Strip Me

It was one of my last days in Shanghai. The temperature was climbing. Humid air served as a perfect example of pressing stillness... Though, then I cared no more for weather, I walked around the city in high spirits with images of Slovakia and Edinburgh clarifying in my mind and calling me back... with sense of accomplishment and thought of the most perfect reference letter that was so overly positive, it almost seemed fake. On that day I was coming back from the city centre with a bag of presents for my family along with one and only thing I always wanted but never had courage to buy: the red coat.

Red coat and I, we have a long history. It would be to consuming and a little counter-productive to retell the story just now. All you need to know is that as a result of random events over the years this red coat transformed itself in my mind into a powerful symbol. Symbol of something, someone... I wanted to be.

So, there I was freezing in the confined space of underground train as a natural result of unearthly cooling air-conditioning power. I got off the train and made my way up the stairs, through the corridor... and up the stairs again... where, instead of an exit, stood a cluster of people all absentmindedly watching the storm flood the street with inappropriately large amount of water. Umbrella would be useless, thus I joined the crowed with resignation and watched the raindrops pour down in angry rebellion. It was a little inconvenient; on the other hand, I was happy to feel at least that feeble promise of fresh air which was not to truly come till autumn.

When the rain seemed to recede a little I took my chance, opened my umbrella and stepped out of the crowd into the rain. I walked down the street with stubborn determination to make it home before it gets worse. I walked on down the never-ending street along the park when thunder roared above my head and rain started to regain its strength.

I can still make it, I thought.

What I did NOT think about was a little insignificant fact that the bag I was holding was made of paper. Suddenly, my determination melted in surprise as I watched the content of the bag spill on the sidewalk, leaving only shreds of drenched paper in my hand.

That was it... I folded the umbrella, put on the red coat, picked up everything else and shovelled it in my bag. As I stepped forward again, an enormous lightening stroke across the sky followed by ominous sound of thunder bringing another wave of pouring rain...

I looked up to the sky and... laughed.

Letting the rain cool my skin, flow down my cheeks, soak all my clothes... I spinned around and stepped ahead ever so lightly. And then, randomly and out of nowhere, the music came... the lyrics and the melody of Natasha Bedingfield’s ‘Strip me’ resonated within me so realistically I would dare to say it was real.

La-la-la-la-la la
lala la la-la la lalaaaaa

I walked down the street in pouring rain smiling like a fool.

Every day I fight for all my future something
A thousand little wars I have to choose between
I could spend a lifetime earning things I don't need
That's like chasing rainbows and coming home empty

My shoes filled with water, so I took them off and sailed through puddles, moving smoothly as if dancing... as if it was the most natural thing to do... and the sound of passing cars disappeared...
And if you strip me, strip it all away
If you strip me, what would you find
If you strip me, strip it all away
I'll be alright

The storm was enveloping my every step though the sky was suddenly lighter, the air was clearer...

Take what you want steal my pride
Build me up or cut me down to size
Shut me out but I'll just scream
I'm only one voice in a million
But you ain't taking that from me
You ain't taking that from me
You ain't taking that!

The storm was everywhere but inside me.

And if you strip me, strip it all away
If you strip me, what would you find
If you strip me, strip it all away
I'm still the same

This was a movie scene... my movie scene because this time I was the girl in the red coat.

Cause when it all boils down at the end of the day
It's what you do and say that makes you who you are
Makes you think about, think about it doesn't it
Sometimes all it takes is one voice....

I reached the doorstep of my temporary home at last, looked up, spinned in the rain for the last time and ran inside. When the door of the lift opened on the sixth floor, the lady who took care of our floor froze in the movement while cleaning the floor and looked at me in shock as I stood there barefooted, water dripping from every inch of my clothes... then she burst out laughing and shook her head (then she inconspicuously followed me to my room drying the puddles I left behind...)

Sometimes I think I really am crazy, but then I like being myself... and as my friend said if being crazy is what makes me happy, that is all that matters.

Oh well, it’s good to do something irrational at least once a year :) .

