My Experience of Teaching English in China

As my time in Qingdao draws to a close, I want to reflect on my year and a half teaching here. Its been over 2 years since I first set foot in China, back in Xi'an, and it feels like a lifetime ago.

When I first arrived in Qingdao airport, my new boss was due to meet me at the airport. I couldnt find him anywhere, and then I decided to walk around outside the airport where I eventually found him. He had been waiting for me in the wrong place and then asked me what took me so long! This pretty much set the tone for things here- crap organisation! I had no experience in teaching or qualifications to do it, but that didnt matter in China, I had a white face and spoke English.

The first day we went to the school to meet our teaching assistants I was pretty nervous. I met my assistant, who seemed to be under the impression I knew exactly what to do and I had to make a lesson plan with no help or suggestions. I didnt even know where to start and when I asked for help, she just said to me "you're the foreign teacher, you decide." Then we went to a classroom and taught our planned lesson in front of all the foreing teachers and assistants, with a couple of superiors taking notes. That was probably the most nervous I felt during my time. So that concluded what was supposed to be a weeks training; doing a practice lesson and never getting any feedback.

My first day at school, I was also really nervous. That moment I first walked into the classroom was a big moment in my life. I saw 50 plus Chinese kids all staring straight at me, and then this 20 second piece of classical music played which signalled the start of the lesson (I guess it's more imaginative than just a bell). Then my assistant gave them a speech in Chinese and it was my turn to start. The first words I said were "hello, my name is Will and I'm from England." I shakily wrote my name on the board. We went through the lesson, which was based on a chant:

"Spring is green,
Summer is bright,
Fall is golden,
Winter is white."

Then at the end we played a game where I hide a card under someones desk and a kid has to find it while the other kids all shout the word louder as the kid gets closer. After that initial lesson, I got into the swing of things and it became natural. Now I feel so much more confident in myself from this experience.

Morning break consisted of the kids going to the playground, standing in perfect lines while military themes play from loud speakers and a man bellows Mandarin at them. Then some happy music plays and they all do a strange dance in perfect formation. Sometimes they got in circles and danced too. Every Monday was a flag raising ceremony which involved military themes and all the teachers had to wear formal dress (as opposed to normal days, when teachers wore anything they liked). Now, I think the strangest thing for any westerner, is the eye excercises every morning at 11 o'clock. Some really trippy music plays while the kids massage their eyes for 10 minutes to the count in Mandarin "yi, er, san, si, wu..." As this is going on, the monitors walk around with canes and hit their classmates if they do it wrong.

The monitors are glorified grassers (tattle-tale for the Americans reading) basically. Their job is to keep discipline in class when the teacher isn't there. It's a job all the kids want, and when they get it, they become little drill sargeants. Hitting, however is technically forbidden, although some teachers do it, and hard.

Chinese students are excellent as memorisation, a lot of their education involves memorisation of textbooks, phrases etc. This has it's good points, but it does kill their indivuality and imagination. When we give them the oral exam (which we are not allowed to fail any kids at), they usually have a standard reply to a question:

"How are you?"
"Im' fine, thank you and you?"

"What are you doing?"
"I'm watching TV."

Teaching them new words, we were told to make them repeat it twice in English, twice in Chinese, sometimes we could spend up to 20 minutes doing this- "big big, da-de, da-de."
"little little, xiao-de xiao-de."

In my time here, I really bonded with the kids. I felt like all 600 of my students were like a family to me, and I was always happy to see them in the streets or shops outside school. I would love to come back and teach again, it is an amazing experience, something you probably only realise after you finish. it's changed my life anyway. China will always have a big place in my heart. Not the government, but the common people; the taxi drivers with dirty suits and bed-head, the old men who sit on the street and miss out all the consonants in words when they speak to you, the geeky looking teenagers who shout hello at you in the street and run away, the man at the market who pretends to get offended when you bargain the price down, the women whose job is to stand at the supermarket door and shout "huan yin guang lin" (welcome) at you as you walk in.

Tea Culture in China

Tea is as much an indispensable part of Chinese culture as Confucianism and plays an important role in the daily life of the Chinese people. In modern day China, tea is not a product solely for the bourgeoisie upper class, a flask of green tea can be seen carried by every factory worker and labourer.

