I arrived at school a bit frantic this morning. I had a full morning schedule, but I wasn’t fully prepared because I’d had to plan last night (stupid stupid volleyball tournament!) and I don’t have access to a printer or copier at home. Also, I just refuse to go to that much trouble outside of working hours. So there I was, slaving over the copier, trying to find a way into my locked room (I’d left the keys inside the day before as I was forcibly ushered out of the building to fulfill my role as a silent and cold volleyball spectator), making some tea, and gathering all my materials together, when the vice-principal practically attacked me. He was agitated and was desperately trying to tell me something using only the words “station” and “MNBC.” I was like, okay, now please get out of my way. My co-teacher eventually translated, informing me that—SURPRISE!—I’d have a news team in my class today!! And not only that, but my 3-2 class, the one that makes life not worth living…at least for 80 minutes weekly. Oh, joy. My co-teacher was kind enough to explain to me that everyone was curious about my teaching—local teachers, the school board, and now this news team, like that was supposed to make everything better. I’m not doing anything revolutionary, folks…I just happen to know English, so that’s what we use in the classroom. Though to think of it, I’m sure my teaching methods are radically different. I’ve only ever seen one class and that was long ago. I really don’t know what REAL Korean classrooms look like.
So now I was late, unprepared, and flustered. Luckily, my first two lessons (sixth grade) went well, and so did the first section of third grade. I was hitting things right on and I’d almost forgotten about the news crew when they came a’knockin at my door, midway through my 3-1 class, completely distracting them, of course. The 3-2 teacher came in, posed several insistent questions at me in Korean, and thinking he was trying to bring his horde of monsters in 20 minutes early (they do that sometimes, gd them), I could only think to write the time his class started on the board. I still don’t know what he was saying. Probably trying to tell me that the news crew was coming. I KNOW, they’re in my friggin’ room…if I’m ever clueless, it’s because my co-workers never tell me ANYTHING, not because I’m slow. I guess the kids had been coached by their teacher when the moment finally arrived, because they filed in silently and perfectly and sat motionless while I prepared for class. I wasn’t about to let them rush me…I need my recovery time between doses! And then, of course, the news crew stayed for about 30 seconds and rushed out. I later learned that while I was teaching, everyone else was at a birthday party eating cake. Assholes. But the behavior talk worked well enough—the kids were pretty good for a good 35 minutes—so I was happy. A little sick of chanting the numbers 0-20, but what can you do?
In the afternoon, I had to teach the teachers. Every Thursday I hope they will be too busy and not show up, but there’s been fairly regular attendance since our official start a month ago. Again, I’m not happy about it. I stole this travel lesson online, but I don’t think it went over that well. Perhaps it was too easy, but it’s so hard to judge with them…based on my personal interactions, I’d guess they know only 10 words of English among them! So there goes that brilliant plan of stealing the online book. Well, I can always hope I bombed so badly they’ll never come back…we ended class by looking at the pictures from my trip. They (Kyoung Hee Sam, specifically) asked me where I went and what I did, so I had the brilliant idea of showing them. Perhaps it wasn’t that educational, but it did interest them. Oh, and she found out that I’d never been to Jirisan National Park. From what I could gather, plans are in the works to take me. Yes yes yes yes. I love tour guides…sometimes. At least they’ll take good care of me.
And then there was tkd, which today was an exercise in frustration. We did forms today as a group, which I’m never good at because I get flustered and nervous. I’m slower than everyone else, so I get distracted by their movements. I like to think I’m just more precise, but the fact remains that these kids school me. Is there something about being Korean that makes for stronger memorization abilities, or is it a skill they learn at school? I always thought I had a good memory, but I don’t pick things up like these kids! Even in English class, some of them really amaze me. The ones who don’t know actively choose not to. When I check for understanding, everyone else seems to get it. Would it be the same in America? I have no clue. Anyway, so there I was, trying to remember these forms I knew without hesitation a couple weeks ago, and everyone’s distracting and embarrassing and infuriating me with their helpful hints. Yelling “Kick!” or whatever you just said in Korean is not helpful to me, oh young student of mine! I felt silly getting so sullen in friggin taekwondo, but I was. Life as celebrity sure is rough sometimes—the impromptu photo shoots, the constant attention, the expectations of nonstop performing (how many times have I said hi today, I wonder), the (insincere?) flattery…for someone who has always preferred fading away in the background, who actively avoids attention, who hates performing, it’s been an adjustment, to be sure. But the language and cultural barrier is such that no matter what I do, I am celebrated and the popularity is a nice side benefit. It’s like I get to relive my younger years again, only as the most popular girl in school, and I can’t say I don’t love at least that part of it!
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
CRAZY/spring--Wednesday, April 25
And I was right…my third-graders make me want to leave the continent. Every week starts pleasantly enough, with dutiful and obedient classes (for the most part), and just when I start to think that I do love teaching after all, the ten-year-olds charge in with a confidence that can only be demonic in origin, destroy my room and morale with a double-whammy hit, and leave me broken and despairing. I’m a shell of a woman, I swear. I’m thinking more and more that the behavior problems are just a stage. Third grade always seems to be the worst behaved, and then they settle down, more or less, by fourth grade. At least, this is the pep talk I give myself to excuse my inability to reach them. We’ve learned a couple words together this semester, at least, and they have managed to pick up “I’m hungry!” all by themselves. It’s a never-ending chant in the room nowadays.
Otherwise, it’s been a pretty good week back. That time away did rejuvenate me, far more than my other trip did. I’m nearly halfway through the semester now, all of the sudden, and I can see the end in sight already. I don’t feel as burnt out—though I am running low on original teaching ideas—and I am increasingly able to find joy in what I do on a professional level. I may be exasperated at times, but I still enjoy my students much more often. Perhaps I’m not as enthralled as I once was, but…sometimes it gets old saying hello to every single student multiple times per day!
Today I had lunch with my second grade students. They were being so crazy…my little bf, Joo Hee, told me how he ate a flower in the lunch line because he was sooo hungry. And then he started burping. Sometimes I forget how young these kids really are. I would be a lot less frustrated, I think, if I took the time to remember that they are only Jackson’s age. I expect too much at times, I suppose. The rest of the lunch conversation consisted of the kids pointing to each other and yelling, “CRAZY!” This is far and away the insult of choice in Korea. I think it must translate to something far more derogatory because it’s the cause of such unrestrained mirth. They were doing it again in taekwondo, too, but this time it was the middle-school students! I just shake my head, but by this time, they’ve typically forgotten that the original goal of speaking was to communicate with me and become too involved in trading insults. Sooo glad I’m not that age anymore.
This afternoon, I had to attend what I was told was an educational meeting but was really a lame volleyball tournament. I was none too happy about it, and I guess it showed—several of the teachers asked me if I was sick. No…I just have other things to do besides watch our team get schooled! I didn’t get a chance to plan anything for tomorrow, either, so I had to do that at home tonight. Boooooo. At least I got a ton of ddok out of the deal at the more-than-meal-sized “snack” we had afterwards.
It’s hard to be negative now that spring’s really here. It’s warm enough to go without a jacket again, the sun’s been out every day and doesn’t set until after seven, the fields are beginning to be plowed, the hills are turning green and flowers are sprouting everywhere…my heart is glad. I love to see everything alive again. Koreans are inexplicably so proud of the fact that there are four seasons here. I tell them we have four in America, too, but they don’t seem to hear me or don’t care. Perhaps they do have a point, though…I’ve never been in a place where the seasons are so evenly dispersed. California and South Africa really only had two seasons, to be fair—hot and dry and cool and rainy—and in Montana, winter encompasses half of the year (at least back when I lived there, five years ago) and the rest of the seasons are fairly short. I am growing to be a fan of Korean spring, now that we’re seemingly through the dreariness of March…if only there was something better than torrential downpours awaiting me in summer!
Otherwise, it’s been a pretty good week back. That time away did rejuvenate me, far more than my other trip did. I’m nearly halfway through the semester now, all of the sudden, and I can see the end in sight already. I don’t feel as burnt out—though I am running low on original teaching ideas—and I am increasingly able to find joy in what I do on a professional level. I may be exasperated at times, but I still enjoy my students much more often. Perhaps I’m not as enthralled as I once was, but…sometimes it gets old saying hello to every single student multiple times per day!
