It’s spring in China. I know because the miserable trees outside have three blossoms each. More than this – I can feel it in my bones. Well, bones might be a stretch. Skin is more likely. Yes, I can feel spring springing all over my skin.

Right now it’s not hard to feel spring. When I open my front door and step out from my air conditioned cocoon, spring whacks me in the face. It is a solid thing, spring, and walking into it hurts. My skin tingles, sweat begins to pour down my face, and my heart longs for my air conditioned home.

Of course I can’t spend all day at home in air conditioned bliss. I have classes to teach, beautiful and charming students to educate, lives to enrich. Well, the students are more beautiful and charming when they’re not covered in sweat. A pat on the head to say “well done” requires mopping the hand on the student’s shirt afterwards. And there’s no guarantee the shirt will be dry.

The school has air conditioning, for which I’m grateful. The school turns on the air conditioning when summer starts. On the specific day when it officially is summer, and not a moment earlier – no matter what the temperature – the air conditioners turn the humid classrooms to icy fridges that no one wants to leave. Finally, a way to make students want to stay in class!

I discovered quickly that teaching while overheating results in spontaneous body meltdown. Standing motionless still results in a steady drip. It’s disgusting. But I’m not the only one. The boys in the class – seven and eight year old boys – sweat too. I don’t ever remember sweating like this in my childhood, but Wellington hardly reached this kind of heat. Anyway, seeing them sweat makes me feel better; I’m not the only disgusting wet creature around.

Being spring, the weather is fickle. The humidity alone is consistent, while the weather can be anything from fierce sun to thunderstorms. A thunderstorm is brewing now. The rain that precedes it whacks the windows in giant blobs. Now I’m in an interesting situation – too hot to want to talk, drowned out by the weather when I have to. I open a window the inspect the weather and find the rain pleasingly cool. A student joins me, face turned up to the rain with a smile of welcome. By the end of the class the students are lined against the wall, heads hanging out, soaking themselves cool. The bell goes and I lead the class in a shaking-like-a-dog exercise. Now the classroom is soaked too.

Since my English classes are extra-curricular, they are scheduled for odd times of the day. Parents usually come to pick their students up after class to take them home or to their next lesson. I chose to escort the kids out to meet their parents to take any blame there might be for parents confronted with dripping children.

I needn’t have bothered. Most parents had come to pick up their children on bicycles. Caught out by the sudden spring thundershower, they were wetter than their kids.

At least they were cool.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Michael Curry is a teacher of English to children in Anhui Province, China. His favourite and most successful classes are those aimed at children who have never spoken a word of English before. In breaks between teaching assignments he travels home to New Zealand to spend time with his family and dog, an English Pointer named Charlie.

Check out his e-book, 'Small Steps'. It's full of resources and guides for teachers new to teaching children, particularly when those children are absolute beginners. Follow this link to read more about it: http://www.booklocker.com/books/2058.html