Youth is never wasted on the young

When I arrived in China I did not know what to expect really. I remember beeing shown my office, walking down the big halls, loosing my way, thinking: How the hell will I ever find my way around here? I remember passing students, their first reactions - excitement, shock and surprise in their faces, quickly followed by first shy “Hellos”.

I stepped out of the aircraft with the biggest passion for English, with hope and enthusiasm but it was a gamble whether it would work out or not. I had worked with young people before, I was more than interested in foreign cultures but could I make this work? I didn´t know a single word of chinese, I knew Beijing was the country`s capital and that chopsticks would be my new cutlery but was that enough to survive a year of being the only foreign teacher at a chinese high school???? Moreover, could I be a good teacher to them, and maybe even more than that???

Against all doubts I didn´t pack my bags but entered this unfamiliar territory, took one deep breaths, put on a smile and began my new job adventure. Of course it did not always go well, there was much to learn, but I remained focused, kept an open mind every day and tried.

Weeks and months passed, unknown faces turned into familar ones, new names entered my mind and remained, stories were told and memories made. Slowely unfamiliar doors opened – I was let into new worlds - their worlds - and I let them be part of mine. I was no longer a rumour they had heard about months before but someone real they could turn to for anything really. A smile, a chat, advice, help.

I saw the excitement in their eyes when I entered their classes every week, I noticed the happy and sad faces they put on, I saw forms of development with some of them. And so I became interested. Interest then turned into passion. For them I tried to be the best I could be. I listened, I cared, I entered every room with a smile and a passion for what I do knowing that my efforts would instantly be returned. A smile, laugther, a note after class, a raised hand for the first time...It was enough to keep me going.

When it was time to say good bye the effect I had on these kids, the hours of teaching, singing, playing games, dancing, enouraging them over and over again showed. It was a week of good byes, tears, presents, letters and sad faces. I no longer went to class with a smile on my face but I knew this was as much part of it as everything that had happened before.

I left for a new and warmer place, new adventures, new faces, a new school, ready to do it all over again. Except this time I was a bit more prepared. I kept memories, moments, smiles, laughter and much much experience. 

Youth is never wasted on the young.