Dichotomy

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Sometimes when I describe it to others, I feel as though I am not painting a fair picture of how Shekou truly is. If I talk about how nice my life is here and how I live in a pretty posh place, I feel like I’m neglecting the “rougher” side of Shekou. However when I tell stories of the dirty, gritty, and downright disgusting parts of Shekou I truly feel bad, because, really it’s not that bad. 

So I’m stuck with it dichotomy as my word of choice. 

As per usual, I am writing in the coffee shop, Emily’s (formerly Ande’s).  It is a really nice place.  Good breakfasts, sandwiches and a decent cup of coffee.  As I look around there are no Chinese here.  Not a one.  Wait one lady just walked in for a take away coffee.  But what I love is that all of those delicious sandwiches and mango chicken salad fixings come from the wet market just a few streets over.  I see the delivery guy come with bags of groceries in a giant laundry basket on the back of his electric bike.  The wet market is the same place where you find chickens being deplumed and various pieces of unidentifiable flesh laying out on tables for purchase.  Most ‘green’ westerners would at least utter a few “ughs” while exploring the wet market. But those ingredients take a magical trip through a makeshift kitchen in the closet of a bar or café and suddenly the food is not only acceptable, but it is worth at least three times as much.

It is true that I live a pretty charmed life here.  I can call the coffee shop and have a coffee (yes, one coffee) delivered to my school.  I can order groceries from an online grocery and have them delivered that day.  Many of my co-workers have drivers; someone to call up when they want to go somewhere.  Yesterday a co-workers driver picked us up from work, took us to Ikea, waited, drove us back to her apartment and then proceeded to carry a very large parcel to the apartment for us. 

There are truly two sides to Shekou.  Old Shekou.  Real(er) China.  And the posh, fancy expat side.

There is an area of Shekou called Sea World.  It is not a marine wonderland with whales named Shamu, but it is for sure a wonderland of western style shops and restaurants.  Dunkin’ Donuts, McDonald’s, TCBY, and Kodak as well as western style restaurants ranging from Mexican to German.  It surrounds an open square.  Currently you can rent motorized, plush animals to ride around the square.  Picture fuzzy Powerwheels with blinking eyes and music playing.  It’s meant for kids, but every time I’ve been through there are always adults enjoying the ride. This is truly fake China; plastic, perfect, clean and shiny. 

However if you walk just two blocks toward the water, you will find where the workers live.  The migrant workers who are building this new fake China, of shoddy skyscrapers and flashy Hilton’s.  What they live in, I would best describe as something like shipping containers, stacked one on top of the other.  Their compounds smell strangely like mothballs, I imagine in order to cover the more offensive smells. These men and women have come to the “big city” for a better life.  Every time I see them trudging home from work, I wonder, “Have they found that better life here, or are they just stuck here?”

As much as I try to explain this place, I’m afraid you have the wrong idea.  It’s not a bad as you think.  And it’s not a great as you think. I’ll never do it complete justice, so I feel like I just have to give up on describing Shekou.  So to make things easier, just come and visit. 

Third Culture Kids

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 I guess before I took on this adventure, I believed that people, when they moved abroad, do it for only a few years. I had heard many stories of, “I have a friend who taught in China for two years.”Or, “She did her student teaching in Prague.”

But never had I heard, “We’ve been living abroad for 20 years.”  Or “We’ll go back…never.”

Wha-what?  This is a possibility? This is a way of life?  Living as a modern gypsy, but with a career and a vacation home in Thailand?

Yes, this is a way of life.

I have met many people here who live or plan to live this way.  And in my classroom are the children of these adults.

Enter the Third Culture Child.

She can tell you where she was born, what languages she speaks, where she’s lived, where her parents are from, and what passports she holds. But, ask her where she is from and there is an uncomfortable pause before she begins repeating the litany of personal facts she can tell.

This third culture kid (or TCK) usually has developed the most interesting language skills.  They speak their native language (most of the time) and have taken on English as well.  But not the “American” English we know well, but this lovely hybrid of British, Canadian, Australian, Kiwi and American English.  It is not rare to meet a child, whose parents are Malaysian, who speaks the most perfect valley girl American English. 

Their social skills are amazing.  As they move around the world, TCKs develop skills to easily navigate the ins and outs of expat communities and international schools.  They are quick to make friends, generally extroverts and adapt easily to change.  They are very welcoming and accepting of others differences, which makes teaching them a really satisfying endeavor. 

As great as these traits are, they also have some social difficulties. As TCKs move from place to place, they also develop the coping mechanism of easy detachment.  They never get too invested since they never know when they will be leaving.  They are not very good at future planning. Since they do not know where they might be in the future, to a TCK, there is nothing more important than the present. 

The end of the school year is a tumultuous time for many kids, but especially for TCKs. They are dealing with huge emotions that even adults would deal have difficulties with.  Some of my students are moving back “home.”  Some feel the joy of returning to a familiar place with friends and family waiting.  For others, home is simply the country listed on their passport. It is actually an unfamiliar place with strange customs, strange family and no friends waiting.  But your parents expect you to be happy, because it is home… at least to them.

 The other day in advisory, I had to lead a discussion about our feelings for this time of transition at the end of the year.  Actually, I was a little afraid to try to have a conversation with middle schoolers about their feelings.  I was afraid all I would hear would be chirping of crickets.  But truly I was amazed.  It was like my kids were just waiting for an adult to ask them about how they were feeling.  Words tumbled out of their mouths:  Scared, sad, angry, excited, lonely, why, again, etc.  One of my students just said, “Comma.” When I asked for clarification she just said, “Like, it’s not the end, like to be continued.”

People ask me often about my students.  This is what I want you to know about them.  They are extremely diverse.  They are socially sophisticated in so many ways.  They deal with complex issues of identity and culture on a daily basis. But in the end, they are kids. 

This video is an excellent introduction to TCKs.  I see my students in these interviews.  Thank you Lynne for posting it.