Miss Lu's blog

Unknown Park- Study Tour

A 7-year-old study tour trip to some unknown mystery park back in May. We explore the wonders of nature and discover a little more about Korean culture, as well as some deep insights into ourselves.

 

 

Daejeon Field Trip

Wow! Such a busy life, no time to create and post videos. I finally pieced together this video from a field trip our school took back in April. It introduces my Nightingale class students. Enjoy!

 

(Insert Terribly Unclever "Bee" Pun)

I was peacefully watching videos on my laptop when I heard a low, humming noise. My senses alerted, my spine straightened. I slowly turned my head towards the kitchen, my breath quickening with each passing second. My heart stopped as I saw an enormous bee flying up against the light, hitting it repeatedly. I never knew my stiff little body could react that quickly. I cowered like a little girl in the corner, desperately searching for something to fend off a possible attack.

That was 15 minutes ago. I can still hear a faint humming. He flew into the bright light of the kitchen, and I believe he trapped himself. The light has been on for hours, and as we speak, his body is probably cooking quickly. He had a few feeble attempts of escape, but he's just too big and clumsy. And that, my friends, is the greatest argument for diet and exercise.

I have shamed my family name. I can bodly stand up to the world and face the challenges before me. But, a bee? I can't get into the dark corner fast enough.

This reminds me of a cliche action movie. The bad guys are killed off within seconds. The blade goes through them. They make a quick gasp, followed by a gurgle, and the hero moves on to his next villan. Do we even have enough time to see the face of the villan? His death is quick, but then when the hero is finally run through with the blade, we have to sit through 5 minutes of long, sentimental dialogue followed by a flashback and another 5 minutes of the movie's depressing score, usually involving a woman crying. The only difference is, this bee is no hero. Every few minutes, I hear a second of buzzing, followed by silence. Oh please, little bee. Please die already. This isn't a movie. This is my sad little life. Do not stir my emotions so.

 

I've been contemplating exactly why I'm out here, and I'm no closer to finding that reason than when I first arrived. If possible, I feel even more confused. I am not anxious about the future, just perplexed. What am I doing here? What is it I'm looking for, and why was this all part of my life's plan? I'm taking it slow, one year at a time. I'm enjoying my experience, and wouldn't trade it for anything. And yes, at this point, I'm more likely to stay another year. Of course, it wouldn't be decided until closer to the end of my contract, but the life I lead before held very little appeal. I always joked that I was a secondary character in my own life story. That's how I've always felt. I've always lingered somewhere in the background, even in my own family. With two sisters who need the spotlight, I settled in to the background comfortably. As I get older, I realized that I truly don't like attention. But, I fear that I will disappear entirely.

I knew this would be a difficult experience. Slowly but surely, I've stopped caring what happens. At first it was just the work load and day to day annoyances of a money hungry, unorganized hagwon. But now I've been cheated out of my money, overtime pay, vacation days, sick days, health insurance, and every clause of my contract. It's all been broken. All been violated. All been discarded. I used to smile and play the part they wanted. I complied to their demands. I was the teacher they wanted, but it was never good enough. And now, I can't smile in their presence. I walk the other way. I've stopped caring. Why should I even try when the written word is void?

I'm little more than a slave. But I'm still here. Still alive. Still.

But the hardest part to endure is the lonliness. The incredible, all consuming lonliness. The coldness inside myself.

What life do I have to return to? What could I make here? I'm an ousider in either world. That's where my confusion begins.

Maybe that's why I cower in the corner, afraid of the bee. Am I the bee? The irresistable adventure... the future looks so bright from here. Will I meet the same fate? End the misery of the anti-hero. Why does his existence pain me so?

 

I no longer hear buzzing.  

 

Endurance

A long time since my last posting... I'm well aware. I get angry at myself. I should be blogging more. Two more days will mark the 3 month anniversary of my arrival, and I feel like I haven't recorded nearly enough. Well, that's not entirely true. I've been taking pictures and video where ever possible, but when it comes time to piece it all together, I find myself increasingly lazy. No, not lazy. Exhausted.

I have no more energy to bitch about the conditions I find myself in. It's not a good situation. I feel like there are parts of me that have been slowly dying, day after day... week after week. The school I am at (hagwon) claims every part of me. I've never worked so hard in my life. When I'm not physically in class teaching, I'm making worksheets, preparing, planning, organizing, etc. Every minute of my time is spent doing work. I started out strong, but as the weeks creep by and the whip is ever stinging in my back, I'm losing steam. Several times last week I came home at 6:30-7:00 and fell asleep almost immediately. My body was shutting down before I could even finish eating dinner. I'm not someone who ever takes a nap past 4pm. Ever. And yes... I'm sick again, for the 5th time in 3 months. But, that's not surpising, with how unhygenic the conditions are.

