The Field Trip

“Oh, hello Teacher Amy!” I hear as I walk into work exactly on time at 8 a.m.
“Morning Molly.”
“You look tired. You aren’t used to waking up early.” This is not so much a question.
“Nope, you got me.”

Today we are taking 28 kids from our buxiban (cram school) on a special outing. They are done public school for Chinese New Year, so our school provides a “Winter Camp” for their parents to dump them at. I would normally go to work at 12:30, so this outing is not quite making me giddy. My only instructions are to watch the students and make sure they speak English. We are going to a science museum.

After we have given the kids three or four chances to go to the bathroom, we meet the bus outside and pile on. The bus is F’ing luxurious compared to the tin cans we rode around in when I was in school. It’s high set and spacious, plus there are doilies on the head rests, fancy curtains for the windows, several thin-modern TVs, and my seat has a faux wood tray/cup holder. Now, if only I had the foresight to buy a goddamn coffee.

The bus gets rolling and we pick up some more students and teachers from another Joy School. The DVD starts up; it’s an unanimated show about a man who sends a chimpanzee on tasks with a dog. In the first part, the chimp has to lead the dog down the road, across the river, to a farm, then come back home. The dog has a little backpack, so the chimp (called Abbo) has to make sure the lunch stays in. At the farm, the farmer lets the chimp eat the lunch, then gives him a melon to take back to the man. When the chimp fucks up (i.e. makes a wrong turn), the camera cuts to the frustrated man (“Abbo!”) who is apparently spying on his chimpanzee. It’s all in Chinese. So much for encouraging English.
“Teacher!”
One kid in the next row is leaving his seat. Between the two seats I see his travel buddy has a wet mouth and something on his hands. Brian Chen, no!

As I am the foreign teacher, I don’t have to get up. I feel bad about it, but not bad enough to get wet in some kid’s milky morning vomit.

I see my coworkers hand him a bag; the kid didn’t think to use one of the plastic bags in front of him. Then they grab tissues and begin cleaning up. Piles of tissues are put in the trash can by the back set of stairs, directly in front of me. I watch the antics of Abbo and try to keep my own stomach strong.

After about 45 minutes on the road, we arrive at the National Taiwan Science Education Center. The building is about nine storeys tall, and the first thing I notice upon entering is the clear escalator zigzagging up to each floor. All the mechanics are visible! I look up and see someone peddling an odd looking bicycle across a tight rope on the seventh floor. Now I’m excited. I can see a net with a few stray rubber balls underneath the rider, and some kind of ball cannon on either side of the tight rope. Can you try to hit the rider with balls?! It is a question left unanswered, because our students are to go straight up to the eighth floor.

We go into a room filled with inflatable moonwalks. There are six different jumping platforms – the kind you see at carnivals, or at rich kids’ birthday parties on TV. Retired grandmothers with headset microphones man each moonwalk. The students sit in rows and one of the volunteers explains the rules in Chinese. Then the students take off like cats riled up on catnip. Brian Chen, the carsick one, has to stop jumping almost immediately, go figure.

After half an hour of walking around the room trying to look busy, I get antsy. I want to know when the science and fun will start. I ask my co-worker.

“We will stay here until 10:50,” she says. “Then we can go back to the bus.”
“They’re just going to jump all day?” I ask. “No science?”
Mei laughs at me. “You seem so disappointed!” she says still laughing.

So I spend the next hour wandering around the room, and sitting next to Brian Chen. The students aren’t really talking, just yelling and laughing. There’s no English to enforce. I feel completely useless.

When it’s finally time to go home, we pair teachers with the high-risk students. And, as anticipated, we have two pukers. Brian Chen gives a good show again, and Calvin also puts his plastic bag to use. My enthusiasm for next week’s trip to the farm is waning. What disgusting adventures will we find there?