But this–my third year of teaching in China spread across three different cities–has taught me how to make some extra yuan and have some unexpected fun while teaching English.

My biggest hurdle to maneuvering while moonlighting was knowing what to avoid. Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. Don’t underestimate relationships.

Guanxi, or relationships–all-important in Chinese culture–held the key to every extra job I got. One Chinese friend laughed, “Westerners end with a contract. We start with a contract, then throw it away.”

A Chinese co-teacher who needed my help editing her Master’s thesis didn’t have time to teach kids in downtown Xian. (My editing was a freebie, but she took me biking around Xian’s ancient wall and her boyfriend accessed some English movies, both priceless gifts.)

She took me to Perfect English School’s owner, and I soon had an interesting weekend job for a semester. They paid me well and lavished me with roses!

In 2006, I biked past an attractive kindergarten gate as the headmistress walked out. We exchanged cards and began e-mailing. As we corresponded, she began adding, “Your friend” and “Miss you.” Two years later, she asked me to tutor her bright daughter.

I agreed out of friendship, not sure she would pay me beyond an occasional, customary Chinese dinner out. To my surprise, she paid monthly and became my highest-paying client.

Photo by peiqianlong

2. Don’t reject surprises.

On the commute to my first day at university, I met a fellow teacher who insisted I teach for her. I told her I should ask my English department; she said, “Shhh” and “It will be OK.” I later learned that she was moonlighting at my school three mornings a week, though she was the head of English in her school.

I visited her university class, was immediately introduced as their laoshi, and was handed a tourism text. I thought, “Oh well…” and launched into a pronunciation lesson.

Over two semesters, the classroom monitor, a stellar student and wonderful helper, facilitated great PowerPoint presentations that prepared me for travel to Guilin, Dali, the Great Wall, Harbin, Hainan and the Terra Cotta Warriors, and the Yangtze River.

3. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

My boss, head of a college foreign language office, charged me with a challenging assignment: a professional woman representing a Third World health organization needed help writing and speaking. I confronted him, “What about my contract that says I will not work outside the college?”

He answered softly, “It is a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. You may negotiate your own fee with her.”

We not only spruced up her presentations for India and Mexico; she introduced me to dog meat hot pot, an experience I wouldn’t have entrusted to many Chinese friends.

Photo by A. www.viajar24h.com

4. Don’t make quick judgments.

A French neighbor and his Chinese wife invited me for an evening’s chat. I met Tom, who wanted to study English before going to an Australian university. He “knew 3,000 English words, but couldn’t use them” and thought my tutorial price too high.

We talked as he walked me home. I learned that he didn’t own a car (unusual for a governmental official), was quite concerned about the environment, and seemed genuinely sorry he couldn’t afford tutoring.

Six phone calls and three meetings later, he brought several friends who studied two hours daily in my home for three weeks. We met early afternoons, during the time when most of China sleeps.

They paid me “whether they came or not, because a promise is a promise,” something I hadn’t often experienced while tutoring in the United States. I found them as excited as small children about a Christmas gift exchange, our sole half-hour departure from debates and formal writing exercises.

Staying open to surprises, cultivating relationships, and keeping mum when tempted to make quick judgments added a new dimension to my experiences teaching English in China. I learned to state flexible limits clearly up front, value friendship over business negotiations, and expect the unexpected.

Photo by bfick

A Few More Moonlighting Tips for Expat Teachers and Tutors Working in China

• You represent your country as well as all foreigners in the eyes of the Chinese. Plan lessons well. Take cues from what students want to learn, review often, and respond promptly. Tie a practical, doable assignment to each lesson, and check at the next meeting to acknowledge how it was done.
• Decide on a price-per-hour comfortable for you. Also, decide how flexible you will be in negotiations ahead of time. Ask the going rate in your city and be realistic, basing your fee on your educational level and teaching skills. Chinese usually pay only for face-to-face hours, not for travel or preparation time.
• If you must cancel, do so well in advance and get feedback about the new meeting time and place to avoid misunderstandings.
• Avoid over-extending yourself by spacing between tutoring or moonlighting classes and your contract job. If word gets around that you are a great teacher, you may have to turn down some jobs for health and sanity’s sake!
• Above all, have fun and celebrate your students’ successes.

COMMUNITY CONNECTION

Want to try a little language-learning role reversal? Give How to Learn Chinese: Student Versus Teacher a read, and for more on the TESL experience, check out the 8 Hidden Benefits of Teaching English Abroad.

I retired to a Montana cabin in 2004, wondering if I’d find contentment blogging from my deck between travels. China topped my to-tour list.

Then, opportunity e-mailed: A recruiter needed English teachers in historic Xian.

After months of questioning and waiting, I found myself in a city of six million, a few hours from the Terra Cotta Warriors, facing university sophomores.

