During the first week that I was in Nanning, I began my training to become a teacher of IELTS. I was already under contract,
so the company wasn’t wasting any time in making me useful. Students around the country have to take either the IELTS test or the
TOEFEL test, or possibly other tests, if they want to study abroad in countries like England, Australia, and the United States where
they could earn greater credentials and possibly receive a greater education to return to China with eventually. Students always
tell me the education in the university is better abroad for some reason.
       On the first day of training, I went to Tai An building. There was a huge lobby after walking through the front doors and past
security guards, about five stories high. Many businessmen and women were constantly entering and exiting the building going up
and down the front stairs and through the lobby talking to each other using words I could still not understand. There were two
escalators that only went to and from the second floor on both sides of an entrance that went back to a small room with five
elevators where many people were waiting for their turn to get into an elevator. This building was wider near the base, about the
first five stories, and then became narrow and went straight up to the top, like someone stacked a tall and narrow building on top
of a short and wide one. I took one of the five elevators up to the eighth floor where Webster had its offices. In China, there is not
much of a concept of waiting in line. It’s whoever is in front will be served, and no one cares if you were first. It can be quite
annoying in many situations.  I don’t think people do it intentionally to be rude. It’s a habit that could have been formed when the
government used to hand out food tickets to all the citizens years ago, but I wasn’t around to see if that was true or not. Also,
people often do not wait for you to get off the elevator and start getting on as soon as the doors open. Inside of the elevator, it
seems to be a Chinese habit to always push the door close button. I once saw a man push the door close button when the door
was probably only five inches away from being fully closed. I think it was obvious that the door was already closing.
        The whole eighth floor was just for Webster’s company space, and the rest of the building had many other companies on each
floor. The elevator area was in the center of every floor, so the offices were built around it with entrances on two sides and stairs
of course. In Webster’s lobby, there was a front desk with several young women sitting at a long table with computers and a wall
just behind them with the company name and logo on it. There were some other small circular glass tables where some of the staff
sat down and talked to students about various things. Just in front of the entrance on the other side of the room was a large
window, and behind it was a classroom full of modern plastic desks, and a podium with some kind of listening equipment. There
were several people walking around and sitting on chairs and at tables conversing with each other, and I wasn’t sure where I fit
into the situation, so I sat down on a small orange couch in front of a small T.V. screen that was hanging up from the ceiling. Never
before have I worked in such a professional-looking environment. It had that serious tone to it. Most of the people whom I could
see working at the front desk had black suits on and walked around with that “Yes, I want to be taken seriously” kind of walk.
       There was another young lady there sitting on a chair not far away from where I was sitting, and she took notice of me and
started chatting. It’s not hard for me to recognize important people from the very first encounter. It’s mostly about their willingness
to speak and ability to understand my words that gives it away. Her name was Jamie. She was a little bit tall and thin and wore
glasses. She reminded me of a librarian with a slightly regal twist at first glance. She told me that she had studied for a couple
years in Australia and had come back to become a Chinese teacher of English. She definitely had an accent that was different than
any other Chinese person I had ever met. It sounded slightly Australian-ish.  I found out that she was going to be in the same
training program as I learning about IELTS, but we weren’t the only ones who were going to be training.
       Niall, whom I had met the other day when we went to the recreation center, was going to train us. About six of us student-
teachers gathered together with Niall in one of the classrooms and commenced the training. There was another foreigner named
Eric among us from Australia. He had Chinese ancestry, but there was nothing Chinese about him, culturally speaking. He was as
much of a foreigner as I was, and couldn’t speak a word except for maybe hello and goodbye. Niall explained to us exactly what
IELTS was about. There were four parts of the test; Listening, speaking, reading, and writing. The highest score students could
possibly get was a 9.0, but he explained to us that there is a certain level that most students get, and that even native English
speakers can’t get 9.0. Niall seemed to be very on top of his game and had such a quick moving mind that he could easily come up
with an answer to any question instantly. The name Niall does mean champion, after all. He certainly seemed like a champion
teacher. I remember he asked me, “Andrew, do you have a pen and paper so you can take notes? It’s not going to be easy to
remember everything.” and I responded with, “No”. “Oh dear, there’s one in every class. There’s always at least one difficult
student to deal with.” He said calmly but seriously.  It seemed like there was something slightly nervous about him, though he kept
it all under a calm demeanor. I hadn’t been a student for a long time, and I was never very good at it in the first place.
