The Way We Were: Part II

My teammate and I taught two classes together. Leo has told me that he wanted to be the lowest student in the advanced class because he would be able to learn from all the other students. I don't think he was the lowest, but at the beginning of the semester, he was probably close to it. By the end of the semester, he had the top grades, and even if his spoken English was still not the best, he was by far the most improved. Why? Because he got a LOT of extra time with the teacher.

It started out innocently enough. We planned activities with the students, watching videos together, playing volleyball, going out on excursions to parks. Sometimes students would come over to our apartments to visit. Leo and Oliver, his friend and coworker, came for the first time on probably the second day of class. I knew they were both going to be fun because they didn't treat us the way most of our other students did, which is, come over to "practice" their English. Sure, part of our job was to be available for this purpose. But after the 25th conversation that consists of "Where are you from?", "How old are you?", and "How much money do you make?" (no, I'm not kidding, that's perfectly appropriate in Chinese culture), it starts to get old. Leo and Oliver really wanted to get to know us. No, Leo was NOT hitting on us...though Oliver may have been. Leo has told me many times that the way Oliver convinced him to take the class was by telling him about the "beautiful American teachers" they would have. Even so, I knew even then that at very least, I was going to have two good friends to keep in touch with after the semester was over.

I don't really know when or how the romantic attraction started. I started going over to visit Leo and Oliver in their dorm, but that's not really where it started. Leo swears I made the first move. I think he did. Nonetheless, by the end of April, when we were traveling to Changsha with some other students over the International Labor Day holiday, it was clear that something...SOMETHING...was happening between us.

I was terrified, and shocked at myself. He was my STUDENT, for crying out loud! An adult, yes, even a couple of years older than me, but still. I don't really recommend this route. One is always worried that people will find out, and when I say people, I mean LOTS of people. No one knew. Not my teammate. Not Oliver. Not any of our other students. Certainly not the school administration (or so I thought). And absolutely NOT my organization, which had rules clearly forbidding dating locals the first year, let alone ever dating a student.

Further complicating things: I'm a Christian. He was not. My faith is very, very important to me. I had always believed I would marry a man who shared my faith, and did not think it would be healthy to seriously date someone I would not marry. But here it was. I loved him. Was I lonely? Maybe, but it was more than that. I had found someone that I could communicate with on a very deep level. I had gone the whole year without sharing with anyone very deeply, and while you could say that just shows I was lonely, I would counter with this: Our first language was not the same. His English was not great (though improving). My Chinese was still far poorer than his English. And yet, we managed to connect on a heart level. Something about that told me we were meant to be together.