SnapShots

Stop and Stare

One random Sunday afternoon, Mariana and I decided go to the Bund (the riverside with famous view of Pudong, Shanghai’s financial centre). If you google images of Shanghai on the internet this is the photograph that will pop out hundred times too many. I was curious to see it with my own eyes but as it is with most of things we were urged to be impressed by, they end up failing our unearthly expectations. Don’t take me wrong. It was impressive in its own way. However, the insignificant little streets of this sparkling concrete jungle seemed to lure me by their lucid secrets more successfully.

One of the first things that startled me was the amount of people who decided to enjoy this afternoon in the same manner as us.... and curious lack of tourists. Of course there were tourists mingling here and there finding their way through the crowd but in terms of math the number was negligible.

The second thing... taking into account this was one of the most visited tourist attractions in the city, one would expect the staring wouldn’t be such an issue. I don’t even think I have ever made such utterly wrong assumption in my entire life. It does not matter where in China you are... if you are not Chinese you will receive fair amount of inappropriate staring ( I was said that in Shanghai it is not bad at all... that puts going out to other less known places in rather harsh perspective).

That little attention I received was uncomfortable, though it was nothing comparing to what Mariana had to face... Chinese people were incredibly tactless in regard to black people. I understand that in many cases that was the first black person they have ever seen... but it was the lack of consideration or tact that shocked me. Some people did not even try to be inconspicuous... not even a little!

That was the first time (at least for me) we were asked to take a picture with someone... To me it was quite incomprehensible... to take a picture with a random stranger... what do they do with them? Show them to their friends? Put them in a photo album? The worst thing was that most of the time people were nice about it, they asked politely and many times it was difficult to say no. Do not assume it were only young people who did so... actually, it could have been anyone... any age or gender or style... It was difficult... especially when it was family with little children... Chinese children are the cutest things in the world! Simply adorable! (Not that all the other children of all the other nationalities would not be cute... but there is something about Chinese kids that makes them even more so... or maybe I am just not used to seeing them so often, oh well.. whatever)

Completely another matter was people who were trying to get a clear snap shot of us without asking... that simply pissed me off every single time! That was very rude!

In any case, there were days I would not mind at all and I took it as a little personal tax for my life in China... something that was there whenever I left my apartment... but many times I would cease to notice... some days I could walk through streets in a cloud of liberating negligence.  I created my personal map of life within this city... with places and faces I crossed and saw each and every day... and familiarity gave my space to breath, an opportunity of not being an outsider ALL the time.

Well, then there were days it would drive me nuts! Days, when I just could not bear it, not for a moment... On those days, Mariana would have to listen to me criticising everything from the shape of the sidewalk, through insane driving, the way people talked, walked, drove... lived...  and I would go on and on because I needed to let it all out... all that harsh feelings that were not even true (They were a bucket of collected raindrops which, at some point, was bind to spill and flaw right through me...) It was better to let it go in harmless unnoticed wave of irrational overstated criticism than have a random stranger suffer a blow from my bad day frustration... so, Mariana would listen to me, I would listen to her... thus, together, we were saving Chinese strangers from possible traumatic experiences followed by phobia of foreigners.

Though, I must say we met some really nice time to time even peculiar people who unintentionally created stories for us... stories we once might tell when a random event reminds us of that summer in Shanghai...

I suggested that one of these days we should just come up to random Chinese person and ask them to take a picture with us :D ... I would like to see the expression on their faces....

***

At the beginning, I mentioned that the view of Pudong was not all that impressive as I formerly expected... well, we returned at night, when all the lights were sparkling away their magic over the city... it was beautiful, however, still not as breathtaking as I hoped for... Until...

Forget about the view of Pudong from the bund! If you ever have a chance to visit Shanghai, choose a night and get carried away... lose yourself in space... cross the river and see Pudong not from the distance but from the ground. When I got off the taxi and gazed up for the first time, I was stunned! There was the emotion I was looking for! All you have seen in sci-fi movies... all that you have formed in your imagination as a vision of future... Well, there it was... in front of me, behind me, next to me, above me!