According to legend, around 2737BC, Shen Nong, legendary Chinese emperor and founder of agriculture and medicine, was said to have been sitting under a tree drinking boiling water when a leave fell into his cup. He saw the water change colour and tasted it, being surprised by the pleasant flavour it produced. Another legend involves the founder of Zen Buddhism, Bodhidharma (Chinese: Puti Damo 菩提达摩), who meditated for 9 years facing a cave wall and then fell asleep. Angered by his laziness, he cut off his eyelids and where they fell to the ground, tea plants grew.
The Chinese word for tea is chá (茶). In ancient Chinese it was known as tú (荼), and then changed to being called míng (茗), which it is someones still known as, particularly in Taiwan. The English word tea originated from the Fujianese/Taiwanese dialect, which pronounces the word as "tê".
In China serving someone tea can be seen as a sign of respect. In old China, during a wedding, the bride and groom would offer tea to their parents, and during the ceremony of a Kung Fu master accepting a disciple, they would offer the master tea. If he accepts it, then he accepts the student. Typically, someone of a lower status would serve the person in a superior position (boss, teacher, older person etc) tea, it wouldnt be expected the other way around. In the south of China people will tap the table with the fingers to say thank you when being served. This is because an Emperor once travelled China in disguise. He served a servant tea and he was so happy he wanted to bow, but couldnt, so he just tapped his fingers so as not to give the Emperor away.

There are 5 common types of tea sold in China. Green tea (绿茶, lu cha) , jasmine tea (茉莉花茶, molihuacha), which is green tea scented with jasmine flowers, wulong (乌龙), which is semi-fermented and makes the water go a golden colour, pu er (普洱), a strong black tea which comes from the Xishuangbanna region of southwest China, on the borders of Burma and Laos, in jungle areas and tieguanyin (铁观音), a variety of wulong which comes from Fujian and Taiwan, in the southeast of China. Green tea is the most widespread and is grown in many different areas around China, particularly the south. Some good types of tea are Long Jing (龙井), which comes from the West Lake in Hangzhou, Biluochun (碧螺春), which comes from Jiangsu and the area where I live, Qingdao, sells a lot of Laoshan (老山) tea, which is grown at the local mountain, which is a sacred taoist area. Tea is never in teabags, its always loose leaves or bricks.

In China the most common way to brew tea is using a gàibēi (蓋杯), which is a lidded cup, a small jug and a small cup. Firstly, the teaware is all rinsed with hot water to heat it up. Then, tea is put into the gaibei, and then washed quickly with hot water to remove dust and it helps prevent bitterness. Then, more hot water (around 70-80c depending on tea type-the blacker the tea, the hotter the water) poured over it and left until the tea leaves open, then it is quickly poured into a small jug, from which it is served, typically in small cups. Tea can be reused several times. Another way is called Kung Fu tea and originates in the Chaozhou region in Guangdong. It is where you put a large amount of tea into a small teapot and put hot water in for a very short time, and serve it immediately into tiny shot glass sized tea cups.

my journey so far

I was first introduced to martial arts when I was 6 years old. After watching power rangers I told my parents I wanted to learn Karate, which I did for 2 years, and then when I moved to York, I started Taekwondo, but I have forgotten most of both styles.

Then, when I was 14, I began learning Wing Chun after watching some Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee films. I studied for 3 and a half years, going to class 3 times a week and doing a private lesson once a week. I got my black sash after just less than 3 years. At that point I began to seriously doubt what I had learnt, after training with people from other Wing Chun classes and the fact that our training lacked intensity. Most classes I attended I ended up teaching in and when I did the black grading, I was disappointed how easy it was, everyone thought I was really good, but I felt like I wasnt, just that they all rushed through easy to pass gradings the same as me. Plus the Sifu, was always saying his way was the only way to do martial arts and other ways were no use etc. Feeling like I would never improve if I stayed there, and that I still had so much to learn, I quit.

Then, a big milestone came. I met my second Sifu, who has been my most influencial. An old school friend was also learning Wing Chun and invited me along to his class. This Sifu taught Foshan Wing Chun and was really active and enthusiastic in class and we did a good mix of training, making me realise how much was missing before and how much I still have to learn. We always had an intense warm up with running, push ups, stretches etc for fitness, stamina, strength and flexibility. Sifu thought it was important to build up the body, not jut learn drilled techniques. He was open minded to all styles and ideas and his art was alive and dynamic and I really enjoyed it. Still now I regard him as my Sifu and as the biggest influence in my attitude to martial arts.

