Starting With a Bang (17 August)

For months, I was convinced that the new semester would be starting on September 1^st.  Summer camp only ended last week and I’d been anticipating and eagerly looking forward to two weeks of deskwarming with no work before the new semester kicked off.  Sadly, I was informed at the end of last week that the new semester begins today.  Furthermore, the vice-principal at my school has insisted that NZ1, NZ2 and I teach an additional four hours per week this semester so that all nine of the foreign teachers at my school teach 20 hours per week. 

New Hours

Apparently some teachers have complained that the three English teachers were only teaching 16 hours per week.  What many of them don’t seem to be aware of is that we have weekly marking, regular editing and additional work that the other foreign teachers don’t have.  While the Korean English teachers have argued precisely this point, other teachers have insisted that we all teach the same number of hours in addition to all of the work we were already doing.  The result is that we will have to attend reading lessons that the Korean teachers usually lead in order to make up the additional four hours.  It also means less time for all of the marking and editing that we already do and I can feel the new timetable already kicking my butt despite today being only the first day of the semester.

New Students 

Another new addition this semester is an American exchange student.  She has just graduated from high school in the US and will be at my school for the next year.  Unfortunately, she arrives mid-school year for Korean students, which makes it difficult to place her in a class with students her own age.  It’ll be interesting to see how she fares and how the school handles this new challenge.

Unexpected Freedom (16 August)

When I arrive at school at 7:50am this morning, I anticipate few staff will be at work today.  However, I’m surprised to encounter absolutely no one in the building.  In addition, my key isn’t working so I can’t open my office.  I have work to do and don’t mind being at school today but if I can’t get into my office, I can’t do anything and I’m not too excited about having to sit in the corridor and read for the day.

I head downstairs and sit outside the main entrance to the building while I text my fantastic co-teacher asking if I have to stay at school.  While I’m sitting there, one of the groundsmen approaches me and asks if my office is locked.  He gets the main key from the administration office and graciously opens up my office for me just as my co-teacher phones to tell me that there’ll be a teacher at the school from 9:00am but I can go home after that.

Delighted to hear that I can leave early as long as the teacher on duty sees me, I get through all of my work for the first day of the new semester and relish the peace and quiet that is so rare in my office.  It’s a very productive 90 minutes and at 9:30am, I manage to lock up my office and I make sure that I’ve been seen at school for the day before heading home.  And unexpected free day means that I can organise and post my niece’s birthday present, run a few other errands and go for acupuncture this afternoon – a good start to the new semester.

Approval (26 July)

My fantastic co-teacher is at school today and has the final draft of the writing textbook, which we now need to double-check and do the final editing.  After two hours of careful reading through the book using my work computer and her laptop, we finally finish the final editing with only six pages requiring major reformatting and corrections due to the different computer programmes. 

By the time we finally finish the book, it’s lunchtime and we head to Paradiso to celebrate and just chat.  My fantastic co-teacher has never been to Paradiso despite having lived in Gunsan prior to getting married.   When we arrive there, I’m surprised to see Catfish and our Kiwi-mom there and we seem to confuse our regular waiters who are used to seeing Catfish and I together instead of at separate tables as we are today.  I jealously guard my lunchtime with my co-teacher and want to be able to chat to her since I won’t see her again until after the holidays.

After lunch, it’s back to school and a quiet afternoon of classes.  Thankfully, I only have one more day of work before heading back to the beach with M for a four day vacation.

Sports Day (27 May)

Sports Day is the last day of freedom for the final year students in high school.  It’s their last participation in a school event and their last fun day before they have to get even more serious about studying for the KSAT in November.  It’s also a day anticipated by the rest of the school and competition, as always, is great.

For the last few weeks, there have been several preliminary rounds between the various classes to determine the two teams to compete in the finals on the actual Sports Day.  Games include: soccer, dodgeball, basketball and others that I’m not too certain of.  Like everything else in Korea, it’s a big competition and the kids take this rather seriously, determined not to be the weakest link in their team.  They diligently practise and write in their journals of their determination to be the best that they can be and to do their respective teams proud.  For my school, there are three teams grouped according to their language majors: Chinese, Japanese and Spanish.

