The school visit was honesty one of the most memorable moments of my life. We were told at the gate that we were supposed to have some sort of “cultural presentation,” which we were previously unaware of, and so we split into our two groups, Indian and American. Us Americans couldn’t really think of anything impromptu that we all knew how to do, and so we settled for teaching the students how to dance the hokey pokey.
It was truly amazing to try and speak to the young students with our bits of broken Chinese. They performed Chinese songs, dance routines, and short skits for us. The school wasn’t crumbling, but neither was it very modern or well equipped with supplies. The classrooms were very stark and bare, with only chalkboards and desks and no air conditioning. However, the students, children of migrant workers, laughed at our silly dance, fed us ripened watermelon rinds, and jumped to take pictures with us. The whole experience felt like the reason we had truly come to China—to share our own education system and discover both differences and similarities in theirs.
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