of my classmates. I got so tired that
I leaned against a giant stone, trying to quench my thirst and had some snacks. But whoosh! I fell off from the
wall and all I remembered was the glaring sunlight before I blacked out.
“
Feeling better?” A boy, about my age, carrying some tea, walked towards me. I was lying down on an old-
fashioned bed. The pillow was as hard as stone and the bed could give anyone a sore back. “I can see that you
are not a Mainlander. Anyway, I am Ming and you are safe here.”
Ming helped me get up. He passed me a bowl of tea and I gulped it all down in one go. “Where am I?”
Scratching my head, I asked him in broken Chinese. “You are near the Great Wall,” he pointed at the tiny
window, “and this is my home,” he replied. I looked around and was shocked to see how small and run-down
his home was. It was just the size of a “shoebox”. “Why are you not at school right now?” I asked. “I don’t go to
school because my parents cannot afford it.” Anyone could hear the sadness in his voice. He started to tell me
about his family. Instead of going to school, he had to help his parents to make a living by picking up soft drink
cans. Ming was walking around the Great Wall, looking for cans when he saw me fall off. Listening to his story
and seeing his tattered clothes, I felt very sorry for Ming and the poor life he led. And suddenly, I saw how
lucky I actually was. Because Ming had saved my life, I decided to do something for him.
My mom always said knowledge gave one power. If I could teach Ming something, perhaps he could live a
better life someday. So, the next day, I went to his place after school. This time I brought with me my Chinese
books and stationery. “Ming, I’m here to teach you how to read and write!” When he heard that, he couldn’t
believe his ears. Finally, a “teacher” for free. From that day on, I paid so much attention in class because I
would be transformed into “Mrs Chen” after school every other day. Ming was such a quick learner. Sometimes
when I didn’t say the words accurately, he corrected me back. After our “lesson”, if Ming didn’t have to go help
pick up cans, he would teach me the games he played in the fields, games that were so much more creative than
those on my brother’s iPad. Because of this daily exchange, my Chinese gradually improved much.
Very soon, the trees had shown the first sign of winter. The different shades of orange and brown foliage
were all gone. The term had almost come to an end, and I knew it was about time to go home. As usual, I went
to Ming’s home after school. We both knew that it was the last lesson. I gave Ming a test on everything I had
taught him, and he challenged me on all the games he had shown me. “Theo, thank you so much for teaching me
how to read and write!” “You saved my life and now we’re even!
Xie xie
!”
I tried to joke but our eyes were
already filled with tears. Since boys don’t hug each other, we had the longest handshake ever.
*********
Looking down at the Great Wall from the plane, I saw Ming waving at me. I wished our friendship would
last as long as the Great Wall. But to do so, I must first keep working on my Chinese.