Today I had lunch with my second grade students. They were being so crazy…my little bf, Joo Hee, told me how he ate a flower in the lunch line because he was sooo hungry. And then he started burping. Sometimes I forget how young these kids really are. I would be a lot less frustrated, I think, if I took the time to remember that they are only Jackson’s age. I expect too much at times, I suppose. The rest of the lunch conversation consisted of the kids pointing to each other and yelling, “CRAZY!” This is far and away the insult of choice in Korea. I think it must translate to something far more derogatory because it’s the cause of such unrestrained mirth. They were doing it again in taekwondo, too, but this time it was the middle-school students! I just shake my head, but by this time, they’ve typically forgotten that the original goal of speaking was to communicate with me and become too involved in trading insults. Sooo glad I’m not that age anymore.
This afternoon, I had to attend what I was told was an educational meeting but was really a lame volleyball tournament. I was none too happy about it, and I guess it showed—several of the teachers asked me if I was sick. No…I just have other things to do besides watch our team get schooled! I didn’t get a chance to plan anything for tomorrow, either, so I had to do that at home tonight. Boooooo. At least I got a ton of ddok out of the deal at the more-than-meal-sized “snack” we had afterwards.
It’s hard to be negative now that spring’s really here. It’s warm enough to go without a jacket again, the sun’s been out every day and doesn’t set until after seven, the fields are beginning to be plowed, the hills are turning green and flowers are sprouting everywhere…my heart is glad. I love to see everything alive again. Koreans are inexplicably so proud of the fact that there are four seasons here. I tell them we have four in America, too, but they don’t seem to hear me or don’t care. Perhaps they do have a point, though…I’ve never been in a place where the seasons are so evenly dispersed. California and South Africa really only had two seasons, to be fair—hot and dry and cool and rainy—and in Montana, winter encompasses half of the year (at least back when I lived there, five years ago) and the rest of the seasons are fairly short. I am growing to be a fan of Korean spring, now that we’re seemingly through the dreariness of March…if only there was something better than torrential downpours awaiting me in summer!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Recovery--Monday, April 23
After a full week off, it’s time to ease back into the work routine. I felt really tired and overwhelmed once my dad left me on Saturday and I felt I’d never be ready to clock in again, but here I am, one day back in, and it’s like I never left. In a good way. Perhaps this trip was just the rejuvenation I needed. I feel accomplished in that I saw a good portion of Korea, including many items on my must-see list (yes, I compiled one a while back…I’ve become a supertourist lately). I also feel newly motivated. April’s almost over, so I really just have two months left of REAL teaching. The weather’s nice—at least, today was glorious—the kids are fun, I feel I finally have a grip on how to go about teaching kids (yeah…I’m slow….and I still have NO IDEA what to do with kindergarten!), and I have a good balance of work and personal time going on. Life is swell here. It’s one of those days in which I seriously consider renewing my teaching grant. Last weekend I drew up a list of positives and negatives and essentially it comes down to work—that is, if I think I’ll be able to stand teaching little rascals in a foreign language for another year. Today I am thinking yes, but this is probably just because it’s been so long since I’ve had to face my third graders. We’ll see how the rest of the week goes.
Yesterday I toured southern Seoul with Bianca. She came up for the day with her host family and joined me in my conquest of the areas south of the Han River. I have never spent time down there, except coming to and going from the bus station, but there were some interesting sights my guidebook listed in the area and I thought it would be a good day to explore.
We went to Amsa Prehistoric Settlement Site first. This area has many artifacts from the Neolithic area (~6000 years ago) and is reportedly the most important such site in Korea. It wasn’t too terribly interesting, but I did enjoy the dioramas, as usual, and there was a great photo setup where you could assume the form of a Neolithic (wo?)man by sticking your head through the hole. Authentic, to be sure. There were many problems with the exhibits just from that standpoint, but the area was beautiful and peaceful and I was amused, at least.
We also went to the Kimchi Field Museum in a huge Western-style mall complex. I was surprised at its location, for I associate Kimchi with the countryside, but it worked well enough, I guess. The best part here was seeing all the fake kimchi exhibits…I saw many varieties of kimchi I have tried, far outnumbered by the ones I have not and the ones I would not touch except on pain of death. Pheasant kimchi? No, thank you! It was interesting to see that the Korean red pepper is not indigenous, as I assumed, but came from Central America. Who would have predicted the Hermit Kingdom would adapt such a foreign substance into its cuisine?!?
To top off the day, we ventured to Seoul Norimandang for a free Korean traditional arts performance. We took in two exhilarating hours of drumming, dancing, and singing, topped off with a rockin samulnori performance. Eight men danced around stage, playing their drums, stepping in rhythm, and swinging long ribbons attached to their hats in perfect unison, sometimes combined with minor acrobatics as well. It was awesome. I love taking in these traditional arts things…I am such a culture fiend! But I am not alone in Korea…the people themselves are avid tourists of their own country and culture.
Today I did some samulnori of my own. I practiced some jangja for the first time in a month. What with being sick, the Jeju conference, and my dad’s visit, I haven’t been around on a Monday afternoon in four weeks and thus have not been able to attend samulnori. Today’s session was the most fruitful yet. While most of the students went outside to practice together (strangely, without real instruction, apparently…I’m not sure where our old male teacher went), I stayed in the gym with a few of my fourth- and fifth-grade students and they coached me through some beats and rhythms. I still hit well only sporadically and I am really slow, but I am picking up on a few of the rhythms they employ, finally. I learned much more today than I did in the other sessions combined, and it was only half as long! I left school at 4:30 feeling very accomplished…lessons planned for the next day, samulnori coming along, the sun shining in my face…
I took a run before taekwondo, right after I got home. It was painful and horrendous, especially since I seem to have wrenched my lower back out of place like a 95-year-old great-grandmother, but I did it and for that I am proud. Now I just need to keep it up…ugh. It’s so hard to run, especially when you’re as out of shape as I am and as creative with excuses as I can be. But it’s so necessary if I’m going to keep gorging myself on delish Korean food. In matters other than my physique, I am perfectly content. I may have a full schedule to fall back into and travel plans for every weekend in the upcoming future to tire me, but I am happy to be busy and taking in Korea as I should have been all along. If my adventures in Southeast Asia taught me anything, it’s how to travel, and now I am putting this into use. To sight-seeing, in the finest Korean fashion!
Yesterday I toured southern Seoul with Bianca. She came up for the day with her host family and joined me in my conquest of the areas south of the Han River. I have never spent time down there, except coming to and going from the bus station, but there were some interesting sights my guidebook listed in the area and I thought it would be a good day to explore.
We went to Amsa Prehistoric Settlement Site first. This area has many artifacts from the Neolithic area (~6000 years ago) and is reportedly the most important such site in Korea. It wasn’t too terribly interesting, but I did enjoy the dioramas, as usual, and there was a great photo setup where you could assume the form of a Neolithic (wo?)man by sticking your head through the hole. Authentic, to be sure. There were many problems with the exhibits just from that standpoint, but the area was beautiful and peaceful and I was amused, at least.
We also went to the Kimchi Field Museum in a huge Western-style mall complex. I was surprised at its location, for I associate Kimchi with the countryside, but it worked well enough, I guess. The best part here was seeing all the fake kimchi exhibits…I saw many varieties of kimchi I have tried, far outnumbered by the ones I have not and the ones I would not touch except on pain of death. Pheasant kimchi? No, thank you! It was interesting to see that the Korean red pepper is not indigenous, as I assumed, but came from Central America. Who would have predicted the Hermit Kingdom would adapt such a foreign substance into its cuisine?!?
To top off the day, we ventured to Seoul Norimandang for a free Korean traditional arts performance. We took in two exhilarating hours of drumming, dancing, and singing, topped off with a rockin samulnori performance. Eight men danced around stage, playing their drums, stepping in rhythm, and swinging long ribbons attached to their hats in perfect unison, sometimes combined with minor acrobatics as well. It was awesome. I love taking in these traditional arts things…I am such a culture fiend! But I am not alone in Korea…the people themselves are avid tourists of their own country and culture.