When they do these sudden changes or screw me over, I no longer get angry. I've settled in to the understanding that anything that you want to happen, won't. Any change that could potentially make your life even more miserable, will happen. It's just the mode of operation of this hagwon.

I wouldn't say that I am broken.  I know that this is a huge character building experience. Especially in a male dominated culture, it's funny to see myself in such a submissive mode. Around "important" men, I don't speak unless spoken to. I keep my head respecfully low, and avoid lingering eye contact during payday negotiations. It may sound silly, but it's kept me in some favorable light since I figured out the way the culture operates.

I don't enjoy the pain. I know that something is building inside of me that is crucial to my future as an adult. This was needed in my life. This suffering... feeling like a slave. It's all for the greater good. It's all to make me a stronger person, but I think I am starting to really grasp what "stronger" means. I always thought that "stronger" meant tougher. When a situation arose, my "strength" and power could get me through. I'd clench my teeth, let out a war cry, and fight with every last bit of strength. In some ways, I do believe that is a form of strength. I've learned not to run away from life's problems. I've faced them head on, like a warrior. That's a part of who I am. The tower of character gets higher. But here, I'm not building a tower. I'm strengthening my foundations.

I'm building my quiet strength. The strength that comes from feeling terribly alone, being constantly reminded every second of every day that you're different; an outsider who can never fit in... constantly being stared at, sometimes glared at. You feel like you're doing something horribly wrong, just for the fact that you are you, and not them. Even though I have my friends, I still don't have my family near me... or friends back home... or have any piece of home that I can take comfort in. There is no restaraunt nearby... no food I could find that would give me a piece of home. My matress is a rock that I've learned to live with, so I take no comfort in sleep. It truly is a foreign land, and I still can't grasp that my home is on the other side of the world. It seems so close when I look over the mountains and into the distance. Sometimes, it's almost like vacationing in a different state. I could hop in the car, and drive several hours to my home. My logic so badly wants to think that this is the case.

I'm not unhappy. I didn't want this blog to come across like that. But now that the initial annoyance has worn off, there is something stirring inside of me. I can't describe what is happening, but I'm changing. How could I not? I'm learning the life of a servant... only a servant is well provided for by their master. I might be closer to a slave. Today we had to really negotiate for health insurance, though it's in our contract. It's a battle we've been fighting for a while, and today we might have had a small victory.

I love the country, and the culture is intriguing. I'm trying to learn the language. I end every day upset and angry, because there is no such thing as a "good day" at school. I could list a thousand problems I have, but like I said... I have no more energy to complain. I need that energy if I'm going to survive another 9 months of slavery.

I tolerate it because I am indeed saving a lot of money. But it's more than the money. This is why I came here. I knew it wasn't going to be a walk in the park. I heard the horror stories of bad hagwons... though I didn't think I was lucky enough to actually end up at one. But God sent me here for a reason. He wasn't surprised, though I wish I could claim the same. I'm with 5 other foreign teachers, which is a blessing since most schools only have 1 foreign teacher. We have the most foreign teachers in Gumi, and that's something. Well, more like a testimony to the appearance obsession, but let's not get into that.

I am happy. Quietly, I gain strength through suffering. But, then again, why would I not enjoy it? I've always had a bit of a martyr complex, so you'd think I'd be right in my element. I don't think I will be able to see the changes in me by the time I leave here, but others will.

For now, I must endure... I must endure...

Jindo Island Adventure!