Then I took 5 months out to travel China (including Tibet), Nepal and India. The first 10 weeks I volunteered in Xi'an and I met a buddhist monk there who taught me the basic stances, kicks and punches of Shaolin. Then, I went to Hong Kong and spent a few days training with Master Kwok Wan Ping of Yuen Kay San Wing Chun, who was a true master, and confirmed what my second Sifu taught me was right. He was almost 70 and still covered in muscles and his arms were like steel. I knew he could still fight. I went back the following year to train another few days with him. On both occasions he was welcoming to me and his wife cooked me dinner several times and they treated me in a nice restaurant.

Then I had several personal spiritual experiences in Tibet, Nepal and India, stayed in some buddhist monasteries, stayed with a Tibetan nomad family and other amazing experiences. I returned back to the UK to work for a while, saved money, studied Wing Chun again and finally found a job teaching English in Qingdao, China.


The first Shifu I met there was an old man who taught in a park on the university campus every morning. He didnt charge and didnt teach any particular styles, just techniques he thought were effective and theories from different styles like Mantis, Shaolin and Mizongyi. Then, I met after a couple of brief encounters with some different styles, I met a teacher who taught me the basics of Shaolin and a basic form. He was very strict and not very friendly to me, which taught me perseverance and discipline, but then it appeared he wasnt interested in me real kung fu, he just wanted to teach me loads of forms.

The third big milestone came when I met my current Shifu, who is a Taiji master I was introduced to by the dad of a girl I was tutoring English. He doesnt teach forms, but focusses on Tui Shou (push hands), Qin Na, and Zhan Zhuang (standing meditation). I really enjoy learning from him and his skill is amazing, he is 70, but I cant move him or touch him.

Lao Zi said "a journey of a thousand miles is started by taking a single step." I feel like all I have learnt so far is the first step in a life long journey towards mastery of myself; mind,body and spirit. In the classical Chinese novel Journey to the West, a buddhist monk, Xuan Zang, journeys to the Western Heaven to get scriptures from the Buddha. He is accompanied by a monkey, a pig and 2 other students. The monkey, Sun Wukong, is mischievous and violent, but intelligent and the pig, Zhu Bajie, is greedy. These 2 characters can be seen as a metaphore for aspects of the monks mind. The monkey is always causing trouble and represents the intellect, and the pig is always eating and wanting sex, and represents desire. In martial arts we strive to discipline ourselves by training our body, calming our mind and honing our spirit. It is easy to talk about this, the hard part for me is actually doing it.

This September my real journey will begin. I am going to study at a Shaolin Academy in the mountains of Kunyu Shan, Yantai, in Eastern China. Studying martial arts full time has always been my dream and will take me to a high level that I could never achieve from doing it casually.

An Encounter With a Taoist Master of Taiji

While wondering around Qingyang temple in Chengdu, I saw a westerner sat with an old monk, who waved me over. As I got closer, I saw a sign in English and Chinese saying Taijiquan school. The westerner had signed up to a month of studying here and not speaking Chinese, it was his first day. The master spoke some basic English, and I spoke to him a little in English, before switching to Chinese, when I told him Id learnt Wing Chun and a little Chen style Taiji. When he heard that, he said Wing Chun is too hard, and that it dispersed your Qi and that internal martial arts take you to a higher level. I felt a little skeptical of him, but was respectful, especially because of people being able to sign up for a months training. But after a while, he took my inside and invited me to push hands with one of his students, a young monk. He was like water, and every time I pushed on him, he flowed round it, and I was only able to unbalance him once, but kept getting unbalanced myself most times I tried. Then the master invited me to try with him, he told me to push him in his stomach, and I felt it go solid, and then he sent me flying, with a little push from his abdomin. It was a strange feeling. I tried to push him several times, and each time he sent me flying off. I was really impressed, and exchanged contact details, so hopefully we can meet again next time I visit Sichuan. He is the head of a large association for Yang style Taiji, and has many students around the world.

Some other minority people I came across on my recent travels

The Zhuang people are native to Guangxi province in southwest China. They are Chinas largest minority and have largely incorporated Han Chinese customs, but still retain a unique language, closely related to Thai. We stayed in a village on top of the Dragons Backbone rice terraces, high up in the mountains and slept with a family there. They were very friendly, and spoke enough Mandarin to be understood. We sat in a wooden house with no chimney and got smoked out by a fire in the middle, which was cooking a hotpot of pigs liver, potatoes and rice and drank home made rice wine.

