It was here that I got my first taste of teaching. In the mornings we would be given lessons on the basics of teaching English as a second language and then the afternoon would be the real deal – into the class with real live children and a fellow newcomer teacher for moral support. As with anything, the first time was a bit nerve-racking but got a lot better as the time went on. I think I was actually quite lucky then as my teaching companion was a girl slightly older than me but seemed to be permanently ready to burst into tears at the drop of a hat. I might add that she never actually burst into tears (or drop a hat) at any stage, but always looked like she might. As such, I spent most of these 3 weeks trying to be as supportive as possible and giving encouragement wherever possible – even when she managed to take a swallow dive from the 10 inch high platform at the front of the classroom! Believe me, finding the right words of encouragement after a moment like that is not easy…especially when the loudest laugh in the class came from your mouth!

All in all it was a good experience and was over all too quickly. Unsurprisingly there were a lot of sad faces in the final day – a long way from home and everyone about to head off to a strange part of this oh so strange country. A lot of worried people and a few tears shed (not by me I might add!) as friend after friend was bussed away to continue their own private adventure. And then it was my turn. I wasn’t exactly bussed away – more like escorted. In a VW Santana with 5 other people to be precise. You can’t say I don’t travel in style!

I clearly remember the car arriving and watching as the front passenger got out, followed by the driver, who then opened the back door and allowed the next 3 people out of the car. I never like to follow stereotypes much, but the general idea that Chinese people are not as tall as us ‘foreigners’ is pretty much true. But still, when I looked down at my 2 huge suitcases I though that no matter who I sat in the back of any car with, if there are 3 others, there is going to be a problem – namely that I am going to feel like the proverbial sardine. And so I was. After being introduced to 2 of the 5 (apparently it was very unlikely that I would ever see the other 3 people and they couldn’t speak English anyway, so why should I be introduced to them?!) I crammed myself into the little space that was left in the back of the car and slammed the door against myself to ensure it was shut properly. And so my first episode of being in a car in Shanghai began…

I’ve since read about something called the ’20 yard stare’ which experienced travellers in China apparently develop. This is where the person seems to have a vacant look on there face and doesn’t really acknowledge anything less than 20 yards in front of them. Its actually a really good thing to have as it stops you from screaming wildly each time a pedestrian or cyclist looks like he’s about to meet his end at the hands of a VW Santana. Unfortunately at this time of the first car journey, I hadn’t developed this yet (it’s down to a tee now, by the way) and so within my confined space I frequently tried to adopt the crash position, as my driver continuously appeared to attempt to live out her death wish. Whilst I was contorting myself and wondering what on earth I was doing here I can only imagine what my new colleagues thought about their new foreign teacher who appeared to be convulsing next to them. Whatever, I think I had every right to fear for my life as we reversed back onto the busiest motorway in Shanghai after we took an early exit by mistake.