Flying solo on 'Games Day!'

The following is a highly anticipated "'Yo-Yo' Update!":

If I've learned anything in the past two weeks of spending my mornings with toddlers, it is summed up with the following statement: You never know when they are going to vomit.  It could (and often does) come at any time, any place, with any facial expression; it's a strategy game much like chess, if the chess pieces were interactive in the worst possible way.  One particular child causes me great vexation as I have seen him vomit through multiple facial expressions; he would be a great poker player as he has no 'tell'.  Typically I put a arm's length of distance between myself and this kid when he gets any sort of strange expression (I have known it to begin with the eyebrows but it shifts to various locations from there).  I sincerely hope that my constant backing away from him will not give him any issues later in life, but unlike the toddlers I don't bring an extra pair of pants to school.

My list of favorites has expanded to include a boy who doesn't talk much, but gets very excited when I wave to him; the smile that spreads across his face is adorable.  He also enjoys sitting with me when it's playtime, this is cute because he'll stare at me quietly but intensely until I lift him onto my lap.  It's endearing until I realize that he is the one who pees his pants the most; thankfully the two have not mixed...yet.  There is also one boy who is like a wise old man, but in toddler form.  He's always looking out for others, telling me when they want seconds at snack time, or when they need help finding their pink bowl--he's very smart and he has taken to greeting me with a big hug in the mornings.  The other day during playtime he created a 'stamp pad' out of plastic connecting blocks--he gave me a 'stamp' of a cat on my hand.  This kid is adorable.  But fret not, I give the ugly children enough attention too, as suggested by the previously mentioned rule.

Here is my primary educational concern involving the toddlers: I have the power.  Quite literally, I have the power.  It is only a class of eight kids, but the majority of English those eight kids hear comes from me.  In their impressionable state they will pick up on what I say, thinking it's proper/normal English and possibly repeating it outside of class.  Obviously this is not a concern about anything inappropriate that I've said, but rather directed toward any uncommon and/or strange and/or uncommon-strange expressions.  For example, it is a habit of mine, as some of you know, to exclaim "man down!" whenever something (anything) falls or is dropped.  I didn't realize how bad of a habit until a crayon was dropped and a toddler repeated "man down!" after I yelled it from across the classroom.  This power is awesomely frightening--soon there could be a gang of youths running around Taipei using Lindsay-isms, and thinking it's a perfectly natural way of speaking.  Part of me wants to see where this could go, while the other part feels badly about how power-hungry I  have the potential of becoming.

Moving on to the big kids...

It was the last day of the unit for the level five class, and they basically had a free class to receive their graded tests and have a day of fun activities.  It had been decided that this would be the day to unleash the new teacher on them; I would be able to observe their behavior through activities, and they would band together in a test of my limits.  After consulting with the other teachers about what games would work best (and not be boring enough for them to begin to resent me immediately) I narrowed it down to those that required the students to yell loudly and/or throw a suction-cup "sticky ball" at the whiteboard.  The games would take place during the second half of class time, while the first half would be devoted to going over the tests and writing out their corrections--those who finished quickly would complete a word search of past vocabulary words.  The students didn't appear to need any extra incentive to complete said word search other than the pure motivation of who would finished first (Taiwanese students are fueled by even the silliest type of competition), but I had purchased candy for the winner just in case.  While the students worked together to complete the word search there was an extreme amount of Chinese-speaking occurring...not alright.  The "CT" (Chinese-speaking teacher) and I did our best to regulate, but it wasn't happening well--a threat would be needed.  Gaining the class' attention by waving my arms and yelling, "Whoa!  Whoa!  Whoa!"  I announced that the next person caught speaking Chinese would do twenty jumping jacks at the front of the room.  They laughed and shook their heads, and announced that it wouldn't be them but I was still hearing Chinese.  I really didn't want to embarrass anyone so I waited a while before "catching" someone, but catch them I did.  Narrowing down the punishment to ten jumping jacks, I insisted that the youth stand in front of the class while he laughed his way through the calisthenics.  I didn't hear much more Chinese after that.  The games went well, and my nerves subsided early on in our second round of "Hangman".  I began to act goofy and mess about with the students, creating a rapport (as was suggested by my fellow teachers).  I walked back to the MRT (metro of Taipei) with a bit of a teacher's confidence swagger; perhaps this wouldn't take long to get used to...maybe I'll easily step into the role of the enthusiastic and entertaining teacher.  My rest on Thursday evening came easily, and with dreams of productive, laughing youths filling classrooms.