        Besides Jamie and I, the other student-teachers in the room were going to a city called Guilin not far away in the same
province to teach IELTS there at a new Webster training school that had just opened up. I remembered that name from several
years before. When I first went to Hefei to find a job and get away from Daler’s lying self, the person who originally made it possible
for me to go to China said she could possibly get me a job in that city. She said it was very beautiful there, perhaps the most
beautiful place in China, but I was not interested in it. At the time, I only wanted to be where Summer was. Guess it was destiny to
end up in this area anyways. Jamie and I were going to be sent to Guangxi University in another part of the city to teach IELTS to
undergraduate students in a joint project that was just opening up between Webster and the university.
        Jamie proved to me that she could be a nuisance with her sharp tongue during our training. I had recently shaven off all of my
hair on top and on my face, and Jamie said during one of our breaks, “Oh, I can’t see! The light is reflecting off your head!” A couple
of the others started laughing, but I wasn’t. Inside of my mind, I had to remind myself that not only was it an old joke, but me being
angry isn’t anything she would want to see, so I refrained from showing any anger. With me, it’s usually all or nothing, and I chose
nothing this time. I take personal jokes seriously.
        We had training with Niall and Becky, who was the head Chinese teacher, a couple times a day and were free to go home after
that. It was kind of annoying living on the sixth floor of the apartment with no elevator, but I made the most of it by running up
quickly for exercise and to cure the monotony of going up each time. My apartment was in the middle of the block exactly across
from Ti An, but there were some apartments and a big library in front obscuring the view a little. In my apartment, I had everything I
needed, but the washing machine was giving me some trouble. I would push buttons on it (not knowing what they were) and hope
the machine would do something, but it would just make some sounds and not do any spinning around like it’s supposed to. A
couple of times it worked, maybe because I pushed the right buttons, or the machine was broken and only had a few spins left in it.
I opened the refrigerator and saw a big spider at the bottom literally chillin’ out. Since I wasn’t using the fridge for anything, I closed
the door and left the spider in peace. A couple days later, I opened the refrigerator door again to see if the spider was still there,
and it was. I got a dustpan and swept it up, but it still didn’t move. I used to hate spiders when I was younger, but have since then
decided that they were created for a reason just like I was. I put the spider on the ledge of the kitchen window and poured some
water on it and it slowly began to move. I guess it was just thirsty, because it seemed to get its strength back as it started sucking
water from one of the small puddles and then it crawled outside. It didn’t have the communication skills to thank me for what I did
for it, but at least it would probably keep a few mosquitoes off my back.
        At the intersection of Gucheng Lu and Minzu Da Dao, there were always many people trying to cross. At each corner, there
was a small place that was disconnected from the main sidewalks to stand between the road and a small lane where cars and
other vehicles could turn right onto the intersecting street without worrying about traffic lights. It was not easy sometimes to cross
that little turn because it was not regulated by any traffic lights or signs. They had parasols on each of the corners where some
pedestrians would stand underneath and try to hide themselves from the sun while waiting for the light to change. I wasn’t sure if it
was healthy to avoid the sun as much as some of those people did. It certainly didn’t look healthy to me, since the sun is a great
source of vitality. There was a large digital screen that would play advertisements and sometimes played traditional Chinese flute
music up at one of the corners of the intersection where many people would have the chance to see it since it was a very busy
intersection. When the traffic lights would change, many people crossed the street from all sides along the crosswalk and meet in
the middle before they passed each other. Some people also rode electric bikes and regular bikes and would weave in between
the pedestrians who were crossing. A couple of times, I saw a young foreigner on a bicycle with reddish hair, but he didn’t seem to
notice me. He wouldn’t be the only one, though. I learned quickly that the people of Nanning were much more accustomed to the
presence of foreigners than they were back in Hefei. Here in Nanning, no one looked at me so surprised like they had seen a ghost.
Sometimes people would stare, but it wasn’t the same kind of stare as before. They were used to foreigners, but were still a little
curious about them. Also, when I would encounter foreigners, they didn’t seem as glad to be meeting another foreigner like they
were in Hefei. Some would look and then turn their heads quickly to pretend they hadn’t seen me. If they turn their heads quickly, it’
s obvious to me that they had already seen me. There isn’t anything slick about it. In Hefei, all of us foreigners were glad to meet
each other and could become friends easily. Perhaps there were more foreigners here that made meeting each other not so
interesting. Life was going to be different in Nanning.
China Dispatch/Andrew Gramling

Adjusting to Nanning