The festivities continue throughout the day as the teams compete to get the highest overall score, win individual competitions and the best cheering prize.   The teams have clearly worked hard to create original cheers and to show their spirit.  Also, each sports event is taken seriously whether it is jumping rope, the soccer final, basketball, tug-or-war or the ladder below.  Naturally, there are a few injuries along the way and a few disappointed enthusiasts but a lot of fun is clearly had by all – including the teachers who join in for a soccer game.

Surprising T-shirts

Another big part of the day is the team t-shirts.  Even the teachers have been divided into the three teams and sport the matching team shirts that the students wear.  Apparently the students could choose what they wanted written on the back of their shirts and the classes chose messages for their various teachers too.   Six-pack, having recently broken up with his girlfriend, has a message on his shirt that apparently reads, “Looking for a girlfriend”. 

However, these shirts are my personal favourite:  How, on earth, they managed to get these shirts approved, I’ll never know so all I can say is…Oh, Korea!

Incidentally, number 18 manages to cover this message in both English and Korean.  The Korean word for "18" is the same as the English word on her shirt....

A Little Perspective (15 April)

Having taught in South Africa for several years, I’m used to student discipline being one of the biggest parts of my job.  My school in Korea has been rather easy in this regard…which is why we were all shocked to the core at the scandal that occurred at school last night.  I barely make it into the school this morning before one of my co-teachers, who is clearly bursting at the seams to share the news, pulls me aside and fills me in on shocking news.  Your school may have had problems but could it possibly be any worse than this…

Scandal Abounds

Bearing in mind that this is one of the most elite schools in my province, behaviour is seldom a problem.  Last night’s events, however, were so shocking that it was necessary for the parents of the students concerned to be summoned to school immediately and the homeroom teacher was required to fill out a detailed incident report.  From cities nearly three hours away, distraught parents rushed to school, late at night, demonstrating the severity of this incident and the students concerned with dealt with rather strictly.  Communications continued until close to midnight and it was agreed that a disciplinary hearing will be held to determine the most appropriate form of discipline for the two disgraced students.  Disappointment was evident in the faces of all and teary promises that this would never happen again.  

Such a terrible crime must surely involve underage drinking, smoking, drugs or some other illegal activity.  It’s far, far worse than anything you could possibly imagine and the students were stupid enough to be caught doing taking part in this illicit activity outside the store across the road from the school (in front of my apartment building!) – in full school uniform!

What, exactly, was their crime?

They were caught kissing!

The vice-principal apparently saw the students kiss, told them to stop and they ignored him then tried to run away.  Naturally, like any scored educator, he chased them and caught the boy – one of my best and sweetest students.

My colleagues are shocked but I can’t stop at the ludicrous hardline approach the school has taken.  One of my colleagues commented that “these students have had a relationship – they were smooching.  What if they now have a baby!”  I tried to reason with my colleagues by pointing out that teachers back home have caught students doing far worse than kissing but they were not amused.  I hope that next time the students have enough common sense to at least go behind the building to kiss.

Understanding a New Perspective

The reaction of my Korean colleagues is somewhat understandable:  Public Displays of Affection are frowned upon in Korea; kissing is something intimate and should be reserved for the bedroom or, at the very least, the privacy of your own home.   Even holding hands is frowned upon by some older Koreans.  

Statistically, most Koreans live at home until they get married.  Unlike Western countries where a 30 year old man living at home with his parents would most likely be labelled a ‘loser’, in Korea, this is quite common for both sexes.  A lot of Koreans will try to convince you that high school students are not having sex and I’ve had many older Koreans try to convince me that pre-marital sex just does not happen in Korea.  Of course, this is contradicted by the sheer number of Love Motels that exist in every city – particularly in university areas – and exist for the sole purpose of renting rooms by the hour.  Since so many young Koreans live with their parents until marriage, getting down to the dirty deed in the comfort of one’s own home is not exactly possible – enter a lucrative business opportunity that caters to this natural human need.  Love Motels are pretty decent accommodation, however, and can be great places to stay overnight for a reasonable price.  

