[Photo provided to China Daily]

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 from 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.

“I love English,” she told me, speaking the language proficiently.

Her ninth-grade 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.

I’d never considered the possibility of singing the international tune’s Chinese lyrics in English.

Their classmate, Chi Tianfu, wants to be a teacher — even a headmaster.

“School life is beautiful and interesting,” she explained.