By Jillian Suprenant
A two-hour bus trip is all that separated me and my teammates from Zhuhai, the main location of our DukeEngage experience. As we approached the city on Friday afternoon, I had the chance to look at the beautiful Chinese landscape, witness the crazy drivers and packed roads, and thank God for the time spent sitting in an air-conditioned bus.
We would begin teaching at Zhuhai No. 9 Middle School on Monday and I felt underprepared and extremely nervous. I could tell my teammates felt the same. The Sunday night before our classes began, my roommate, Karen, and I stayed up late in our hotel room, frantically creating PowerPoint presentations for our week of introductions and discussing our shared worries of the kids hating us. For me, my main fear was not being able to understand the kids and vice versa. How can you build relationships with no form of communication?
That Monday morning, I decided to adopt my mother’s advice: “A smile goes a long way.” As the twelve of us inched our way to the school building, I could feel my heartbeat quicken and my back become sweatier than it already was. Suddenly, No. 9 Middle School stood before us, a large gated complex containing Colosseum-like buildings. Through the gates, I could see a long red carpet, bordered by a local TV crew, cameras in hand, and students holding what looked like pool noodles.
The moment the students saw us, they erupted in cheers. They seemed so eager to be our friends. As we walked the red carpet, two at a time, we got to high five everyone’s hands. I instantly felt grateful for these kids; they made me feel welcomed, relaxed, and encouraged. We were led to an outdoor stage where we watched a welcome ceremony, received beautiful flowers and saw the students perform the traditional dragon dance. It was there that I learned that this was the 10th year that DukeEngage has come to Zhuhai. In Chinese culture, ten is considered a special number as it represents fullness and perfection. This year, therefore, was important. No pressure.
My first few classes went better than expected. The kids were friendly, interested and polite. Their English was not as good as the students who I met in Guangzhou, but they were all intelligent. I could always depend on a least one of the students to excel and be able to translate my instructions to their classmates who could not understand me. Still, it was incredibly overwhelming and I couldn’t help but feel slightly discouraged. The language barrier would be tough to tear down.
During one of our breaks on the first day, our site coordinator, Yanan, came into our newly made, hand-painted office, and complimented each of us. I sat at the end of the table, and as she went down the row, I kept waiting to hear her offer me a pity compliment. Compared to my teammates, I felt inadequate, underprepared and lost. I didn’t deserve to be here. As an independent person, I was not used to having to depend on others for basic survival skills, like buying boba and not getting scammed at restaurants. Yes, they were my teammates and friends, but I felt like a burden.
“Jillian, I think you have a natural ability of being a teacher.”
Uh…….What?
Yanan didn’t give me a pity compliment. I instantly felt confused, but relieved. Maybe I would be ok. Maybe I had to stop expecting perfection and just be myself.
The comment, however, was the calm before the storm. The next day, my classes were noticeably harder to communicate with. I had very few girls in my classes and did not know what to talk about with the boys. I felt frustrated by my continued inability to speak Chinese, and my tiredness from the jet lag only seemed to get worse. As a dancer used to smooth and focused rehearsals, I found myself growing frustrated with my teammates during late night practice sessions for our upcoming show. My injured knee was beginning to hurt again, making it difficult for me to climb the three flights of stairs to our No. 9 Middle School office. I began to feel guilty about all the attention we were receiving since we hadn’t done anything yet. And to top it off, I got sick midway through the week.
A word to the wise: if your body, can’t handle fast food in America, it can’t handle fast food in China. As tempting as it is to explore the boogie KFC close to your hotel and eat the duck burritos, DO NOT DO IT. Incessant trips to the bathroom plagued me for two full days afterwards. And the squatting toilets made it ten times worse.
Thursday afternoon, we got to perform for the seventh graders at the school. I remember feeling incredibly proud of my teammates; they are all insanely talented. We somehow managed to pull a show together from thin air. And the kids loved it.
After the show, I understood what it felt like to be famous. Hordes of student surrounded all of us and asked for our WeChats. Many were too shy to come up to us, so instead they’d just stare and whisper to each other. It would be incredibly unsettling if the kids weren’t so dang cute.
I spent many of the following nights responding to all my new WeChat friends. Many asked if I remembered them and honestly, I didn’t. There is only so much space in my brain for faces and names, especially when the names aren’t in English and the WeChat profile pictures aren’t actually of the people you are speaking with. But I know how much the kids wanted us to remember them, so I found myself just responding with “yes” and hoping that eventually I would be able to figure it out.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired already. But the kids with their young, open minds make it worth it. I just hope that I can live up to all their hopes and expectations.