My Job as I See it Having Lived in Korea for 4 Months and some Odd Days

My job is to teach English to Korean children.

The qualifications for my job, and other jobs that are like it, is to finish elementary, middle, and high school in an English speaking country and then to get a bachelor's degree from a college or university in an English speaking country. Also, during that time you should avoid getting caught stealing things or smoking things that are illegal to smoke.

The reason my job, and all the others like it, exist is because English is the most important language in the world. It's the most important language in world because the United States is currently the most important country in the world, and that's what they mostly speak there.

Before the United States, England was the most important country. They also speak English there. That's where they thought it up, in fact. But now, sometimes, people who speak English from countries that are not England have a difficult time understanding what English people are saying because they have accents and they use slang that nobody but people from England use.

The reason that there are many jobs in Korea for English speakers to become teachers of English is because Koreans want to learn English. I think they want to learn it because it's currently the most important language in the world, and not for many other reasons.

For instance, I don't think they particularly care about how nice English sounds.

Many Koreans also learn Japanese, Chinese, and German. They probably learn Japanese and Chinese because they are close to these countries, and because so many people in the world speak Chinese. More people speak Chinese than English, in fact.

But Chinese is not currently the most important language, so it's less popular for Koreans to learn Chinese.

I don't know why they want to learn German. Maybe I'll ask them that sometime.

Koreans are required to take English class in public schools these days, similar to how public schools in the United States that are nearby Mexico require the students to take Spanish classes. Similar to many of the students in the United States who are required to take Spanish classes, many of the Korean students who are required to take English classes don't really want to learn English, and they don't try very hard.

There are English “hagwons” all over the place here. You can hardly throw a stick without hitting at least two of them. Hagwon roughly translates to the word “academy” in English, but there isn't really an equivalent sort thing in the United States. Maybe a better translation would be “after school program.”

There are all kinds of hagwons in Korea: some are for piano, some are for Taekwondo, but the most popular kind is for English.

Some families in Korea have lots of money, and some of those families that have lots of money want to send their kids to English hagwons. So what this means is that instead of going home after school, the kids go to an English hagwon, like the one that I work for, where they have more school.

Many of the kids who have to go to hagwons after school are probably thinking “Wow, I have a lot of work to do!” But then again, maybe they don't, because so many kids in Korea are doing the same thing.

Similar to classes in a public school, many of the students in English hagwons don't really want to learn English, and are only there because their parents made them go.

Some of the students want to learn English, or maybe they are thinking “I'm going to be here every day after school, I might as well try to learn English.” They probably aren't thinking that thought in English though, because then they probably wouldn't need to go to an English hagwon.

My job is to come to the hagwon every weekday, and then stand at the front of a classroom with between three and ten children in it, and then to talk at them in English.

This is also sometimes called “teaching English.”

Most of them don't understand the majority of what I say to them, but usually there is one kid in the class that understands enough, or one kid will guess correctly what I'm trying to tell them, and then I can point to that kid and say “Yes, do this.”

I usually give that kid a thumbs-up when I say that, because in Korea a thumbs-up means basically the same as it does in the United States, and the kids will understand that I think that kid was doing a good job.

Often times the students will not do anything close to what I told them to do in English. Sometimes this is because they can't understand what I'm talking about, and sometimes it's because they don't want to do what I'm talking about. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell the difference between these two things, so sometimes I discipline the students when they don't understand me, and sometimes I don't discipline them when they are deliberately not doing what I'm talking about.

The reason I discipline the students is because I think that if I don't discipline them that they won't respect me and the other teachers will think I'm too soft on them, and they won't respect me either.

One way I discipline the students is by making a disobedient student stand with both of their arms straight up. This is supposed to embarrass the student. It might also tire them out from keeping their arms up if they have to do it for a long time. This is something I only use on students who have disrupted class in a way that my usual methods can't control.

My usual method of controlling the behavior of my students is by writing the word “stick” on the whiteboard at the beginning of class. By now, all of my classes know that “stick” is short for “stickers.” They also know that if anyone in the class does something to throw off the order of class, I will erase one letter. I will also add letters if they are being well-behaved, or if they are trying to answer my questions.

I very rarely erase all the letters, and I try not to erase too many, because sometimes the students will start to give up if they see the class is losing too many letters, and when that happens it means that I've lost a lot of leverage with them.

I write the word “stick” on a whiteboard about five times a day, or twenty-five times a week.

I have more than five classes a day, but the reason I only write “stick” five times is because I don't write it on the board for the preschool classes. The preschool classes all have their individual names permanently affixed to the whiteboard. They have a running tally each day that records how many stickers they will be awarded at the end of that day.

There are no real stickers. The name comes from a folder they have that's called “Sticker Book.” What I think is that originally my bosses thought that they and all the teachers would be giving out stickers to fill the sticker books. But stickers are expensive and they are hard to peel off sticker sheets in the quantity that they would need to be pulled off in order to distribute them to all the students who earned them.

So instead of stickers, the kids get stars drawn with a red pen or sometimes a red crayon (I've even done it with a black pen before when there was nothing red handy). Recently I have been drawing circles instead of stars because circles are much easier to draw. Only a few of the students complained about that. I usually give them stars if they ask for stars, but most students don't seem to care.

They also don't seem to care that they don't get any real stickers in their sticker book. I think that if I was a kid, I would care about this. I think a lot of them probably don't know what “sticker” means. They probably think it means red star or circle (or black, in a pinch).

One time a kid in my class spoke after I had just told everyone “No more talking, or I'm going to take away a sticker”. So I had to take away a sticker even though I didn't want to. I don't like taking away stickers to begin with, and in this situation I especially didn't want to do it because I thought this was one of those situations where he didn't understand what I was saying.

But I felt I needed to take away a sticker, because I knew the kids who I really did want to be quiet understood what I meant when I said “No more talking, or I'm going to take away a sticker,” because they were immediately quiet after I had said that. I felt that if I didn't take away sticker now, they would think that I was soft, and next time they might keep talking when I want them not to.

So I erased a sticker. Everyone in class knew whose fault it was, and the two kids who I had wanted to be quiet decided to go up to the one who talked and punch him in the head. So they did that. They must have thought that although I didn't want them to speak, I was okay with them physically attacking each other. I wasn't, so I took away all of their stickers.

Some kids really like their red stars or circles.

If you are a Korean student at the hagwon I work at, what you do with the red stars and circles is this: you save them up and save them up until “sticker day” happens. This happens twice every six months, or four times a year. When this happens, you can trade your stickers for play money. You can use the play money to buy snack foods, play games, or buy toys.

It seems pretty silly to me, and I sometimes wonder why the students get so crazy about collecting these completely made-up things, and then I remember that money is pretty much the exact same thing, but for grown-ups. That doesn't help me understand it any better, but it does make me acknowledge that the sticker collecting never really stops, not for most people, and not for me.

Every month, my bosses pay me 2.2 million won. Won is what the grown-ups in Korea use for stickers. 1200 won is worth about one US dollar (the dollar is what people in the United States use for stickers. It's generally thought of as the most powerful and dependable sticker in the world, and that probably has something to do with English currently being the most important language in the world).

My bosses also pay the rent for my apartment, which is a very good thing for me, because I would have no idea how to pay my rent otherwise.

There are several things I don't know about, like what my mailing address is, or even the name of the building that I live in. When I describe where I live to people, I just tell them about the restaurant at the bottom of the building, which is called Jjokki-Jjokki. I tell them that I live on the fifth floor of the Jjokki-Jjokki building.

They seem to know what I mean.

Some Green Class Poetry

We smell with our nose knees.

I am a owl baby.
-Tony

Death steals upon us when we least expect it.

A wonder lasts but nine days.
-Sara

Today I learned a one leg fight.
How can I learned this game?
Sometimes I win and
Sometimes I lose.
I'm So angry
because I lose the game.
I can't win my sister.
next time I will win her
my sister is very strongest.
-Tom

The hachdog, by Tom (Green Class, age 8)

The hachdog has a blood.