Today I did some samulnori of my own. I practiced some jangja for the first time in a month. What with being sick, the Jeju conference, and my dad’s visit, I haven’t been around on a Monday afternoon in four weeks and thus have not been able to attend samulnori. Today’s session was the most fruitful yet. While most of the students went outside to practice together (strangely, without real instruction, apparently…I’m not sure where our old male teacher went), I stayed in the gym with a few of my fourth- and fifth-grade students and they coached me through some beats and rhythms. I still hit well only sporadically and I am really slow, but I am picking up on a few of the rhythms they employ, finally. I learned much more today than I did in the other sessions combined, and it was only half as long! I left school at 4:30 feeling very accomplished…lessons planned for the next day, samulnori coming along, the sun shining in my face…
I took a run before taekwondo, right after I got home. It was painful and horrendous, especially since I seem to have wrenched my lower back out of place like a 95-year-old great-grandmother, but I did it and for that I am proud. Now I just need to keep it up…ugh. It’s so hard to run, especially when you’re as out of shape as I am and as creative with excuses as I can be. But it’s so necessary if I’m going to keep gorging myself on delish Korean food. In matters other than my physique, I am perfectly content. I may have a full schedule to fall back into and travel plans for every weekend in the upcoming future to tire me, but I am happy to be busy and taking in Korea as I should have been all along. If my adventures in Southeast Asia taught me anything, it’s how to travel, and now I am putting this into use. To sight-seeing, in the finest Korean fashion!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Hongsan Hospitality--Thursday, April 12
Day three of parental supervision. It’s been really nice having him at school with me, surprisingly. All the teachers have gone out of their way to be helpful and friendly and I suspect they have been planning certain events with him in mind—most notably, the extended field trip yesterday and volleyball for tomorrow. We NEVER play on Fridays, and this Friday, I can’t even play because I have class!! I really appreciate the entertainment help and the effort they have put into making sure he has a good time. Today they also took him to some sort of festival in Hongsan (which, again, I was unable to attend due to WORK) and fed him some pig and makkoli and Asian pear. I am sure most of this hospitality is just Korean second nature, but I can’t help feeling after last night’s discussion they have ulterior motives—namely, trying to get his support in convincing me to stay another year. Regardless, we are all enjoying ourselves and that’s more than I expected, so I am content enough with the state of affairs.
As a matter of fact, I am pretty happy in general. I don’t know if it was the weather change, the cessation of sinus pain, or my dad’s visit, but the stormy clouds of pessimism and despair have left this girl and life in Korea is rosy once more. I had faith this would happen, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon or so abruptly. Now I am entertaining thoughts once more of signing on for another year…we’ll see…I just hope I don’t crash again once Pops leaves me! I KNOW none of my third graders will survive it…..
As a matter of fact, I am pretty happy in general. I don’t know if it was the weather change, the cessation of sinus pain, or my dad’s visit, but the stormy clouds of pessimism and despair have left this girl and life in Korea is rosy once more. I had faith this would happen, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon or so abruptly. Now I am entertaining thoughts once more of signing on for another year…we’ll see…I just hope I don’t crash again once Pops leaves me! I KNOW none of my third graders will survive it…..
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Day Trippin'--Wednesday, April 11
Today was Day 2 of Take-your-dad-to-work week. Luckily he’s not a professional educational critic…just kidding. I think he’s in perfect agreement with me that my second- and third graders are satanic spawn and should be wiped out before they spread the disease of disrespect. Next thing you know, my kindergarteners are going to get mouthy and I can’t have that! Good thing my other three classes so far have behaved…I’ve fooled him into thinking I’m competent.
I’ve been introducing him at the beginning of each of my classes. They all know who he is by now, but they still have the predictable questions about age and height and sometimes job. The 3-2 class actually clapped and shouted “Good!” when he wrote his height on the board today…they are all so amazed he is so tall. Not a tough crowd in that respect.
I’ve been having computer issues at school and today I was afraid I’d broken my computer beyond repair. It was running soooooo slowly…I couldn’t even load my email all morning! But the miraculous first-grade teacher fixed it today at lunch, just as he did Dad’s wireless connection yesterday…he is so helpful. Perhaps one of these days I will stop being terrified of him.
This afternoon, we went on a big field trip to see the sights of the area. I have a sneaking suspicion it was arranged specifically for my Dad, because we’ve never done anything nearly this elaborate before. We will often do something on Wednesdays—we get the afternoon off—but it’s usually only volleyball. Once we raked leaves all afternoon. I think the only other Wednesdays we left was one time to a movie set nearby and one time to another elementary school turned museum, filled with educational relics from the last hundred years. And I don’t think we’ve ever gotten dinner together—it’s usually just a snack. Today, in contrast, we went three places and then out to a fancy dinner.
First we went to Naesan Elementary School to see some cherry blossoms at a festival there. It was pretty spectacular—I think cherry blossoms must finally be venturing north, because these looked to be in better shape than the ones I saw last weekend in Jinhae. When I heard cherry blossom season was almost gone, I was afraid I’d just been blind and missed it, but I think it just didn’t come until perhaps the end of last week. Dad got his first taste of soju, I got to sample some delicious ddok, and we got some classic East Asia photos…good times. We found out here that the “cherries” produced on these trees are not the edible variety the English name suggests, but are small and black and not for eating. A bit of a disappointment, but I do hear Korea has cherries, so I’ll be patient for now, especially while I have strawberries to sustain me.
Second, we went to a Buddhist temple in the mountains near Oesan. It’s actually right on the national forest grounds where I’ve been wanting to hike but have been thwarted by weather and illness. It was nice there and I will have to go back sometime. Dad saw his first temple and got a taste of traditional Korea, even though he had only me as a rusty guide. It’s been a while since I’ve been a’ temple-ing. Again, we got some nice photos of picturesque Korea. We also got to sample some local produce—there were a few mushroom vendors outside the temple complex, with pounds upon pounds of mushrooms and mushroom-acorn jelly side dishes, both of which we sampled. Mashisoyo!
Next, we ventured near Buyeo to the Baekje Cultural Museum. We had to go through it faster than I would have liked and I didn’t get to read everything or give each item my usual inquisitive gaze, but I did learn a little and saw a few cool things. There was a diorama of sorts on a large cylinder that rolled around as it told the story of the movement of Buddhism from Baekje to Japan, showing the route it took over the landscape. There were many life-size dioramas of household life during the time of the kingdom 1500 years ago, complete with sound effects. There were topographical maps of all kinds—Korea as a whole, East Asia as a whole, Buyeo, etc. There were areas where famous temples, most notably one in Ilksan, were recreated. For someone who is discovering a new love for museums, it was an unexpected treat.
Finally, we went to dinner. The main course for the night was chicken stew—an item I’ve never seen before. I was coaching Dad to expect grilled pork or raw fish, not an unknown dish! He was brave and insisted on using chopsticks, even when they ordered a fork for him. We had a little more soju here but I’d forgotten to tell him drinking customs in Korea—a mistake I quickly remedied once I saw him—GASP!—pour his own soju! I think they all thought I was a poor daughter because I was most definitely not behaving as a respectful Korean daughter should. I didn’t serve him food or drink and I didn’t really help him with the meal at all. He probably wouldn’t have liked it if I had, but I have the feeling the other teachers thought it was weird. Kyoung Hee Sam kept preparing dishes for me to pass over to him. As a matter of fact, I’m finding it hard to act in a Korean way lately. I complained about my Jeju trip recently, and now this. It’s not good nuchi (cultural vibe) and I need to curb this behavior. Otherwise, all was well. There were the usual speeches I never understand, the usual casual references to my name for unknown reasons, the usual awkward soju exchange with my principal. Dad got his first Korean restaurant experience and we both got to spend some time with my teachers, who complimented him extravagantly on his young looks and, of course, his amazing daughter. My principal even conveyed, via my co-teacher, their hopes that I would stay another year. They are relentless, I tell you. But good old Dad said he wanted me back. Perhaps this will silence them for a while—family is so important here. It is nice to know I am wanted and appreciated, even though I feel that if they had another ETA they wouldn’t be so attached to me. I don’t do that amazing of a job…it’s just better than the system they had in place before. In actuality, though, barring my misadventures with 3-2, today was another one of those days where I think I could happily extend. Mostly I am just glad my mood has passed, for I have a lot to be happy about and no time to spare to moping.
I’ve been introducing him at the beginning of each of my classes. They all know who he is by now, but they still have the predictable questions about age and height and sometimes job. The 3-2 class actually clapped and shouted “Good!” when he wrote his height on the board today…they are all so amazed he is so tall. Not a tough crowd in that respect.