I should probably also add, as so many other bloggers before me have commented at length, that Koreans do not ‘date’ – they have relationships.  My colleague’s comment of the possibility of these students having a baby since they’ve ‘smooched’ is a direct reflection of the conservatism that is so evident at times in Korea.  Since kissing is reserved for the bedroom, along with other things, this reflects her train of thought: the students kissed, therefore they’re in a committed relationship, and (despite their denial of teenagers having sex) are probably doing other relationship matters too.   

As a homeroom teacher, my colleague is like a substitute parent for this boy (who is in 11^th grade in high school) and therefore feels that she has failed.  Since the students spend more time at school than they do at home, she is responsible for his moral guidance and ensuring that he (and other students in her class) toe the line.  From a Korean perspective, his behaviour is a direct reflection of her failure to provide this guidance – something that the vice-principal did not hesitate to tell her.  She was hauled over the coals and told to increase her vigilance of her students.  If the students had been caught having sex, she would probably have been fired, charged with negligence and never allowed to teach again.

This preservation of innocence is simultaneously frustrating and endearing. It’s endearing to meet adult Koreans who are still pure and Korean men generally have a reputation for being very sweet and considerate of their partners – they make sure their girlfriend is never bored, will go out of their way to make sure that you’re always entertained, are true gentlemen, even insist on carrying your handbag and will generally bend over backwards to make you happy.  I’m not saying that this is necessarily ideal but it is certainly different from the Western approach.  

A Foreing View

The frustrating downside, however, is that many grown men in Korea can still seem rather childlike at times.  I can’t help but look at my students and wonder how on earth they would function if they ever live or work outside of Korea.  While the sweet, gentle and innocent approach may be universal in Korea, such behaviour outside of Korea would, perhaps, be laughed at.  My high school students don’t really know how to talk to members of the opposite sex and this is something that seems to continue into adulthood for many.  Granted, the reasons for this apparent shyness may have more to do with Confucianism than anything else, but it can be frustrating for many foreigners.   Girls seem to be programmed to be cute in Korean culture and are viewed as fragile and emotional but many Korean men – which explains why some of the male teachers at my school treat me the way they do.  

Of course, this is not to say that all Korean men are like this or even that all Korean women are meek and mild.  I’m also not saying that it’s necessarily a bad thing – just different and the cause of many interesting (and frustrating) misunderstandings when Koreans and foreigners engage with one another.

The scandal at my school is true eye opener.  However, after having dealt with teenagers swearing at me and students assaulting teachers at my previous school, I’m truly grateful that something so minor in my own culture is the extent of the ‘serious discipline problems’ at my school here in Korea.  

Meet My Limit Kids! (28 March)

I sleep through four alarms this morning and only wake up at 8:40am which means I am late for school.  I’m tired, I’m grumpy and I don’t want to be at school today.  Despite this, my first lesson actually goes well.  My second class, however, are little monsters whose bad behaviour is worsened by the regular absence of my co-teacher for this class.  I’ve walked out of a lesson back home but this is the first time I’ve walked out of a class in Korea. 

As I stomp out of the class, I feel further frustration as I realise that I can’t exactly march into my co-teacher’s office and ask her to come to class because this will cause her to lose face in front of the vice-principal and the 11 other teachers potentially in her office at this time.  Causing her to lose face will only aggravate the situation; walking straight back into the classroom, however, will only further remove my authority.  My only choice: sit in the stairwell for 5 minutes and let the class (hopefully) stew about where I’ve gone. 

This seems to work to some extent because they’re more co-operative by the time I re-enter the class – even if my co-teacher never did find the venue for this particular lesson.

Lunchtime Craziness (10 March)

Lunchtime seems to always be something of a crazy event and the crazy and amusing happenings in the school cafeteria are not limited to my school.  Speak to any foreign teacher in Korea and they’ll probably have at least a dozen strange or amusing stories to tell of things that happen in their school’s cafeteria.  My school’s the same. 

