Further life and times of *liltayinchina*

Several entries have been long overdue these days, but it’s the end of the term and school has kept me very busy. Also, I’ve been recovering from a series of illnesses and can say that this weekend is the first time since before Christmas that I’ve felt quite myself.

And, since it is the end of the term, I’d like to tell you about my last class with K3C – one of my two Kindergarten classes. I don’t think you’ll be able to believe it. Even now, after a week has passed, I’m still in shock when I close my eyes to think of that last 35 minutes. It was a riot. A true riot, in the exact sense of the word, I believe.

Class with this group had been deteriorating for a while. In fact, by the time that I no longer had two co-teachers, but just the one young girl who speaks no English, class had gone from being a pseudo-learning experience to an out and out play session called, “Let’s give the young Chinese teacher a break and let the children use the foreigner as a chew-toy-slash-giant doll-slash-scratching post”. And I enjoyed every minute of it; though I think this new role could be the culprit for all those extra illnesses I’ve been fighting recently.

So anyway, I arrive at class on that last day armed with two sheets of small multi-colored stickers. One sheet was full of red, orange and green apples that said things like, “I heart China” and “You’re sweet!” and “Awesome!” on them. The other sheet had smiley faces in all different colors with different expressions on their faces. I had brought the apple stickers to class the week before and it had seemed to work in keeping the children quiet for five seconds longer than usual every time we did manage to get them to settle down. On this day, however, the stickers created even more of a distraction.

Let me give you some visual cues so that you can try to put yourself in my shoes: throughout the term, I taught the K3C class on the third floor of the Kindergarten building in what I assumed to be an old music room. I sat up against the wall on a small wooden stool and the children would cluster in rows in front of me on even smaller plastic stools. My stool sat right next to a keyboard that the co-teacher used to play the melodies for songs I taught the children from the book. She also used this keyboard to quiet the children down if they became to excited or started attacking me (mostly hugs or sticking fingers in my mouth or up my nose.) Along the far wall opposite my small stool is a large mirror and there is an old metal bar along the mirror that looks like it could have been used for stretching at one time. Now however, the bar is no longer attached to anything and causes the children to fall into the mirror every time they touch it or come near it.

The room doesn’t have a heater in it and so I always let the children sit very close to me because when we’re doing songs or chants, they like to run up excitedly and touch my face or try and put their hands under my coat and squeeze my belly. I’m still not sure what that’s all about, although my 1st graders try to do this too. I’ve gotten to the point where I tuck all of my layers in now because if a stray hand gets farther in without my initial notice, they don’t touch skin and I can manage to get away before they’re yanking my shirt up and out. If anyone has had experience with this kind of thing and small children, enlightenment would be most appreciated.

On the last day of class, my co-teacher wasn’t even paying attention to me or the children. She kept taking out her cell phone and text messaging people. I assume this is what she was doing because she was punching keys for most of class and often smiling to herself as if she were communicating with a person she liked very much.

So it was me, and several rows of giggling, smiling, sweet, loud little Kindergarteners. We were huddled very close and I tried doing a few of the songs and chants we know: “Ring Around the Rosy”, “One, Two, Buckle My Shoe”, “Round and Round the Garden”, “Rain, Rain, Go Away”, and on and on and on…but the children were just too excited. One boy whom I like very much kept jumping out of his seat and shouting out in hysterical laughter, doing a little mini-run in place, and sticking both of his hands out as if he were going to explode with excitement. He kept coming up and hugging me really hard and faux-fainting on my lap. Many of the children would catch his enthusiasm and try to repeat his movements, ending up in a child-puddle on my lap and feet. I love encouraging them and this makes them have fits of excitement that usually send my co-teacher into the fray to settle them down. But, as I said, on this day she was otherwise occupied.

Then I made the mistake of pulling out the sheets of stickers and it was like being at a feeding frenzy. Little hands started trying to tear the sheets out of my hands and if I aimed my stickered finger in the direction of a student, three hands would try to rip it off and keep it for themselves. I managed to get them to sit quietly long enough to get a sticker on each student’s forehead but then they wanted more and more and more and little hands were yanking at my arms trying to get my finger to land a sticker on them. I actually heard threads ripping in my coat sleeves on more than five occasions. I tried standing and was knocked backwards and into a huge stack of small plastic stools and I suddenly had an image of Gulliver being tied down by the Lilliputians. I imagined being knocked unconscious and waking up on the floor, my face covered in apple and smiley face stickers.

When I ran out of stickers, the students begged for more activity so we played the 5 Little Monkeys game. It’s a simple game, really. I choose five children to be my monkeys and then I repeat the rhyme of the monkeys jumping on the bed and tap one student each time I say that one little monkey fell off the bed. These little creatures started actually coming up with strategies of how to remain in the game in order to be the last monkey and we had a lot of fun playing it all term. By this day though, I was the only one chanting and the children were all being monkeys and it was frenetic and fun and my heart was overflowing with admiration for all of my tiny little students. I felt very sad after class was over and the students pulled me in all directions to introduce me to their parent or grandparent who was waiting outside to take them home. The funniest part is that I’ve been seeing these children twice a week for three months now and not one of them remembers to say “Hello” or “Goodbye” to me outside of class. I don’t mind at all, though. I just love that I accidentally got the chance to have playtime with these little people and get paid for it.

I’m not sure if they’re doing Kindergarten again next term, and I’ll be sad to see it go. I really did fall in love with my students and that last day was a foreboding indication of the kind of sadness I’m in store for come June. How can I possibly say goodbye to my 1st and 2nd graders at the end of my year here? Luckily, I’ve still got five and a half more months NOT to think about it!