Jindo Island Adventure

What a weekend! I woke up early Saturday morning. John, James, our Jason Guy driver Chris, our two directors Bill and Iris, and Iris' 7 year old son Jacob were my traveling companions. We piled in to Chris' SUV and began our 5 hour drive to Jindo Island. Of course, John and I brought iPods and James slept most of the time. I was excited to have the music of my ipod drown out the loud jibberish of the 4 Koreans in the car. However, I discovered around hour 1.5 that my iPod hadn't been charged in a while, and was soon to die. Of course. I was obsessive about making sure my camera was fully charged, but the ipod got over looked. John was sitting in the second row with James and I, but he had no headrest in the middle seat, so he asked to move to the back seat with Iris and Jacob. Well, in Korea there are many tunnels to drive through, since the terrain is extremely mountainous. I taught John the game where you hold you breath until the end of the tunnel, and he got Jacob to do it. Jacob loved it! Food and candy was plentiful, so Jacob pops a candy in his mouth and then proceeds to take a big breath in at the start of the tunnel. You know... I just love how dumb 7 year olds are. With his deep breath in, he manages to inhale his candy, causing him to choke. So, a few moments in the tunnel we realize he's choking. Iris manages a couple pats on the back and a finger in his mouth, and Jacob swallows the candy. So, we're relieved that catastrophe has been avoided, but then Jacob gets a very confused look on his face. Within moments, he turns to face John and vomits. Of course, it gets all over John's jeans. He was very gracious about it, more gracious than I would have been in the situation. At the next rest stop, Bill gives John an extra pair of jeans to put on. When alone with James and myself, we finally see John's annoyance. And, of course, the parent never gets vomited on. It's always the poor, unsuspecting, childless person.

So, a trip of 5 hours should only warrant 2 stops MAX one way. When my family and I road trip from Phoenix to San Diego, it's around a 6 hour trip and we only stop once on the way there to use the bathroom, get some snacks, stretch the legs, etc. Well, apparently Koreans need to stop 3 times for a 5 hour trip. We wasted a lot of time. And, on top of that, the distance itself shouldn't even take 5 hours. It was 5 hours for us because we stopped so many times! On the way there we stopped for lunch (+2 bathroom breaks), and on the way back we stopped for dinner (and 2 more breaks). I'm guessing it shouldn't take more than 3.5 hours on the nonstop route. That's nothing. You can make it to Jindo with one stop. Easy. Anyway.... that's getting a ltitle off topic.

Walking on dry land through the parted sea...

At around 10:45 am, they crack open the beer. Of course, my American jaw dropped as I witnessed a car full of Koreans openly drink alcohol in a moving vehicle. I made a fuss and Chris, our driver, didn't have any beer. I think it was out of consideration for me. Here in Korea, they have absolutely no rules when it comes to driving. Basically, on the road, everything is fair game. Some taxi drivers even have little screens and watch tv and movies while driving you to your destination! Yes! Asians are bad drivers! It's not a stereotype! They are horrible! I've almost been in half a dozen accidents just as a passenger! Truly astonishing!

The oldschool bathrooms at rest stops are terrifying. Please see picture below. You pull down your pants and squat like you're out in God's natural wild. I managed just fine, but felt so dirty and violated afterwards. So dirty... So violated... so dirty.

 

Old School Korean Toliets

 

We finally get there and purchase boots and plastic jackets and follow the crowds of people. The sea air was filled with excitement! Strange music could be heard from the celebrations above. The empty beachline was filled with amazing seashells, starfish, crabs, attached seaweed, etc. It's a huge deal for local Koreans. They work very hard to get the seaweed, collect the shelled creatures to sell at local markets, and basic make a profit from the extremely low tide. The tide continued to pull out, and sure enough, the water slowly parted like the Red Sea. We, along with thousands of other people, made our way through the parted waters toward Jindo Island. Of course, we stopped many times to take pictures, observe the locals, shoot some video, and stand around. It was amazing to be so far out and do a 360 turn, and see the sea completely surrounding you. I've never seen so many starfish! I almost stepped on so many! Poor little creatures. They don't really move that well, so when the tide leaves, all the quick creatures get out... but oh, the poor little starfish are stuck! They were crazy looking! I've only ever seen California starfish... the rough pink ones. These were smooth, purple and orange. Go Suns!

Starfish!!

Unfortunately, the tide quickly came rushing back in, and the police and helpers blew their whistles and directed all of us back to shore. As we walked back towards the car, we got to observe all the people vending their craft, see how the seaweed paper stuff is made (what is it called? the green paper like seaweed you wrap rice up in and eat), and observes the festivities. It was good to see so many foreigners! They were everywhere. It's not common to see foreigners you don't know in Gumi. We're pretty tightly knit.

So, we headed home but stopped at a seafood joint at 9pm. Of course, I still hate seafood. They put a closed top frying pan on the burner on our table and turned up the heat. It was filled with green veggies and all kids of stuff. We realized that the heat was causing the green things to expand, causing the lid to start shifting... or so we thought. John and James exclaimed with curious surprise that in the frying pan was two live crabs, and that's what the shifting was. Of course, I was appalled and very upset by it. I don't want to watch something that's alive be fried to death. I think it's disgusting... Something about the pain it suffers and the moment the animal soul leaves its body... Don't get me started. Yes, yes, we all know I'm weird. But I do NOT want to watch crabs die. Fortunately, I was at the end of the table, so I didn't have to watch it happen. There was tons of food on the table. But you know, I just don't like seafood. I tried some of the murdered crab, and all feelings aside, it really had no taste. For me, seafood is just very bland. I  mean, I like salmon, but it has to be really spiced up salmon. Yes, I am a pisces. Hate seafood. Wanna start something?