I was wrong.  What were they thinking by boosting my confidence with a silly games day?!  I was not prepared for teaching regular curriculum in a regular class.  On Friday I bombed.  I was awkward.  I spoke fast.  I skipped activities.  I took too long on activities.  I didn't demonstrate the games well.  And above all, I confused the students to a maximum.  This was a level one class, and it was still early into their lessons--it was understandable that they would have a harder time.  Sure, I had them giggling a few times, but the giggling to confusion ratio was not evenly distributed; the scale was leaning much more in favor of the latter.  The same thing happened Saturday morning, only without the poor timing...I made sure this wouldn't become an issue by purchasing a watch at the Roahe Street Night Market on Friday night.  There is much work to be done in order to gain my footing in these two older classes--I had been spoiled by how easily entertained the "Yo-Yo" class is.  Damn toddlers and their bubbles!  Too bad bubbles and Play Dough wouldn't work on the older kids...I'll have to think of worthy substitutions.


Culinary update!  Last night a group from the hostel made a reservation at the 'Hot Pot' place (all you can eat and cook it yourself at the table in the 'hot pot'); I was intrigued and accepted the invitation.  The 'hot pot' itself was less exciting than I imagined.  The novelty quickly wore off as I tired of stirring and timing and essentially cooking my own food every time I wanted to try something new.  Although try something new I did!  I gave duck a taste, and finding it even less appetizing than I originally thought (and I hadn't high hopes to begin with) failed to finish the rest.  I also think I unintentionally tested lamb, but I can't be too sure...there was a lot happening.  The thing about the 'hot pot' is that we had a group of ten and only two pots--it was quite crowded.  I kept getting excited about different items I was putting in the pot, only to have them disappear forever beneath the constant dumping of other ingredients on top from the others.  To be sure that I wasn't embarking on a food adventure without being properly prepared (*cough*mysterious meats*cough*) I mainly stuck with vegetables.  Yes, you heard correctly.  Since the few questionable meats I have encountered have stuck with me (not always in a good way) I have taken to preferring vegetables over meat in certain items.  It's a world I'm not familiar with, so I have a few vegetable kinks to work out, but it is a re-occuring decision nonetheless.  However, when I am confident with the identity of meat I am more than happy to embark upon a taste test...it's just that not all meats are so easily identifiable.  It's a constant battle, but one that I've brought my 'A' game for.

Chinese progress: I've learned how to say 'right' and 'left'.  I also learned how to say 'do you speak English?', but I've forgotten already.  I've got to start taking notes...

Lindsay Gets Confident With Chopsticks (aka Independence Day Weekend)

