Magical

MAGICAL
 (She hates this picture)

At lunchtime during "English Corner" older students visit me on benches under a vine covered pergola for an ad hoc half hour of conversational English. The kids are surprisingly clever, especially a whip smart fifth grader named Magical, a tall tomboy with an impish smile and wise eyes. 

A word about Chinese kids' English names. Some are assigned by foreign teachers but most are chosen by the students themselves. There's Cinderella, Barbie, Tiger, Yoyo, Shiney, Happy and Ice Cream. There are a number of Cherries, Apples and Sunnies. There's a heavy set trouble maker named Tank. Every class has a Bingo. One tiny first grade girl with pink glasses calls herself Bob. Then there are Emaily and, my favorite, Oven.

On the first day of English Corner, I ask about a typical Saturday or Sunday. Most say they study, practice musical instruments, play badminton with a parent or grandparent. One or two play computer games. But then I meet Magical, and she very securely announces that on Sundays she works on her book. "I'm writing a book about (what else?) magic," she says. I ask if she's read Harry Potter. She says, yes, she's read all the Harry Potter books but her book is different. I tell her I'm writing a book too and her eyes light up. After the group disbands, I am walking back to my office, Magical appears at my side and gives me a small pink notebook covered in fabric and bound with twine tied in a small bow. "This is for you," she says. Still reeling in bewilderment at China and faking the whole teacher thing, I'm uncertain how to respond. "Are you sure?" I ask.  "Yes, I bought it with my own money," she says. "I like to buy presents for my friends."

Each week, I continue to be amazed by Magical's sophistication. 

She's precociously chatty and describes things being delicious (her mother's blueberry tea) and discusses IMAX theaters in Shanghai.  She bought a "money box" which she describes in detail. I explain it is a bank and she finds that fascinating. "Like the Bank of China!" she says with a triumph of understanding. She plays Cat's Cradle.

On the day after the class picnic Magical describes in great detail a "science" movie she's seen (I'm pretty sure she means science fiction) about grass and trees that eat people. It sounds scary, I say. "No it was very interesting," she corrects.
After Qingming holiday, I nearly fall over. She's gone to New Star Korean Bath House for the saunas. Ironically in this huge metropolis of Shanghai, it's the one spa I've been to - just a week earlier. We proceed to compare notes on the pools, treatments and the restaurant, which I had thought of trying for bibimbap but didn't have time. "It's not very delicious," she warns.

There are a ton of kids here who inspire and amuse.
Then there's Magical.