*Sweats Nervously*

I was pretty worried about starting Kindergarten this week; by Friday I had observed three classes, spent two hours considering possible lessons, listened to several songs for kindergartners, and spent more time than all of the above in a slightly worried state about teaching the kids. It was the perfect time for a trip to a local hot springs.

I had forgotten until the week before that the school funded a trip to a hot springs for all the foreign teachers. Being an American, I had never been to one before, but from what I've heard, it's the perfect thing for a worried soul. After all, what's more relaxing than sitting in very hot water?

Before the hot springs, the school also budgeted to pay for a lunch of our choosing. Alex, who has been here the longest out of our circle and seems to know the city like Sherlock knew London, happened to know an enterprising restaurant owner who was starting a studio restaurant where we could eat lunch.We unanimously agreed upon the location, ordered our meals the day before and set out on Saturday morning.

I was surprised to see that the restaurant had been kidnapped from its native pasture in downtown Frederick and transplanted next to a small street in Shijiazhuang; it had the unabashed blend of strong, clean features mixed with industrial modern-deco that has proliferated in coffee shops and cafes in my hometown. The furniture was all simple black and white, surrounded by tasteful, black and white stock photos of books and fruit, with one wall of exposed brick, an ancient spotlight in the corner, and an unfinished but whitewashed ceiling to top everything off. I received cream of mushroom soup, a spaghetti appetizer and a simple chicken entree. Though the dishes came quite slowly, I still give the chef credit because every dish was authentic; there were no Chinese ingredients in what I or anyone else ordered.

After the meal, most of us got a drink from the also trendy coffee shop situated directly beneath the studio. Again, just like any Frederick Coffee shop, though this time a little less refined.

 And finally, we were off to the springs.

The hots springs were not that far from the city, only about 30 minutes, but within that time one of the teachers found an interesting word on the dictionary app we all use. I have since confirmed that the word is as vulgar as I first thought it was, so I won't repeat it here, but I will say I'll never think of green tea the same way.

After that interesting vocabulary lesson we were at the hot spring, and I realized that it wasn't a stand alone location; it was the major attraction of a medium sized resort, tucked in the middle among a small aquarium and some hotel buildings. This location gave me the impression that if it was in America, middle-class families would probably buy timeshares there.

The staff greeted us from the moment we stepped off the bus, and within minutes we were whisked into the changing room, given robes and flipflops, and then we had the run of the hot springs. I was expecting a more singular hot spring to be honest; one where it was all pretty much one pool, or a single spring that fed other little pools, but this place was actually a slew of distributed pools of different shapes, temperatures, and additives.

Additives? As in, one pool was sprite-bottle green with tea, and another had fish in it which cost an extra 36 rmb. Somewhere there was supposed to be a pool with rose petals. And I'm not sure what they put in the 'Happy Man' pool, but it was probably different than the nearby 'Happy Woman' pool. (To be honest, I don't think either 'Happy' pool had any surprises; otherwise they would have charged extra.)

We teachers started in a mid-range pool, that was 40-42C (104-108F). As one may expect, getting in was a slow affair, a kind of upside down version of that Calvin and Hobbes strip. After settling in the heat, I started to appreciate the allure of hot springs; it was fairly relaxing, and you couldn't ask for a less demanding social activity.

After about fifteen minutes, the group decided to move on to a different spring, and most of us migrated to a scented one named after some kind of tea. At long last, the kindergarten problem re-appeared. Erika, who teaches kindergarten already, asked me how I felt about it. After saying that sometimes I would rather sit in the spring while it was filled with ice than teach 3 year olds, she and a couple other teachers with experience told me about some of the ups and downs to teaching kids in that age range. I'm not really sure if their input helped or not, but before long, a couple of the guys moved on to another spring and I joined them.

We sat in a few different pools, but eventually we decided it was time for something a bit more exciting. Anndrew (no typo), Ruud and I shelled out the money to sit with the fishes. They were in a shallow little pool, and when you sit among them they nibble away at any dead skin they find, aggressively exfoliating anything that enters their watery arena. Instantly, I regretted it. I had done the same thing at Greenbrier back home, but those fish were smaller, less hungry and less well-trained than these fishes. It wasn't painful or 'uncomfortable,' but something about those fish really unsettled me, and I couldn't take it for very long. It was as though the sensation of the nibbling fish filled my mind, a sort of tickling that blotted out everything else. Very weird.

Next was a sauna, which was far more pleasant; it may have been my favorite part of the trip. I've never appreciated a sauna before, but I think because I actually had something to relax from, I got more out of it than usual. While I laid on the dark room's matted floor, in a sort of sensory deprivation, I thought about my job. And I realized how stupid I'd been about the whole thing. They were just kids; they probably couldn't tell if I was teaching them English or math, and they certainly didn't care if I made a fool of myself. As I relaxed in the timeless heat, I remembered that someone had once told me that all those kids want to do is play, they live to play, so the only thing I have to worry about was making the lesson fun. And if I based my lessons on songs from the internet, and gave them pictures to stare at or paper to scribble on, they would be happy.

They say that the reason saunas feel good is because you sweat out a lot of toxins while you sit in them. I think I sweated out not just my toxins, but also my concerns. In the next hot spring, which was a lobster cooking 44 C, I also came up with a good lesson. And just like that, I got over my kindergarten problem.

And isn't that why people started siting in very hot water to begin with?


If you want to see pictures of my studio cooked meal, I've added such photos to my album. Unfortunately, I did not get any pictures of the hot spring itself, since I wasn't comfortable with the idea of carrying my phone between pools of water.