I have been leading the toddler's morning class for a full week, but I'm still being slowly worked in to my other levels.  Having missed the official program training by a few days I am constantly a step behind those in the know, and thus the staggered class observation is much appreciated; just plain good management on the part of my branch.  Their plan of getting me confident with the "Yo-Yo" class has worked, as I am no longer terrified of the miniature humans--and they are no longer terrified of me.  My name has officially been changed in the minds of the Elephant class to 'Teacher Lindsay' and it's a good thing too, as I had planned to answer to that name all along.  The class is fairly simple to plan for since it's pretty much the exact same thing the whole week, with the exception of the "Fun Time Activity!" which occurs at the end of every class...this is where my immaturity (*ahem*creativity*ahem*) comes into play (with the help of the activity suggestion book). My shining moments this week involved Play Dough and the ever exciting 'Orange Roll!', in which we sat on the ground and rolled oranges back and forth...for thirty minutes.  Back and forth.  Should the kids have lost interest I had plans to let them investigate the oranges by peeling them, smelling them, tasting them, etc.  There was no need for this extra step since wonders didn't cease, and the children were more than happy simply rolling the oranges.  Did I mention this went on for thirty minutes?  The Play Dough, on the other hand, has been added to my list of emergency activities--underlined, highlighted and bold, bold, bold!  As I was demonstrating how one deals with Play Dough ("Do we eat the Play Dough?  No.  Do we throw the Play Dough?  No.") the children stared, mesmerized and they were all mumbling something in Chinese over and over.  I asked the Chinese-speaking teacher what all the kids were saying, she started laughing, "It means, 'I want to play with that.  I want to play with that.'"  Clearly the Play Dough casts some sort of spell over toddlers--this is helpful to know.  It has been added to the shelve of magic, where the bubbles reside.

After one week of teaching "Yo-Yo" and observing older classes, we have been rewarded with a two day weekend!  Yes, you read that correctly...a special two day holiday weekend.  Although I do only have one class on Saturdays and it's finished at noon-thirty, so I hardly consider it to be a work day.  Walking home from this class yesterday I passed a restaurant that had a counter with food I could see, and thus point to--my favorite type of place.  I entered and started moving down the line.  The woman filling my take out container talked rapidly with a smile on her face, ignoring my shrugs and mumbles about not speaking Chinese.  She shrugged in return, but didn't stop talking.  When it was time for me to move around the corner of the counter (and to the mystery meat section) she wouldn't pass on my box, instead continuing to speak to me in Chinese.  I smiled politely and kept shrugging...the people behind me looked at me like I was the reason the line was held up.  The cashier spoke harshly to the woman helping me, and took my box away from her, successfully ending the one-sided conversation.  The new woman pointed to the meat area; I shook my head and moved closer to the cash register.  She pointed again, and said something in Chinese (clearly they were not grasping my language barrier).  I said no again, and pulled out some money; she continued to stare at me, baffled that someone would refuse the meat spread.  I could see I was fighting a losing battle and submitted, choosing the least offensive chicken item I saw.  That seemed to satisfy her and she finally let me leave, tossing chopsticks in my bag with judgmental eyes.

Since the rain had finally subsided for the morning I decided my lunch must be eaten outside, and I set off in search of a park bench.  The tricky part about eating lunch in public was that my chopstick usage would be in full view of an audience.  I walked for quite a while when I finally spotted a park; there wasn't a secluded bench, but I was hungry and tired.  Plus, I'd been in Taipei for three weeks...that's plenty of practice.  Right?  I focused, and actually succeeded!  I ate a whole lunch with chopsticks--by myself!  And this wasn't an easy lunch full of large bulky items...no!  This lunch involved scrambled eggs, spinach, and rice!  The rice was my greatest challenge yet, but it was conquered--as was everything else!  (With the exception of the large hulking piece of fried chicken which I was forced to choose...this was eaten with my fingers)  What's that Asia?!  How do you like them chopstick skills?!

Speaking of Asia...more specifically, Taiwan.  Tomorrow (October 10th) is the 100th anniversary of "Double Ten Day", or the anniversary of the Wuchang Uprising.  It is celebrated as 'National Day' for the Republic of China (Taiwan's official name...because it's not technically a country).  The whole situation has something to do with railroads and displeasure with the nationalization of them, and according to Wikipedia (even though I'm a teacher now, I'm still going to go against the rules and quote them), "These events served as a catalyst to the Xinhai Revolution, which led to the collapse of the Qing dynasty and the establishment of the Republic of China."  I really should know more about this day since history's my thing and all, but the books are expensive here and I couldn't find a Taiwan history book that didn't look like a textbook.  When I get my visa I will be able to peruse the library, where it's rumored there is an English section...I'll explain "Double Ten Day" better and in more detail when that happens.