The lights were floating around and falling... sparkling and glittering away in synchronised mischief... outlining daring visions of architecture like tight black cocktail dress outline woman’s body. And there I was, little insignificant human being... but all that greatness did not intimidate me, because that greatness was a result of human mind... and I happen to own one of these myself... I got it for free the day I was born... :D

Melting away

Weather might not seem as one of the interesting topics, however, I feel more them obliged to mention it since it has been totally killing me from the first moment I set my foot into this country.  First three weeks got lost in an uncertain smudge of rain hanging over my memory... though, I remember it was so hot (at least that is what I thought back then... when I had no idea what was about to come).

Despite the incomprehensive amounts of water that were coming down from heavens every day in the form of waterfall rather than raindrops, the temperature of lovely 29-30 degrees Celsius stubbornly refused to drop even a degree... not speaking of air which behaved as if all that water cutting right through it did not exist and thus it did not feel like getting any fresher.

Now, all I have to say is that those first three weeks... it wasn’t hot at all.... not even close.

The rain came and went, giving way to heat and humid air which reigned over the city as if no such things as raindrops ever existed. Simply put, during summer, Shanghai is the world’s largest sauna (and I am NOT exaggerating).

Mariana and I developed a lovely habit of walking to and from work every day as being forced to sit for nine hours in front of a computer screen caused us insomnia... plus buses in Shanghai were like roller coasters in real live action... suddenly, crossing few intersections did not seem so suicidal at all. Well, it would be lovely indeed if not for the fact that each and every morning we would sweat all the liquid from our body within one minute of leaving the air-conditioned apartment and reaching the elevator.

It is in Shanghai where I, for the first time in my life, woke up, undrew the curtain, saw the incredibly blue, blue sky and said: Oh, shit! (We realised that the situation is getting serious when we found ourselves speaking encouraging words to the wind... there is nothing weird about me speaking to inanimate objects but Marianna? Yes, situation was serious)

Moreover, I don’t think I have ever before cared for my drinking regime so much. It was inevitable! I usually drink a lot of water but this was too much even for me... Each day I would drink more than five litters, three of which would be before noon... and I would still be thirsty!

Honestly, I deeply admire people who are capable of living in these conditions their all life... Constant nudging presence of heat throughout three or four months while one must still go on, go to work and continue dealing with busy city life...

So, when I say Shanghai during summer is like a Finish sauna it is not metaphorical. If you walk the streets... if you stay out you will sweat your soul out, you will feel as if you were not breathing at all because it did not seem to make any difference what-so-ever.

You can’t even imagine how much I am looking forward to be complaining about bloody cold wind and rain that falls horizontally!!! ;)

Where is the Hitch?

Learning a language is like becoming a double agent... or an actor. You must embrace a new personality, although, that doesn’t mean your old one will perish from this world. At the worst, it might become a little jealous (but also a little less lonely). With every word learned you are taking upon someone else’s centuries of history and culture... you learn to feel and express yourself in entirely different manner...

Of course, at first, your ‘acting’ is more or less suicidal mission, but if you stick to it, you might stop torturing your brain and, step by step, tying words together will become easier. It will slip into your subconsciousness and be left at the mercy of secretive intuition as its only guide.

In every single process, no matter what language you study or why... before you will be able to master it, before you become good enough to transform the language... you will be transformed by it.  And this momentary transformation will change you. It sounds rather theatrical but it is true nevertheless. Those who already speak more than one language will probably know what I am talking about.  Although, many people think it is the experience that changes you... I dare to disagree!

It is the language! 

It is the experience of seeing and feeling differently from what we were taught, differently from the way we were brought up... and the reason we are capable of changing our perception IS the language.

When I first came here, it took me approximately one day to get annoyed by not understanding what was being said around and not being able to express at least Hi, Please or Thank you... It took me a week to get extremely annoyed. You see, I am not used to being in a country whose language I don’t speak at all... Not even a tiny little bit...

All I heard were noises... useless syllables.

Chinese language classes were part of the package from the Agency. I was to be taught eight two-hour sessions, plus another eight as an apology for forgetting to get me a SIM card and bedding upon my arrival as promised (I had no idea they were supposed to provide me with any of that, but I was not about to argue, I accepted the lessons). Later on, my company hired a Chinese teacher and advisor for the interns as well... so I ended up quite overwhelmed... someone up there really but really wanted me to learn Chinese... Believe me, I would, I really would do it... I would go all the way... But before I need to get my French to the level of my English, my Italian to the level of my French... and pull off Russian and Spanish... so, unless I have buy and external memory space for my brain, it’s simply not happening....