She's the hachdog and I cry.

Because My hachdog is very sick.

Under Attack

I'm fine.

Yesterday the North Koreans fired artillery at Yeonpyeong Island. The news does a better job explaining these things.

Nothing has changed in my world. I've brought it up with my students in some of my older classes. Most of them seem pretty unfazed about it. Considering a ship filled with South Korean soldiers was sunk several months ago, this is relatively small I think.

I'll let you all know if anything happens else happens, although you'll probably hear about it from somewhere else first.

Jungle Fish

So when I first got here, I used to go this diner near my house almost every night. I would always go at the same time, and they'd always be playing a Korean drama/soap opera. It's set sometime in the middle ages - everyone is wearing these flowing blue robes. I can't understand the words, but it's pretty easy to understand the show. The actors expressions tell you exactly what you should be feeling at any given time. It's chalk full of meaningful glances, furrowed brows, and really wide open surprised eyes.

The main character of the show is my favorite: he has the really wide open surprised eyes down pat. He can open his eyes wider and fill them with more surprise than I've seen by any actor in the States (possible exception: Mel Gibson in Hamlet).

The other day I was at Whoever, my favorite local coffee joint, talking with my friend Michelle. She told me she knows a TV star who is looking for a female English teacher to help him with his new role as an English teacher on the popular Korean high school drama "Jungle Fish." I told her about Bettina, and a few texts later we arranged a meeting.

The four of us met yesterday at Whoever. The TV star introduced himself by his nickname "Simba" (like from the Lion King). He offered to take us to dinner, so we went to a nearby seafood place. We ate some live octopus, and many other ocean creatures.

Simba showed us some pictures from his TV shows, and - lo and behold - he's the main character from the soap opera I used to watch! I didn't recognize him at first without his traditional clothing and without his moustache and goatee.

Simba's writing a show about a foreign girl and a Korean man, so I told Simba all about the play I starred in as a ten year old, hoping he could make some room for a foreign guy somewhere in there.

So now I have new goal in Korea: weasel my way into writing/acting for Korean TV. (I'm only mostly joking about that).

Two Crashes

First I crashed somebody's birthday party. In my defense, I had no idea I was going to a birthday party, or that me and my friend would be the only guests there for the first thirty minutes.

In either case, our hosts were real good sports about it. I didn't know either of them - I was there with my friend who plays soccer with the guy. It was that guy's wife's b-day. They're late late 30s. He might be 40 years old. He's British and his wife is Korean. They live in a nice condo with their 5 or 6 year old son, and her 12 year-old daughter from her first marriage.

As the party progressed, more guests showed up. Every one of them was either British, or a Korean married to a Brit (all the Koreans were women and the Brits were dudes). They were all at least few years older than my friend and I.

Sometime later we were in a cab. The cab driver had tried to take us to the wrong place, and was now driving like a maniac to get us to Hongdae. He merged without looking and grazed another taxi. They pulled over and the other driver started yelling at our driver, who was clearly at fault. We couldn't leave, and soon a policeman showed up. He asked my friend and I if we were "sick" (sick and hurt have the same word in Korean, so sometimes Koreans say sick when they mean hurt).

We weren't. It was only a slight bump, and neither car had not so much as a scratch on them. However, we were told that if we felt "sick" tomorrow, we could call the police station. We considered calling the next day in order to shake some money out of the cab company, but we didn't. We're just really honest people.

Pepero Day

11/11 was Pepero Day. Students bring in thin cookie sticks dipped in chocolate called pepero for their friends and teachers.

You're probably wondering more about pepero: who makes it, where can I get some, and why is it a holiday? Pepero Day was invented by the Korean company Lotte. The Lotte company are also the only ones who make the "real" pepero sticks. I don't know where you can buy pepero unless you have an Asian market near your house, or you want to order some online. They're pretty good, but probably not worth your trouble.

Anyway, on Pepero Day, students, teachers, and anyone near a school, eats a ton of pepero that day and for the next few days.

Kimchi and so forth

This weekend I studied Korean for a little and then taught an art class with Yung-he. Immediately after that, a Korean man I had not met before took me to his family's house on Ganghwa island, where I met my coworker Bettina. We ate like kings and drank like Koreans (except for the soju at breakfast time - we both passed on that).

Yung-he's art class. It was Barney Bear's Birthday Party. "Birthday? Birthday. Today is Barney Bear's Birthday. Surprise, surprise for me!" (I sung that. Apparently dignity does not follow you when you come to Korea).

Grating the turnips.

The purpose of our visit was to participate in making kimchi - the traditional Korean side dish. We helped a little (Bettina probably a lot more than I, since she got there way before I did), but for the most part, the Koreans had their system, and we only got in the way.

The woman on the right was described as the "neighborhood grandmother." She didn't take kindly to the idea of me making kimchi. She actually yelled "hajima!" "Stop it!" when I started. Haegyeon smiled at me, and encouraged me to keep going, but I felt awkward crossing the neighborhood grandma, so I stopped shortly after. Also, she was scrutinizing my kimchi quite closely - no cabbage I seasoned was seasoned good enough for her liking. Her main objection to me was that I am a man, and men should not be doing the kitchen work. As soon as Haegyeon told me this, I said "What about him?" and pointed to her father in law. "It's okay. Grandmother age man."

Although maybe it was that they just didn't want our inexperienced hands on their precious supply of kimchi, because they figured out a way to get Bettina out of there too not long after me.

In the outdoor picture with the two kids, you can see Haegyeon on the left, her kids Jay and Ryan (their English names - I never learned their Korean names), and her husband on the right. Haegyeon is the only person whose name Bettina and I could remember through the duration of the trip, which I feel a little bad about because I spent so much time bonding with her husband on the drive up. We were behind a truck full of Korean military. He told me that he was still in the military, as all Korean men are required to do at some point, and that didn't really enjoy it. He was telling me that the soldiers we were following were going to be performing reconnaissance missions on North Korea.

Seoraksan

I climbed Seoraksan with some friends yesterday. Seoraksan translates to "Dinosaur Mountain." I don't know what fascination Koreans seem to have with dinosaurs, but I like it.

We got up at 3:20 AM, and we were at the base of the mountain by 4:30 AM. We were in darkness for the first couple hours of the hike. We were just reaching the first peak by the time the sun rose (around 7 AM).

It started raining - not very hard, but enough to make the ground wet. I was wearing my five finger shoes, which were not perfect for the weather. They don't really have any traction. When we reached the next big peak at around 11, it started snowing. It was the first snowfall in South Korea this year, but it was hard to appreciate this at the time. I was wearing only two shirts, and they were soaked through. At this time, our party of five split up. I went back down the mountain with two others, while the other two went on the longer trail.

I slipped at the top of a metal staircase, and fell forward down three stairs, but the mountain gods were with me, because I caught myself without getting hurt. We finally got down at around 1 PM, and the other two got back at around 3:30. It was the stupidest, and coolest thing I've done here.

The Neon Cross

I've been sitting outside this cafe for less than two hours, and I've been approached three times by Christian recruiters. They are Korean and they mostly only know a few words in English, so it's a nice chance to practice my Korean. I even agreed to meet one of them tomorrow, but I was bait-and-switched, which I realized when ten minutes later she came back with her perfect English speaking male friend, who will be meeting me tomorrow instead of her.

Christianity is pretty big here, and I can't figure out why. Yes, Jesus died for everyone's sins, but it just seems so far removed from this place. At the time Jesus was alive, no one from that world had ever even heard of Korea, and vice versa. So I wonder what about the message of christianity speaks to the Korean people?

Whatever it is, it speaks loudly. Seoul has the largest church in the world, according to a google search I just did! There is even a church on my street. The crucifixes here are always neon.

