Drawing class: day one
(This entry was started last Thursday and finished up tonight. Our first class was Nov. 30th)
Drawing class was tonight. It was INSANELY awesome and funny. Eileen waited for me in the office while I taught my last Kindergarten class of the week. She and Daisy managed to get locked INTO the office somehow. By the time I was finished with Kindergarten, they'd called maintenance, which had come and helped them unlock themselves from the room.
It happens to be Eileen's turn with the light bought of depression - she doesn't know what's going on in her classes; she's having problems with a co-teacher; she feels like she's wasting time when she's not in the classroom teaching: basically, she's feeling most of the feelings I was grappling with mere weeks ago. When I left her about twenty minutes ago, she was less depressed and more overwhelmed. Here's a brief explanation:
We left the school and went to "mini-walking street" to grab a fast dinner. Among the several options for Chinese snack food, we chose the "mushroom-rice-omelet", which is exactly that. After eating much too quickly, we walked back out to the street and hailed a taxi to take us to the art institute. Robyn had text-messaged me the Chinese characters for the name of the art institute and I showed our taxi driver. He seemed to know exactly where to go and sped off. We were caught in traffic and I remember dozing for a minute and then the driver slowed in front of a gate that was not familiar from this past Sunday. In the meantime, Julia Zhu (the woman who helped sign us up for the classes) had called me to say that she would be waiting for us in Teacher Jiang's office - he had asked her to come. When the driver pointed to the unfamiliar gate, I called Robyn and asked her to confirm that we were where we wanted to be. We were not. He'd taken us to a different gate, but for those familiar with the UW, it was like being dropped off at the IMA when you wanted to be at the Burke Museum. So Robyn asked him to take us to the "other" gate. He dropped us at the other gate and it didn't look any more familiar than the first, but we were embarrassed and paid the man and got out.
We found the store where it all started, and walked down the dark alleyway towards the abandoned-looking building. Lights shining from the 7th floor windows bolstered our nerves for a minute until we reached the entrance of the building. Pitch-black. We passed a dilapidated gate strung across the entrance of an adjacent building whose doors were ajar. The room within was one large space full of darkness and potentially creeping things. Eileen and I were immediately spooked. I pulled my cell phone out and we used it to light our way up the first flight of stairs. Then, we grew accustomed to the darkness and I called Julia. She was surprised to hear from me and asked us to stay put so that she could come with a "torch" and help us up the rest of the stairs. But, then, as I hung up, we heard a man humming to himself and starting up the stairs. Eileen and I were doubly spooked and raced up the other six flights to lightness and safety. The spooky man then passed us and turned out to be a harmless boy of maybe 16 with the most innocent face you've ever seen. We said "ni hao" and he scurried past us, apparently frightened of the white-as-ghosts "wai guo ren".
Julia followed shortly after, waving a flashlight and gasping for air. She’s raced up the stairs to save us with her “torch”. Once we were up on the 7th floor, any doubts as to what we were possibly doing melted away quickly. Julia discussed what we wanted to get out of our 10 lessons with us and Teacher Jiang sat across from us, smiling, braces shining, with a brown leather jacket this time and the same flowing mane of black hair. He grinned a lot and after we’d figured out the specifics with Julia, he nodded to Eileen and I and said in almost flawless English, “You are beautiful, no?” Julia waved him off and suggested that he write out a receipt for the 300 kuai we were each presenting him with.
After a small crowd gathered around the four of us, Teacher Jiang proceeded to write a lovely little receipt out to the both of us. Then Julia informed us that we would be watching a demonstration drawing by Teacher Jiang for today’s lesson. (We were supposed to bring examples of our work to class today, but neither of us did. Teacher Jiang wants to evaluate what level each of us is at before beginning our “programs”. Julia led us into a smallish studio that was set up with another still life of apples, a Pepsi bottle and a ceramic jug of some sort. The spotlight was already on and people were clustered around an easel waiting for Teacher Jiang. At first, Julia had both of us sitting on stools right behind Teacher Jiang. Neither of us could see a thing so Eileen got up and moved to stand in the back of the room. Julia made a small fuss, which mortified both Eileen and I, but we were able to quell her. I stayed put, though I could see nothing. After a while, Julia noticed that I was staring at the back of the brown leather jacket and pulled me up to stand beside her. Every once and a while, she’d say loudly, in English of course, something to explain what Teacher Jiang was doing. “He is now drawing in the dark faces (shadows)” or “Look at the objects and the drawing. He is drawing the rough outlines now” or “He is drawing detail now” – every time she spoke, everyone in the room turned to look at her and see what she might be saying to us.