Yesterday seemed to have been National Curry for School Lunch Day since many foreign teachers in both Gunsan and Seoul reported having had curry on the menu.  The reason I comment on the curry for lunch is because I’m so used to not being able to eat half the lunches on offer (since there’s usually a lot of shellfish) that I’m always tickled pink when I can actually eat everything on that day’s menu – the curry is one of those days and thus one of my favourites! 

Usually, my lunch consists of rice, kimchi and soup with the possibility of one or two of the other side dishes and occasionally the main dish too.  Mr Jeong regularly asks me if I’m eating enough at school and keeps telling me to take more of the food that I do eat – I keep telling him that I eat more than enough and that everything I eat has to be done with chopsticks which naturally takes me longer to eat.  It’s an ongoing commentary.

In addition to frequently having to avoid half the food at lunch, I’m also accustomed to being ignored by the majority of the staff.  Since so few of the staff are willing to speak English, my conversation partners are rather limited.  My limited attempts at speaking Korean are often received with surprise and claps that make me feel like a performing monkey and so, I’ve accepted that people will mostly ignore me at lunch.  However, there are always exceptions and today seems to be one of them. 

Mr Jo is kind of like a Korean father figure for me.  He’s gone out of his way to chat to me at times in his generally limited English, he regularly tells me that I look beautiful, he’s stood up for me when other teachers have been less than kind to me and he regularly asks me when I’m going to get married because I’m “already 30 years old and time is wasting”.  Today was one of the many conversations he’s had with me about my getting married and it’s too funny not to share:

Mr Jo: "Do you think you'll get married this year?"
Me: "Definitely not!"
Mr Jo: "You don't want to get married?"
Me: "I do but it won't be this year"
Mr Jo: "What's wrong with this year?"
Me: "Nothing. I just don't think I'll be getting married this year."
Mr Jo: "Hmmm...but so many men want to marry you."
Me: [Laugh] "No...No one does"
Mr Jo: "Yes. We have lots of single male teachers at school. What about one of them?"

Allow me to clarify that, at this point in the conversation, the teachers who understand this conversation are happily translating it to everyone else who is watching like it’s a popular drama.  They’re all enjoying the lunchtime entertainment and seem to find the entire conversation amusing.  Even the single teachers to whom Mr Jo is referring seem to be enjoying this conversation.

Me: [Awkward laugh] "I want to get married but I don't have anyone to marry."
Mr Jo: "I'll sort that out! I disappointed if you don't marry this year."
Me: "I'm sorry that I'll be disappointing you then."
Mr Jo: "Why has no one married you yet?"
Me: "Um...I don't know"
Mr Jo: "Young men today, they just talk and talk but don't do anything. It doesn't help to talk about someone - you have to talk to them."
Me: "Um, yeah" (when did his English suddenly get this good?)
Mr Jo: "Sarah...you sure you don't have man to marry?"
Me: "I'm sure!"
Mr Jo: "But Lots of men waiting for Sarah. Just choose one! I'll help you choose right man!"
Me: "Okay Mr Jo. Thank you."
Mr Jo: "You marry this year!"
Me: "Maybe."

As amusing as I myself have found this conversation, I can’t help feeling somewhat nervous as to what, if anything, is going to happen.  My co-teacher simply laughs along with the other teachers and later comments that he’s so nosy even if she did find the conversation rather amusing. 

Welcome class of 2013 (2 March)

The new semester finally starts and I’m relieved to finally be back to teaching a regular timetable after two months of deskwarming and attempting to keep myself occupied.  I’m also curious to meet the new teachers since the kiwis and I were at a training session in Buan when the school had a farewell dinner to say goodbye to the teachers who were transferring to other schools and to welcome the new teachers to my school.

One of my new co-teachers seems very reserved and I sense it’s going to be difficult to get to know her.  She seems to dislike me and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is that seems so strange.  I’m a little disappointed to hear that I’ll be teaching half of my classes with her because things feel very strained at the moment.   However, I’m thrilled that I’ll be teaching the other half of my classes with my fantastic co-teacher of last year and feel optimistic that things will even out in some way.  Plus, lessons this year will be far more guided and structured since we will be working from a textbook instead of just a vague syllabus.