I’ve been having computer issues at school and today I was afraid I’d broken my computer beyond repair. It was running soooooo slowly…I couldn’t even load my email all morning! But the miraculous first-grade teacher fixed it today at lunch, just as he did Dad’s wireless connection yesterday…he is so helpful. Perhaps one of these days I will stop being terrified of him.
This afternoon, we went on a big field trip to see the sights of the area. I have a sneaking suspicion it was arranged specifically for my Dad, because we’ve never done anything nearly this elaborate before. We will often do something on Wednesdays—we get the afternoon off—but it’s usually only volleyball. Once we raked leaves all afternoon. I think the only other Wednesdays we left was one time to a movie set nearby and one time to another elementary school turned museum, filled with educational relics from the last hundred years. And I don’t think we’ve ever gotten dinner together—it’s usually just a snack. Today, in contrast, we went three places and then out to a fancy dinner.
First we went to Naesan Elementary School to see some cherry blossoms at a festival there. It was pretty spectacular—I think cherry blossoms must finally be venturing north, because these looked to be in better shape than the ones I saw last weekend in Jinhae. When I heard cherry blossom season was almost gone, I was afraid I’d just been blind and missed it, but I think it just didn’t come until perhaps the end of last week. Dad got his first taste of soju, I got to sample some delicious ddok, and we got some classic East Asia photos…good times. We found out here that the “cherries” produced on these trees are not the edible variety the English name suggests, but are small and black and not for eating. A bit of a disappointment, but I do hear Korea has cherries, so I’ll be patient for now, especially while I have strawberries to sustain me.
Second, we went to a Buddhist temple in the mountains near Oesan. It’s actually right on the national forest grounds where I’ve been wanting to hike but have been thwarted by weather and illness. It was nice there and I will have to go back sometime. Dad saw his first temple and got a taste of traditional Korea, even though he had only me as a rusty guide. It’s been a while since I’ve been a’ temple-ing. Again, we got some nice photos of picturesque Korea. We also got to sample some local produce—there were a few mushroom vendors outside the temple complex, with pounds upon pounds of mushrooms and mushroom-acorn jelly side dishes, both of which we sampled. Mashisoyo!
Next, we ventured near Buyeo to the Baekje Cultural Museum. We had to go through it faster than I would have liked and I didn’t get to read everything or give each item my usual inquisitive gaze, but I did learn a little and saw a few cool things. There was a diorama of sorts on a large cylinder that rolled around as it told the story of the movement of Buddhism from Baekje to Japan, showing the route it took over the landscape. There were many life-size dioramas of household life during the time of the kingdom 1500 years ago, complete with sound effects. There were topographical maps of all kinds—Korea as a whole, East Asia as a whole, Buyeo, etc. There were areas where famous temples, most notably one in Ilksan, were recreated. For someone who is discovering a new love for museums, it was an unexpected treat.
Finally, we went to dinner. The main course for the night was chicken stew—an item I’ve never seen before. I was coaching Dad to expect grilled pork or raw fish, not an unknown dish! He was brave and insisted on using chopsticks, even when they ordered a fork for him. We had a little more soju here but I’d forgotten to tell him drinking customs in Korea—a mistake I quickly remedied once I saw him—GASP!—pour his own soju! I think they all thought I was a poor daughter because I was most definitely not behaving as a respectful Korean daughter should. I didn’t serve him food or drink and I didn’t really help him with the meal at all. He probably wouldn’t have liked it if I had, but I have the feeling the other teachers thought it was weird. Kyoung Hee Sam kept preparing dishes for me to pass over to him. As a matter of fact, I’m finding it hard to act in a Korean way lately. I complained about my Jeju trip recently, and now this. It’s not good nuchi (cultural vibe) and I need to curb this behavior. Otherwise, all was well. There were the usual speeches I never understand, the usual casual references to my name for unknown reasons, the usual awkward soju exchange with my principal. Dad got his first Korean restaurant experience and we both got to spend some time with my teachers, who complimented him extravagantly on his young looks and, of course, his amazing daughter. My principal even conveyed, via my co-teacher, their hopes that I would stay another year. They are relentless, I tell you. But good old Dad said he wanted me back. Perhaps this will silence them for a while—family is so important here. It is nice to know I am wanted and appreciated, even though I feel that if they had another ETA they wouldn’t be so attached to me. I don’t do that amazing of a job…it’s just better than the system they had in place before. In actuality, though, barring my misadventures with 3-2, today was another one of those days where I think I could happily extend. Mostly I am just glad my mood has passed, for I have a lot to be happy about and no time to spare to moping.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Buses, Blossoms, and the End of the Blues--Tuesday, April 10
Yet another sign it’s spring: if the cherry blossoms and balmy temperatures aren’t enough, the pace of life has noticeably picked up. It’s been a busy couple of weeks for this tired lady—first Jeju, then a week back, then another weekend away in Masan, and now my dad is here. Soon we will be heading on a weeklong trip of the Land of Morning Calm, and though I am most definitely looking forward to it, the thought of being a tour guide through uncharted terrain is somewhat tiring. The actuality will hopefully be better.
Early Saturday morning, I began the journey to Masan, a seaside city in the southeastern corner of Korea. It took me over six hours, but it was not unpleasant—I gained confidence in getting myself around virtually unknown places, I learned how it might be possible to get to many other places (via the main bus terminal in Daejeon), and I was able to spend guiltfree hours reading and knitting. My friend George lives in Masan and entertained us for the duration of the visit. He picked me up at the bus terminal, we ate some Mexican at a surprisingly authentic-looking restaurant (though I’m not too sure about the prevalence of the Plains Indians prominently displayed in the decor in actual Mexico), and took me to gawk at the fish market. We met Steve and Robin, who live in Gumi, a little while later and then George took us on a small hike to the top of the mountain behind his apartment complex to see the city and the sea. It was pretty nice. By dinnertime, we’d met up with seven others—Janaki, who also lives in Gumi, Kiehl and Christina from Mokpo, Anurag from Gwangju, and Jon, Alyssa, and Traci from Pohang. I’m friends with them all, so it was great fun to be surrounded by such great people, especially since I’d hardly seen any of them at the conference the weekend before. We had Korean-style soup for dinner and then chatted (and shivered) for hours by a pond on the nearby campus. Kiehl actually went for a swim (bribed with beer, pizza, money, and a new towel and underwear).
The next day, I woke up at 6:30 to continue the hike started yesterday. I ended up meandering for a couple hours. I got a little lost, but I found my way eventually, making the loop I’d planned only a little bigger. The only problem was that I forgot my phone in the room and I was a little late, so my “friends” had ditched me and taken my only means of communication. I had to go back to the hotel, use the owner’s phone, and then try to find them in a new city. It was an adventure. We finally went to Jinhae, the actual location of the cherry blossom festival, and climbed the 365 stairs to the top of the mountain enclosed by the city to look around. In addition to the view, a breath-taking sea of frosted trees, we also found ourselves entranced by monstrous hula hoops, which were probably a good six feet in diameter and weighed a ton. We used them, of course, and even made it onto some Korean man’s home video. Oh, the adventures never stop with this crew!
I had to leave right afterwards to make it home at a decent time. The trip back was largely uneventful, but in a good way—at least I didn’t get lost!
Then on Monday, I took another long trip—this time to Incheon to pick up the old pops. Again, I found my way with no difficulties; however, it was a much longer trip than I anticipated. I thought I would be there in plenty of time (I left as soon as I could, just in case), but it took me five hours! At least I found him there and in one piece. I’d resigned myself to staying the night in Cheonan, a random big city where we switched buses, because I thought it would be far too late to catch any bus to the rural backwater, but we managed to catch the last one with only nine minutes to spare! We didn’t get home until 11 and had to take a $20 taxi ride from Buyeo to do it, but it was much nicer than staying in a sleazy hotel!
Today, I took Dad to school with me. Absolutely everyone was fascinated by him. The kids initially all thought he was my long-lost boyfriend and were just entranced by the sight of another foreigner on the grounds. They surrounded us on the playground and in between classes—it was so funny! The teachers all loved his attempts at Korean and tried to stuff him full of ddok, bread, and tea. The principal, of course, made us come in for an interview, but it was really just to ask him a few questions about our family and to tell him that they all liked me. It was nice to hear and I appreciate all their efforts to reach out to my family.
