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.