Opening Ceremony - Korean Style

The opening ceremony in the auditorium is an interesting experience.  With the presence of several parents – presumably of the freshmen students – there are no seats left and I’m surprised to discover that the auditorium is actually rather hot.  It’s an uncomfortable 40 minutes but rather enlightening too.

I don’t understand anything that’s being said but I’m guessing it is the usual “welcome to our school, we hope you’ll be happy here and work hard” spiel that is usually given at the start of a new school year.  The surprising part, however, is when all of the freshmen stand while a representative for the grade stands directly in front of the podium behind which the principal is standing, and reads an oath on behalf of all of the freshmen.  I later learn that this is the agreement that students stand by to honour the school, respect their seniors and always promise to do their best in all their efforts while they are students of this school. 

Once the oath has been read, the freshmen turn to either their left or their right (whichever is closest to the aisle) while the senior students, who are seated in the outside rows, stand and turn to face the freshmen: they all then bow to each other before leaving the auditorium to commence their classes.  It’s an interesting start to the school year and just one of the many cultural differences I respect and enjoy watching.

Aches and Reunions (21 February)

Waking up this morning is far easier than walking.  I’d anticipated my thighs being sore today as a result of the bowing but I hadn’t even considered the repetitive strain that my upper arms were under during those same bows.  Walking up stairs at school is far less painful than coming back down.  Each step is like a baseball bat being beat against my weary body.  Mercifully, today is a quiet day at school with limited expectations so I’m able to spend most of the day at my desk surfing the net and catching up on blog entries. 

Reflections

I can’t help but think that today’s horoscope is spot on…for yesterday’s adventures:  “Perhaps you planned to attend a group event but circumstances beyond your control got in the way.  Maybe it was cancelled.  This could cause some disappointment for you and others.”  I had planned to meet friends for dinner but ended up in the wrong city nearly three and a half hours away which caused frustration more than disappointment.  “A project of your own is likely to need some attention, and this challenge could keep you engrossed for hours.”  My blog is permanently several weeks behind despite my having blogged diligently for the past two months.  Granted, I’ve managed to get a lot done on my blog but it’s reaching a point where I’m tempted to just forgo the last five weeks of entries and start afresh from today’s date – if only my ego and pride would allow me to do so.  The final part of my horoscope is spot on for today: “Tonight, treat yourself to dinner out.”  Since I missed last night’s dinner, and I haven’t seen Catfish in 10 days, we’re meeting at our favourite Vietnamese restaurant tonight, Hoa Binh, to catch up on the events of the past 10 days; there’s no way I’m missing this dinner!

With the start of the new school year around the corner, offices are abuzz with teachers moving desks.  In Korea and Japan, teachers change desks at the start of every year because it helps to keep things fresh and something about ‘energy’ that I still don’t quite understand.  The amusing part is that when these teachers move desks (and even offices), they move everything – including their keyboard, mice, computer screen and trash cans!  I’m devastated that this means that my fantastic co-teacher will be moving to another office just as I’ve finally been deemed cool enough for the International Office.  However, we’ll be getting three new Korean teachers in our office: Mr Jeong, a new English teacher and Moon Arang (a Spanish teacher).

Introductions

Since Arang is moving to the office that I’m in – and since she’ll be sitting diagonally across from me and we’ve never really spoken to one another before – she decides that it’s time to formally introduce herself at lunchtime when we find ourselves sitting next to each other.  The conversation goes something like this:

Arang:  Sarah, we haven’t met but I am Arang.

Me:       Moon Arang? Spanish teacher, right?

Arang:  (Surprised gasp) You know! Thank you!  I’m moving to your office.

Me:       Awesome!!

Arang: Really? (With very confused look!)

Me:       Of course (With equally confused look).  You were in the fourth floor office

              with Mr Jeong.

Arang:   You know who I am?

Me:        Of course! You play piano too, right?

Arang:  (Another surprised gasp) How do you know?

Me:       You played at the school festival in December.  You play very well.

Arang:  I’m honoured that you remember me.

Me:       I also play piano.