Classes went really well today. I’m glad Dad could see me at my best, though I wonder if he now thinks I exaggerate how utterly awful the little urchins can be. I opened class with a few minutes of interview, during which my fourth and fifth graders asked the predictable questions—how old are you, when’s your birthday, how tall are you. They could not believe how tall he was—he’s a Korean giant!
This afternoon, we went to TKD together, where the kids were really excited by his presence again. A bunch of them insisted on counting in English during stretches and they were bowing like crazy and talking to him as much as possible. I think my teacher was affected, too—he seemed to be taking more care to actually teach me. Not that he usually neglects me, but he seemed to be critiquing me more.
And tonight we are both wiped out. It’s only Tuesday…how am I going to keep the madness up? On the other hand, at least my spirits are up. I was a little worried I’d lost some of my optimism and drive, but today—and yesterday, too, as a matter of fact—were those days when I seriously think I could and should stay here another year. I was actually happy to see my kids, and moreover, I was really proud of them! I am hoping the last few weeks were just a low blip in an otherwise blissful year abroad.
Early Saturday morning, I began the journey to Masan, a seaside city in the southeastern corner of Korea. It took me over six hours, but it was not unpleasant—I gained confidence in getting myself around virtually unknown places, I learned how it might be possible to get to many other places (via the main bus terminal in Daejeon), and I was able to spend guiltfree hours reading and knitting. My friend George lives in Masan and entertained us for the duration of the visit. He picked me up at the bus terminal, we ate some Mexican at a surprisingly authentic-looking restaurant (though I’m not too sure about the prevalence of the Plains Indians prominently displayed in the decor in actual Mexico), and took me to gawk at the fish market. We met Steve and Robin, who live in Gumi, a little while later and then George took us on a small hike to the top of the mountain behind his apartment complex to see the city and the sea. It was pretty nice. By dinnertime, we’d met up with seven others—Janaki, who also lives in Gumi, Kiehl and Christina from Mokpo, Anurag from Gwangju, and Jon, Alyssa, and Traci from Pohang. I’m friends with them all, so it was great fun to be surrounded by such great people, especially since I’d hardly seen any of them at the conference the weekend before. We had Korean-style soup for dinner and then chatted (and shivered) for hours by a pond on the nearby campus. Kiehl actually went for a swim (bribed with beer, pizza, money, and a new towel and underwear).
The next day, I woke up at 6:30 to continue the hike started yesterday. I ended up meandering for a couple hours. I got a little lost, but I found my way eventually, making the loop I’d planned only a little bigger. The only problem was that I forgot my phone in the room and I was a little late, so my “friends” had ditched me and taken my only means of communication. I had to go back to the hotel, use the owner’s phone, and then try to find them in a new city. It was an adventure. We finally went to Jinhae, the actual location of the cherry blossom festival, and climbed the 365 stairs to the top of the mountain enclosed by the city to look around. In addition to the view, a breath-taking sea of frosted trees, we also found ourselves entranced by monstrous hula hoops, which were probably a good six feet in diameter and weighed a ton. We used them, of course, and even made it onto some Korean man’s home video. Oh, the adventures never stop with this crew!
I had to leave right afterwards to make it home at a decent time. The trip back was largely uneventful, but in a good way—at least I didn’t get lost!
Then on Monday, I took another long trip—this time to Incheon to pick up the old pops. Again, I found my way with no difficulties; however, it was a much longer trip than I anticipated. I thought I would be there in plenty of time (I left as soon as I could, just in case), but it took me five hours! At least I found him there and in one piece. I’d resigned myself to staying the night in Cheonan, a random big city where we switched buses, because I thought it would be far too late to catch any bus to the rural backwater, but we managed to catch the last one with only nine minutes to spare! We didn’t get home until 11 and had to take a $20 taxi ride from Buyeo to do it, but it was much nicer than staying in a sleazy hotel!
Today, I took Dad to school with me. Absolutely everyone was fascinated by him. The kids initially all thought he was my long-lost boyfriend and were just entranced by the sight of another foreigner on the grounds. They surrounded us on the playground and in between classes—it was so funny! The teachers all loved his attempts at Korean and tried to stuff him full of ddok, bread, and tea. The principal, of course, made us come in for an interview, but it was really just to ask him a few questions about our family and to tell him that they all liked me. It was nice to hear and I appreciate all their efforts to reach out to my family.
Classes went really well today. I’m glad Dad could see me at my best, though I wonder if he now thinks I exaggerate how utterly awful the little urchins can be. I opened class with a few minutes of interview, during which my fourth and fifth graders asked the predictable questions—how old are you, when’s your birthday, how tall are you. They could not believe how tall he was—he’s a Korean giant!
This afternoon, we went to TKD together, where the kids were really excited by his presence again. A bunch of them insisted on counting in English during stretches and they were bowing like crazy and talking to him as much as possible. I think my teacher was affected, too—he seemed to be taking more care to actually teach me. Not that he usually neglects me, but he seemed to be critiquing me more.
And tonight we are both wiped out. It’s only Tuesday…how am I going to keep the madness up? On the other hand, at least my spirits are up. I was a little worried I’d lost some of my optimism and drive, but today—and yesterday, too, as a matter of fact—were those days when I seriously think I could and should stay here another year. I was actually happy to see my kids, and moreover, I was really proud of them! I am hoping the last few weeks were just a low blip in an otherwise blissful year abroad.
Friday, April 06, 2007
It's finally spring!!--Friday, April 6
Or it’s a damn good imitation of it, at least. It’s funny to think that we are now finally getting back the weather we enjoyed in February. I didn’t wear leggings under my pants today for the first time in ages, and though I felt naked without them, it was nice to be warm again. I was even hot in TKD—after months of wearing at least three layers during practice, today I was sweating in just one! Oh, spring is here, and no one is happier than me!
It’s amazing how much weather affects my mood. Despite having five classes today, it wasn’t a bad day at all—one of those where I think I could actually do this job indefinitely. I am a little sad that I’m not picking up my pops right now at the airport, but now I will be able to go to the cherry blossom festival in Jinhae, so all is well. I am feeling a little behind still after Jeju—emails are piling up in my inbox and since I didn’t have the prep time I normally do this week because I was gone, I haven’t been able to plan any lessons for next week—but I feel excited for this weekend and am determined to enjoy my time off. What a contrast from last week, when I was equally determined to despise travel!
Things with my crush did hit a snag today, though, when I ran into him while walking to lunch and realized he had his shoes on the wrong feet. Perhaps I should heed this wakeup call and leave the youngsters be.
It’s amazing how much weather affects my mood. Despite having five classes today, it wasn’t a bad day at all—one of those where I think I could actually do this job indefinitely. I am a little sad that I’m not picking up my pops right now at the airport, but now I will be able to go to the cherry blossom festival in Jinhae, so all is well. I am feeling a little behind still after Jeju—emails are piling up in my inbox and since I didn’t have the prep time I normally do this week because I was gone, I haven’t been able to plan any lessons for next week—but I feel excited for this weekend and am determined to enjoy my time off. What a contrast from last week, when I was equally determined to despise travel!
Things with my crush did hit a snag today, though, when I ran into him while walking to lunch and realized he had his shoes on the wrong feet. Perhaps I should heed this wakeup call and leave the youngsters be.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
I am a multi-tasker (albeit an unskilled one)--Thursday, April 5
“I am terrible?” they ask, pointing and looking at me inquisitively.
“Yes, I am ANGRY!” I reply, glowering at their dirty devilish faces.
This exchange is occurring nowadays with alarming frequency. I suppose I should be somewhat satisfied that a) my students even bother to notice my feelings; and b) they can vocalize them to some extent in English. But why, oh why, do they have to torture me so? My classroom has become even more chaotic than a playground—at any one moment, I am engaged in an utterly hopeless attempt to imprint some basic English skills in their defiant skulls while simultaneously breaking up multiple physical fights; glaring at and occasionally sharply reprimanding students who continue carrying on conversations, often at top volume; confiscating distracting pencils, books, and papers; yelling at students who continuously deface my tables with their pencil scrawls, despite my constant reminders that tables are not paper; reminding them that the computers and keyboards placed so invitingly in reach are not in fact for their use (the constant keyboard clacking grates my nerves); and trying to ignore the students who invariably start crying. In short—disaster reigns supreme. And it does not stop after class, oh no no no no. I say goodbye, thankful my forty minutes of torture are up and perhaps have helped them learn one new word, and while most of the class thunders out of the room, leaving a wake of eraser dust, chair booby traps, pencil stubs, and forgotten papers, some thoughtful others stay behind and quickly tear down my board and hound me with questions and hands and voices. Demanding, always. I am afraid I am losing my love for the wee ones, and if that flees me, then where does my future lie?