At the first break, we took the opportunity to thank her immensely for all of her help but to kindly and gently hint that she didn’t have to stick around translating for us. That’s when we found out that she and Teacher Jiang had struck up some sort of deal where she had to come to everyone of our lessons to translate. It was dreadful. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. She’d been at the institute from early in the morning and now had to stand around talking about her teacher’s work to two foreign girls who just wanted to practice their drawing skills for a little while. Eileen and I wracked our brains for a way to help Julia out of her predicament. In the meantime, Teacher Jiang resumed the presentation.
Towards the point when I’d reached my threshold for standing behind a man watching him draw a still life with a Pepsi bottle in it, a tall Chinese boy in the class moved to stand conspicuously at my side. I could see him looking down at me with not-so-subtle sidelong glances from the corner of my eye. He appeared to be gawking from me to Eileen and then back to me. Then, he squatted down in front of me and nudged his buddy. He whispered something and then gestured up to Eileen and I. Next they both took out their cell phones and started typing furiously…working the pin yin to get the correct Chinese characters. Eileen let out a squeak of a nervous laugh and I started to lose it. We were both about to cackle openly in Teacher Jiang’s demonstration class but he called another break. I turned to Julia and told her our two hours was up and that we had to go home.
Julia told this to Teacher Jiang who looked slightly miffed and hurt that we’d leave when there were still three hours of drawing to watch, but after a few nods and whispers, Julia said, “Teacher Jiang agrees with you. Next time you draw.” And we made to leave. A bevy of students accosted us to say, “Hello! Goodbye!” and then we made for the door. At the entry to the 7th floor, we put all of our warm clothes back on and waited for Julia who was saying goodbye and probably setting up next week’s lesson. In the entryway, we struck up a conversation with another professor. This one reminded me of all of the mysterious activities that occurred on the third floor of the art building while I was in college: the drawing and painting departments were located on this floor. He was smoking a cigarette and shrouded in the darkness coming up from the floors below the 7th. I asked him in my woeful accent, “Ni jiao shenme mingzi?” and he smiled a bemused smile, told us his name and gestured for us to follow him to a desk where he proceeded to write two Chinese characters. Then he was trying to explain the characters in a combination of broken English and fluent Chinese. We were able to deduce that the first character had something to do with loving one’s mother when Teacher Jiang, Julia and several students joined us at the table. They all started “ooo-ing” and “ahhh-ing” and then the other professor tried explaining the second character. The words “more than” and “best friend” had come out when Teacher Jiang piped in, “Hot! Hot hot hot!” and dashed from the room saying, “Goodbye and next time”. I told Julia I had no idea what was going on and she said that the professor was trying to explain the meaning of his name, which happens to be a very illustrious one in China.
Julia pulled out her torch, waved us to follow and we were skipping down the stairs after our first drawing lesson. We’ve vowed to practice a bit before this coming Thursday but I’ve not lifted a pencil other than to make corrections on tests and to draw some animals for my show lesson. I have a feeling Teacher Jiang is going to give me a dose of drawing reality come Thursday. I can’t wait!
Drawing class was tonight. It was INSANELY awesome and funny. Eileen waited for me in the office while I taught my last Kindergarten class of the week. She and Daisy managed to get locked INTO the office somehow. By the time I was finished with Kindergarten, they'd called maintenance, which had come and helped them unlock themselves from the room.