Foreigners Rock!

We rolled back in to Gumi around 1am. I was exhausted! I got home, peeled off my clothes, didn't even bother to put on pajamas, and crashed out in my bed. And yes, if you watched the video, you know what I found in my bag of shells the next morning.

I paid Mirranda 10,000won earlier this evening to get the dead crab out of the shell. She forked it out, poured bleach in the shell and let it soak, bleached her sink, threw away the tupperware, and got a nice bit of money for moments of work. I handed her the money and said "Here you go, Chocolate." I had to laugh at that. I love black women. They got spirit!

That was my weekend! I took pictures and uploaded them on MySpace... and Facebook wont let me upload. So, if you are my friend on either of those, enjoy the pictures!

I Am Korean Drama

If I said that life as of late has been peaceful and liveable, you'd probably know I was lying by the way my nose poked directly out of your computer screen. It hasn't taken me very long to figure out that there are no "good days" at school. Every week is a frustrating challenge, and by the weekend, I'm completely mentally and physically exhausted. Now, don't get me wrong. I love being here. It's the school that causes 99% of my heartache.

Seriously, this culture is nothing to brag about. This sounds cold and calloused, but who are we kidding? That's me, after all. The history of the country is nice, the landscape is beautiful, the people are kind, the fashion is interesting... but take all these things and then try to blend it in to an organized version of the 21st century, and you have a giant heap of... dongsa?  You see, it never ceases to amaze me how unorganized and backwards this country is! They freak out about getting sick (as I mentioned before they run to the hospital at the first sign of sniffles), but then they have a bar of soap in the bathrooms for public use, don't cover mouths when coughing, don't enforce washing hands (which, I'd rather take my chances with than use the public soap bar), don't use hot water and soap to clean dishes, share one big bowl of food without any regard to the Westernized "double dipping" rule, etc. They have no idea about preventative health care!! Yeah, they think the floor is dirty and I got reprimanded once for sitting directly on it, but sure... go ahead and use your one pair of chopsticks to feed yourself and the nasty little sick kids begging for food like a lap dog. This is not to sound cruel or judgemental, but the sanitary condition of the public is in desperate need of reform. We've had issues with getting our packages deliver, too. Either it's stuck at customs, or it's delivered to the wrong address, or it will sit at the post office forever and you'll never even know it's there. I have no idea how business actually gets conducted here! My school especially has 0% organization, which is the main reason the foreign teachers (such as myself) are frustrated. If we could take over the school for a week, we'd have one of the best schools in the city. But, it's like the hinder any good idea and encourage us to eventually give up trying to make a better school and settle for a below par, expensive education system. The children suffer, and the parents are paying a fortune to have their kids memorize a handful of English sentences.

One of the things that bothers me most is the way the really rich children are treated better than the average rich childen. For example. If a really rich gets a tiny boo boo, they rush them downstairs and bandage them up and give them sweets and make a huge fuss over them. If one of the not so insanely rich kids gets a leg cut off, they look at it and are like "oh... ok. go to class." But, despite the prejudice against the moderate rich children, my main issue is this: This school is raising children to be sissy little wimps.

When I was little, I got quite a few cuts, scrapes, bruises, etc. Hey, I was a kid. That's what kids do. They fall down. They get little fingers stuck in things. It's life. It's called "Get hurt in deal with it, because when you're an adult you're going to be hurt in ways that hurt more than the physical, and no one is going to be there to fuss over you."  Now, I'm not saying you can't tend to children's wounds.... but they take it to an extreme. Example:

I was teaching the other day and one of the boys in the class came up to me and showed me his finger. I didn't see anything, so he squeezed it a little and my eyes detected a TINY papercut. Nothing at all. I get these all the time. It wasn't even on his fleshy parts of the finger and was more like a knick than anything. By the time he showed me, the very very very small drop of blot had clotted, if it can even be considered a drop. I doubt it even made it to the surface. He asked if he could go to the bathroom, so I said yes. I continued teaching and then minutes later our principal (who was arguing with parents in the hallway... a whole other blog topic) comes in with the student and holds out his hand to me and tells me to put a bandaid on his finger. I stood there at first and just stared, and I'm sure he saw the look in my eyes that screamed "Are you freaking kidding me??" But, what do you say to the man that holds your balls in his hands? So, I had to stop in the middle of teaching and bandage the finger. I'm glad the kids don't understand much English, because I chose that moment to release a string of sarcastic remarks, laced with a tad bit of profanity. Good Lord. It was a papercut, and could barely qualify for a paper cut at best. Dude, when I was in high school and sliced my toe open on the bleachers, the teacher wouldn't even let another student help me to the nurses office! I had blood all over my shoe and toes! I'm not saying it was right, but hell, it taught me a life lesson. What was the lesson? "No one cares." Disagree?

