They called me "grandpa". And they meant it. The preschoolers at the Huichang Zhulan Demonstration School had never seen anyone with light hair aside from the elderly.

I'm a blond 33-year-old. I'm getting there, but I have a few years and hairs to go. I hope.

I've been to many places where few, if any, foreigners tread - but this was a new one for me. Other scenes at the rural school in Jiangxi province's Huichang county reminded me of visiting similar classrooms elsewhere in the country.

Kids bent over balconies and peered through windows.

The more outgoing volunteered "hello!" and "how are you?", detonating explosions of giggles, as students slapped their hands over their grinning faces in staccato.

But one thing stood out among the kids compared with equivalent schools I've visited - their English abilities were on par with any urban student.

They could hold conversations far beyond simple greetings. Ninth-grader Chen Yan hopes to become a translator.

Her classmate, 16-year-old Lai Honghui, wants to be a cook. "I enjoy making food for my family," he said.

Ninth-grader Liu Qianyi, 16, wants to be an engineer or a singer. She asked me to sing a song to her class.

Partly to get a few chuckles, I crooned one of the few Chinese songs I know - Liang Zhi Laohu, a kids song set to Brother John but with a totally different plotline than the English and original French versions.

The Chinese lyrics aren't about a drowsy Christian monk but rather two cavorting tigers missing body parts.

It won laughs from the class.

But I ended up guffawing harder when Liu and her classmate retorted by serenading me with the same song - but translating the Chinese version into English impromptu. I'd never considered the possibility of singing the international tune's Chinese lyrics in English.

The teachers at the school, which pilots a composite of basic and vocational education, agree life on campus has become better over time.

English instructor Huang Xiaoyun, who has taught in the countryside for 15 years, said it was her childhood dream to become a rural teacher like her father.

She realized this ambition, but was initially disappointed upon arriving at Zhulan. "I found dilapidated buildings and poorly equipped classrooms," she recalled. "But I noticed all the students studied hard despite the deprivation. They showed strong will and studied happily. So I forgot my disenchantment."

Huang is delighted the campus has been upgraded over the past decade. "We have new teaching buildings, and modern classrooms and teachers' and students' dorms," she said.

English instructor Lai Guilan recalls sharing one room with three other teachers years ago. Teachers now have individual dorms, where they live on weeknights. They can also get monthly transportation and accommodation subsidies of 400-1,000 yuan ($62-154), on top of salaries that max out at 1,100 yuan a month.

Lai and her colleague, Luo Cuiyun, are qualified to work in urban schools.

"Many career opportunities presented themselves after I graduated from university, but I chose the countryside," Luo said. "It's poor and backward compared to the cities. But, if you're diligent, you earn more opportunities."

(China Daily 06/20/2016 page7)