We stand there on the cement stage of the schoolyard, and as I gaze out across the sea of Chinese children, neatly ordered in rows, I forget to feel awkward about being a spectator on stage, and instead am delighted by the precious smiling faces peeking out from under a variety of ethnic costumes and western garb as they go through their morning exercise routine. By Chinese standards, this is no ordinary exercise regimen, nor indeed an ordinary school. Jin Xing Primary School is a government project of sorts – a school that prioritizes ethnic minorities both in the student body and the curriculum. Thus some students wear costumes from their cultural heritage, and we are treated to a medley of ethnic dances, ranging from Mongolian to Naxi, on this cold, cloudy day in a cement schoolyard in Kunming.
After the students finish, we make our way back to the building to finish our guided tour of the facilities, but I find myself picked off from the herd of white people by 40 or 50 of the most adorable little jackals one could imagine. They grin, laugh, wave, shout, and mob me both verbally – practicing their battery of canned English phrases, including “How are you?” and “I love you!” – and physically, demanding in the most gleeful of ways that I take their photograph. Again. And again. And again.
How could I not love China on a morning like this?
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