I think most, if not all, of the Korean teachers at my school are devout christians. I've arrived early to work on a few occasions, and had to stand awkwardly while they prayed together. I've noticed they also quietly pray for few seconds before they eat.

I'm neither for nor against, I'm just really curious. I wonder how the bible translates? I suppose they get the best translators they can possibly get for a job like that. Even still, with the amount of screwy Konglish I see on a daily basis, I just know there must be some similar mistranslations in their bible (which is written in an atypical form of English to begin with). Also, there are some words and ideas that can't be translated.

I guess the big ideas can be translated, though. Who knows?

Oatmeal at last!

If you complain about not having any oatmeal to enough people, eventually you will complain to a person who has too much oatmeal, and he'll give you some for free. That's what happened to me, and I couldn't be happier.

I've been eating oatmeal again for two days now. It's great! I don't even care that it's the big oat kind, and not the finer, instant kind. I'm just happy that I have oatmeal.

Even though I have oatmeal now, I still would like someone to send me oatmeal because my current supply won't last for very long - not with the amount of oatmeal that I eat - and I would also ask that they send me the instant kind. A tube of Quakers goes for about $13 here, and you have to travel far distances to get it!

The Sax Player

Last night a few of us went wandering. We flipped coins to determine what street to go down. We ended up at a place with flashing lights, and stairs leading to the basement. On the way down, there were photographs of a man who looks vaguely like Kim Jung Il, playing the sax and singing.

At the bottom of the stairs was a strange room. There were big sofas, a disco ball, and a stage with drums, microphones, a saxophone, and speakers.

We were the only ones there. We ordered some beers, and I pointed to the stage and asked "When?" That's when we saw the man from the pictures. He went to the stage and started up the equipment. He asked us if we spoke Korean, and we said a little.

He started speaking to us in Korean, which none of us could understand. Finally we heard a word that we recognized: "nori." "I think he wants us to sing," I said.

We had barely begun our first beer of the night, so none of us were too eager to get on stage yet. But the Korean man was on stage, and he wasn't leaving. He waited there, with the mic in his hand, and the silence in the room was heavy. Finally, Logan and I went up.

"Mual Nori?" he asked. What song? I said Johnny Cash, and we sang "Ring of Fire" for our two other friends and the other Korean employee, with the old man backing us up with his sax.

Skip ahead several minutes, and I was on stage with Andrew and Jerri. I was wearing a wig, and the other two had on a mask and a hat. We were half way through the song, when I felt something wet descending on me. The air was full of white bubbles. Behind us was the old man, who had taken a brief interlude from his sax playing to spray us down with bubbles. There was nothing to do but finish the song.

Logan did a solo of "My Heart Will Go On" and then we left. All in all, we were only there about half an hour, but it was one the weirder experiences I've had here.

Tae Kwon Do

I didn't think it would be possible, but I've become even more busy. I took up Tae Kwon Do last week, although I'm still on the fence about continuing. I need a good way to stay fit during the winter, which it will certainly do (they meet Monday through Thursday, and the workout is pretty intense). I could care less about the fighting and self-defense aspect of it, although I suppose it can't hurt to know a little about that stuff.

There are a few Koreans who teach at the Tae Kwon Do place, as well as a Canadian black belt named Brendan. Brendan also happens to be Andrew and Logan's boss - it's a small world here. I had heard a lot about Brendan before I met him last Monday.

When you enter the training place (the dojo, or whatever Koreans call it), it is necessary to salute to the Korean flag. Brendan asked me if I was okay with that, being an American. I asked him why I wouldn't be, and he told me that it's illegal for Americans (U.S. citizens) to salute foreign flags. I told him it would be all right.

Brendan seems like a proud Canadian man, and I think he enjoys creating an atmosphere of friendly rivalry between countries. Perhaps to his disappointment, I didn't play into it. I really don't care too much about a lot of things.

On Monday, Bettina and I had to pose for a Break Away advertisement. They put us with some of the kids, and took some pictures. One of the kids, Tina, never smiles. Jinna told her to smile a few times, and then eventually replaced her with a happier looking kid.

I had to go in to work today (Saturday) to meet with the parents. It was pretty easy, especially since they don't speak much English. I talked about their kids, and then Jinna translated (taking some big liberties with what I said - she spoke for about three times as long as did).

I like to think I'm starting to get the hang of teaching. I'm never sure about anything I do, because almost nothing I ever do is monitored, and the few times it is, I never really receive any feedback besides, "Great." And the way they, whoever they may be, say "great" sounds a lot like there are a bunch of other things on their mind. But all of my nagging insecurities aside, I do feel like things are coming along a little bit. In particular, one of my most out of control classes has become one of my most well-behaved classes. I write the word "stickers" on the board, and every time someone gets out of their seat without asking, or talks out of turn, or throws a pencil across the room, I erase a letter. If they're being really good, I add a letter. At the end, I give them stickers equal to the remaining letters. Now I actually have moments in class that aren't devoted to discipline, and I wonder what to do! Teach them something, I suppose. Now I just need to figure out how to do that.

I know I can't expect to be the greatest teacher in only 2 months. At least I know I must be doing better than the guy before me, who was let go at the end of 2 months.

Global Gathering Festival

I went to a DJ concert in Seoul yesterday. It was pretty spectacular.

I heard about it through a guy named Alex, who was on my soccer team back in Tucson maybe fifteen years ago or so. I went with two of my friends, Eric and Helen, and we met Alex and his girlfriend Gahyeon at the place.

The concert started at 2 PM, and was set to finish at 4 AM - a fourteen hour jam. We didn't make it there until 9, just as the three biggest artists of the night were about to play: Justice, followed by Fatboy Slim, followed by Armin van Bureen.

Lots of Jager Bombs later, and I was having a pretty fun time. All the artists were good, but Fatboy Slim definitely stole the show from Armin. Here are some poorly planned, out-of-focus pictures to illustrate the night:

Songdo Park

Today we went on a field trip to an amusement park in Songdo. It was slightly run-down, and nearly deserted. At night, it would probably be really creepy.



Hazards abound; in the middle of the path, there was an open hole to some kind of water-control device. A few kids nearly took a spill in that.



A man with a bicycle followed us from ride to ride, and started them up for us (there were not enough people at the park to justify having an entire person manning each ride).



Bettina and I hid candy in the bushes and trees while the kids were eating lunch. There was also a lot of trash in the bushes. Later, the kids would search the bushes and the trash for candy. The candy they didn't find would become the new trash.



Jun, the smallest and the youngest, somehow managed to find the biggest candies. Tina and Alex couldn't find any candy, and we didn't have the foresight to save any pieces for this scenario, so we bribed the other kids with stickers to share their candy.



They were piping in music somewhere in the park, but only in that one location. They were playing the theme to Beverly Hills Cop, which is now the tune of a K-Pop song called "Champion." Linda and I sang it together.



Back at school, while waiting to go back inside, I picked a leaf from a tree and gave it to Minnie. "Here Minnie, I got this for you." I picked a few more and gave them out. Soon, all the students were getting their own leaves, and fanning themselves with them.

Tony's World

Tony is a funny kid, and by that I mean he's strange. He's one of the seven year olds. He slips under your radar at first, but if you look closely, you'll notice that he's always there, being super weird. One day, everyone drew pictures of what they wanted to be when they grow up. Nearly all the boys want to be police officers (Danny wants to be a doctor, and Kevin wants to be an actor), and all the girls want to be either a figure skater, or a ballet dancer. Some want to be both. So what about Tony? Tony wants to be a person. Nothing more or less.

Instead of drawing a lovely, childish picture, bubbling over with innocence and aspiration, Tony drew a disturbingly bleak black and white picture of himself, alone in a room. In the corner is a small chair, which he later tried to erase, but the imprint remains. Underneath him is a mess of squiggly lines. Do they represent confusion? Thwarted dreams? The angst and doubt embedded in every young man's soul? I don't know.