Chinese is bloody difficult!

These classes were to get me through this summer and help me understand the people who spoke it.

At first, I was terrified... all those words were so difficult to remember. I was lucky that in theory the sounds were quite similar to Slovak pronunciation, but the way they were combined... that is another story. I thought I will never be able to remember any of them. They were similar to nothing! Nothing I have heard before... and that is the way I remember things... I stroll along the chain of my twisted logic to connect seemingly un-connectable things. Though, here... here I was lost!

At least at the beginning, it took a lot of repetition (now, I don’t want you to think that I actually studied a lot...working like crazy five days a week I was exhausted... so my study was omitted to almost nothing... in another way- I am trying to say you should admire me unconditionally for this... because I had nerves to study during summer and because I was able to REMEMBER some of it eventually- even with such pitiful effort!).

My real problem was the tones. As many of you know, Chinese is a tonal language (meaning you need to watch your intonation). There are four tones applied to all vowel sounds. First one was neutral , second tone went up like when we are asking a question, the third required to lower the tone and then take it up again... the fourth was short and terse as if finishing a sentence. My intonation is a wild serpent... I cannot control my voice (well, now, after two months of online teaching I can – I am so gooooood, actually- but I couldn’t before... at all... so...) ... I can control my voice, but taming my intonation on 24/7 bases is not my cup of coffee. To me, the most problematic turned out to be the neutral tone. I could go up and down and down and up but holding a straight tone?

My Chinese teacher said I was an exception to the rule because I always had problems with stuff I was not supposed to have any trouble with, and I did easily all that was supposed to be complicated... She also said I was very talented in Chinese (muahahaha) although I do not quite agree. Honestly, I think I suck. However, this language really started getting to me. I like it. It so very different and miscellaneous it attracts me as gold does magpies.

Studying this language helped me explain some very common mistakes of my students as, for example, total ignorance of past tense in certain cases, since they again use a syllable at the end of the sentence to express positive past tense or place special word before a verb to express the negation in the past tense. Secondly, they often forget to put a verb ‘to be’ in purely adjective based sentences because in Chinese this sentence structure does not require verb at all... in practice, I often hear: ‘Today very hot!’ ... and so on...

In regard to people and culture...I developed a hypothesis. You see, Chinese people tend to be less open and less emotional as supposed to, for example, English speakers. They are not too fond of expressing their individuality either (this might also be the result of the regime not language... although now that I think of it, the regime might be the result of the language... a bit over-the-top but interesting thought nonetheless).

In Chinese, it is extremely intricate to become your SELF within the language mainly because of the tones. Being forced to bare the tones in mind suppresses emotions... I mean, it is the intonation that reveals the real meaning of the words.  One needs to know this language thoroughly to be able to afford the luxury of getting emotional... like Chinese people... you need fight your way through the wall of aloofness in order to be allowed to see any further.

English, on the other hand, (comparing to other languages) has little grammatical structure and is more-or-less left at the mercy of self expression and emotions... which is so incredibly fascinating about it!

 I already found out it is not advisable to say a statement with affirmation-seeking question mark. Chinese uses a special syllable at the end of the sentence which clarifies the questions as questions. One must be exceptionally careful because changing a tone could mean saying ‘horse’ instead of ’mother’... or something terrifyingly similar!

Now, the question is: Is sarcasm possible in Chinese?

Sarcasm?

Nooooooooo... :)

Peculiar life of an office worker part 2

It is almost ridiculous that I have written so much and yet I am scarcely at the beginning. And time... time is pitiless because in reality I am approaching the end with uncontrollable speed... which I cherish and resist at the same time. The truth is I am exhausted... I am afraid this weariness cannot be hushed up with a night of comforting sleep. Coming here directly from France... without time for contemplation of what I have done and learnt... without time to acknowledge the new ‘French’ part of me which fiercely fought its way through the ground and awkwardly bloomed into still-grammatically-incorrect-but-nevertheless-ready-to-speak flower... was a good idea, bad timing.  I feel as if my brain was about to explode... as if I was about to break down the moment another information conquers the barricades of my senses and finds its way to the brain.