And oh, now we have cameras in EVERY classroom.... mine included. They watch us, 24/7. They sit at their desks and watch every camera, waiting for us to screw up or for a kid to get up or breathe... and then they either come into the room to inspect or they annouce a message for YOUR room over the ENTIRE intercom system. We are all pissed off to such an extreme. You can't teach being monitored all the time. Sure, keep a camera in there just in case something happens, that way you can review the tapes. But to watch us at every moment?!?!!?

Jason, our principal and god of our universe, sits in his huge cushioned arm chair and watches the cameras on his big screen tv in his office. He reminds me of the Godfather the way he sits there. Clearly, he has nothing better to do with his time then count the money and watch 15 or so cameras. What's next? Cameras in the bathroom?

The other day, I was getting ready for school. I bought this mini pizza thing at one of the grocery stores around here, and it was gross. So, I threw it away. But, by the next day, it was making my apartment smell, so I tied up the tiny bag and took it with me as Mirranda and I left our building to walk to school. As we exited, I tossed the bag in the pile of trash that everyone piles up around here. Well, we start walking and I hear this Korean voice yelling from behind. I figured he was trying to get our attention, since there was no one else on the street, but we kept walking. Well, we got pretty far, but he kept calling to us, and then we realized he was chasing us down. Yep, he caught up and was pretty mad that we made him chase us down the street, but I think he was surprised when he saw we were foreigners, because some of his anger cleared away. So, he starts yelling at me in Korean. In his hand, he's holding my tiny bag of trash! I kep trying to say that I don't speak Hangul (Korean), and he's like "ooooh"... but then starts up again, as if we might be trying to pull a fast one on him. So Mirranda and I just keep looking back and forth as I continue to get the lecture about my trash. Eventually, I just start nodding at him like yes, I understand what I did was wrong, Oppa. Please forgive me. Finally, he lets us go. To this day I have no idea what the hell he was talking about.

You see, it's quite ironic. Again, a backwards country comment... There is literally trash EVERYWHERE. People toss it all over the streets, and whole lots are dedicated just to people tossing their trash. And no, it's not bagged. It's just everywhere. There are no dumpsters, no trash days, no nothing. You just toss out your trash. Well, you're supposed to put it in a bag, but people just walk down the street and toss their crap to the side! Trash trash trash everywhere! So, I find it ironic that my small, tied up, plastic bag was so offensive to Mr. Gumi Trash Collector that he had to chase me down the street and lecture me about what I did wrong. And, it's not like anyone tells you what to do with your trash when you get here. You have to just figure out how to exist in this country! 

I'm telling you, my character is becoming strong. I'm going to make some unlucky man the happiest man in the world, because hey, I can put up with anything.

The elephants that live above me are making noise again (of course). There is no reason why anyone should stomp around like that unless you weigh over 400 pounds. And, there's no reason to take showers at 3am, unless you work some night shift (which they dont). Oy. Apartment drama.

The only thing that makes up for the horrific experiences is the shopping. Oh my goodness... Dirt cheap prices! I picked up 2 jackets, a sweater, and cargo shorts for under 30 US dollars. Everytime we go shopping, I can't imagine leaving here. I never cared for shopping before. Of course, I never really had money before. But, I only spend about 1/3 of my paychecks on food, bills, etc. So, I'm quite excited about how much money I am saving.  I'm going to use it to purchase my mail order husband. I'd get a cute Korean one, but I don't think he'd adapt well to life in America. So, I'll just keep my money and my options open.

But oh, I can't wait till the school gets my phone bill. They are going to piss themselves. They take 20,000 won (less than 20 bucks) out of our paychecks every month to cover our phone bills. So, I figure, what I'm losing in overtime, breaks, cleaning, etc., I'm making up for in international calls. I talk for HOURS every weekend, with no phone card. If it's at least a couple dollars a minute to call internationally, and I talk for at least 4 hours 4 weekends a month... well... you do the math. Hopefully I wont get screwed on this one. Who am I kidding?

