I just had one of my favorite classes ever: instead of writing boring business English-y things for our last day, we got a little creative. We started off with a group story-writing activity, where everyone started writing a story beginning with “It was a dark and stormy night.” Then, after four minutes, we passed our masterpieces down the row, and the next student continued it.
My story began with a nuclear apocalypse and ended with cannibalism. Of course.
In another story, a man had the power to make people’s clothes fly away in a gust of wind. He made one woman’s clothes vanish, and then… DUH DUH DUHHHH… her husband showed up! In a phenomenal twist, the man made his clothes disappear as well, and they all disappeared into the sunset holding hands.
Next, we did our very best writing limericks. Surprisingly, none of my students could really count syllables very well, but they had some solid poems. My favorite was one that praised how wonderful of a teacher I am and ended with “So please let us go to lunch now.” How could I say no to that?
I also created some works of poetic art, describing my last days in China.
My last days are all complication,
Which overwhelm me with vexation.
Too much shit to do,
I don’t have a clue
How to handle this trepidation.
Noodles, barbecue, fish smelly meats,
Donkey, pig noses, and chicken feets.
I love this city
Oh, what a pity
That I will leave behind all these treats!