Unfortunately, the day ahead isn’t looking quite as beautiful and I soon find myself wishing that Korean schools had snow days like American schools. Of course, if the snow were so heavy that school were actually cancelled, I probably wouldn’t be wishing quite as fervently as I currently am but a day of no classes would be great considering the amount of work I need to catch up after yesterday’s ‘sick day’.
Since I missed my last debate class with my second graders, I now have to squeeze in two debate topics which proves to be an interesting challenge for both me and the students. As long as they give some type of an opinion on each topic, I’m happy but I do feel guilty for giving my co-teachers extra work today. The rest of my classes are not as demanding although I wish I could use the time for other work since the students are currently using class time to practise for the school festival next week. By the end of the day, I’m a little stressed about the fact that I still need to finish my notes and tasks for the winter camp workbook and that has to be finalised by tomorrow.
My final task before I head home, however, is to edit a short speech for one of my students who is participating in the school’s model UN debate competition on Saturday. She asks me to leave the speech on Mr Jeong’s desk since she’ll see him later that evening anyway. As I enter Mr Jeong’s teachers’ room, I notice that he’s not there but someone is sitting at his desk. When that person turns around, I notice it’s Six-pack who hastily springs from the chair and greets me like a deer caught in headlights. I’m still uncertain of just how good his English is so I simplify my question of whether or not this is actually Mr Jeong’s desk. He nods and smiles broadly. I place the single page on the desk, say a quick thank and attempt to scurry out of the room with flaming cheeks. As I’m leaving, I hear a very soft, perfectly enunciated “You're welcome” from Six-pack. I already know he can speak English but I turn around with a look of feigned surprise and respond with a shocked “You speak English?”. He pulls a face and says, “Just a little” – all with a perfect English accent – so I respond by pointing to myself and saying (in Korean), “Korean, little” which elicits a rewarding laugh from him as I flee the room and head home.