My co-teacher has asked me three times this week about my plans after July. We had a somewhat long talk about it today—I told her I would probably go home, and she asked, “What about us?” I said Hongsan would get a new ETA, hopefully, and I would leave plenty of instructions and teaching materials for her. She replied that wasn’t what she wanted—she wanted me. Does she not see my twenty times weekly humiliating schooling by pint-sized gangsters? Either she is severely delusional, or even this is preferable to the English program they had in place before. As much as I wish to join her on the cliffs of utter insanity, I think I will snatch any tatters of self-esteem and dignity remaining by July and flee, flee. Back to exchanges with children who may call me fuckface, but can at least understand me. Back to my mountains and days of aimless wandering. Back to my family. Back to multi-tasking on MY terms.
“Yes, I am ANGRY!” I reply, glowering at their dirty devilish faces.
This exchange is occurring nowadays with alarming frequency. I suppose I should be somewhat satisfied that a) my students even bother to notice my feelings; and b) they can vocalize them to some extent in English. But why, oh why, do they have to torture me so? My classroom has become even more chaotic than a playground—at any one moment, I am engaged in an utterly hopeless attempt to imprint some basic English skills in their defiant skulls while simultaneously breaking up multiple physical fights; glaring at and occasionally sharply reprimanding students who continue carrying on conversations, often at top volume; confiscating distracting pencils, books, and papers; yelling at students who continuously deface my tables with their pencil scrawls, despite my constant reminders that tables are not paper; reminding them that the computers and keyboards placed so invitingly in reach are not in fact for their use (the constant keyboard clacking grates my nerves); and trying to ignore the students who invariably start crying. In short—disaster reigns supreme. And it does not stop after class, oh no no no no. I say goodbye, thankful my forty minutes of torture are up and perhaps have helped them learn one new word, and while most of the class thunders out of the room, leaving a wake of eraser dust, chair booby traps, pencil stubs, and forgotten papers, some thoughtful others stay behind and quickly tear down my board and hound me with questions and hands and voices. Demanding, always. I am afraid I am losing my love for the wee ones, and if that flees me, then where does my future lie?
My co-teacher has asked me three times this week about my plans after July. We had a somewhat long talk about it today—I told her I would probably go home, and she asked, “What about us?” I said Hongsan would get a new ETA, hopefully, and I would leave plenty of instructions and teaching materials for her. She replied that wasn’t what she wanted—she wanted me. Does she not see my twenty times weekly humiliating schooling by pint-sized gangsters? Either she is severely delusional, or even this is preferable to the English program they had in place before. As much as I wish to join her on the cliffs of utter insanity, I think I will snatch any tatters of self-esteem and dignity remaining by July and flee, flee. Back to exchanges with children who may call me fuckface, but can at least understand me. Back to my mountains and days of aimless wandering. Back to my family. Back to multi-tasking on MY terms.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Journey to Jeju--Wednesday, April 4
Oh, what a week this has been already, after two days back. I am really looking forward to my vacation with my dad—though I did get a day off for the conference, since I spent two and a half out of three days traveling, it wasn’t very restful. I am having trouble readjusting.
On Friday afternoon, before my journey began, I had a TKD test—the fourth form—which I passed, of course. Contrary to what I expected in the beginning, when I struggled with foot position alone, the forms are becoming easier now that I am used to the style employed. In fact, on Thursday afternoon alone I learned the fifth form, even though I will not be tested on it until the end of April! I believe I will be a blue belt at that point, but I’m not sure. TKD is going relatively well. I can’t say that I enjoy my fellow students in the 4:00 class quite as much as I did those in the 6:00, but the time works so much better with my schedule that I won’t even think about switching back. The one day a week I have to do the 6:00 class is torture of sorts now, anyway…it’s draining for this old lady to be away from home until so late, especially now that I’m getting up so early. Most of the kids in my new class go to Oksan Elementary School, so I don’t really know them well yet. They are friendly, though, and funny in their own way.
After my test, I ducked out early to meet my co-teacher, Kyoung Hee Sam, and the fifth grade teacher, so they could take me to Buyeo’s bus terminal. Unfortunately, I missed one bus to Seoul by four minutes. In fact, I probably would have been able to catch it, but I made a mistake somewhere in calculating the forty-minute intervals between buses. I thought the next one would be at 5:40, not 5:20. I had to wait, and then traffic was absolutely horrendous. The journey usually takes me two hours, but this time it was three. So there I was, stranded in southern Seoul, hungry, irritable, tired, and sick. I didn’t want to attend the conference anyway, so all these obstacles in my path did nothing to improve my attitude toward the reunion. I mean, I was embarking on a day-long journey both ways for a “conference” that would last only six hours, rendering it essentially useless, but would somehow leave me pretty much no time to see the place I had traveled so long to reach. Also, I have an attitude about reunions and I avoid them at all costs. My senior year at Pomona, I adopted disguises and a brisk walk to avoid “catchup” conversations with all my friends. I absolutely loathe these trite discussions, involving the same questions and answers over and over. My feeling is that if you are REALLY friends, you would have kept in touch anyway, so what’s the point in discussing your most recent vacation and future plans with someone who’s clearly not your friend? But then again, even though I hate such encounters in principle, once I am immersed in such an atmosphere, I do all right and even enjoy hearing about others’ trips to Cambodia, for example, and job prospects after Fulbright (as long as it doesn’t involve consulting J).
Back to tired, hungry, angry Jen. I met with my friend Paul there and we went out to dinner. He’s the one I met last October at the Halloween party. We’ve kept in touch since and I’ve seen him the few times I’ve been to Seoul, too. We have some similar interests—namely, hip hop and good books and Korea and Cape Town and social activism—so we get along pretty well. However, I feel like I’ve been in a bad mood the last few times we’ve met, which is potentially problematic because we really don’t see each other that much and our friendship doesn’t have a strong foundation to draw upon. I do have some of his books hostage, though, so I suppose there will be at least one more chance to redeem myself. He took me to a good tofu restaurant and I ate until I was literally stuffed and slightly more cheerful. Then I had to head the hour across town to my regular hotel. They unkindly overcharged me, but it was after midnight and raining, so I really didn’t have room to complain.
I woke up early and headed to the airport. I was under the assumption it was an hour later than it actually was, but then once I was on my way, I figured it would be just as nice to sit in an airport coffee shop as one elsewhere, like I’d been planning. Little did I know I would be there for the next SEVEN HOURS. I had little to no information at the time—the only announcements made in English were those telling us flights were canceled, even though this information was posted on digital signs everywhere in the airport—but I learned later that the cancellations were due to the weather. It was drizzling. Keep in mind that Korea is absolutely drenched with continuous downpour for six straight weeks. How is it possible that the airport could be closed in this mild weather and still operate at any time in the summer? I am still confused about this. Contrary to all expectations and logic, though, flights were canceled a good part of the day, and when they did begin to run again, no one was kind enough to inform me. I had to resort to harassing ticket agents for information because they were only calling standby numbers in Korean (apparently—I could hardly even understand the English coming from the loudspeakers, let alone the Korean!) They kept trying to redirect me to the standby ticket counter, where a noisy angry crowd had gathered to yell at an agent who ignored them and worked on his computer. Yes, Korean Airlines staff are exceedingly helpful. Just when I was about to give up and go home (remember, I didn’t want to go, anyway), they booked me a seat on my last try at the ticket counter. I didn’t get to the hotel until 6 pm, thereby missing the entire first day of the conference. So now I was down to three hours of actual conference, rendering the trip even less fruitful than I had thought it would be.
I was in a foul mood that entire day. I wrote quite a bit in my journal, but I fear it is not fit for any eyes but my own. Bianca said I looked ready to explode with rage. I’ve always suspected my face is easy to read, and she confirmed it, saying that if at any point in my life someone pretends to not know how I feel, it’s an outrageous lie. I’m surprised ANYBODY approached me at dinner. The dinner which featured 95% meat, on top of everything else. I ate pumpkin soup and bread and brooded.