This is where the conversation ends because, frankly, I think I’ve overwhelmed her with the fact that I actually know who she is and remember hearing her play piano at school in December.  She also seems surprised that we actually have things in common – I honestly thought she didn’t like me so it seems we’re both a little surprised today.  I seem to have finally convinced some of the teachers that I plan to stay in Korea and that even though I’m a foreigner, I’m not a bad/conceited/obnoxious person.

Change is Afoot (18 February)

Catfish has recently told me of the staff changes at her school – including the fact that she is getting all new co-teachers since her current co-teachers will be teaching third grade for the 2011 school year.  I hadn’t really considered that my co-teachers may not be my co-teachers for 2011.  In South Africa, you’re a teacher for a particular grade and tend to teach the same grade for several years.   Assumption is always dangerous in Korea and this has once again been proven as I rush to my fantastic co-teacher and ask her if we’ll be teaching with different Korean teachers for 2011. 

I’m devastated when she confirms that this is so and I suddenly realise just how disappointed I am to have spent so much time invested in building relationships with both of my co-teachers over the last three months and will now have to start the entire process all over again.  I feel like I’ve spent the better part of the last four months attempting to prove myself at my school in one way or another: I’ve had to work hard to convince my colleagues that I’m different from the previous foreign teachers who have abandoned their contracts mid-way or sooner, I’ve had to work hard to try and get my co-teachers to trust me and engage with me so that we can be a successful team in the classroom and I’ve worked extremely hard to convince my students that I’m in this for the long run.  I’m now facing the reality of having to start all over again and I realise that I’m extremely anxious with the uncertainty of knowing who the new Korean English teachers are, who will be my new co-teachers and whether or not the last four months I’ve invested in my attempts to establish a relationship with my fantastic co-teacher and Mr Jeong have all been for nought. 

My fantastic co-teacher tells me that there will be a meeting after lunch for all of the Korean teachers to hear what their new responsibilities will be for the new school.  Each teacher apparently submits requests and a plan for what they hope to achieve in the year ahead and what their personal goals and aspirations are with regard to the school.  After the meeting, my fantastic co-teacher tells that she had hoped to be a homeroom teacher for 2011 because she feels that she has a good relationship with the new second grade students but it’s a demanding job and one that her husband and family asked her not to take for fear that it will be too taxing on her.  She does, however, receive all of the things that she’s requested for the new year and, despite knowing that this means I’ll probably be seeing a lot less of her in the year ahead, I resign myself to the fact that I’ll be starting from scratch in establishing relationships with the new teachers and dig deep within myself to the adult buried deep inside of me to congratulate her and wish her much success and happiness for the year ahead. 

Painting the Town Red - Gunsan Style

The rest of the day passes quickly and NZ2 tells me that KiwiKat is on her way down to Gunsan for the weekend.  I’ve already signed up for an Adventure Korea trip for this weekend so I won’t be able to see her over the weekend unfortunately but I’m still excited by the news that she’ll be arriving at the end of the school day.  She arrives shortly after 16:00 and manages to find her way to our office where we chat briefly before my fantastic co-teacher tells us all that we can leave at 16:30. 

We head into Gunsan to run a few errands after school – mine involves recharging the airtime on my cell phone at the Qook store opposite the bank.  I keep returning to this particular store since there is someone who speaks decent English.  Unfortunately, even though I mostly only go to the store in order to recharge the airtime on my phone, most of the staff there seem to panic with a deer-caught-in-headlights reaction every time I walk in – they all insist that I wait for the guy who speaks English no matter how hard I try to convince them that they can help me with such a small thing.  KiwiKat and NZ2 amuse themselves outside of the store by taking photos of each other dancing next to the dancing character that is a signature of the store.  Today, it’s dancing pig and by the time I finally manage to get the airtime on my phone recharged, they try to convince me to pose beside the pig.  I refuse on grounds of dignity and the fact that I actually have to frequent this particular store in order to recharge my phone each month; I already embarrass myself enough without trying to embarrass myself further.  They head back to NZ2’s apartment to a dinner of French toast which I decline since I need to still wrap KiwiKat’s birthday present before we again meet for coffee at Angel-in-us. 