When questioned, Tony had this to say: "Monsterrr!!" And then he started making robot moves, as he so often does.

The Video Camera

Minnie and Jun (shown in pictures) have been having problems. One day, they both managed to fall asleep and wet themselves in class. Minnie's mom has already been causing problems for Jinhwa and Jason by aggressively monitoring her children's progress at the hagwon.

The musical today was "A Christmas Carol." Minnie's mother wanted to come and watch it, but the staff didn't allow it. There was a sort of compromise. I had a video camera, and I shot the whole event. I was trying to shoot all the kids, but Jinhwa told me "Just get a close-up of Minnie." So I got right up next to Minnie (who is shy to begin with) and held the camera by her face. "This feels a little weird," I thought.

But of course it gets weirder.

The rest of the students went back to class - all except Minnie and Johnny Appleseed (who was playing Santa Claus). It was me and Cali (Korean Teacher). Cali fed Minnie her lines, and I got all of her very reluctant delivery on video. As a reward, the participating children were given candy.

Now when I play "Never have I ever," I'll lose a point when someone goes for "Never have I bribed children to say things while video-taping them."

Teacher, Checking Please!

I think one of the more annoying parts of my job is that I need to check the preschoolers' work during class. I try to have all the students work at the same pace, so that I can just go around one time and "check" everything.

For this, I typically draw a big red circle (the Korean equivalent to a check mark) with my red pen on the page in their workbook . But the students, especially the ones in the older class, began to request special notations. At first, they started with hearts and stars to replace the ordinary circle. Things spiralled out of control in the following weeks.

Next, they would ask for diamonds and triangles, so I drew those too. Then they wanted combos (both together). "Heart star!" Paul would cry, or "Diamond circle!" Sarah would demand.

I was feeling playful one day, so I suggested "Do you want an ice cream cone?" They loved it. Soon, every kid wanted an ice cream cone or a double ice cream cone on their paper. This opened the gates. They were past basic shapes now. Today, some of the requests I got included:
"Ice cream cone, candy, chocolate bar!"

"Gold and silver!" (I just drew bars for these)

"Heart, diamond, ice cream cone, candy, star!"

"Table!"

"Orange juice!" (this was my favorite)

Vacation

I had Tuesday through Sunday off from work for Chuseok, Korean Thanksgiving. I went to an island off the coast of Incheon called Deok Jeok Do. There were about ninety English teachers in our group, which was organized by IFX. We rented out an entire four-story motel for two nights. Here were some of the highlights:

1. Hiking and bouldering along the coast of Deok Jeok Do, and jumping into the ocean from a tall rock we found.
2. Singing my heart out at the local norebang (karaoke room).
3. Burning myself with a roman candle.
4. Hiking down a mountain at sunset, and nearly killing ourselves as we walk down the trail in the dark. At the end, we entered a bamboo forest which was nearly pitch black.
5. Sleeping on the floor every night.
6. Bonfire.
7. Playing Kings.
8. Meeting a lot of cool English teachers from all over.

I got back home, had a Korean lesson, and then went directly to a baseball game. My old suitemate from Pitzer, Nick, is here in Korea on Fulbright scholarship. We met up for the game, and had a pretty fun night afterwards, finally ending up at yet another norebang.

The next day, several of us made our way to Seoul to do siteseeing. We saw a famous prison, made by the Japanese to hold Korean resistance members. Our tour guide was Roy, a ten-year old Korean kid who lived in Las Vegas for some period of time and spoke nearly perfect English. He led our group of about eight twenty-somethings around for about an hour.

My Seoul trip ended with a delicious burger and an 8,000 won draft Guiness.

Pictures again

Outside my front door. Dino Meat is that blurry white sign.

My washing machine. Jinna helped me figure out what each button does.

The view from my window.

My bathroom.

Home sweet home! Is that a TV and a microwave on the floor that haven't even been plugged in yet?

The perfect way to start out the day, with some "Ah-moan-duh (almond) who-lay- ee-kuh (flake?)"

More Pictures

Sex Ed Class

Look how excited the Americans are to be in this sex ed class.

Angela and Sara,

Jason, the boss-man

Sophie

Left to right: Linda, Sophie, Sally, Jun

Making rice-cakes. I'm obviously an expert at this.

Me, looking very teacher-like. Not shown: the three students who are wandering around the room despite my ineffective threats.

Pictures

Sara

Minnie. I don't know that snowman.

Jun, Minnie's little brother

Every Thursday morning is gym.

A birthday party that Jason couldn't be more excited about.

Top row: Cali, Me, Jason, Jinna, Bettina

Bottom: Alex, Katie (Alex's twin), Sara, Angela

Johnny Appleseed and company

Johnny Appleseed is a 6-year old Korean kid with a mullet. As you can imagine, he's the greatest. He can't speak a word of English, but nevertheless J.A. never fails to have an enormous grin across his ridiculous, mulleted head. Whenever you address him as merely "Johnny," he and the rest of the class rightfully protests with cries of "Johnny Applesee-eeed!!" When you finally say his full name, he lights up with that grin of his, and looks around at his classmates, completely ignoring whatever reason it was you addressed him in the first place.

Larry is an extremely shy kid at first. He would not speak to me, and would actually hide from me. But by the end of my first week, he was following me around everywhere and feeling my beard. Although I've since gotten rid of my beard, he still wants to feel my hair whenever possible. One day I noticed that he had his nails painted. I asked him about it and he laughed as he does about most things. Larry speaks English very well for his age, but I've only ever heard him speak it on the phone. In class and at school, he almost never talks. He lives with his grandparents, and other teachers speculate that his grandfather might hit him.

Sara and Angela love me. They run up to me and hold my hand whenever they can. If another student tries to hold my hand, they will fight them. It's adorable, but too much. They are my favorites, but I don't want everyone else to know.

Andy

Andy is a kid in my phonics class. He has a disability. I think he's autistic. Last class, I told all the students to finish the page, and then we'd go over the answers together. Probably, none of the students understood me, but if I just keep repeating something and pointing, then they usually get the message. Or they don't, and they copy their neighbors.

Andy didn't understand and this made him very upset. He yelled a couple of times, and then he started crying. I'm still not completely comfortable when a child bursts out crying in my class (it happens a few times every week). I usually try to judge whether the kid is likely to stop crying soon, or whether they're going to keep doing it and become a distraction. If they're going to keep crying, I get a Korean teacher to help. In Andy's case, I knew I definitely needed help. Andy went with the Korean teacher, and returned ten minutes later. In another three minutes, he was bawling again.

Gender Class

Every Friday we have a different special event. When I asked one of the Korean teachers what today was going to be, she said "Gender class." I asked what that meant, and she told me it had to do with boys and girls, and that a professional teacher was coming.

I thought to myself that there was no way it could be what I was thinking it could be. But that's exactly what it was.

The lesson was in Korean, but there was no misinterpreting the meaning of the life-size cloth dolls, complete with all the parts that real people have. The lesson started with a video of a 3D cartoon boy and girl dancing. All I was thinking was "Please don't let them strip."

They didn't. But later the video showed a picture of sperm racing towards an egg, and various stages of pregnancy.

It was really funny, and I can't help but think the 4 year olds might be a bit too young for it, but the kids seemed to handle it pretty well. All in all, it seemed like it might be a more sane approach to sex ed than the States. Discuss.

Dino Meat

A new restaurant opened up across the street called "Dino Meat."

Back when the only thing I knew about this place was the name, I still knew it was going to be the best restaurant of all time. Now that I have actually had the opportunity to go, I can confirm that it is the best restaurant of all time.