Last evening the three of us decided to try a movie night, complete with the obvious fast food prior to the viewing.  Having walked by 'Mos Burger' many times we decided to finally give it a go.  Pointing to pictures on the menus seems to be the fool-proof way of ordering, so I stuck to my method and pointed to the cheeseburger (with no hot sauce, since that's always the inevitable follow-up question to whatever I order).  The cashier pointed to my choice of side dishes, one of which was a side of chicken nuggets!  I opted for the french fries, but it's nice to know that I never have to choose between the burger and the nuggets again.   Another employee also tried to sell us a 'Mos Burger Calender, 2012 Edition', complete with coupons.  No, thanks, but maybe next time.

Off to the movies we went!  Crossing our fingers on the walk up to the theater that the movie would be in it's original English, with Chinese subtitles we embarked upon our greatest challenge in Taiwan thus far.  Going to the movies here is over-stimulating and quite the event (as most things in Asia have turned out to be); our first challenge was buying tickets.  There were no movie posters at which we could point, and the screen with the time-table kept switching, so we couldn't rely on that.  Finally an English-speaking employee was located and we were in business--sorta.  It turns out that everything is ordered at the ticket counter...we had to make beverage and popcorn decisions before we were prepared.  And then there was the dilemma of finding the correct stand at which we were retrieve our popcorn, finding the correct theater, and finding our assigned seat.  All of this and we didn't even know if the movie was going to be in English yet!  It was.  And we survived, but not without a last challenge at the garbage cans on the way out.  They're very serious about what trash goes where, but all the directions are in Chinese (naturally)...I always have a slight panic attack in front of the garbage can options.  On our way out of the movie theater complex we vowed that next time we would be so much better prepared; knowing our popcorn order, buying candy ahead of time, bringing a photo of the movie poster to point to, etc.  We won't be caught off-guard again...at the movies, at least.

Today, since I didn't technically have any lesson plans I could work on, became a lazy-Sunday...resulting in a trip to the bookstore.  Obviously.  My specific reason for going involved embracing my nerdy side and search for a book light, but of course I walked out with something other than the one thing that was on my list.  It doesn't count though, it's a comfort book ('A Room With a View') and it was super cheap; those kinds of things are necessary for me to live in Taipei.  On my walk back to the hostel I snapped this photo of the Xinyi shopping district:

 

And since we have no classes tomorrow (remember, it's a two day holiday weekend) we ventured to the Roahe Street Night Market in search of food.  It was the most crowded I'd ever seen it, but we still hit up the favorite booths, all of which know our order now (not like it's difficult to recognize us).

 

As predicted, the photo just can't do the market justice.  Even with the crowds of people I quite enjoy it...it's the stinky tofu smell that I can't handle.  It just hurts my nostrils.  So badly.  It was so crowded tonight that when we reached the end we hesitated to start down the other side in search of the pancake man.  That hesitation was quickly corrected, and we ventured back in.  The pancake man must always be paid a visit.  It was worth it (it always is), and right when we walked up he said our order to his assistant.  They are literally miniature pancake sandwiches, with your choice of delights on the inside.

Ignore the custard, red bean spread and some sort of berry situation happening in the photo--it's the chocolate we like.  Since he had so many orders racked up with the busy market, we had to wait a little bit...he gave us all a chunk of chocolate while we stood there.  We're friends.  He's going to miss us when we move, and are no longer a few blocks from the market.  We'll miss him equally as much, though; that's for certain.  Reunions will be had.  Bulk orders will be placed.  We'll keep in touch with the pancake master.

As you can see, Taiwan is well prepared for their all-important day.  And despite my ignorance about the details of said all-important day, I plan on fully participating in the festivities.  I've heard there will be fireworks, and all those close to me know how much I enjoy fireworks...and how upset I become when I don't get to see them.  Obviously I will be there on the wharf in the best possible viewing position tomorrow evening.

