Golden Years in São Paulo: My Days Teaching Chinese in Brazil

By Chen Wenwen – Lecturer at Beijing Chinese Academy

Years later, when I look back on the day I decided to go to Brazil, it still feels like a dream. At the time, I knew almost nothing about the country—my only association with Brazil was one word: football. Soon, I discovered it is the largest country in South America, covering 8.5 million square kilometers, home to more than 70 immigrant groups, and the only nation in Latin America where Portuguese is the official language.

In 2014, I boarded a plane in Beijing as a teacher dispatched by the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office of the State Council, bound for São Paulo, the largest city in Brazil. As the plane crossed the Atlantic, I marveled at how magical the world was—flying 13,188 kilometers to the second-farthest country from China. What awaited me was a year of teaching, exploring, and bridging cultures in the Southern Hemisphere.

A Church School That Felt Like Hogwarts

After 26 hours of travel, I landed in São Paulo. Exhausted but excited, I was picked up by Father Xiao, the principal of the Chinese school I would be working at. I had imagined a priest in long black robes, but he turned out to be a cheerful man in a T-shirt driving a Chevrolet—his family originally from Hebei, China.

The school, São Paulo Chinese Catholic School, has nearly 60 years of history and was recognized as one of the first overseas Chinese education demonstration schools. On weekends, I taught there, while on weekdays I taught at Colégio de São Bento, a school within a historic Benedictine monastery over 100 years old. With its solemn chapels, black-robed priests, and ancient library, it felt like stepping into Harry Potter’s Hogwarts.

The school had Brazil’s largest Chinese library and even several elderly Chinese priests, including Father He, 85 years old, who was among the school’s founders. Every weekend, overseas Chinese families and even local Brazilians came to study Chinese. Parents used the time for church gatherings, and afterward, everyone shared meals together in the cafeteria—a warm and communal atmosphere.

Unexpected Challenges: Math, English, and Language Barriers

Not long after arriving, Father Xiao and Principal Wu asked me:

"Teacher Chen, can you also teach math? Or maybe English?"

I was stunned. Wasn’t I here to teach Chinese? Later, I learned that many overseas Chinese children study in Brazil temporarily but eventually return to China for university entrance exams. Their parents worried they would fall behind in math and English. Although I declined to teach those subjects, I did agree to teach Chinese language arts for primary students using textbooks from China.

But another challenge soon appeared—Portuguese. Unlike in many countries, English is not widely spoken in Brazil. Nine out of ten people I met would reply “No!” if I asked whether they spoke English. My Portuguese was limited to a few phrases I had learned from students before leaving China. For months, I struggled with daily communication, afraid even to go out. Fortunately, many of my students were from Chinese families and spoke Mandarin, which gave me some relief.

Teaching Brazilian Students: Energy and Freedom

If you ask me today what stands out most about Brazilian students, I’d say: they are full of life. Unlike the more formal classrooms in China, Brazilian classrooms are relaxed. Students call teachers by name, rearrange desks into circles, and are not shy about expressing themselves.

At first, I worried about discipline and progress. But soon I realized their carefree spirit was not laziness—it was a different approach to learning. They valued joy, interaction, and creativity over grades. Their optimism helped me let go of my own rigid expectations and reminded me that education is not just about test scores, but about cultivating curiosity and love for learning.

Finding My Teaching Rhythm

Teaching multiple grades at the same time was overwhelming. In one class, I could have 8-year-olds and 13-year-olds learning the same material. Their levels and interests varied widely. To cope, I developed a step-by-step teaching process:

1. Characters (writing & recognition)
2. Vocabulary (word formation, synonyms)
3. Sentences (sentence-making, usage)
4. Texts (reading and explanation)
5. Exercises (practice)
6. Homework (dictation, memorization)
7. Review & Tests

I also made lessons interactive: using iPads for character games, group competitions for idioms, storytelling assignments, and even coloring activities when teaching classical Chinese poetry like Li Bai’s Viewing Tianmen Mountain. Slowly, students became more engaged, and I moved from the “culture shock” stage to the “sweet spot” of teaching.

Teaching Chinese the Slow Way

Life in Brazil is famously slow—bank lines, supermarket checkouts, even conversations move at their own pace. At first, I was impatient, but later I grew to appreciate this rhythm.

The same applied to teaching. Progress had to be much slower than in China. A single semester could cover only Pinyin. Pronunciation was particularly tricky:

• Confusions: b/p, d/t, g/k often mispronounced
• h often dropped (hūn → wēn)
• r sounded like Portuguese rolled r
• Tones were the hardest, especially third tone

I used flashcards, matching games, and pronunciation drills to help. Writing characters was another challenge—many students treated it like drawing. Patience was key.

Football Fever in the Classroom

I was in Brazil during the 2014 FIFA World Cup—a once-in-a-lifetime experience. During matches, the entire country paused. Businesses closed, streets emptied, and fireworks exploded whenever Brazil scored.

In class, students would ask: “Teacher, which team do you support?” Knowing how passionate they were, I joined in the fun. I even collected player stickers with them, used cards as rewards, and designed games where students acted out teams and players. Football became not just a sport, but also a bridge for language learning.

Reflections

Teaching in São Paulo was not easy—between language barriers, cultural differences, and limited resources, I faced many moments of doubt. But over time, I grew deeply attached to my students and their families.

I will never forget the 75-year-old grandmother who drove her old Beetle to class every week, trembling as she wrote Chinese characters. Or the middle-aged woman who attended class with her leg in a cast after a motorcycle accident. Their determination touched me deeply.

Over 200 years of Chinese immigration and more than 60 years of Chinese education in Brazil have created a strong foundation. As a Chinese teacher abroad, I felt proud to be part of this story—to nurture the seeds of Chinese language and culture on the other side of the world.

No matter the age, background, or language, every student learning Chinese is like a flower blooming under the sun. I am grateful that São Paulo gave me this unforgettable chapter of my “golden years.”