Every table has a charcoal grill built into it. 14 bucks gets you unlimited meat. We're not talking about Country Kitchen Buffet or any crappy all-you-can-eat joint in the US. This is top notch meat. You take your tray up to the "Dino Meat Freezer" and load it up with marinated pork tenderloin, or paper-thin pork shavings, or steak, or whatever you want. Most of these meats rank up there with the best meat I've eaten - also, you get to eat them the moment they're cooked - none of that heat lamp BS.

The sides are also free and unlimited.

New Teacher

Andrew left last week, and was replaced the next day by a new full-time teacher named Bettina. Great news for me, as Andrew was part time, and that meant I was doing 10-11 hour days in August. Now I work less hours. Also, Bettina seems like a great teacher (she's been teaching children in Korea for one year already) and I can probably learn a lot from her.

I can finally read Korean! (although very slowly).

Here's how I would write Tom in Korean (Hangul): 텀

The "터" makes the "Taw" sound, and the "ㅁ" on the bottom makes the "m" sound. Pretty simple, eh? Everything in hangul always makes the same sound (no silent "e" or "ph" "th" etc. sounds that make English so difficult), so it is easy to learn how to read and write. Although I can read, it is still mostly gibberish to me.

On Saturday, my Korean tutor, Yunghe, took me to see Insadong - the old city. There is a statue of King Sejong, who is credited with inventing the written language of Korea.

Marbless

I was at the bowling alley with Andrew and some other English teachers. I was in the middle of bowling a 46, when a guy started hanging up a banner near our lane. Only the second half of the banner was visible, and we could read "less." Everyone started making guesses as to what the banner was going to say - would it say "fearless"? Then a "b" was revealed, making "bless". Could the message be "God bless"?

All at once, the rest of the banner was revealed: "Marbless."

"Well, no one could have seen that coming," said Jake.

Marbless. What did it mean? Was it simply a mispelling of "marbles", and if so, the question is raised as to why they would have a banner saying "marbles" at a bowling alley?

Saying it out loud, we found that it was also possibly a mispelling of "marvelous".

Above "marbless", in smaller letters, was the message "Since 2008," which adds further intrigue. It lead me to guess that perhaps we were thinking about marbless all wrong. What if it wasn't a mispelling at all. What if it was saying that they were Marb-less, or lacking "marb," since 2008?

What is marb? This we will never know.

Angela

Last Friday I was at the grocery store near work picking up some candy for the kids, when I felt someone tugging at my basket. It was Angela, one of the 8 year olds. She doesn't speak very much English, but she likes to jump a lot and wave her arms. She is easily within the top three cutest students I teach, which is an extremely competitive category.

Angela's mom was surprised to see me too, and waved and said hello. I bought my stuff and was ready to leave when Angela ran up to me and said "Wait!", so I did. She brought me an ice cream bar, which her mom paid for. She had one too, and we ate them together.

After school I went for a run, and as I was walking into my building, who should I see bursting from the restaurant next door, and hitting the elevator button but Angela! Probably the last person I would ever expect to see. She saw me and did her jumping waving dance, without seeming the least bit surprised that I was there. She told me she was going to sing (the second floor of my building is a Nori-Bang - Karaoke room). Her mom came out of the restuarant a moment later, probably the most surprised of all. To her, it probably seems like I've been stalking her child, so I felt like I needed to explain that I live in the building.

Tricks of the Trade

Jinna gave me a bag of M&Ms to help the 4 year olds do their work. Sally will rarely even look my way when I say her name, but if I say M&M, she pays attention. I sit across from them with the bag of M&Ms, and I put one M&M out for each of them. If they are doing work, I slide the M&M closer to them, and make a big deal about it. If they're not doing work, I slide the M&M back towards the bag. It works well about half the time, which is a lot more than I get from not using this trick. I still feel weird about making 4 year olds do "work."

Another tactic is the countdown. If kids are out of their seats, or generally misbehaving, starting a countdown from 5 or 3 will make them respond almost every single time. It's pretty unbelievable.

Of course, the stickers are the real incentive. Every kid has a book of stickers which the teachers can add to if they are being good. Sometimes the stickers are recorded by a tally on the board - which is an even greater power because the teacher can remove the stickers if they are bad. Jason believes in using a group tactic - he makes the students discipline each other by denying stickers if even one student is out of line.

I caught two kids in my class forging stickers (stickers can also substituted with stars drawn with a marker). This revealed a huge flaw in the whole sticker system.

Korean Lessons

I had my first Korean lesson on Saturday and my second one earlier today. Right now I am learning the alphabet, and a little vocabulary.

In exchange for free weekly Korean lessons, all I need to do is spend one hour once a month co-teaching an art class with my Korean teacher. She is one of Jinna's friends, and also a part time English teacher at Break Away. I think the reason I get so much for so little work is that my presence in the art class is an advertisement for Break Away's new foreign teacher.

Born to Account

At the employee dinner Jinna told the Korean teachers that I had been an accountant before I came here. The Korean teachers said that accounting was a good match for me. "No, no, no!" I said, a little ashamed that they would think that about me. "Bad fit."

Later I was talking with Annie, one of the Korean teachers, and she explained that accountants are held in high regard in Korea. When they said that accounting was a good match for me, they probably weren't imply that teaching was a bad match. It was probably a compliment, although I still don't like it.

I don't think it is as common a thing here to leave a secure, socially respected job to do soul searching. If I explained that I make more money as a teacher than as an accountant, it might be more understandable.

Don't Drop the Soap

There is a popular game among Korean children, if it can be called a game. They place their palms together and extend their index fingers. Then they find someone whose back is exposed, and they jam their two extended fingers as hard as they can up that person's butt. They call it "dong-chim." I was warned about dong-chim on my first day here, but my first real experience with it didn't come until a few days later.

I learned not to turn my back on them pretty quickly.

Math Class

I have "Math" class with the seven year olds, which is absolutely chaotic sometimes. There are about ten students, each with his or her own activity book, and each of them are at a different place in that activity book. The class is thirty minutes long, and goes something like this:

Me:
"Hey everyone! It's math time! Let's get out our math books."

Everyone:
"Nooooo" "Water please!" Batha roooom please!"

At this point, the three "good" students get their math books out. Another three just sit there in a daze, and say and do nothing. The remaining students will clamor for "batha rooom!!!" and will eventually attempt a jailbreak. If I stop the first kid, their revolution is usually thwarted. If I don't, almost the entire class is likely to escape in the ensuing chaos. They usually go fill up their water cups or go to the bathroom (whether they need to or not), which is for them, much preferable to sitting in class.

Me:
"Open up your books, get out your pencils!"

Everyone scrambles to get their pencils, which are, for some reason, never at hand. They are in drawers, on the floor, anywhere but with the student. Then it becomes a mad dash to the pencil sharpener. They will sharpen and sharpen those pencils down to little stumps if allowed.

For the rest of class, several students will continuously call "Tea-e-cher! Tea-e-cher! Help-a me please!"

They will yell this once or twice, and then, if I'm not already helping them, they will scream it at the top of their lungs. Or they will get out of their seat, and grab onto whatever part of me they can grab on to. Often times the math problems include English instructions that are way past the students' level of understanding, so I need to be able to read, understand, and demonstrate the problem to a student in about 20 seconds so I can deal with the next issue, or else whatever remaining order that exists will disappear.

There's way too much stuff happening to be able to deal with it all, or even half. So the first thing I do is adjust my expectations. I'm happy if I can help a few students during class, and the classroom is not entirely destroyed.

Some days are better than others with math class. Today was a good day. I got the most troublemaking student to do work. I tried less discipline than last time, and more positive reinforcement. I praised the kids who were doing work. When John, the troublemaker, did work, I think he was genuinely surprised that I said "good job," and gave him a high five. I think he's mostly used to getting yelled at.

All of this happens in the blink of an eye.