It's important to remember they're just children.

Oh by the bye, I am currently an employed teacher in Taipei.  It all happened rather quickly, and suddenly I found myself surrounded by lots of children screaming in Chinese.  On Friday I began a day of observation, beginning with the 'Yo-Yo Class' in the morning.  Don't know what age group 'Yo-Yo' means?  I didn't either, and here's the shocker: two years old.  I am in charge of teaching a group of eight toddlers--or rather, supervising said toddlers while sprinkling in the 'Alphabet Song' and random single digit numbers to the hour.  I walked in with a smile, but the eight pair of eyes called me out as an intruder; they're really going to have a problem tomorrow when I'm the one that shows up, instead of the teacher they've become comfortable with.

It was decided that after one full day of observation I would co-teach the 'Yo-Yo' class on my second day, today.  I went in early this morning to review the portions of the class I would be in charge of during my first co-teaching effort.  I would be responsible for 'Alphabet Time' and 'Storytime', both of which included lots of time with minimal material.  I received four weeks of training for lesson planning in Prague, but I sat and stared at the page of ideas like I'd never done this before.  But I haven't...how do I lesson plan for toddlers?!  I was starting to think I might have to wing it--their attention spans are less than three minutes, after all.  I jotted down a few ideas of questions to ask while reading and ran upstairs just in time for 'Exercise Time'.

I determined that I was not nearly fully prepared for 'Exercise Time' when "Bohemian Rhapsody" began to blast from the speakers.  All four of the kindergarten classes combine to complete their morning stretches...and jumps...and twists...and dances.  As a teacher of these morning classes I am responsible for leading these thirty or more children in completing these stretches (jumps, twists, dances, etc.) by participating, myself, in the very front of the room.  Yes, I realize that I have little to zero coordination; this is of little consequence to the screaming children though.  Since it was the first time I'd seen the whole event I was a little lost with the choreography and thus spent the majority of the fifteen minutes laughing at how much fun the kids were having.  Tomorrow I will attempt to do the routine in it's entirety, and I will never listen to Queen the same again.

'Toddler Watching' may be my new favorite form of 'People Watching'...they interact in the most curious manners.  It didn't take me long to lean toward a few kids as favorites either, but I was assured by my roommate that this is "only a bad thing if you don't hug the ugly children."  That's a good rule.  The child who I find the most intriguing to observe is also the one who administers the most intense of the 'intruder glares'; I have a sneaking suspicion she can see into the depths of my core.  My smiles are not acknowledged, and she doesn't even blink when staring me down--it's amusing and nerve-racking all at once.  I intend on befriending her first; she might have pull with the others.  I also plan on befriending the child that jumps everywhere, because he's just plain cool.

When preparing for my lesson before class the head teacher was teasing me for telling him I was nervous...it's silly, because they're just children.  Wrong.  Individually they're children, but together they are a tough crowd.  I received minimal audience participation, and started to sweat in the spotlight.  My portion of the act seemed to go fast, but I have much material to perfect for tomorrow; I plan on coming up with a list of the same question in 8-10 different word patterns.  It wasn't just me though, the class was just quiet in general--it seems even toddlers get a case of the 'Mondays'.  My training teacher noticed their lack of spirit too.  "Watch them go mental," he said as he pulled out the secret weapon: bubbles.  Remember in "Knocked Up" when Pete confides in Ben, "I wish I loved anything as much as they love bubbles."  Oh my goodness, I had no idea.  Suddenly they were awake and full of energy.  There was screaming, running, jumping, clapping and pure, flawless joy.  Toddlers straight up love bubbles.  I've already penciled that in as a back up to most of my lessons...you know, just in case.

Oh, and I think the kids misunderstood my name and I'm now 'Teacher Mindy'.  I heard it just as I was leaving; clearly this will have to be corrected.