Tomorrow is Friday. Thank God! The weeks always kill my soul.

Plus, my laptop broke last week. I tried taking it to a Korean place, but they could only erase everything and then load the Korean version of Windows on my comp. No thanks. So, I restored my factory settings on my own. Of course, I lost everything on my computer (as I have no real way of backing up files). It was a sad loss. Pictures, music, writings, etc... All gone. But, it was the only thing that could be done. It was for the greater good, and I just now realized I'm quite a utilitarian. Go figure.

Well, puppets... you've all forgotten me, just as I suspected. I'm going to teach you a lesson and marry a Korean and have lots of half Korean babies who love me, and then you will be sorry.

Perhaps I should rethink my plan.

Living in the Coal Room

I just invented a new game. You drink 2 liters of water and see how long it takes before you pee your pants.

I didn't say it was a good game, but it certainly keeps things interesting in my apartment. And, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear I was high with as much as I am laughing at my game's concept, which in turn makes the object of the game suddenly (and painfully) more evident. No, drugs destroy dreams, and I realize that my sanity drastically decreases the more tired I am. Tiredness and exhaustion and mental instability is courtesy of my employer, thank you very much.

We had a bit of a... disagreement.. yesterday. We keep getting schedule changes spur of the moment without any notice, and we are expected to go into some new class without any book or preparation, and teach.. something. While that bothers me, I had another issue entirely, which then was brought up with the final straw- the new afternoon schedule. Fortunately, the principal  and messiah of the school I work for seems to like me, so he pulled me into his office and we had a chat. Of course, I'm always nervous in the principals office. Too many memories. But, I tired to explain in simple English (he doesn't speak too much but can understand basics) that I already have 5 out of 6 morning classes that I teach (back to back), with no assistant (all the other teachers have a Korean teaching assistant to help them in their classroom), I have no time to even clean the kids dishes after lunch or clean my room after the day is over, no time to make worksheets (which they make me do weekly, though our contract said lesson plans are provided), no time to make the weekly plan, no time for anything! See, I wouldn't complain if my afternoon was free so I could get stuff done, but the schedule yesterday had me working 3 hours in the afternoon as well. That was it. I was NOT working 9.5 hours straight with no breaks and no time to do school work. I REFUSE to come home after being at school for 9.5 hours and spend another 2 hours on my laptop doing worksheets for the next day. No way. That's my personal time. So, I explained the  basics of this to Jason, our boss, about me having no time and me teaching 5 classes every day. See, some of the other teachers only teach around 3 classes. I'm one of the most booked. Jason said it's because I'm popular and the kids love me, but then that feels like punishment for a job well done. Well, we had a meeting and he spoke a lot of Korean and my name came up alot. He told them to scratch my name off of a couple morning classes and then change the afternoon. I was happy about that.

Came in today and saw that basically, the morning schedule hadn't changed. My heart sank a bit, but then I saw that the afternoon schedule changed a lot. I went from working all afternoon to only one class on Mon and Wed. And then, of course, our director who wasn't involved in Jason's meeting yesterday (and I'm pretty sure hates me) walks in and realizes that oh, there are kids upstairs in a classroom waiting for a teacher and it's not on the schedule. So,  since I was the unfortunate bastard sitting there on the computer DOING WORK, which obviously means I have plenty of free time, she sends me in to teach an hour class of two kids. So after several images of me throwing myself out of my 2nd level apartment and probably only breaking several bones at best, I staggered upstairs. Of course, the book that the kids use is a sort of activity book that needs the audio CD it comes with. But, do you think anyone knows where the CD is? Of course not! That would be WAY too organized! So, I can't even teach the book because it's useless without the CD, so we ended up drawing dinosaurs and waiting for the bell to ring. In the mean time, one of my little students almost fell asleep with her head on the desk, which actually happens quite often. These kids go to school all day, and then their parents make them do more classes. They are exhausted. When they fall asleep in class, I let them sleep. Hell, I don't even want to be there and if I could safely sleep without getting caught, I so would.