US and Korea: preliminary differences

Work: I heard a statistic that Koreans have 35% more working hours than the US (which already works too hard in my opinion), making Korea the hardest working developed country in the world. Also, if a "holiday" in Korean happens to fall on Saturday or Sunday, they say "too bad" instead of taking Friday or the following Monday off.

Food: Half the time I don't know what I'm eating, but I feel that it is much easier to eat healthy here that the US, especially when it comes to dining out. The only meal I make for myself is breakfast. I eat at school for lunch, and I eat at restaurants for dinner and lunch on weekends, and any other time I feel like eating. I feel like I have more energy here, which I attribute to my healthier diet (although it is probably also partially due to excitement). White rice is part of everything, and there are a lot of vegetables.

Food here is awesome. Restaurants here are awesome. I went to sit-down diner/restaurant last night and had a big bowl of ramen noodles, with some green onions and what I think was egg, and a side of kimchee and some kind of pickled root of something. The total bill was 2000 won, or about $1.75, and you don't leave tips here either. Eating out is actually more economically practical than cooking!

Side dishes vary from place to place, but they always include kimchee, which is spicy, pickled cabbage. Side dishes are always free, and delivered to you without asking. If you need something, it is not impolite to yell at the waiter until you get his or her attention.

The bread is bad. It's hard to find good bread. Somewhere down the way, Koreans must have gotten the idea of bread mixed up with pastry. Almost all bread is coated with sugar. It's gross, but they never use bread in anything anyway.

City: Neon lights are everywhere. There is not a lot of space, so they build upwards. Driving must be a nightmare: parking spots are tiny, so everyone has to fold in their side mirrors when they park. Jaywalking is rare, because the cars will probably just run you over. Even when I am in a crosswalk, the cars will come right up next to me, putting the brakes on at the last possible moment.

At first glance, it seems that the US has a more efficient trash removal system. I was eating a banana on the way to work, and had to carry the peel with me for a ten minute walk because there are almost no public trash cans. I was confused where to put the trash from my apartment, until a lady who works at my building directed me to the local trash heap. It's just a pile of trash that sits in the middle of the sidewalk. It seems like it would be so easy to have a dumpster there, but instead everyone just piles up garbage until someone eventually takes it away.

Besides the trash piles, the city is fairly clean. No more or less dirty than Boston. Unlike the US, there are plenty of public restrooms (although they are not necessarily clean).

Incheon's public parks are plentiful. The parks usually have work-out machines for the adults and jungle-gyms for the kids. The bigger parks have public badminton courts, soccer fields, and all sorts of good stuff. Incheon is bike friendly with pink bike paths, made out of asphalt and recycled tires, that go pretty much all over the city.

English Names

All the kids here take an English name when they begin at Break Away. I just named a boy "Corey."

Most of the names are really ordinary. There are like four Kevins. I don't know who is responsible for the Kevin-naming spree.

There are some names that somehow slip through the cracks. My favorites are:

Lion (perversion of "Ryan")
Shine
Carlex (perversion of "Carlos")
Car (Carl, maybe?)
Rex
Vito ( total gangsta)
Honey

The Casino

As of 8/15/2010, $1 USD = 1,183 Korean won. I will warn you when the semi-technical poker talk begins.

I finally got my cell phone on Friday, which means my social interactions won't be limited to planning in advance, running into people accidentally, and hoping people knock on my door.

On Saturday I got a text from Jake that the gang was going to Walker Hill Casino in Seoul. The only problem was that nobody seemed to agree on where it was. Finally the consensus was that I should just get in a cab and ask for "Walker Hill Casino." The casino reimburses cab fare up to 10,000 won, which isn't bad considering how cheap cabs are.

I got in a cab and said "Walker Hill Casino." He seemed a little confused and asked "Walker Hill Hotel?" Chances are they were the same thing, but I didn't want to end up in the wrong place so I repeated "casino." He called a number and put me on with someone who spoke English. Apparently all cab drivers have a hotline they can call when they run into a way-gook who doesn't speak any Korean.

Once the cab driver understood, he repeated to me: "Walker Hill Casino," and I smiled and said "Yes, Walker Hill Casino." He started chuckling, and for some reason I started chuckling too. For several moments, we were both chuckling. I'll never know exactly why he started chuckling, or why I was doing it too, but it felt like we sharing some sort of conspiracy together. This is one of those moments that just can't be captured in words. It was hilarious, and I had to hold myself back otherwise I would have been laughing uncontrollably, which probably would have made him uncomfortable.

After that moment, we didn't say another word to each other until the cab ride was over, almost an hour later. For an hour long ride, the fare was about 26,000 won. I paid, and tipped him 500 won - less than 50 cents. It felt a little weird, but most of the time they aren't tipped at all, so he seemed grateful. As soon as he drove off, I remembered I needed a receipt to get my reimbursement. I wasn't even inside the casino, and I was already down 10.

Walker Hill Casino is your average casino, like any casino you've ever been to in the US. Perhaps it feels a little bit newer, and the chips feel a little cleaner (or another likely explanation is that my tolerance for grime on my fingers has gotten much higher since getting here).

It's so normal that if it were in Las Vegas, you'd probably not stay there very long. What makes it interesting are the people. Koreans aren't allowed to gamble, which means the place is full of Japanese, Chinese, Korean-Americans, foreign English teachers, and American military. Our friend Alice, who is Korean-American, had to show her US passport to get in.

I had been wondering how easy it would be to tell military apart from English teachers - the two basic groups of non-Asians in Korea. It's really easy. They're generally younger, big muscles, and buzz cuts. The older military guys stand out even more. One guy had a tattoo of a dog-tag on his arm. Not that I am in a position to judge another man's tattoo.

If I were in Las Vegas, I would kill to sit at some of these poker tables, based on stereotypes alone. The tables I sat at were 80% Asian, 20% military. I had hoped I had found a place that was still untouched by the likes of Sklansky and Cardrunners. But alas, there were still the same slightly-misguided discussions about outs and odds you find everywhere. Overall though, the tables were very soft.

I was playing with some Koreans who spoke perfect English, and from what I could tell, perfect Korean too. They would speak to each other between hands. That was a little disconcerting, especially when they were obviously discussing a hand they had just played in which one of them had gotten a fold from a young military guy. I asked where everyone was from. The military guy and the Korean who had just pushed him off his hand answered "Chicago" at the same time. That got them started on a long conversation about home. The military guy was 20 years old, and had been in Korea for 10 months. He was going home at Christmas, and could hardly wait. He didn't like it here.

Later, I moved to a 5,000/5,000 blind table, with a minimum buy-in of 500,000. Considering I had about 700,000 to my name, it was a risky move. I decided I could manage it. If I lost it all, I would have 200,000 left to last me the month, which seemed reasonable.

I had my 200,000 in chips from the 1,000/2,000 table with me, and my ass had not made contact with the chair for more than one second when a young asian guy with sunglasses to my right said, "The minimum buy-in is 500, buddy." I glanced at his chip stack. He was sitting on about 5.5 million, probably covering everyone at the table combined. I decided immediately that I did not like this person.

WARNING: Semi-technical poker talk starts here.

As I was beginning the laborious process of buying chips (the largest bill in Korea is the 10,000, which means you have to hand over 30 bills to buy about $300 in chips. They just recently got a 50,000 bill, but you pretty much only see them at casinos. The banks don't even pay you with them unless you ask for it), the dealer gave me QJ, and I limped after a few other limpers. The flop was KTx rainbow, and an older white guy in the blind bet 25 into about a 35 pot. I called, everyone else folded. The turn was an ace, giving me the nut straight, and he checked. I bet 50, and he folded.

I got AK in the big blind a few hands later, and an old asian guy raised to 70. I didn't know what to make of him yet, but I called, and so did another old asian guy, who seemed pretty loose and bad. The flop was Q96 rainbow. I checked, and they both checked. The turn was a 6, and I checked, and they both checked. The river was an off-suit ace, and I decided to check it, hoping a weaker ace would bet, or someone would try a bluff. It got checked down. I showed AK, expecting to drag in the pot, but the loose guy showed 67 for trips. The original raiser showed TT angrily.

