When I asked my father for his approval to go to the Philippines to teach, I was in two minds about it myself: "The pay won't be much, and the life could be rough, but . . . but I want to go there anyway to give it a try."

"Since you want to go, then go!"

My father's strong positive reaction, positive beyond my expectations, was a big encouragement to me at once. I'd been worried at first that I wasn't trained as a teacher--my field is commercial design--but after giving it more thought I figured I ought to be good enough to teach at a school for overseas Chinese. And I'd spoken with some people who had come back from teaching in the Philippines, and they'd said, "If you want to go, you'll do fine!"

With that, I was off.

The earliest Chinese language school in the Philippines was established in 1899. The golden age of overseas Chinese schools in the Philippines was the ten years after liberation in 1946. During that time, statistics show, the country had some 165 Chinese schools, with nearly 60,000 students and more than 2,000 teachers.

But in 1967 the Philippine government began to promote the comprehensive Philippinization of the nation's educational system. Students were permitted to receive no more than two hours a day of instruction in Chinese, and from this time on Chinese became a minor or secondary subject.

The effect has been that a number of financially strapped schools have shut down one after the other, and many teachers, in view of the schools' clouded future, have gone into other fields.

That's the situation I found myself in after crossing the waters to preach by teaching.

St. Jude Catholic School started out in 1963 with just a kindergarten and a first grade, but it now has a kindergarten, an elementary school, and a middle school. It's grown from nine teachers and 192 students back then to 198 teachers and more than 3,300 students now.

Most of the students are overseas Chinese, but there are also a few native Filipinos. The school is coeducational, and Catholics get preference in admission.

Overseas Chinese here attach great importance to education. Our school's close to the presidential building, in an area with a lot of demonstrations and it's sometimes pretty chaotic. Ordinary vehicles are restricted from entering, so the kids go in and out on school buses or their parents apply for special passes to get them to school. They take the extra trouble to make sure their children get a good Chinese education.

Many Chinese teachers are Filipinos of Chinese ancestry. The rest come from the mainland, Hong Kong, and Taiwan.

I was assigned to teach first-and fourth-year classes in middle school. The teaching materials are similar to the ones used in junior middle schools on Taiwan, but have been drawn up in the Philippines.

Most subjects are taught in English, so Chinese is like a foreign language for many students. Some of them speak Mandarin Chinese at home, but the ones who speak Fukienese or Tagalog at home have a hard time: in class they're often like "ducks listening to thunder," as the saying goes.

I try to use Chinese as much as possible when teaching, but if I can't get through at all, English usually does the trick. So when I prepare the next lesson, I have to keep poring through a Chinese-English dictionary. I was never so studious back in school!

Besides the language environment, lack of motivation is another reason many students speak poor Chinese. Some of them feel that Chinese is just another foreign language, with no relation to practical concerns (it's not part of their advanced study exams), so they're not very serious about studying. It often gives the teachers a feeling of helplessness.

The ideal, of course, would be equal fluency in all three: Chinese, English, and Tagalog. But I'd be content if they'd just continue studying Chinese without giving up on it.

The students pay much attention to how I feel. If I look down or upset when I come in the classroom, they'll tell jokes or make faces to make me laugh, and some of the girls may wish me sheng-jih k'uai-le (happy birthday) even though it's not my birthday. On holidays they may ask me if I have any special plans or invite me to their homes to celebrate. It's all very thoughtful.

The problem that I was worried about most--adjusting to daily life--turned out not to be so bad as I had imagined. The father in charge of the school arranged housing for me, and there are people to look after me, so I don't have to wash clothes, cook, or do housework. A worker accompanies me when I go out, so I don't feel unsafe on the streets, and, all in all, my spirits are pretty good.

I've been working here for almost a year now, and already a number of Chinese language teachers have left. Although the school pays as much attention to Chinese education as it can under the limitations imposed on it, it's very hard for Chinese language teachers to be as effective as they might.

There's still more than a year left to the end of my contract. Will I stay on after that and continue to teach? Or go back to Taiwan for more training and then teach some more? Or what? That's my biggest puzzle at present.

[Picture Caption]

"Each team try to find the characters with a grass or heart radical." Theresa Chang finds that games are highly effective in teaching students to recognize Chinese characters.

A St. Jude schoolbus, displaying "restricted area access" stickers, bears a heavy responsibility: taking the children to and from school.

With some of her students as big and tall as these, Miss Chang can hardly help using the carrot instead of the stick.

These are some of the teaching materials used in elementary and middle schools in the Philippines.

A classroom decoration contest before Christmas had the students racking their brains to be number one.

Miss Chang and a colleague. The badges on their collars show that they come from the same school.

The younger generation of overseas Chinese has a hard time understanding the feelings of uprootedness described by older writers.

Dogs are the best companions for someone living in a foreign land.

When alone, Miss Chang often thinks about what path she should take in the future.

"Chinese is tough!" You can get an inkling or two by looking at this girl's concentrated expression.

Because of rapid growth and limited space, St. Jude School has had to set up the basketball court under the main building. But the students have fun just the same.

Each team try to find the characters with a grass or heart radical." Theresa Chang finds that games are highly effective in teaching students to recognize Chinese characters.

A St. Jude schoolbus, displaying "restricted area access" stickers, bears a heavy responsibility: taking the children to and from school.

With some of her students as big and tall as these, Miss Chang can hardly help using the carrot instead of the stick.

These are some of the teaching materials used in elementary and middle schools in the Philippines.

A classroom decoration contest before Christmas had the students racking their brains to be number one.

Dogs are the best companions for someone living in a foreign land.

Miss Chang and a colleague. The badges on their collars show that they come from the same school.

The younger generation of overseas Chinese has a hard time understanding the feelings of uprootedness described by older writers.

When alone, Miss Chang often thinks about what path she should take in the future.

"Chinese is tough!" You can get an inkling or two by looking at this girl's concentrated expression.

Because of rapid growth and limited space, St. Jude School has had to set up the basketball court under the main building. But the students have fun just the same.