This was a challenging year which made me feel, for the first time in my life, as an adult person, no longer a child (I still haven’t decided whether that is good or bad)... I think I overestimated myself in committing the next step without letting the previous lesson to soak in. Please do not think this means I am unhappy, unsatisfied or distressed... none of that nonsense. What worries me is the fact that I am not quite able to jump into it and let the current take wherever it pleases.  Being open to adventures, explorations, contradiction of ideas... that is the fundamental element of ... whatever I do. Frankly, I find it quite difficult to let myself go this time. I enjoy my time in Shanghai, yet I feel I am doing it half-way... and I hate, sincerely hate doing-things half-way. It’s all or nothing.

***

This previous two paragraphs were meant to describe in most thorough simplicity that lately I have been feeling a little.... cranky.

(Thus, I might be little more open to criticism than normally and I am afraid my vision of Chinese culture has been slightly compromised. Therefore, forgive if here and there I will get into passionate discourse about insignificant details.)

But let’s go back to work... literally!

My training took about three days... although the first one was the worst... fortunately the day after, Mariana, the other new intern, joined me in my eternal suffering and future seemed a little brighter. I dare to say, she became the most important person of my brief encounter with China and only knowing her was worth the struggle. It will never stop surprising me how people from different parts of the world will get lured into decisions that will bring them to places where they meet people who too got lured by ideas into decisions and who very probably come from unbelievably different background... but, despite all that, present hauntingly similar set of mind! What can I say, universe... God... Allah... (Or whatever you call him/her/it) is a mischievous fella!

I know, I know... I should appreciate I received any training at all since I was told we were the first to get a proper one. All the poor souls before us were pretty much thrown to the wolves.  Though, to be honest, I would prefer that because being lectured on all those details of teaching only made me uncomfortably aware of things I would otherwise do naturally... (Those, when actually thought of seemed impossible to achieve).  

Playing a demo class with my boss was not my cup of coffee my friends, not at all!

Too stressful!

So, though a little nervous, I felt relieved when I was about to teach my first class. Knowing that the person on the other side of the line is going to be hundred times more scared then I could ever be gave me the sense of responsibility I desperately needed to put my act together.

And so it went...

One by one, meaningless names on my schedule gained voices... the voices gave names their personalities... those personalities sparked flickering light of passion and commitment inside me. More I taught less I cared about outlines and structures.... outlines and structures did not know my students as I did. So I let them speak...

Our company offered set of classes that were carried out either in 15 or 20 minute blocks on days and intervals according to students’ preferences. These blocks could have been turned into double classes of 30 or 40 minutes. We offered courses for school grades, conversations, discussions, business English and many others...  The person on the other line could be a lawyer, engineer, student, housewife as well as nine year old child. It is from them I learned the most about China.

I must admit I was quite sceptical at first about online teaching but it is not such a bad idea. After all, we live in a very busy world... to have at least fifteen minute conversation with a native speaker every day can make hell of a difference... online teaching in combination with classic lessons... that could make a person speak fluently in a year! (But I will take the liberty of keeping the ideas to myself in case Mariana and I decide to build a world-changing multi-billion business in the futureJ)

Some students were unbelievably good, others struggled but all of them were quite eager to learn. (except one little twelve year old boy who decided to make my life miserable by answering all my questions by simple and painfully short YES or NO... which would not be so bad if he wouldn’t be so bloody good in English.. but I managed... I don’t know how but I did).

At the end of each class we were supposed to fill in so called daily report with major corrections and remarks... at first I found it impossible to type it while still taking active part in the class but as time went by... I found myself asking, listening, typing, surfing the net for more accurate information, exchanging messages on internal office chat and enjoying my coffee at the same time without great effort. Most of the classes felt like calling a friend.

My students liked me and said to me often that I was a great teacher. Flattering indeed but I wasn’t so sure it was true... you know my teaching was... not very structured... it was more about going with the flow... every student had its pace and style... weakness and strength... I liked letting them fall into topics they were passionate about because being concerned more about the idea gave them courage to take risks and try to say words and sentences so far unspoken... (Even though it sometimes meant changing the subject all together it was worth it... I mean, as a new teacher I was being checked on everyday so if anyone had problem with it I would be told very quickly... since no one ever said a word to me about it... I did my thing).