I meet them just over an hour later outside of the store where they have again been entertaining themselves by taking photos of each other dancing next to the new character – the outfit was changed in the 90 minutes we were gone.  Somehow they manage to convince me to pose for a picture while I feel like a complete idiot.  We then head to Lotte mart which, as KiwiKat points out, is how we paint the town red on a Friday night in Gunsan.  Lotte mart is a hub of activity as usual and I head to the pharmacy while the Kiwis head to Skin Food where NZ2 needs to buy a birthday gift for KiwiKat. 

Ty-he-le-nol

The pharmacist in Lotte mart speaks fairly good English and all I need is Tylenol which is also called Tylenol in Korea.  I approach the counter confidently and the pharmacist smiles as he greets me.  “Hana Tylenol, juseyo,” I say confidently and am greeted with a slightly puzzled look; I try again and smile encouragingly while confident in my Korean pronunciation and proud of the fact that I can form a whole sentence in Korean.  Once more I’m greeted with a slightly puzzled look as the pharmacist asks me to repeat myself again while he listens carefully in an attempt to decipher what I’m trying to purchase.  With slightly less confidence, I narrow my request down to just “Tylenol” which now sounds more like a question than a statement as I try to figure out where I’m going wrong in this exchange.  This time, I’m greeted with a broad smile as he turns away to get a box of Tylenol for me.  I pay quickly, stuff the box into my bag and scurry away hastily to the second floor where the Kiwis have wandered off to.  KiwiKat then explains to me that Tylenol is three syllables in English but four in Korean: my request should actually be Ty-he-le-nol.

Angel-in-us

After a brief, and rather feeble, attempt to distract KiwiKat in Lotte mart while NZ1 and NZ2 find party paraphernalia for tonight, we head to Angel-in-us where we are meeting two other foreigners whom I haven’t seen since NZ2’s 40^th birthday party in early October.  They teach at a hagwon so they’ll only be meeting us after 21:00 which is when we arrive at the coffee shop.  By the time they arrive, we’re all in good spirits and joking around before pulling out party hats and gifts for KiwiKat who’s birthday is actually 1 March.  The party hats turn into a competition of who can wear theirs the longest – naturally KiwiKat wins – and we find ourselves leaving only when Angel-in-us closes for the night; it’s been a surprisingly good evening even though I have yet to pack for my AK trip.

No Party? (15 February)

After the excitement of yesterday, today almost seems boring and tedious.  The novelty of desk-warming has quickly worn off and, despite having had copious amounts of time to work on my blog, I’m eager to get back to a regular teaching schedule once more.  Mr Jeong’s visit to our office provides a brief respite from the monotony of the day and it’s a welcome distraction to chat for a few minutes.

Naturally, the conversation turns to the events of the previous day.  Fortunately, the teacher is okay and NZ1, NZ2 and I half-heartedly joke that she’ll probably be back at school by the next day despite the severity of yesterday’s experience – it’s simply the Korean way.  As we talk about the situation, NZ2 comments that Six-pack, who was the nearest teacher at the time, must have been a bit shocked to find this particular teacher had collapsed.  Mr Jeong then tells us that when the students first went to the classroom to call Six-pack, he thought that their story of a teacher having collapsed was little more than a ruse to get him somewhere else.  Being Valentine’s Day, and Six-pack being a popular male teacher for obvious reasons, he thought that some students had arranged some type of surprise party for him and this was their excuse to get him to the location – apparently some students do throw surprise parties for popular teachers on days such as this.  Naturally, with his cheeky grin and devilish flirtations, he joked back and forth with these students who were increasingly insistent that a teacher had, in fact, collapsed and needed help.  When he finally stepped out of the classroom as a result of their insistence, he was rather surprised – and maybe humbled? – to discover that this was no ruse to cover a surprise party: He really was needed to assist another teacher.  According to Mr Jeong, Six-pack was rather shaken by the events….

