“Xiangjiao (香蕉)! Banana!” says Fu Huijuan, beaming as she waves the fruit in front of her three-year-old pupil, Leon, at a Madrid nursery school.
He and his four classmates have barely learned to speak even in their native Spanish, but already they are absorbing Mandarin Chinese — as are many adult Spaniards concerned for their job prospects.
“Xiangjiao,” Leon replies in a tiny voice, grinning as he is rewarded with a bite of banana and a sticker. “Xiexie (謝謝). Thank you.”
Photo: AFP
Fu’s class — offered free for the first month — is the newest after-hours activity for children at the TEO private nursery, whose parents hope it will pay off later in life.
Numerous schools and language centers here have started holding such lessons as Spaniards look to China’s fast-growing economy for opportunities after five years of on-off recession in Spain.
“Chinese seems to me an essential language in today’s world, and the best way to learn it is from an early age. Learning it as an adult seems much more difficult,” says Leon’s mother, Sara Vergara.
Job prospects
“It is a long-term strategy, for his job prospects in the future,” adds Vergara, a 33-year-old housewife, arriving to pick Leon up from the class. “And I think he is enjoying himself.”
Pilar Alvarez, director of TEO, said the nursery launched the after-hours Chinese lessons after seeing that many other schools in Madrid were doing so.
“After the second or third class, the kids start really getting into it,” she says. “We are considering introducing it bit by bit for all the children during normal school time.”
Regional governments in Spain are also expanding Chinese courses in their subsidized language centers, while some public schools are offering them as an after-school activity.
A program of free classes jointly funded by the Andalucia government and the Chinese state has seen enrolments nearly double since it started two years ago, to 1,200 for this school year, the regional education ministry says.
It estimates that 30,000 people are currently studying Chinese as a foreign language in Spain. No such figure was available from the national education ministry.
“China is expected to be the leading world power in a few decades,” the Andalucia ministry said in a statement. “This is driving a boom in the number of people studying its language and culture.”
Madrid’s network of official language schools has taught Chinese since the 1960s but demand has surged recently, said Maria Jose Garcia-Patron, head of secondary education and professional training in the regional education ministry.
“Demand for these lessons was stable for 40 years, with about 80 or 90 students enrolled, but over the past 10 years the number has grown markedly and has reached about 300,” she told AFP in an e-mail.
The recent crop of students in Chinese seem undeterred by its alien systems of intonation and writing that many see as challenging for Western learners.
“It is a bit hard to write, but I think it is easy to teach children to talk,” said Fu. “Children have good memories.”
Fu, 25, came to Spain six months ago and applied for the teaching job with Bambu Idiomas, a private company that organizes classes for schools and individuals of all ages.
“There are lots of opportunities in Spain. Lots of families are looking for Chinese teachers, and now lots of nurseries too,” she said.
Set up in 2011, the family-run company had 87 pupils signed up last year. This year the number surged to 235, said one of its Spanish founders, Ruben Camarero.
“It is an important language for the future,” he said. “We decided it was a language that would interest people because Spain is in an enormous economic crisis and China is drawing a lot of interest worldwide.”
In the classroom, Fu plays from her laptop the nursery rhyme known in Europe as “Frere Jacques”, sung in Mandarin in a version well-known to Chinese children.
As she repeats the names of fruit to the five toddlers, correcting their intonation, four-year-old Angela jumps around excitedly, her long brown hair whirling.
“Banana!” she yells. “Xiangjiao!”
June 2 to June 8 Taiwan’s woodcutters believe that if they see even one speck of red in their cooked rice, no matter how small, an accident is going to happen. Peng Chin-tian (彭錦田) swears that this has proven to be true at every stop during his decades-long career in the logging industry. Along with mining, timber harvesting was once considered the most dangerous profession in Taiwan. Not only were mishaps common during all stages of processing, it was difficult to transport the injured to get medical treatment. Many died during the arduous journey. Peng recounts some of his accidents in
“Why does Taiwan identity decline?”a group of researchers lead by University of Nevada political scientist Austin Wang (王宏恩) asked in a recent paper. After all, it is not difficult to explain the rise in Taiwanese identity after the early 1990s. But no model predicted its decline during the 2016-2018 period, they say. After testing various alternative explanations, Wang et al argue that the fall-off in Taiwanese identity during that period is related to voter hedging based on the performance of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). Since the DPP is perceived as the guardian of Taiwan identity, when it performs well,
The Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) on May 18 held a rally in Taichung to mark the anniversary of President William Lai’s (賴清德) inauguration on May 20. The title of the rally could be loosely translated to “May 18 recall fraudulent goods” (518退貨ㄌㄨㄚˋ!). Unlike in English, where the terms are the same, “recall” (退貨) in this context refers to product recalls due to damaged, defective or fraudulent merchandise, not the political recalls (罷免) currently dominating the headlines. I attended the rally to determine if the impression was correct that the TPP under party Chairman Huang Kuo-Chang (黃國昌) had little of a
At Computex 2025, Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang (黃仁勳) urged the government to subsidize AI. “All schools in Taiwan must integrate AI into their curricula,” he declared. A few months earlier, he said, “If I were a student today, I’d immediately start using tools like ChatGPT, Gemini Pro and Grok to learn, write and accelerate my thinking.” Huang sees the AI-bullet train leaving the station. And as one of its drivers, he’s worried about youth not getting on board — bad for their careers, and bad for his workforce. As a semiconductor supply-chain powerhouse and AI hub wannabe, Taiwan is seeing