The second part of my work description was program creation. During First two weeks, I was working on sample classes for children and adult programs as to blow the cover and expose my secret talents. Cornelia really liked my suggestions for adult programs and was about to let me continue working on renovation of Power Talking Program when she realized that I in fact study in UK. 

This was the magical moment where all my theoretically useless knowledge of Britain acquired from my legendary experience as a foreign student came to very practical and valuable use! How funny is that?

The program was called Study Abroad: United Kingdom and was to be created as a supplementary program complementing already existing class focused on preparing aspiring international students for the speaking part of British IELTS test. It was to familiarize people with British culture and student life (Personal comment: MWAHAHAHAHAH)

Thus I happened to be in custody of this little tiny program in its infancy. It was time to get rid of the diaper and start potty training! Cornelia gave me list of topics they already thought of marking those few that were already written and asked me to think of some new ones because they needed 60 and had only around 35... I scanned the topics and evil grinned spread on my innocent face like plague. I was going to nail this thing!

The topics they thought of were all excellent, however all of them where topics about Britain thought of by British people... and trust me, there is much more to your culture than you realize that might seem awesome, funny, strange or annoying... all those things I complained or laughed about, criticised and embraced...

I had the list of topics finalised by the end of the day and the program written and completed in three weeks. Towards the end I suggested we could add a part with most used English idioms, clichés and phrasal verbs (one tagging along each lesson) accompanied by a cartoon picturing the phrase in a fun way which would make easier to remember them... Cornelia loved the idea... I offered I could draw then as I believe to posses some sort of an artistic talent in this areas as well... so in this couple weeks to come I will be getting miserable pay for drawing cartoons and teaching or (as I prefer to call it) talking to people.

As you can see I really love the job. However, I came into crystal clear conclusion that I could never ever have an office job and for that I am eternally grateful I came here and saw it for myself... I couldn’t do it... even if I would like the job because... office job is an energy sucking, creativity killing beast.  All the work I have done for the company I would be able to do in half the time... of course they don’t know that... they think I am fast (because they don’t know me).

Half of those days I was cursing each minute I had to sit by that computer... also because I (as well as the others) came to notice all that did not work within the walls of this office. (I could write another three pages about what they do wrong and what will bring them down if they don’t change... In fact, I feel Cornelia is the only person who kept the place going. Without her it would crumble before our dear CEO would even noticed...) but I don’t want to talk about it. Not now... Not when I finally overcame my rage against human greed and... well... stupidity and settled into quiet stage of apathy towards all that... I had my share of work and I gave it all I could, although I felt, with a different motivation I could have given much more... all of us could.

It is a mystery to me how people continue chasing after money when the simplest way to get rich is forget all about it and do your job well.

So, if you ask me if I recommend this internship, I would say I recommend AN internship... not this one though...

Just for information: Teaching English in China is a gold mine... just be careful who you work for... English teachers are incredibly well paid... except in the company I work for... but then again I did not come here to earn money I came here to live, learn and remember and that mission is being accomplished... ;)

Peculiar life of an office worker

Before I go any further with description of my encounter with Chinese culture, I presume it is necessary to address few rather significant details of my internship and some other (more-or-less important) issues which I have come to understand after four weeks in this company. I believe it is high time to do so, since it will all be over in less than four weeks. Simply put, I need to write about it before I lose the interest to discuss it at all.

As I mentioned before, the first night I was foolish enough to fall asleep at very, very wrong time and continue sleeping and waking according to central-European time zone (or whatever it is called). In any case this resulted in me going to work for the first time with barely three hours of light sleep and with my neglected body desperately screaming BATTERY LOW...

I woke up way before my phone even realized there was something like and Alarm clock app in the deepest corners of its software. Subtle tension was tightening its grip inside my chest... I knew it far too well to be pleased by its reappearance even after such a long time. This feeling was unpleasant but not strong enough to throw me off balance... that could mean only one thing: All will go well but at some point of the day I will lose it and freak out a little and I won’t be happy about it (And that is exactly what happened, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves). So, I got dressed (gave myself a little power talk and a hug) and took off on the legendary journey of peril and adventure: Office job.

