Curiosity Terrified the Teacher

So I was curious, as most people are, about large gatherings of people. Mistake number one. I was also curious, as English speakers might be, about why they were yelling English. Mistake number two. I was also curious if I could manage to stay behind everyone and pretend to be a Chinese student without being noticed. Mistake number three. It took maybe a minute for someone to come around, pass me a flyer and then gawk at my face as I tried to avert my eyes. (You know the normal if I can’t see them, they can’t see me approach.) In a moment, 3 people jumped by my side and asked if I was a foreign teacher, while a circle of students pulled out of the mob and surrounded me. I knew I was done for. Question after question came out of the students (and one student in particular who seemed more interested in practicing speaking than practicing listening.) And I awkwardly answered one after the other with a word or two. At one point the young man who was doing most of the talking (a very gutsy, and skilled freshman) asked me if I had some words of advice to give everyone, and I semi-unconsciously said “wo mei zhunbei hao le” (I haven’t prepared well.) And everyone laughed. That lightened things a little.
It is just terrifying when you are suddenly in the midst of the kind of people who idealize you. (And by idealize you I mean they idealize English-speaking foreigners, and you are one of them.) You are the holder of this thing they are trying to attain. It’s terrifying. You have all these eyes on you and ears listening to every word you say like it may be the gospel. I felt like I wanted to shrink into myself. “Surely you have taught many people...” the young man was saying. Did he even know that I was only a few years older than him? That I had just graduated from university? That I had only been here three weeks? Well, that he knew, because I had just told him, but that didn’t seem to register. I was sure I must have looked terrified. But one of the young women was nice enough to tell me that I was very charming, that I had a very charming smile. Oh that’s good. At least I look like a nice person even if I had only been able to get out the total of two sentences worth of words.
A couple of my Graduate students passed by, and I grabbed a desperate hello at their blessed familiar faces. They asked what I was doing. I wanted to know too, but instead I told them I had never seen such a group of people and came to see what was going on. They smiled and said they had been walking along and had also been interested by the groups, they had never seen it before either. They told me it looked like I was quite the interest here (well, that in simpler words), and all I could do was nod helplessly. They took their leave politely and with smiles. I wished it was so easy for me.
Soon enough I realized that it actually was that easy for me too. I apologized to the circle of stares and told them I had to go because I had class tomorrow morning. They smiled and nodded enthusiastically, yes of course. All I had to give them was my name, a brief excuse that I had just gotten here as reason why I couldn’t give them my address, and smile politely and leave. It was just as simple a trap to get out of as to get in.
Classrooms are fine for staring at the teacher. That I'm used to. In everyday life, groups of people you've never met watching your every movement can be quite intimidating. I cannot tell you how relieved I felt to slide into the shadows again.