November 4 - Meeting some of my students on Nov. 1st

About an hour before Vincent came to pick me up, I went to take my first shower in Zhengzhou. I couldn't take a shower previously, because I had no hot water. It was finally turned on again (it had been off while the apartment was vacant) and I could wash away the grime and become a new man. When I took off my shirt, I immediately discovered that I was indeed a new man, in a very bad way.

I had a huge, bright red, inflamed, lumpy rash covering my torso from just under my chest all the way down to my lower thighs. As soon as I saw it, I began to itch. I had no time to do anything about it, however, so I took my shower quickly, trying not to scratch. For some reason, when I had clothes on, it itched less.

When Vincent came to pick me up to bring me to class, I came downstairs to meet him and we began to walk. It's a fairly long walk, but we had plenty of time before class. This was the first I had learned of where my classes were to be held, so I had no idea how long of a walk I was in for. It turned out to be pretty long and I've been taking the bus since then (buses are a whole other adventure).

While we were walking, Vincent revealed to me that my boss in Canada had called to lay down the law following my complaints, and instead of teaching four different subjects, I would instead be teaching only one subject per semester, business in the first semester and marketing in the second. These are the courses I signed up for and have textbooks for, so everything appeared to be looking up. I even prepared the correct lesson plan for that day, accidentally (as I had no idea if "Logistics" was going to be reassigned as "Business" or "Marketing"). That news took an enormous load off my shoulder, and I felt a little more relaxed as we sauntered into the student area where my class was taking place.

I live on the main campus, but there is a small satellite campus about ten minutes north of me by bus, where a few classes and almost all the student dormitories are located. Vincent asked around for help from some students to find the building, and when we finally got there, it turns out there is no elevator and my class was on the sixth floor. In fact, all my classes are on the sixth floor. I think I will be getting fit in no time.

We climbed the stairs amid the stares (ho ho ho ho) and muted mumblings of the passing students and finally reached the sixth floor, searching for my class.

Vincent found it and I walked in. Not everyone noticed immediately, but then as I was walking towards the lectern at the front of the class, I said "Hello!!!"

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" *CLAP CLAP CHEER* "so young" "so handsome" "帅哥 (shuai ge; handsome guy)"

And it wasn't just the girls either, the guys were saying this too. Unbelievable. I don't think anyone has ever been that happy to see me. My heart soared. I felt really welcomed. All my worries about being alone in China began to melt. All the students began to take pictures and videos of me with their cameras and their cell phones.

The class went well. The students didn't seem too overwhelmed by my English and everything was smooth and problem-free. I gave the students my email address and asked them to contact me if they had any questions. They all wanted my QQ (the ubiquitous Chinese instant messenger) and my cell phone number. I don't have a phone yet, so I couldn't give it to them, but I'll consider it once I get the phone. I am concerned about not being able to handle the number of calls I'd get. At the end of the class, I announced: "I've only been here for less than three days. I don't know anywhere to eat. I don't know any good restaurants."

I got mobbed. About fifty students out my one hundred student class rushed me at the front of the room and surrounded me. It was fairly surreal. One after another, so many of my students asked me to go out for lunch with them that I lost count of how many there were. Eventually I was carried along in the tide of students and out the door.

Outside the door, Vincent had sent me a student who speaks English very well, named Felix, to help me buy a second-hand bicycle. Unfortunately, my students really wanted to take me out for lunch, so I didn't have time to do much more than take down Felix's phone number and email before the students almost physically thrust him aside in their eagerness to get me to the restaurant.

So we went downstairs and out into the square at the centre of the satellite campus. I was surrounded by a mob of maybe 25 students. One of the girls, named Wu Si Min, confided to me: "All the girls think you are so handsome. You look like a movie star with so many Chinese people around you. How do you feel?"

I told her I felt strange. I'm really just an ordinary guy. There are plenty of other white people just like me in Canada. I don't know what I did to deserve this kind of attention apart from being a foreigner, though it's true that foreigners are pretty rare here. I have yet to see someone who is not Chinese (apart from myself) in Zhengzhou, although I am told there are five of us who live in this apartment building.

We went to a noodle restaurant that served some long, flat and fairly wide noodles in some kind of watery tomato-based soup. I told my students I would treat them all for lunch, but by the time we sat down our food was already arriving and they had paid for my food for me. I don't know how they did it. Anyway, I was really thankful for the lunch and chatted happily with the students - them in broken English and me in poor Chinese. At that point, I felt so relieved and happy that my students were and will be taking care of me that I can't express it. I hope I can be a good teacher, help them with their English and hopefully buy them a few meals in future too.