I took a bus drowning in paranoia as to get off at the right bus stop which, fortunately, I managed without trouble... then one adrenalin survival-of-the-fittest type of experience (alias crossing the road) and there I was! When elevator took me to the 17^th floor, it was still half an hour before I was supposed to show up... oh well... I was there alive so, I did not really give a damn.

I am not quite sure why I was so stressed in that moment. You see, I knew exactly how it would happen because the story always unfolds that way… This week was going to be the toughest nut in the bowl but I knew I will manage if not even become insanely good at it (this is not being conceited but rather a matter of experience and sadly unforgiving pride- do not be afraid though; this mean personality trait tends to manifest itself and be unforgiving only towards me). So, you see, I would never forgive myself if I have not done my best… or at least (in case of laziness winning over pride) what others assume is my best because it is acceptable according to their personal standards. This would grant me the freedom from other people’s expectations but never from mine. Sometimes I wish I would be able to give myself a break… (Which I don’t really want but in time of crisis like the beginning of my Shanghai affair, I wish for it almost angrily).

Therefore, while seated in the waiting room, I had a disturbing inner fight which went pretty much like this:

Why on earth do I do this to myself?

Why do I have to be so bloody stubborn???

I could have been at home enjoying dolce-far-niente. It would make my parents happy to have me around for some time. I could spend couple weeks on the beach drinking mojitos, sun tanning, and reading… have fun and enjoy the care-free unfulfilled life.

But no! Noooooo…. I have to always come up with something to make my life more difficult….

I am in Shanghai about to teach English online… I don’t like big cities, I dislike extremely hot weather (that comes buy-one-get-one-free style with mosquitoes) and I hate being on the phone with people I have never met!

Seriously?

What was I thinking???

I know, I know… This is what I want… spending the whole summer doing nothing (because I always end up doing nothing if I suffer from massive excess of free time…) … I would hate it.

I love challenges!

I love overcoming myself!

I love to dare!

I always do things I am most afraid of… to get rid of that fear once and for all…

I need this! I want to be here!

I know that if I was asked: Do you want to leave now? I would say no, without slightest hesitation! … blah blah blah blah…

BLAH!

I want my bed back!

I want decent coffee

I want people who speak my language! (At least one of them…)

I need a break!

In that moment, Cornelia, my direct supervisor to be, entered the room drastically pulling me out from tricky labyrinth of arguments within me. I was so startled that I did not even shake her hand… How wrong is that?

I am a mess.

However it may be, having a live English-speaking person beside me helped a bit. I took an instant liking to her. She was the kind of person I would respect as a boss which was an indispensable part of my motivation. Of course, my notorious pride would pressure me to do well for any kind of boss… but well is way beyond what I am capable of if I sincerely try… I think…

Anyway, the point is I would work for her; I would work for her more than well. (Plus, I adored her British accent. It was one of the most pleasant I have ever heard and trust me I’ve heard many…). Her voice was very soothing and soon the crazy amount of information channeled to my brain hushed up the relentless noise of my inner fights.

Plan for the day:

1.)   Introduction to my place of retreat, my own little cubicle in this big and scary world

2.)   Introduction to computer programs I will be most likely to use throughout the short period of my stay (which at that point seemed rather everlasting)… hmmm… the fact that vast majority of those programs were in Chinese did not make me feel any better.

3.)   Introduction to:

-        Tina, a woman from India who came to Shanghai two or three years ago, when the company was barely in its dippers, had a hell of an experience (here the word hell is bit more accurate than it should have been) and work her way up from an intern to teaching quality analyst. Although, it puzzled me what was she still doing there? Tina had two master degrees with one in English teaching and second in computer science… she could do much better for this job required a bit too much and was giving too little in return (but about that later). Tina was the sort of pleasant, polite and nice person… and a little strict, after all, she was the one in charge of my training…

-       Ann was a tiny girl from Philippines (my age or, I suspect, older since size usually makes people look so much younger- my older sister being perfect living example). Ann was a  full time teacher and sort of a supervisor at times because she was with the company longest (apart from Cornelia and Tina, of course)

 And other fellow interns:

-       Jesslyn, a girl from California but of Chinese origin who came to Shanghai to fill up   her gap year with experience. She was in the company since September and also spoke Chinese quite well. I liked her and from what I observed she had a type of personality that one could simply call cute. Although we’ve never become very close. She left back to US last week.