I was down to 400, and the next hand I got AK again. There was a raise to 25 in early position, followed by 4 callers. I was in the small blind. With 130 already in the pot, I decided to make a big raise. I almost went all-in, but instead for some weird reason, opted to raise to 200 - half my stack. Everyone folded, and I was up to about 550.

After that, I went on a mini-rush. For the next two orbits, I was playing every other hand. I picked up okay hands in playable spots, and had some good luck with them. I never won any huge pots, but I won several small-medium ones in a short amount of time. I was up to about 950,000.

At this moment, Sunglasses thought it was appropriate to address the table: "Let's speed up the game, people. This isn't the freaking main event." He didn't look at me when he said it, but I couldn't imagine him directing it at anyone else. My guess was that he had been the center of attention up until now, but now that the spotlight had shifted for a few minutes he was cranky. Oh, how I wanted his chips.

The very next hand I pick up AJ of hearts on the button. Several people limp, and Sunglasses makes it 40. I call on the button, and 3 others call. The flop comes KQT, with two diamonds and a heart. Whammo. This was it. The poker moment everyone dreams of. Here I was in a 5/5 game with over 160 in the pot preflop, multi-way pot, super action heavy board, with position, sitting on the nuts with a deep stack against an arch-nemesis (who is also the open-raiser!) who is even deeper. You can't invent a situation more ideal than that. Just try it.

It gets checked around to me, and I bet 100, and everyone instantly folds. Of course.

The only other hand I played with Sunglasses after that was when I had AQ of hearts on the button. Two limpers, he was one of them. I raised to 40, and got a call from him and the other limper. The flop was KK7 with two clubs. Checked to me, and I bet 70, the first limper folds and Sunglasses check-raises to 210. I consider a shove, but mostly just out of bitterness. I fold. He doesn't show, but claims it was KQ. He said he needed to make sure I didn't have AK. I made some noise of agreement. He said he would have probably folded if I shoved. I said that would be a big fold with KQ. He didn't say anything. How much of his story is bullshit? It's hard to say.

I was having a great time. I was down from 950 to about 700, but I was still up in a pretty soft 5/5 game. But then I noticed something appalling which made me decide to cash out, and will keep me from ever playing a cash game there again. I saw the dealer drop three green 5,000 chips into the rake slot. Did I see that right? The next hand went down preflop, and there was no rake. But the hand after that grew to over 150, and sure enough, the dealer took three green chips, and two cream-colored 1,000 chips.

I got up and walked over to Andrew's table. "Do you know what the rake is here?" He didn't know, but a white guy next to him said, "10%, capped at 20." "20 dollars?" "Yep."

A $20 rake in any pot that gets to 200,000, which is quite often in that 5/5 game. No thanks.

Nothing but Crickets

I have one class twice a week with four students about to enter middle school in a couple weeks. One of the girls is very talkative, and fun to have in class. The other three will barely say a word. Sometimes they won't talk even if they are directly addressed.

Yesterday, the talkative girl was absent. I started class with a game, trying to get the students relaxed and talking. It was a game I found on an TEFL website - students try to ask questions that get the teacher to say yes. For example: "Is your name Tom?" "Are you wearing a shirt?" and so forth. It's a big hit amongst the younger classes, and it's really cool hearing the little kids use full sentences (otherwise they almost never do).

With this older class, however, there was nothing. I got one kid to ask a question, but the other two just sat there. I tried to help them along, basically making the sentences for them, but still nothing. I asked them if they'd rather read from the textbook. Of course they didn't answer, so we did the textbook. At least they were "talking" when they read out loud from the book.

Afterwards I told Jason about the class. He'd had similar experiences with them. They are like kids anywhere who go to school because they are forced to, and they don't really care about the subject. I probably wasn't much better as a Spanish student.

Health Check

Jinna rushed me to the hospital in between classes yesterday so that I could get my health inspection, which is standard for aliens in Korea. On the way we stopped at my apartment so that she could explain how my washing machine works.

They weighed me, took my blood pressure, and did a very easy hearing test. I was asked to pee in a dixie cup, which I then awkwardly handed back to the nurse. They drew blood, and I thought I was done, but then they said I needed an x-ray. I didn't want one, but they said it was necessary.

So they x-rayed my chest. I sat in the doctor's office while Jinna translated for me. He asked if I ever had any infectious diseases, so I answered no. Then he asked me if I had ever had tuberculosis. I didn't know what to say. I told Jinna that I did, but a long time ago. The doctor nodded and said he saw the scar on my lung. It was okay - I could still get an alien registration card, but the doctor wanted me to come back in a month for another x-ray to make sure everything is okay. I said okay, but I have no intention of going back there. No more unneccessary x-rays, please.

They are checking my blood for drugs is what Jinna and Andrew say. Marijuana use is a serious crime here. You can even be arrested on hearsay. On the other hand, Andrew says that doctors will look the other way when a foreign English teacher tests positive for THC, due to their desperation, and the sheer number of recent college grads from USA and Canada that test positive for it. Not that I plan on testing that out.

No Liability

Lawsuits in Korea are very rare. If you trip in a pothole on the street, it's your own fault.

The same is true for children. Every morning the kids empty out a lego box with wheels on the bottom, and take turns climbing into the box and pushing each other all over the library. If they duck down and have enough momentum, a kid in the wheel-box can just barely roll under the tables and make it to the other side.

Amazingly enough, there have been no major injuries since the school opened up almost a year ago.

No Korean

As a foreign teacher, I am told not to speak Korean to the children.

After 10 months in Korea, Andrew had picked up a few Korean phrases. One time he spoke to a kid in Korean when his mother was around. The mother went to Jinna, upset that Andrew was speaking Korean. The foreign teachers are not supposed to know, let alone speak, Korean.

But that being said, it's hard to teach class without knowing any Korean at all. Sometimes I will be talking, and the kids don't even know that I am addressing them. Jason said that it's helpful to learn a few words to use in class - just be careful not to use Korean when the moms are around.

I sat with the kids during lunch today. Jay and Dan, smart kids - but troublemakers, talked to me in Korean. I responded with "hello" and "thank you" in Korean, and they lost it. Until now, I had never said a Korean word at the school. They would talk in Korean, and I would mimic them. Everything I said was the best joke in the world.

Jason speaks the best Korean of any white person I have met - he's been here nine years and is married to Korean. But he doesn't speak very well, by his own account. Everyone comes to Korea with the mindset that they are going to learn Korean, but as soon as they realize they don't have to learn it, then they lose their motivation. It's also not very motivating to learn Korean when the only Korean-speaking country is Korea.

Detective McNulty

So my co-worker Andrew's last name is McNulty. He also informs me he has a brother who is a real-life detective. Can't get any cooler right?

Sunday we were hanging out with a guy named "Bunk."

This won't make sense unless you know "The Wire."

The Weekend

Friday night I went for roasted duck with my boss Jason, my co-worker Andrew, and Jason's Korean golfing buddy Song-nam. It was there that I had my first run-in with Korean soju - a vodka-like liquor that is extremely dangerous for a variety of reasons.

Soju facts:
1. A pint of soju costs roughly $1.
2. It's liquor.

The bottles of soju kept coming, and it took me a little while to realize that I was really, really drunk. Afterwards, Jason and Song-nam went back to their wives, and Andrew took me to Rio's- a bar full of white people. I didn't remember too much, and the next day I was still a little drunk when Andrew came knocking at 4 PM. He was really excited because he had acquired beef and a grill, and was going to cook burgers.

I met the gang, some of whom had already met me at Rio's the other night. We had a gang of about 6 foreingers, and we went to a bar called King Kong. Then everyone went outside and started drinking in the square. Open beverages are legal. So is drinking in cars and taxis.