So, taught my afternoon class- which I wasn't even supposed to teach Tues and Thurs because I supposedly teach it Mon and Wed. And now the mystery is, did the schedule get messed up and I really teach it Tues and Thurs and not Mon and Wed? Because, by the hand of Thor, I am NOT teaching 4 days a week. I already have to stay till 6:30 (30 minutes past contract time and everyone else gets to leave) to teach Benjamin who's 9 but extremely good at English. I don't mind him because he's smart and funny, and a bit of a cynic. We did a unit on the Cinderalla story and I asked if that kind of stuff happens in real life, to which he replied no, since a prince will have many women and not remember the girl. Ah, so young and yet so accurate. He also didn't want to read the words "love" and "kiss" in our book today. He said love is for when he's VERY VERY VERY old. I told him he might feel differently in 5 years. Either way, he's a good kid, but I feel like I get singled out to do all the work. My co-worker James even said yesterday to split the afternoon work evenly and give us all the same amount. So what happens? THey see empty spaces and try to send me away as the filler. I'm sick of that. I mean, if everyone was working the same amount I wouldn't feel so used. But since I have to do the majority of the crap, it pisses me off. I even came in early today to print worksheets. You see, there are like 15 of us teachers total, and 4 computers and 3 printers. THe printers take like 45 seconds-1 minute to print one page, and each of us has to print lesson plans every week for every class. So, let me tell you what I print. I have to make the lesson plans for Story Book for the 7 year olds. So, I print almost 30 of those (on the slow printer), and now the school wants worksheets for story book, which is 100 extra pages per week, plus I do pictures and print for 2 classes of Study Tour. So, that's ALOT of pages and that's just me. Not counting the extra little things I print out, like coloring sheets or activities for the kids. Now, multiply that by the number of teachers, and by the end of the week it's fight to the death for use of the computers and printers. **Sigh**

Enough of that.

My uniform looks AWFUL on me. First, the shirt is ruffled and looks like a frauline mated with a pirate. The cardigan is baggy and just hangs on me in the most unflattering ways, and the gray pants I got were way too big and hung off my hips. Because of that, the shirt wouldn't stay tucked in, so they probably got 20 good camera shots of me stading in the middle of class with my hands down my pants, which is generally never a good thing to do in a classroom of children. And oh, don't forget the brooch which is straight out of my great grandmother's closet of keepsakes given to her by a man, but she'd never actually be caught dead wearing. So, the other day while we are trying to run around and serve the kids lunch, a strange woman walks up to me and starts messing with my pants. It only took me a few seconds to realize that the woman trying to get to 2nd base was a seamstress, and she kept trying to ask me questions in Korean. She brings me to our storage room and one of the fellow teachers tells me that the seamstress wants me to go into the room and take off my pants. I will give you a moment to really appreciate this sceanrio....... Ok. So, knowing how terribly unorganized and choatic this culture can be, I first needed to see what they would give me to change into, since I'm certainly not going to go in to a storage room, hand over my pants, and be stuck in there pantless until found by a non-English speaking Korean searching for the broom. Well, I finally figured out that they didn't have pants for me. The woman drove all the way from Daegu (45 minutes) to get my pants from me and remeasure, but the school never told me. So, you could see the look in her eyes that screamed "Are you kidding me??" but I'm sure she could read it in mine. When we realized nothing could be done, she manually calculated how much adjusting the pants would need and disappeared, never to be heard from again. That was a few days ago. To my knowledge, my pants are still sitting on the front desk, with a cryptic post-it note written in Korean, waiting to be shipped off the seamstress. I'm not complaining though. I'm much more comfortable in a pair of my black dress pants, but nothing can change the fact that I look like the biggest dork in my costume. Oh, yeah, I call it a costume when I refer to it. So, any fantasies one might have about me being some exotic English teacher in a uniform is absolutely impossible. Oh, I probably do induce a bit of sexual fantasy, but it's safe to say I'm not the object of any of them. I'm more like the kinda dorky girl who accidentally knocks in to the insanely hot English teacher, causing her to fall over and her skirt to ride up, revealing her sexy long legs to the man who happens to be standing there and kindly offers to help her up.  As far as what happens next, that's all in your mind, not mine.

 

In the Beginning...

Well, I've been living here in South Korea for about a month and 2 weeks, but it feels like forever! So much happened in those first several weeks that my mind couldn't keep up. For the first couple weeks, I'd fall asleep at 9:30 at night and barely move until my alarm went off the next morning. Now, I've had a chance to recover and be at peace with my surroundings. Hence, the beginning of the blog at week 6....

I wont go into details about the first month, mostly because I've already blogged it on my personal MySpace blog, and I don't feel like typing it all again. It was mostly chaos, adjustment, frustration, and culture shock. So, here's an overview of my situation..

I teach at Jason Guy Language Institute, which is an English school for rich Korean children. It's mostly a joke, and I'm not sure the kids are learning as much as they could, due to poor organization on the school's end. I've already felt frustrated to no end on a thousand different topics, but I'm sure each one will pop up on it's own during the course of my 12-month blog.