The Dong people live mostly in northern Guangxi and southern Guizhou and have unique culture and customs. We stayed in Zhaoxing, their largest village for several days for the Chinese New Year and their own Taiguanren festival the days after. Their unique Drum towers and covered bridges are places for the locals to meet and are always full of old men, smoking and drinking. Their language sounds a little like Cantonese, but has 16 tones! Their religion is the worship of different spirit animals and buddhism, but they have no temples or organisation. The Taiguanren festival was held after Chinese New Year, and saw the locals dressing up as animals, ghosts, peasants and royalty, and parading through town singing and throwing fireworks around.

The Miao people can be found all over southern China and Laos, Thailand and Vietnam, where they are known as the Hmong. They have even emigrated in large numbers to America and France. They were traditionally very rebellious to the Han Chinese, which led to their oppression. They have many different sub groups, such as the Flower Miao, Red Miao, Black Miao, Long Horn Miao etc. We stayed in a village called Basha, where the locals cling to ancient traditions, such as wearing traditional clothes, and the men still carry huge daggers or swords and shave their head, leaving just a topknot in the middle. In fact, the people in the village were all crazy, it seemed like the whole village was drunk, children included. They often sang, danced and were really rowdy, all night long. I heard they are some of the biggest drinkers in China!

The Bai people inhabit the foothills and valleys in and around Dali, in northwestern Yunnan province. They were traditionally rebellious and up until the time of Kublai Khan, had their own kingdom. They are believed to descend from the inhabitants from the Angkor Wat in Cambodia, but how they came to China, I dont know. They are well known for the artwork on the sides of their building, which are otherwise white washed. Old women in traditional clothes are often found selling hash to tourists in the streets of old Dali, although they dont smoke it themselves, just eat the seeds.

The Famous Dr Ho of Jade Dragon Mountain

While in Lijiang I had the fortune of meeting Dr Ho, a Naxi Doctor made famous by several books and documentaries, including Michael Palins Himalayas. As you walk along the otherwise typical street of the Naxi village of Baisha, just outside Lijiang, you will see a big sign saying "most admired man" and clippings of newspaper articles about this friendly, but slightly eccentric doctor.
So me and my friends walked into his clinic, and he greeted us in perfect English, then led us outside to sit in the sun, drink his home made herbal tea, and read articles about his fame. He lived a hard life and was poor and sick, during the political instability of 1950s and 60s China. So he taught himself herbal medicine, healed himself, and then began healing other villagers for free. He had learnt English from Dr Joseph Rock, a famous botanist, who lived in the area in the 1930s. Dr Ho is in his mid 80s and is in excellent health, and very happy (he says the best medicine is happiness). Despite his fame, he is humble and welcoming, and will give you a check up and prescribe some herbal medicine (which he collects from the mountains himself) for free, although for tourists, he asks a donation of what you think its worth or you can afford.
He told us about how several westerners suffering from cancer and other terminal illnesses had come tohim for treatment, and years later are still alive and stable. He showed us their medical reports, showing they refused kimotherapy to prove it.

the Naxi people of Lijiang

While recently travelling in the southwest of China, I visited the city of Lijiang and its surrounding areas. Although a really touristy place, I really fell in love with the Naxi people and their culture. They are said to have been descended from Tibetans and moved off the plateau in ancient times to settle in the fertile valleys where they live today at around 2,500m above sea level.

The Naxi were traditional a matriarchal people, which means that all inheritance, including family name, riches and land, were passed onto the female of the family. This is still practiced by the Mosuo people, who are closely related and live to the north of Lijiang, around Lugu Lake.

Their indigenous religion is a kind of mixture of animism, shamanism and ancestor worship, which is governed by the Dongba, which are the local shamans. The Dongba were traditionally the only people who could read and write the native language, which is the last remaining heiroglyphic language still in use. The common people would use Chinese. The spoken language sounds a little like Tibetan. Culturally, the Naxi have taken aspects of Tibetan and Han Chinese culture and given them their own flavour.

I found the Naxi people to be very welcoming and hospitable, and to have an interesting culture and history. If you want to read more on them, I would recommend reading "The Forgotten Kingdom: Living With The Nakhi of Likiang" by Peter Gouillart, a Russian who lived in Lijiang during the 1930s.