It happens to be Eileen's turn with the light bought of depression - she doesn't know what's going on in her classes; she's having problems with a co-teacher; she feels like she's wasting time when she's not in the classroom teaching: basically, she's feeling most of the feelings I was grappling with mere weeks ago. When I left her about twenty minutes ago, she was less depressed and more overwhelmed. Here's a brief explanation:
We left the school and went to "mini-walking street" to grab a fast dinner. Among the several options for Chinese snack food, we chose the "mushroom-rice-omelet", which is exactly that. After eating much too quickly, we walked back out to the street and hailed a taxi to take us to the art institute. Robyn had text-messaged me the Chinese characters for the name of the art institute and I showed our taxi driver. He seemed to know exactly where to go and sped off. We were caught in traffic and I remember dozing for a minute and then the driver slowed in front of a gate that was not familiar from this past Sunday. In the meantime, Julia Zhu (the woman who helped sign us up for the classes) had called me to say that she would be waiting for us in Teacher Jiang's office - he had asked her to come. When the driver pointed to the unfamiliar gate, I called Robyn and asked her to confirm that we were where we wanted to be. We were not. He'd taken us to a different gate, but for those familiar with the UW, it was like being dropped off at the IMA when you wanted to be at the Burke Museum. So Robyn asked him to take us to the "other" gate. He dropped us at the other gate and it didn't look any more familiar than the first, but we were embarrassed and paid the man and got out.
We found the store where it all started, and walked down the dark alleyway towards the abandoned-looking building. Lights shining from the 7th floor windows bolstered our nerves for a minute until we reached the entrance of the building. Pitch-black. We passed a dilapidated gate strung across the entrance of an adjacent building whose doors were ajar. The room within was one large space full of darkness and potentially creeping things. Eileen and I were immediately spooked. I pulled my cell phone out and we used it to light our way up the first flight of stairs. Then, we grew accustomed to the darkness and I called Julia. She was surprised to hear from me and asked us to stay put so that she could come with a "torch" and help us up the rest of the stairs. But, then, as I hung up, we heard a man humming to himself and starting up the stairs. Eileen and I were doubly spooked and raced up the other six flights to lightness and safety. The spooky man then passed us and turned out to be a harmless boy of maybe 16 with the most innocent face you've ever seen. We said "ni hao" and he scurried past us, apparently frightened of the white-as-ghosts "wai guo ren".
Julia followed shortly after, waving a flashlight and gasping for air. She’s raced up the stairs to save us with her “torch”. Once we were up on the 7th floor, any doubts as to what we were possibly doing melted away quickly. Julia discussed what we wanted to get out of our 10 lessons with us and Teacher Jiang sat across from us, smiling, braces shining, with a brown leather jacket this time and the same flowing mane of black hair. He grinned a lot and after we’d figured out the specifics with Julia, he nodded to Eileen and I and said in almost flawless English, “You are beautiful, no?” Julia waved him off and suggested that he write out a receipt for the 300 kuai we were each presenting him with.
After a small crowd gathered around the four of us, Teacher Jiang proceeded to write a lovely little receipt out to the both of us. Then Julia informed us that we would be watching a demonstration drawing by Teacher Jiang for today’s lesson. (We were supposed to bring examples of our work to class today, but neither of us did. Teacher Jiang wants to evaluate what level each of us is at before beginning our “programs”. Julia led us into a smallish studio that was set up with another still life of apples, a Pepsi bottle and a ceramic jug of some sort. The spotlight was already on and people were clustered around an easel waiting for Teacher Jiang. At first, Julia had both of us sitting on stools right behind Teacher Jiang. Neither of us could see a thing so Eileen got up and moved to stand in the back of the room. Julia made a small fuss, which mortified both Eileen and I, but we were able to quell her. I stayed put, though I could see nothing. After a while, Julia noticed that I was staring at the back of the brown leather jacket and pulled me up to stand beside her. Every once and a while, she’d say loudly, in English of course, something to explain what Teacher Jiang was doing. “He is now drawing in the dark faces (shadows)” or “Look at the objects and the drawing. He is drawing the rough outlines now” or “He is drawing detail now” – every time she spoke, everyone in the room turned to look at her and see what she might be saying to us.