We started collecting more and more westerners. We had English-speaking representatives from Canada, New Zealand, Scotland, England, and the U.S. Within the U.S., there were two Californians, two Virginians, and a guy from New Mexico.

Koreans approached us throughout the night, and tried talking to us. Most of the time, they knew only a few English phrases, which they would repeat over and over again. They were all about taking pictures with us. White people here are minor celebrities. A man who knew only about a dozen English words, one of which was "bodyguard," insisted on getting a picture with me.

End of the Week

I'm at school, and I have one last class before the week is over. All in all, it has been the most intense, ridiculous, bizarre, exhausting, and exciting week that I can remember.

Today I wrote report cards for the 4 year-olds. Yes, in Korea even the 4 year olds are graded on their performance. What's more, the reports are for July. August 1st being my first day on the job, I felt that it was a little out of my jurisdiction. But Tim, the teacher I replaced, had been replaced, and I was their new teacher. I wrote some very generic comments about how they were improving.

In addition to everything else, I have been fighting a cold all week. I think I've finally won, although I passed it off to Jason.

Running and Casinos

I may have judged running in Incheon too soon. It seems that it is similar to Boston in that you just need to find the right places to run. I went for a nice run the other day through some parks. There are rubber paths made from recycled tires that run through the parks, and also through many of the sidewalks around the city. The air quality still probably isn't the best, but that's what I get for living in a city.

I let slip my interest in poker to Jason and Andrew, and they told me some interesting things about Korean casinos. The most interesting thing is that Koreans themselves are not allowed to play in their own casinos! The casinos are full of Japanese, Chinese, and various other foreign travelers. The owners and employees are Korean.

Some comparisons between working at the preschool and being at a casino:
1. Very colorful
2. Constant bombardment of noise and distractions
3. My hands feel dirty again 20 minutes after I wash them

The Crabs

On the third day, I had some science project classes. One of the projects was to make a moving crab from a kit. Making the crabs required use of fine motor skills that was difficult even for adults, let alone kindergarteners. Not only that, but the crabs were just terribly designed, and could survive one, maybe two scuttles, before falling apart.

Soo-jun, one of the Korean teachers, helped me in class to make them, although neither of us could figure it out. The directions, of course, were in Korean, and one of the kids read the directions and showed me what to do.

It was kind of a disaster, but it was funny too. When I went to lunch with Jason and Andrew, I asked them "Have you guys had the crabs yet?"

They gave me a shocked look, as though I had crossed a professional boundary, and then they burst out laughing when I backtracked, and tried to rephrase the question.

I'm in Korea, and I can't even communicate properly with my fellow native speakers.

The Beard

Everyone seems to like my beard. So all the haters back in the US of A can just chew on that. You know who you are.

Larry, the shyest kid at school, won't say a word to me, but he did join the other kids yesterday when they gathered around and felt my beard.

I went to a sushi bar across the street from my apartment last night. I was shocked that the cheapest item on the menu was 19,000 won (or ~$16 US) - a very pricey place in Korea! So far it seems that you can get really good restaurant food for about 25-50% of what you can in the States. Jason told me he once fed a party of 8 adults for under $150, including booze.

I soon realized why it was so pricey. It was a meal for two, at least. I left a lot of raw tuna behind, sadly.

The sushi chef spoke broken English, but enough for us to joke around. He asked how old I was, and I told him. He gave a surprised look and said "My head is going ping ping ping!" He asked how old I thought he was, and I said 27. He laughed and said 41. He pointed to my face and said "Handsome." When he didn't take his hand back, I realized that he was gesturing to my beard. He wanted to feel it, so I obliged him by leaning forward. Then the sushi chef rubbed his fingers on my beard. For some reason, this wasn't weird.

I promised him I'd be back next week with a friend so that we could finish one of the portions. Now all I need to do is find a friend.

That sounded really sad, but it's not.

Day 2

I've been in Korea less than 3 full days, but it already feels like a month.

My second day was very different from my first. Leading class felt much more natural. I did not have the same class that I had yesterday, but I did have some equally rowdy kids in another class. Jason keeps saying "don't fight them," which can also be somewhat contradictory to his "iron fist" policy.

Entertaining the kids is key. I had another phonics class today, but this time I divided the class into two teams, and had them create words to stump the other team. Although it had some kinks, it worked a lot better than yesterday's approach (in which I made the words, and asked the questions).

It's early to make judgements about my job, but I feel like the best parts about my job are probably going to be the worst parts as well. So far, it's really awesome. The other native English teacher, Andrew, is part time, making me the only full time English teacher employee of the school (Jason's also a teacher, but he's the owner). I have a LOT of stuff to do. One of the Korean co-teachers asked me if I was bored today, during pretty much the only ten minutes of down time I had (it wasn't even really down time). I answered no. Bored is one thing I have not been since I arrived. I was at school for almost 11 hours today, which was totally fine because I don't have a life here yet. Things will supposedly get less busy for me when the other full time teacher arrives next month. We'll see.

I'm kind of like a superstar at Break Away, and I'm not saying that in a bragging way. I certainly haven't done much yet to deserve my status - it's a role that belongs to whoever would have filled their position. For instance, I get photographed a lot. It's a little weird for me when Jinna, or one of the other Korean teachers, enters the class and takes pictures of me hanging out with the kids. Jinna pulls me out of class several times a day to meet the students' mothers. Jason explained that a lot about running a private English school in Korea is perception. The photos go on their website, and the mothers talk to each other.

A tricky situation that happened today:

I was in class with the three girls again - Sophie, Sally, and Linda. Besides being the cutest 4 year olds ever (I think they're four), Linda is the best behaved, Linda is very touchy-feely, and Sophie is very cute, but gets very upset when she doesn't get her way. I asked them what animal goes "quack quack" and Linda said duck, so I gave her a point (just a mark on the board - I think they get stickers at the end of the day or something). I asked another question, and Linda got it right again, so I added another point on the board. When I turned back at them, Sophie was on the verge of tears.

I regretted giving Linda a two point lead over the other girls (although Sally was too busy feeling my arm hair to care), but now I was stuck. I couldn't take a point away from Linda - I had already given it to her, and she had answered correctly. I also didn't see how I could give Sophie a point simply because she was upset - that would surely screw me over in future classes. I decided to let my decision stand, and continue class. Sophie carried her chair to the corner of the room, and climbed butt-first into a cubby hole. When Sally took the chair away, Sophie lost it, and started crying. I kept going the best I could.

Eventually Sophie stopped crying, and I got her attention by making a fish face. "Pishie!" she called out. "Yes, good job! Sophie gets a point!" Order was restored again.

I'm trying to learn as much as I can from watching how Jason and Andrew, and even the Korean teachers, handle themselves around the kids. The school is in a constant state of "barely controlled chaos" from 9:30 AM until about 4 PM. After that, classes get smaller and fewer, and the kids get older and more obedient.

They feed me coffee in the morning, and energy drinks in the afternoon. I was playing Scrabble with two middle schoolers around 7 tonight (a nice, easy-going treat at the end of a crazy day), when Jason came in with a small, sealed plastic bag, covered in either Korean or Chinese characters and some kind of brown liquid inside. "Here," he said, "To fight the jet-lag. It's traditional Chinese medicine. Basically. Try not to smell or taste it." I just shrugged and chugged it down with him. I think it worked, because it's almost 10, and I can still function.

I like how little I'm thinking about things here. Today, I was thrown into at least two classes with absolutely no lesson plan, or even an idea of what the lesson was supposed to be about. I had to look at my time-sheet to see the class was called "critical thinking." I thought for a second about what that would mean for 6 year olds, and decided to play pictionary on the whiteboard.

The only class I actually had a little time to prepare for was also the only time I felt nervous. During the rest of the day, everything happens so suddenly and urgently that there is no time for second-guessing.