By that night, with the help of a walk with Bianca, I was in better spirits and at least made the rounds of hotel rooms with B and Nika (my roommates) to chat to all our friends. For some overtly sexist reason, the hotel had prepared the rooms along gender lines, so while we were squished into a room that barely fit our beds, all the boys were in spacious suites where not only was the bedroom twice the size of the girls’ entire suite, but there was an even bigger adjacent entertaining room. It was nice for visiting purpose, but why the discrimination? It really bothered me and I cannot come up with one reason why the rooms would have been prepared this way. I’m told that’s how it was last year, too. Outrageous.
On Sunday, I finally attended the conference. We elementary ETAs were sequestered, as usual, and assigned the task of rewriting Orientation booklets for the incoming elementary ETAs. I will probably curse the workload later and do a much worse job on it than I would like, but I feel I owe it to those who will take my place to at least leave them with the little wisdom I’ve gleaned from this year. That way, they can at least start where I am and hopefully progress further. I know I would have appreciated far more assistance from Fulbright than I actually received, mostly in the realm of teaching. I was not prepared at all for creating and executing meaningful and enjoyable English lessons for two hundred easily excitable children. I still am not very good at it, but I have at least a few helpful hints for the brave souls who take on Korea’s youngest generation. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to teaching to those who can actually understand more than one word I say.
I never thought this would happen before, but at the moment, I am sick of kids. It’s all I can do to pretend to smile when I see them and I become irritated much of the time when they bother me outside of class. I used to always have a smile and a little time for kids…where is this hardened heart coming from? Have I lost my touch and my patience? Is it just the language thing, or would this happen if I were working with English-speaking kids, too? Even when I worked daycare and was surrounded by biters for nine hours a day, I managed to safeguard my love for the kids. Now, it is running short and it makes it hard to care about my teaching at all. Today I found that I was just trying to get through the required time and I realized I didn’t really care about the material or whether the kids understood or enjoyed it. This is NOT a good development. I suppose it is time for me to take some time off. Even taking my own feelings out of account, I don’t think I could stay here another year, if only because I think it would be a disservice to the kids to retain a teacher who at the moment, can hardly stand them. Seriously, even my cute little girls…I run away from them. What is wrong with me?
Back to Jeju…I forgot to mention that as a wonderful topper to the weekend, it was cloudy, rainy, and miserable the whole time. On Sunday afternoon, a group of us braved the weather to do some sightseeing around Seogwipo, the city we were staying in. We saw a couple waterfalls and walked to an island that becomes connected to the mainland at low tide. Pretty cool…I finally realized my dream of parting the sea! I want to go to a festival in a couple weeks which celebrates a similar event, but with a much larger island that is farther away from the mainland—a kilometer or so, I believe. It only happens a couple times a year. I am not sure if I will make it there, though.
Sunday night, we stayed in again and wandered from room to room. I stayed up much later than someone with overwhelming ear and nasal pain should, but I did enjoy talking to some of my friends.
On Monday, everyone began leaving. I took a long walk in the morning and then hopped on the shuttle bus at noon. I flew out at 3:30, arrived in Seoul at 4:30, took the subway across town (an hour and forty minutes!), and managed to catch the last bus to Buyeo. I was anxious the whole ride, thinking (hoping!) I would miss it, but luck (or something) was with me. I didn’t get home until 9:40.
I wish I had been able to enjoy Jeju while I was there, but with the rain and the short short trip, it was just not possible. Now I will have to go back. I have Hallasan to climb, beaches to see, oranges to eat….Jeju for a day is just a tease! It’s a little strange to think that’s our last official time together, but we all have at least three more months here, so I think (hope) that I will see all my friends at least once more. Even though the days seemingly creep by here in Hongsan, my time in Korea is rapidly coming to a close. It’s hard to believe I graduated nearly a year ago already…where DID all the time go? All I have to show for it is a gaping hole where my patience used to lie and a stone heart. Little rascally children are always stealing everything.
On Friday afternoon, before my journey began, I had a TKD test—the fourth form—which I passed, of course. Contrary to what I expected in the beginning, when I struggled with foot position alone, the forms are becoming easier now that I am used to the style employed. In fact, on Thursday afternoon alone I learned the fifth form, even though I will not be tested on it until the end of April! I believe I will be a blue belt at that point, but I’m not sure. TKD is going relatively well. I can’t say that I enjoy my fellow students in the 4:00 class quite as much as I did those in the 6:00, but the time works so much better with my schedule that I won’t even think about switching back. The one day a week I have to do the 6:00 class is torture of sorts now, anyway…it’s draining for this old lady to be away from home until so late, especially now that I’m getting up so early. Most of the kids in my new class go to Oksan Elementary School, so I don’t really know them well yet. They are friendly, though, and funny in their own way.
After my test, I ducked out early to meet my co-teacher, Kyoung Hee Sam, and the fifth grade teacher, so they could take me to Buyeo’s bus terminal. Unfortunately, I missed one bus to Seoul by four minutes. In fact, I probably would have been able to catch it, but I made a mistake somewhere in calculating the forty-minute intervals between buses. I thought the next one would be at 5:40, not 5:20. I had to wait, and then traffic was absolutely horrendous. The journey usually takes me two hours, but this time it was three. So there I was, stranded in southern Seoul, hungry, irritable, tired, and sick. I didn’t want to attend the conference anyway, so all these obstacles in my path did nothing to improve my attitude toward the reunion. I mean, I was embarking on a day-long journey both ways for a “conference” that would last only six hours, rendering it essentially useless, but would somehow leave me pretty much no time to see the place I had traveled so long to reach. Also, I have an attitude about reunions and I avoid them at all costs. My senior year at Pomona, I adopted disguises and a brisk walk to avoid “catchup” conversations with all my friends. I absolutely loathe these trite discussions, involving the same questions and answers over and over. My feeling is that if you are REALLY friends, you would have kept in touch anyway, so what’s the point in discussing your most recent vacation and future plans with someone who’s clearly not your friend? But then again, even though I hate such encounters in principle, once I am immersed in such an atmosphere, I do all right and even enjoy hearing about others’ trips to Cambodia, for example, and job prospects after Fulbright (as long as it doesn’t involve consulting J).
Back to tired, hungry, angry Jen. I met with my friend Paul there and we went out to dinner. He’s the one I met last October at the Halloween party. We’ve kept in touch since and I’ve seen him the few times I’ve been to Seoul, too. We have some similar interests—namely, hip hop and good books and Korea and Cape Town and social activism—so we get along pretty well. However, I feel like I’ve been in a bad mood the last few times we’ve met, which is potentially problematic because we really don’t see each other that much and our friendship doesn’t have a strong foundation to draw upon. I do have some of his books hostage, though, so I suppose there will be at least one more chance to redeem myself. He took me to a good tofu restaurant and I ate until I was literally stuffed and slightly more cheerful. Then I had to head the hour across town to my regular hotel. They unkindly overcharged me, but it was after midnight and raining, so I really didn’t have room to complain.
I woke up early and headed to the airport. I was under the assumption it was an hour later than it actually was, but then once I was on my way, I figured it would be just as nice to sit in an airport coffee shop as one elsewhere, like I’d been planning. Little did I know I would be there for the next SEVEN HOURS. I had little to no information at the time—the only announcements made in English were those telling us flights were canceled, even though this information was posted on digital signs everywhere in the airport—but I learned later that the cancellations were due to the weather. It was drizzling. Keep in mind that Korea is absolutely drenched with continuous downpour for six straight weeks. How is it possible that the airport could be closed in this mild weather and still operate at any time in the summer? I am still confused about this. Contrary to all expectations and logic, though, flights were canceled a good part of the day, and when they did begin to run again, no one was kind enough to inform me. I had to resort to harassing ticket agents for information because they were only calling standby numbers in Korean (apparently—I could hardly even understand the English coming from the loudspeakers, let alone the Korean!) They kept trying to redirect me to the standby ticket counter, where a noisy angry crowd had gathered to yell at an agent who ignored them and worked on his computer. Yes, Korean Airlines staff are exceedingly helpful. Just when I was about to give up and go home (remember, I didn’t want to go, anyway), they booked me a seat on my last try at the ticket counter. I didn’t get to the hotel until 6 pm, thereby missing the entire first day of the conference. So now I was down to three hours of actual conference, rendering the trip even less fruitful than I had thought it would be.