-       Jason, a boy from USA. I am not quite sure from what state exactly was he but then we never got to talk much as he was a peculiar and to me strangely foreign kind of personality. Moreover, he left two weeks after my arrival. I signed his goodbye card with neutral: It was nice meeting you and good luck…

-       Trey, a boy from London about whom I thought instantly that he is my kind of person just by one brief exchange of glances… Later, I was allowed to confirm my suspicion when we met by chance one morning on our way to work. That was the first time I walked there by foot and assumed that avoiding the bus will be good for my inner well being… anyway, in due course Mariana, Troy and I became partners in crime or, more accurately put, in crazy conversations and Shanghai-Indian adventures…

And few members of Chinese staff:

-       Rey… this guy could not speak much English, but I swear there was not a technical problem on this Earth he could not solve within 5 minutes (or, in case there was some hardware missing, maximum few hours, only because he lost time when he went to buy it)… his brain was and still is absolutely fascinating to me. Some people say I am smart… which I don’t deny completely but you see I come from a family full of mathematicians, chemists, engineers, accountants, managers and all kinds of other scientific sciences and numeric numbers… so, although ice-breakers, my free-spirited traveling, language, literature, history, social dynamics, art, and, writing concerns… they never let me feel particularly smart… I have always been insanely curious how would it feel to have that kind of brain power (Though, I still sinisterly enjoy being struggling artist… this is purely professional curiosity!)

-       Jessica, a young, fragile-looking girl who worked at the reception. I have only one word for her: sweet (and, personally, I have never thought there really is a person in this world I would describe this way…).  A little miss sunshine… I am not being ironic… she truly was this type of person… so innocent you longed to protect her from this big, big world.

-       Denise… she was our CEO. She was warm and welcoming from the very beginning or at least she tried. There was something I did not like about her… it was her smile… I believe it was the eyes that betrayed her beaming face. Don’t worry, she wasn’t evil… at least not completely… but her business spirit was already deprived of innocence.

4.)   Introduction to the office environment (translation and bilingual teachers departments, native speaking teachers part of the office and marketing department of which I only remember blank faces, buzz of computers and sneaky clicks of the keyboard)… then, location of the restrooms and, most importantly, locations of restaurants and coffee shops in the neighborhood which were, of course, a vital part of office experience! COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! (Yes, I am normal and no, I am not addicted!)

5.)   Further exploration of computer and its useful programs which were still swarming in picturesque cruelty of Chinese characters…

6.)   Lunch break (with Ann)

7.)   Training!

This was one of the most stressful experiences I ever had. When Tina handed me the gigantic booklet with detailed teaching instructions of every single course they had, my desperate expression pretty much said it all. I felt grateful that I was about to receive at least some training because as Tina told me before, when she got to Shanghai and this company two years ago… she was thrown right into the deepest waters of a schedule packed with 30 classes a day… But I dare to say I would prefer that… you see my intuition saves me where my brain looses simply because of unnecessary and exaggerated analysis! When I teach, I know exactly what to do as if I have done it for all my life. But seeing those pages and pages of information combining common sense with strict and scary structures and rules… (later I would come to relieved realization that the only thing I needed was the common sense… thank god!). Well…  At least one thing I know, teaching grants me pleasant feeling of satisfaction

8.)   They let me off couple hours earlier (at 5pm) as it was my very first day…

9.)   Coma… Initially, this was not part of the company’s plan (I hope not)… but I thought it rather appropriate to add it to the list because when I got out of that building the only thing that saved me was deep breaths… in and out… one after another… with combination of inner but nevertheless worthy interpretation of Dory’s famous song: Just keep swimming… just keep swimming… Arriving to my room I wrote message to my parents and Katarina that I had no energy to fulfill my Skype related obligations that day… and I passed out. Again! Thirteen blissful hours of heavy sleep, my friends… Thirteen!

         

When I woke up the next morning, the tension dissolved in unexpected anticipation… Oh, I was back in the moment…. Today… I could start to play the real game.