The school is divided into age groups. There is one 4 year old class, three 5 year old classes, two 6 year olds classes, and four 7 year olds classes. The classes are divided according to how much English each individual student understands.The class I teach is called "Nightingale" and my students are 7 years old. Unfortunately, they are the lowest level of all the 7 year olds, and maybe even lower than most of the 5 and 6 year olds. They really don't speak English at all, except for a handful or words. I have 7 students. McQueen, Daniel, Richard, Harry, Ellie, Buna, and my least favorite, Konan. For the most part, I really like my kids and most of them like me too. Daniel, Harry, and Buna adore me, and call me "Julianna Teacher Beautiful Princess." They mostly call me this when I'm angry at their antics, or if I'm holding candy. Daniel especially is already a little player. When I have something he wants, he turns on the charm. Harry is quite the giver. He always kisses my hand, attached around my waist, gives me massages, etc. Yes, I know this sounds a little strange, especially to our American sensibilities concerning the way adult teachers should interact with their students. But, the school encourages us to touch the the children to build relationship. So, I allow hugs and massages that stay in appropriate areas, and I never initiate. It's good that there are cameras all over the school, but then at the same time, you're being watched when you teach, and I hate that. They can't hear what's being said, so a couple times I've been teaching a class, and one by one the student's will finish their work. I will check their work and tell them to put their books and colored pencils away, and then they can go play with the games and blocks. Well, all the cameras can see is kids getting up, one by one, and playing in the corner. So, they've come into my room asking what's going on, and then I have to use basic English to explain it's not anarchy, the kids have finished so they have permission to play. I'm sure the school doesn't like that I only make the kids work for about 20 out or 30  minutes, but they are kindergarten age children! They are in school from 9am-3pm with no nap time and no time to go outside and play. They have class after class where we are throwing these concepts in their faces, so I don't mind giving them a bit of a mental break.

I find myself growing in my frustration with the school, but at least I'm not alone. There are 6 of us foreign teachers. James, Patrick, and Mary are from South Africa; John is from England; and Mirranda is from Texas. We are getting a new teacher from somewhere in the US in May, but we don't know any details other than that. We stick together and try to support each other in our growing frustration with the school.

My aptartment is a studio. It's small, but cozy. I have a corner apartment. Of course, it was quite strange when I first got here. I have no shower, only a shower head next to the sink and a drain in the floor. At first, showering was a bizarre and unpleasant experience. Now, it's no big deal. Still not glamorous, but hey, I've accepted that my stay in a foreign country wont be a glamorous experience for me.  Meaning, I don't look or feel it. But hey, thats ok. I have no dryer, so when my clothes are finished washing, I hang them in my laundry room on the provided poles. I will shoot some video soon giving a tour of my apt, since it's hard to describe how everything works. I have a stove top, but no oven. I finally bought a toaster oven yesterday, so I can't wait to use it! the problem is, there are no electrical outlets by my counters in my tiny kitchen. So, i will have to plug in my toaster oven on the floor across from my cabinets. Very poorly designed. I don't have really any furniture in my apt except for a tv on a shelf thing and a bed which is as hard as a rock. It's definitely not up to our American ideals of comfort. But, after a long day of wanting to kill myself, any bed will do. My fridge finally has food in it too, but I'm not a chef by any means and I've never been into food.

There are plenty of activities to keep you busy. Well, not in Gumi, mind you, but I've recently discovered SHOPPING. Everything you buy is dirt cheap. This weekend, I got a pair of sexy custom heels from a boutique for roughly 30 bucks, a track suit (they are BIG into their track suits) for 35 bucks, a sexy black purse that matches the shoes for 14 bucks, and a cute little day backpack/purse for 14 bucks. It's amazing how much stuff you can buy, and when I'm shopping in the endless stores, I feel like I never want to leave Korea. For a girl who's never cared for shopping, I sure am enjoying myself. It's different though when you finally have money, and everything is a steal! We take the trains to Daegu and Seoul, so we can get more variety and interaction. Gumi is ok, but not big and not as much offered. We've hit up a few bars and I've already met tons of foreigners. They all stick together. You have to. Koreans still aren't used to seeing foreigners, so anywhere you go you get stared at by the people. The older people will stare at you half curious, half suspicious while the younger crowd will yell "HI!" and wave at you. You get used to it, but it still feels like being an animal in a zoo.

This is enough for now, and a good start. I will continue to blog and post pictures and video. Stay with me!