Adjustment wasn’t always easy. I could have benefited from employment guides like Teach Abroad China.

Hindsight allows me to share these tips with you:

Shed Your Worries

I fretted about mastering the language, but learned the words for thank you, hello, and bye. I couldn’t master tones and visual characters. Free Chinese lessons, offered with every contract, never materialized. I recorded pinyin (phonetic spelling) on a handy cheat sheet.

My fears about not speaking Chinese dissolved; anyone with a college degree was a “foreign language expert.” I moved from adjustment to acceptance, often feeling strange.

Language wasn’t my only worry upon arriving.

I’d practiced yoga squats before arriving, knowing only hotels boasted sit-down toilets and toilet paper. No worries! Tissues were cheap, and W.C. experiences became comfortable.

Some milk of magnesia before meals helped tummy transitions to spicy foods. I avoided street food, bought sealed bottled water, took vitamins and calcium.

I biked, walked China’s graceful parks (lovely, safe), joined sunrise Tai Chi (free, everywhere), and ran for buses (one yuan, anywhere). Fresh produce, fruits, rice, and noodles unexpectedly melted unwanted pounds.

Destinations

Community Connection to China

Drop Your Preconceptions

I learned to accept that set expectations would change.

I learned to look both ways and cross streets. I began taking aimless weekends, and biked on cobblestones around city walls.

I found out about my vacation time the day it began; however, serendipitously, travel tickets usually went on sale a day before departures.

I wore a mask during heavy pollution to follow Xian’s love affair with eleven dynasties. My favorites were the Shaanxi Historical Museum (teacher discounts) and Big Wild Goose Pagoda’s Fountain Show (free).

I accepted a last-minute weekend invitation to a mountain village, with four generations in one concrete room. My gifts (pens, postcards, stamps, stickers) were left quietly, Chinese-style, on a table. Delighted kids discovered them.

Why did the family disappear one at a time all day? The mystery was resolved at bedtime. They walked me to my hotel room, where each one had taken a luxurious shower!

Examine Your Attitudes

I further relaxed in 2007, teaching laid back Forestry College students in “Spring City,” Kunming City.

Foreigners had their own street, coffee, pizza,and English newspapers. I lapsed into speaking English, taking cabs, and eating Western food.

My students, annoyingly, arrived halfway through class. At break, they apologized for missing English for a “boring Party meeting, but it is necessary.”

I learned patience and dropped movie-based notions about political fervor.

I’d expected different standards of cleanliness, noise, quality, and promptness, but not the extremes I found.

The Chinese, meticulous about clothing, seldom noticed dirt elsewhere. They shouted into cellphones, bought another when something broke, and showed up hours early/late for appointments.

Understanding this lessened my judgments.

Watching my Chinese neighbors, I learned how attitudes were cultural two-sided coins.

Stepping over the ubiquitous trash, I realized that litter provided street sweepers with daily jobs. I set aside recyclables for rubbish collectors to sell. Tired of photographing bare-bottomed babies in split pants, I researched potty training. Toddlers left to play naturally took care of business by watering a bush, requiring no help.

I found out that grandparents, continually holding kids, whistled when babies urinate. Chinese doctors asked why Westerners don’t whistle to obtain samples during medical check ups. I considered America’s disposable diapers and psychology books.

Balancing yin and yang became more fun than one-sided superior attitudes.

Expand Your Boundaries

Occasionally, I retreated to my apartment to enjoy music, books traded among English readers, and my Western link. Mostly, I ate hot pot, learned mah jong, visited temples, and answered the same questions repeatedly at English Corners: “Where you from? You like China? The food?”

In 2008, I deepened a lifelong interest in children, trading college phrases for kindergarten enthusiasm.

I moved to Hainan Island’s “End of the Earth,” South China Sea. Chinese teachers biked with me to Sanya Beach, cooked vegetables from our school garden, and learned American songs and games.

In spite of wearing a moneybelt and my backpack in front on crowded buses, I was robbed in paradise. A bag was grabbed from my bike basket while I snapped pictures nearby. I found that some Chinese, while honest to the point of returning tips, simply helped themselves to anything left unattended.

Vigilance about valuables, creaky knees, and frayed nerves restored with noontime naps. My senses came alive. Hearing my name yelled across playground became my music.

Each stint in China imprinted rich memories: sunrises on mountaintops, open exchange among lasting friendships, the sparkling taste of hotpot. Well past China’s employable age, I was asked back to each job.

I’ve already forgotten any regrets, wondering about 2010’s horizon.

Community Connection

Interested in visiting the Middle Kingdom? Check out Matador’s 8 Places to Experience Unspoiled China. And if you think teaching English could be for you, take a browse through our Teaching Abroad archive.

All photos courtesy of author.