At the first break, we took the opportunity to thank her immensely for all of her help but to kindly and gently hint that she didn’t have to stick around translating for us. That’s when we found out that she and Teacher Jiang had struck up some sort of deal where she had to come to everyone of our lessons to translate. It was dreadful. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. She’d been at the institute from early in the morning and now had to stand around talking about her teacher’s work to two foreign girls who just wanted to practice their drawing skills for a little while. Eileen and I wracked our brains for a way to help Julia out of her predicament. In the meantime, Teacher Jiang resumed the presentation.
Towards the point when I’d reached my threshold for standing behind a man watching him draw a still life with a Pepsi bottle in it, a tall Chinese boy in the class moved to stand conspicuously at my side. I could see him looking down at me with not-so-subtle sidelong glances from the corner of my eye. He appeared to be gawking from me to Eileen and then back to me. Then, he squatted down in front of me and nudged his buddy. He whispered something and then gestured up to Eileen and I. Next they both took out their cell phones and started typing furiously…working the pin yin to get the correct Chinese characters. Eileen let out a squeak of a nervous laugh and I started to lose it. We were both about to cackle openly in Teacher Jiang’s demonstration class but he called another break. I turned to Julia and told her our two hours was up and that we had to go home.
Julia told this to Teacher Jiang who looked slightly miffed and hurt that we’d leave when there were still three hours of drawing to watch, but after a few nods and whispers, Julia said, “Teacher Jiang agrees with you. Next time you draw.” And we made to leave. A bevy of students accosted us to say, “Hello! Goodbye!” and then we made for the door. At the entry to the 7th floor, we put all of our warm clothes back on and waited for Julia who was saying goodbye and probably setting up next week’s lesson. In the entryway, we struck up a conversation with another professor. This one reminded me of all of the mysterious activities that occurred on the third floor of the art building while I was in college: the drawing and painting departments were located on this floor. He was smoking a cigarette and shrouded in the darkness coming up from the floors below the 7th. I asked him in my woeful accent, “Ni jiao shenme mingzi?” and he smiled a bemused smile, told us his name and gestured for us to follow him to a desk where he proceeded to write two Chinese characters. Then he was trying to explain the characters in a combination of broken English and fluent Chinese. We were able to deduce that the first character had something to do with loving one’s mother when Teacher Jiang, Julia and several students joined us at the table. They all started “ooo-ing” and “ahhh-ing” and then the other professor tried explaining the second character. The words “more than” and “best friend” had come out when Teacher Jiang piped in, “Hot! Hot hot hot!” and dashed from the room saying, “Goodbye and next time”. I told Julia I had no idea what was going on and she said that the professor was trying to explain the meaning of his name, which happens to be a very illustrious one in China.
Julia pulled out her torch, waved us to follow and we were skipping down the stairs after our first drawing lesson. We’ve vowed to practice a bit before this coming Thursday but I’ve not lifted a pencil other than to make corrections on tests and to draw some animals for my show lesson. I have a feeling Teacher Jiang is going to give me a dose of drawing reality come Thursday. I can’t wait!
Comments
Will I get to experience drawring class?
Posted by: MOM | December 5, 2006 10:12 PM
Of COURSE you can experience drawing class. You name it, we're there. Conversely, anything that you're pretty sure you DON'T want to experience, I'll keep off of the itinerary. !!!
Posted by: liltayinchina | December 5, 2006 10:20 PM
I got my hepatitis A vaccine today (my shoulder hurts) and my typhoid is next, and I'm all set on the malaria front, so I'm ready to go! Leaping Tiger Gorge, here we come!!...
Oh, and I like the new blog better than the old blog...
Posted by: Mike K. | December 8, 2006 03:59 PM
Glad your mother is there to make you behave ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''dancing on the bar??????????????
Merry Christmas and a Glouriuos New Year
Grand Daddy
Posted by: Grand daddy, Huntsville.: | December 25, 2006 08:56 AM