I was in a foul mood that entire day. I wrote quite a bit in my journal, but I fear it is not fit for any eyes but my own. Bianca said I looked ready to explode with rage. I’ve always suspected my face is easy to read, and she confirmed it, saying that if at any point in my life someone pretends to not know how I feel, it’s an outrageous lie. I’m surprised ANYBODY approached me at dinner. The dinner which featured 95% meat, on top of everything else. I ate pumpkin soup and bread and brooded.
By that night, with the help of a walk with Bianca, I was in better spirits and at least made the rounds of hotel rooms with B and Nika (my roommates) to chat to all our friends. For some overtly sexist reason, the hotel had prepared the rooms along gender lines, so while we were squished into a room that barely fit our beds, all the boys were in spacious suites where not only was the bedroom twice the size of the girls’ entire suite, but there was an even bigger adjacent entertaining room. It was nice for visiting purpose, but why the discrimination? It really bothered me and I cannot come up with one reason why the rooms would have been prepared this way. I’m told that’s how it was last year, too. Outrageous.
On Sunday, I finally attended the conference. We elementary ETAs were sequestered, as usual, and assigned the task of rewriting Orientation booklets for the incoming elementary ETAs. I will probably curse the workload later and do a much worse job on it than I would like, but I feel I owe it to those who will take my place to at least leave them with the little wisdom I’ve gleaned from this year. That way, they can at least start where I am and hopefully progress further. I know I would have appreciated far more assistance from Fulbright than I actually received, mostly in the realm of teaching. I was not prepared at all for creating and executing meaningful and enjoyable English lessons for two hundred easily excitable children. I still am not very good at it, but I have at least a few helpful hints for the brave souls who take on Korea’s youngest generation. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to teaching to those who can actually understand more than one word I say.
I never thought this would happen before, but at the moment, I am sick of kids. It’s all I can do to pretend to smile when I see them and I become irritated much of the time when they bother me outside of class. I used to always have a smile and a little time for kids…where is this hardened heart coming from? Have I lost my touch and my patience? Is it just the language thing, or would this happen if I were working with English-speaking kids, too? Even when I worked daycare and was surrounded by biters for nine hours a day, I managed to safeguard my love for the kids. Now, it is running short and it makes it hard to care about my teaching at all. Today I found that I was just trying to get through the required time and I realized I didn’t really care about the material or whether the kids understood or enjoyed it. This is NOT a good development. I suppose it is time for me to take some time off. Even taking my own feelings out of account, I don’t think I could stay here another year, if only because I think it would be a disservice to the kids to retain a teacher who at the moment, can hardly stand them. Seriously, even my cute little girls…I run away from them. What is wrong with me?
Back to Jeju…I forgot to mention that as a wonderful topper to the weekend, it was cloudy, rainy, and miserable the whole time. On Sunday afternoon, a group of us braved the weather to do some sightseeing around Seogwipo, the city we were staying in. We saw a couple waterfalls and walked to an island that becomes connected to the mainland at low tide. Pretty cool…I finally realized my dream of parting the sea! I want to go to a festival in a couple weeks which celebrates a similar event, but with a much larger island that is farther away from the mainland—a kilometer or so, I believe. It only happens a couple times a year. I am not sure if I will make it there, though.
Sunday night, we stayed in again and wandered from room to room. I stayed up much later than someone with overwhelming ear and nasal pain should, but I did enjoy talking to some of my friends.
On Monday, everyone began leaving. I took a long walk in the morning and then hopped on the shuttle bus at noon. I flew out at 3:30, arrived in Seoul at 4:30, took the subway across town (an hour and forty minutes!), and managed to catch the last bus to Buyeo. I was anxious the whole ride, thinking (hoping!) I would miss it, but luck (or something) was with me. I didn’t get home until 9:40.
I wish I had been able to enjoy Jeju while I was there, but with the rain and the short short trip, it was just not possible. Now I will have to go back. I have Hallasan to climb, beaches to see, oranges to eat….Jeju for a day is just a tease! It’s a little strange to think that’s our last official time together, but we all have at least three more months here, so I think (hope) that I will see all my friends at least once more. Even though the days seemingly creep by here in Hongsan, my time in Korea is rapidly coming to a close. It’s hard to believe I graduated nearly a year ago already…where DID all the time go? All I have to show for it is a gaping hole where my patience used to lie and a stone heart. Little rascally children are always stealing everything.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
The Death of Idealism--Tuesday, April 3
It is already past my self-imposed bedtime of 10pm, but after a five-day silence, at least a short entry seems in order. Today’s topic is….post-graduate idealism. Or lack thereof.
I was thinking about this a lot yesterday after a particularly enlightening breakfast conversation at the close of the Jeju Fulbright conference. I was sitting with some friends, talking about life plans after Fulbright—a very popular conversational topic at the moment, as most of us are about to embark on the “real world.” It’s like I’m going through senior year again—everyone’s freaking out about grad schools, job applications, fellowships, scholarships…I had some friends who were already pulling all-nighters doing and studying for interviews back in September! This panic has always struck me as being a touch ridiculous. I mean, none of us are going to starve or ever hurt for anything materialistically. We are among the global elite, for goodness sakes. Personally, I am looking forward to some time out when I move back—time to dabble in things I’ve never had the flexibility to do before, time to spend with my family, time to cultivate this rapidly rusting mind. But it seems I am a minority voice. This friend of mine mentioned that he had sold his soul and was joining the corporate world as an analyst for a year. He was clearly not thrilled about it, yet felt the need to settle for this job out of what he called sheer desperation. Sure, I suppose it has prestige and probably pays well. But I cannot understand why he—and soooo many of my formerly free-spirited Pomona acquaintances—would even apply for jobs for which they cultivate an active disdain. Why do so many of my peers drop their liberal arts-nurtured idealism for money and security? Am I the crazy one here, content to just float along aimlessly for the time being?
Bianca says that most of these people are probably like her—they freak out when they realize they have no plan and strive for success at all costs. I can understand this in some ways. We’ve put so much time and money into our educations and on some level we should certainly have something to show for it. However, a cushy job isn’t the only option. There’s overall well-being and health, there’s social consciousness, there’s the satisfaction of living life to the fullest and as a good person. The way I see it, a job is only a part of it; albeit an important part that can reflect and magnify the overarching goals I have for living. I am not saying that everyone is selling their souls for money, but that is how I would feel about my actions in a similar situation. I would feel untrue to myself to work for someone or something that did not further my ideals. And I am determined to remain an idealist.
I was thinking about this a lot yesterday after a particularly enlightening breakfast conversation at the close of the Jeju Fulbright conference. I was sitting with some friends, talking about life plans after Fulbright—a very popular conversational topic at the moment, as most of us are about to embark on the “real world.” It’s like I’m going through senior year again—everyone’s freaking out about grad schools, job applications, fellowships, scholarships…I had some friends who were already pulling all-nighters doing and studying for interviews back in September! This panic has always struck me as being a touch ridiculous. I mean, none of us are going to starve or ever hurt for anything materialistically. We are among the global elite, for goodness sakes. Personally, I am looking forward to some time out when I move back—time to dabble in things I’ve never had the flexibility to do before, time to spend with my family, time to cultivate this rapidly rusting mind. But it seems I am a minority voice. This friend of mine mentioned that he had sold his soul and was joining the corporate world as an analyst for a year. He was clearly not thrilled about it, yet felt the need to settle for this job out of what he called sheer desperation. Sure, I suppose it has prestige and probably pays well. But I cannot understand why he—and soooo many of my formerly free-spirited Pomona acquaintances—would even apply for jobs for which they cultivate an active disdain. Why do so many of my peers drop their liberal arts-nurtured idealism for money and security? Am I the crazy one here, content to just float along aimlessly for the time being?
Bianca says that most of these people are probably like her—they freak out when they realize they have no plan and strive for success at all costs. I can understand this in some ways. We’ve put so much time and money into our educations and on some level we should certainly have something to show for it. However, a cushy job isn’t the only option. There’s overall well-being and health, there’s social consciousness, there’s the satisfaction of living life to the fullest and as a good person. The way I see it, a job is only a part of it; albeit an important part that can reflect and magnify the overarching goals I have for living. I am not saying that everyone is selling their souls for money, but that is how I would feel about my actions in a similar situation. I would feel untrue to myself to work for someone or something that did not further my ideals. And I am determined to remain an idealist.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)