While trying to eat these particular noodles, I became aware that I wasn't quite as good with chopsticks as I would like to have believed. After noodles slipping through my chopsticks and splattering the table, noodles sliding up the chopsticks towards my hands and slurping up a noodle only to get tomato sauce on my nose, I felt pretty embarrassed at all the giggling coming from the students with me. There were 9 of us, including me, five girls and three boys. I'm normally able to handle myself fairly well with chopsticks, but these noodles totally defeated me, so I asked for help from the girl on my left, named Han Xiao Ting. She showed me that my usual technique wouldn't work well with these noodles because I was holding the chopsticks too widely spaced apart. I got her point immediately and was soon eating the noodles as quickly as everyone else, if not as cleanly. I made a huge mess of little soup flecks all over the table, whereas everyone else didn't make any.

While we were sitting at the table, two other students of mine came into the restaurant (I was facing away from the entrance, so didn't see them come in) and one reached over my head and plopped a little paper bag in my lap. "Present... for you!" she exclaimed happily. I took a look at the bag and it said "糖炒山楂" (tang chao shan zha), which turned out to be really delicious candied cherries. I don't even like cherries, so you know these have to be good!

After lunch, Wu Si Min, Han Xiao Ting and two of the boys, Liu Zhen and Xu Bin all took me to the "teacher's waiting area," which is like a mini teacher's lounge, to have a little break before my next class.

The second class went almost exactly like the first class, except I did not ask students about restaurants afterwards. One of my male students, I can't remember his name (which is unfortunate because he was so helpful to me), asked me if I wanted to go anywhere or needed help with anything.

I didn't need anything specific, but I was open to anything I said as I scratched my arm absent-mindedly. My arm began to itch like crazy. I looked at my forearm and it was completely inflamed and bright red. My rash had spread. I was thinking it would go away with time if I left it alone, but now it was covering both my arms and my legs were starting to feel itchy too. I showed a small part of the rash to my student. He said he would take me to my hotel and then take me to a doctor nearby. Han Xiao Ting magically appeared at my other elbow and she, my male student and another guy began to fuss over me as I said I didn't really want to see a Chinese doctor without insurance. Vincent still hasn't bought me Chinese medical insurance as of the time of this post. I was also concerned about seeing a local doctor instead of one of the doctors at the good hospitals in the city. My students told me that if I had a serious affliction, they would never take me to a local doctor, but that this doctor would be enough to take care of the rash.

I was still a little worried as we walked into the campus medical centre, though my students seemed unconcerned. My doctor turned out to be a guy with a limp who tried to make me pull off my shirt in the middle of the street so he could inspect the rash. Han Xiao Ting was a little embarrassed so she told him to take me inside to look at it. He looked at it for about 10 seconds, then grunted something in heavily accented Henan dialect, then he wrote me a prescription. Thus began the merry-go-round of back and forth between different offices at the medical centre to get my prescription approved, paid for and my medication obtained (all from different departments, apparently). I looked at the labels and saw that they were also labeled in English. I had been given Terfenadine and Cortisone cream. That made me understand that my rash must be an allergic reaction to something, as Terfenadine is a strong antihistamine that is banned in Canada and cortisone is regularly used to treat rashes. The students told me the doctor had said not to eat any fish or alcohol for the next little while or their interaction with Terfenadine might kill me. I was very reassured.

Next, the doctor sent us to the pharmacy to buy some further medication that he didn't have on hand. I didn't know what it was, but my students had my prescription in hand and led me to a nearby pharmacy. They asked the pharmacist to find what the doctor had prescribed and the pharmacist found it for us immediately. I looked at the label. It was calcium and vitamin D tablets. I had forgotten that Chinese doctors always prescribe vitamins no matter what. I politely declined, explaining that I was okay without these really expensive and not so useful vitamin tablets. My students really thought it would be helpful for my rash, because the doctor had prescribed it, but I still told them it was ok.

After that, they asked me if there was anything I needed for my house. I said I needed dish detergent and a dishrag. They took me to another store and we bought those things and some steel wool. They paid for everything before I could even open my mouth.

I didn't spend a single cent that day on lunch, candy, medication or necessities. My students paid for everything, even when I insisted on paying for myself. I don't know how to repay them. I've been told that Chinese culture is based on reciprocity, but they won't even let me get a word in edgewise.

Anyway, after that we walked back to my hotel and said our goodbyes. I have all the nine students from lunch's contact information so that was the beginning of my Chinese support network. Once I got inside, after a brief few minutes saying hello to my family via the internet, I took my Terfenadine, rubbed some cortisone on the worst parts of the rash and then collapsed into bed at 6pm or so and had my first good night's sleep in China. I managed to sleep for 12 hours. Everything seemed to be looking up.