NSLI-Y

Musings from computer class

Currently sitting in computer class. Here at Beijing 80, we’ve been “learning” Scratch (yes, Kai, the same computer language you learned as an 8-year-old), but it’s mostly consisted of most of the class making hilarious memes (Leila and Alec often have the best ones) and a handful of the students actually following along (oh Joel, you lawful good egg, you). Charlie already has a number of computer languages under his belt (he’s been deemed the go-to computer guy), and so I’m pretty sure he spends this period learning Chinese basics. Logan, in classic 大班长 fashion, is busy writing the 写作 homework for a class that he’s not even taking. Bethany is composing yet another song with individual note blocks on Scratch, Tyler is behind me listening to creepy background music to add to his game.

I’ve found that the most frustrating thing so far here in Beijing has been accessing the internet in any aspect. We (still) don’t have SIM cards, even though we’re 20 days in (shoutout to Joel for the counting up, not down trick). My posts on here are hastily thrown together, usually sentences are sneakily typed on an iPhone note between classes and frantically posted in the 30 minute period between 晚自习 and the firm lights-out at 10:10 (lights and power go out on the dot). Posting on Instagram, accessing my email, and even logging onto the Common App have become arduous tasks—yet, on the other hand, every time I access the internet I do so with intention, because I know my time is limited. No more mindless browsing through Instagram—now, I log on because I need to answer a message or post something to our shared Beijing Instagram account (shameless plug: go follow our group Instagram account at @backtothebeijing).

The teacher is calling us to turn in our work from this class period. I think I’ll hand in last week’s half-assed alien-catches-the-stars Scratch game. Or this half-assed rant birthed out of sheer boredom.

Maybe the mundanity of school life is finally hitting. Maybe that’s a good thing.

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