Shenzhen Zen

Teacher, teacher. The kids are really beginning to warm up to us. Several girls in my class are attempting - somewhat unsuccessfully - to teach me to count to 10 in Chinese and scolding me daily because I haven't "studied." Another has made two colorful yarn friendship bracelets for me, which I've worn faithfully since she gave them to me despite the fact that it makes me feel a bit like a hippie wannabe circa 1973. She also wants me to come back to China and stay with her family. One of Julian's charges had his mother bring Julian a pizza from the local Chez Pizza Hut and other teachers are receiving similar honors, including tins of cookies, and, in one case, six packages of dried, salty squid. We've met some of the parents here, too, who want to be assured that their investment in the camp is paying off. It's caused some pressure on us via Sally Wu to be more "active" and "imaginative" and "creative." If we had more resources that might be possible but as it is we're all scrounging for materials and ideas. I loaned M a CD of Cheap Trick's greatest hits so he can do an hour on the band with his group. My kids are younger and largely indifferent to western music except for Michael Jackson and Westlake (British) and a Sino-LA boy band called F4. I don't think my Townes Van Zandt CD live in German bars singing "Dead Flowers" would cut it with them.