Some teaching days are rough. Many of my students have tough lives and are turning into tough kids as a result. Which makes me sad.
And then there are days like today. When one of my students, who I've never actually heard speak of her own accord, came up to me at the end of class and said "Teacher I love you!"
Obviously this made me happy because it seems she likes me. Let's not lie. But, seriously, I felt equally happy that she took it upon herself to express this sweet thought on her own and in English!!
Makes it all worthwhile.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Do you know the Bao-zi man?
The Bao-zi man is a man who sells Bao-zi on Cijin Island, on Cijin Road, next to Cijin Elementary School. Which, if you remember, is where I teach.
Bao-zi is pronounced kind of like “bow-zuh” except with tones. Bao-zi are steamed buns (think chewy bread rolls) and normally have ground pork and non-spicy spices inside. Or nondescript, mostly cabbage-y vegetables. Or other things that are also delicious but less common.
In the lower left-hand corner of this picture, you can observe a Bao-zi in all its glory. There is a red dot on top to indicate that it has meat inside instead of cabbage-y vegetables.
I like Bao-zi. I like Bao-zi because they are yummy. I also like Bao-zi because although I am basically illiterate when it comes to Chinese, I can recognize the Chinese characters for Bao-zi because the first character looks kind of like an “e” if you squint and the second character looks like a “3” with a line through the bottom. When I walk to Cijin on Tuesday and Thursday morning I feel hungry. When I couldn’t speak Chinese at all, I learned how to say Bao-zi. And then I recognized the character at this little, green stand on the side of the road near my school. And then I met Bao-zi man. I also like Bao-zi because they introduced me to the Bao-zi man.
Bao-zi man is elderly and wears a striped polo shirt. It emerged the other day when Bao-zi man was not standing in his stand that he is shorter than I previously thought he was. Bao-zi man has a wife who makes the food.
I normally can’t understand Bao-zi man and he normally can’t understand me. This is because he speaks fast and slurred Chinese and I speak quietly and poorly toned Chinese all on a busy, noisy road. It took us a few weeks to figure out what I really wanted when I added milk tea to my order. And a couple more weeks before we clarified that I wanted the milk tea to be hot. But it’s ok. We are chums. Once my order was established, he remembered it. Which I appreciate. And when I come to his Bao-zi stand he starts to prepare me my Bao-zi and hot milk tea. Awesome.
No offense Bao-zi man, but I got a little tired of Bao-zi EVERY Tuesday and Thursday morning and now only go to him once a week. Bao-zi man did not take offense. We still wave at each other friendly-like even when I don’t make a purchase. Also, out of respect, I carry my alternate breakfast decision in an inconspicuous fashion so as not to flaunt the fact that he has competition. The other day, I decided to change it up with Bao-zi mand and I ordered “dan-ping” which is egg and green onion and a tortilla like something all rolled up together and cut into bite sized pieces. I think I might make a permanent switch to this order. But he will always be the Bao-zi man.
Bao-zi is pronounced kind of like “bow-zuh” except with tones. Bao-zi are steamed buns (think chewy bread rolls) and normally have ground pork and non-spicy spices inside. Or nondescript, mostly cabbage-y vegetables. Or other things that are also delicious but less common.
In the lower left-hand corner of this picture, you can observe a Bao-zi in all its glory. There is a red dot on top to indicate that it has meat inside instead of cabbage-y vegetables.
I like Bao-zi. I like Bao-zi because they are yummy. I also like Bao-zi because although I am basically illiterate when it comes to Chinese, I can recognize the Chinese characters for Bao-zi because the first character looks kind of like an “e” if you squint and the second character looks like a “3” with a line through the bottom. When I walk to Cijin on Tuesday and Thursday morning I feel hungry. When I couldn’t speak Chinese at all, I learned how to say Bao-zi. And then I recognized the character at this little, green stand on the side of the road near my school. And then I met Bao-zi man. I also like Bao-zi because they introduced me to the Bao-zi man.
Bao-zi man is elderly and wears a striped polo shirt. It emerged the other day when Bao-zi man was not standing in his stand that he is shorter than I previously thought he was. Bao-zi man has a wife who makes the food.
I normally can’t understand Bao-zi man and he normally can’t understand me. This is because he speaks fast and slurred Chinese and I speak quietly and poorly toned Chinese all on a busy, noisy road. It took us a few weeks to figure out what I really wanted when I added milk tea to my order. And a couple more weeks before we clarified that I wanted the milk tea to be hot. But it’s ok. We are chums. Once my order was established, he remembered it. Which I appreciate. And when I come to his Bao-zi stand he starts to prepare me my Bao-zi and hot milk tea. Awesome.
No offense Bao-zi man, but I got a little tired of Bao-zi EVERY Tuesday and Thursday morning and now only go to him once a week. Bao-zi man did not take offense. We still wave at each other friendly-like even when I don’t make a purchase. Also, out of respect, I carry my alternate breakfast decision in an inconspicuous fashion so as not to flaunt the fact that he has competition. The other day, I decided to change it up with Bao-zi mand and I ordered “dan-ping” which is egg and green onion and a tortilla like something all rolled up together and cut into bite sized pieces. I think I might make a permanent switch to this order. But he will always be the Bao-zi man.
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