I cannot believe I’m wearing a sweater in 80 degree weather. I cannot believe I’m actually sick. My face feels like it’s about to fall off, I’m extremely congested and I sneeze every other minute. And if you know me, it’s not 4 sneezes, but 3 or 5 or 6. Not 4. I have fallen, another victim to the cold that seemed to take over the girl’s apartment two days ago. So here I am, 9:49 pm, planning a lesson on Zumba for tomorrow’s class and grading a never-ending pile of homework, while I’m sipping the tea that Alex- one of my students- gave me. She insisted it would make me feel better, so let’s give it half an hour to kick in? Class today, my first real lecture, was…eye opening. I don’t know how to express this accurately but I have never seen a group of students who are this motivated to learn. They not only squeeze every bit of information out of me during class time but also after classes, whether they bump into me on the street or invite me to have lunch with them. Cameron and Eliot were right, they do know the best places where to eat!

Today’s lesson was on General Tso’s chicken and how, ironically, it is not a dish that can be found in Hunan province, despite being the epitome of Hunanese cuisine in the West. This led to a discussion on whether or not being born in China is a requirement to be considered Chinese. Some students argued that it was more customs and behaviors that gave you a Chinese identity. “So if I behave like a Chinese person, am I Chinese?” I asked. Their confused faces surveyed the room looking for an answer, some sort of logic to this scenario. By the end of discussion, we had agreed that in order to be considered a Chinese person you had to look Chinese, behave Chinese, and speak Chinese, but that out of these three, it was the traditional behavior aspect the one that was the most important.

I don’t know how many times I’ve been asked by my students if I like Jishou and China in general. My answer is always the same: “I feel as if I’ve been here for more than six days.” Jishou feels like home, with its smells, its people, its heat even. It is home, yet so different from what I normally call “home.” And teaching feels like home too. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d end up teaching for a whole summer and actually enjoy it. Now, I can’t see myself doing anything else this summer. I not only spend with my students in class and precept, finding ways to challenge them and their ideas about the world and the West, but I also take part in Chill Club, Speech Club, Dance Club and Sports Club. I am called beautiful by my students at least twice a week, invited to lunch and sleep less than 8 hours per night, planning the lesson for the next day. I hope I get the hang of this-in the meantime, it’s so so fun! Ah-choo!! Excuse me…