I take this opportunity to ask Mr Jeong is he knows anything about the new English teachers for our school or if it’s still too early to know who is being transferred to the Foreign Language High School.  Teachers are only allowed to remain at a school for a maximum of six years before being transferred to another school elsewhere in the province.  I know that Mr Lee, one of my co-teachers, is leaving and another English teacher who taught the third grade students has been granted a transfer to Jeonju but I’m curious about who is coming in and how this will change the dynamics of the department.  He tells us that we’re getting four new English teachers: All female, two in their early 40s, one new graduate and one just for admin.  I can’t help but feel sorry for the teacher who has been hired solely for admin in the English department!

With no other excitements in the day, I’m relieved when another slow day of desk-warming finally draws to an end and I head home looking forward to tonight’s dinner with our Kiwi-mom, her husband and my Canadian friends who have offered to fetch me from my apartment at 17:20.  I feel ridiculously overdressed for dinner but don’t really feel up to changing – and I don’t really have time to change either. 

Had it not been for the ‘casual’ remarks of several teachers recently that I no longer dress up for school, I would probably have been dressed in jeans and sweater as usual during the vacation period.  In an effort to prove my teachers wrong, I’ve donned a blazer, smart skirt and blouse and boots – today’s outfit kicks butt and I’m rewarded with a rather embarrassingly slow once over by Six-pack while I chat to Mr Baek who has just returned from his trip to England.  My friends seem to find this story rather amusing when I explain the reason for my formal dress as our Kiwi-mom puts the final touches on the most amazing home-cooked dinner I’ve had since arriving in Korea nearly four months ago.

Happy Valentine’s Day…Or Not (14 February)

It’s that dreaded time of year again or maybe it’s only dreaded by singletons and, being perennially single, I dread it every year.  As usual, in the days leading up to this day of love, the stores have been packed with Valentine’s Day gifts – mostly candy. 

Valentine’s Day is celebrated a bit differently in Korea.  Without going into too much detail about holidays here, Korea has a love associated day on the 14^th of every month.  As a result of this plethora of holidays, Valentine’s Day is a day for girls to give gifts (usually candy) to their boyfriends or boys whom they like.  White Day, on March 14^th, is when the boys are expected to reciprocate this gesture and I’ve heard that the White Day gifts are generally expected to be more expensive.   I decided to forgo the entire holiday and didn’t give any candy to anyone – not even Six-pack or cute doctor – much to the disgust of many students. 

I arrive at school rather peacefully only to discover that it’s been a rather eventful start to the day.  NZ2 arrived at 8:30am to find one of the Korean English teachers collapsed on the floor in front on our office while Six-pack attended to her and helped paramedics get her to the waiting ambulance.  Apparently she was still talking and was fairly coherent but didn’t have enough strength to stand up by herself.  This particular teacher has been looking really stressed out and overworked since I arrived at the school.  The frightening part is that she is only two weeks older than me.  The details of what happened are rather vague and I later hear that this teacher had low blood sugar which is what caused her to collapse.

The rest of the day provides far less excitement than it’s start as I have little to do at work but catch up on blog entries which permanently seem to be four to six weeks in arrears…

Oh, To Be A Korean Fly (11 February)

Despite following a regular timetable this week, classes are currently little more than glorified babysitting.  My first grade lessons are fairly easy considering I only see the students twice a week and genuinely like the classes; my second graders, while generally more of a challenge, have four lessons a week.  They’d already presumably given up on the English classes with me back in late November already and have just been biding their time with me until they are officially third graders and no longer subjected to classes with the foreigner.  Unfortunately, I’ve been biding my time too so this unexpected week of classes is just too much.  I’m happier than words can describe when my fantastic co-teacher tells me that it’s okay to just let the students watch a movie in this week’s lessons – enter NZ2 and his array of comedies. 

I settle on Get Smart which the boys seem to really enjoy despite our inability to get the English subtitles working in the lesson.  As a result, the movie is played without subtitles and despite unexpected valiant attempts from most of the class, it’s too much for many of them to cope with and they resort to doing other tasks – I’m not going to fight them on this point this week and, in all honesty, I’m impressed they last as long as they do.  That was yesterday.  Today, it’s a struggle just to get the dvd to actually play. 

Who's There?

As I wrestle with a computer more stubborn than my students, I become aware of constant movement outside of the classroom in the corridor – just beyond my current visibility. I see a couple of my students apparently communicating with someone outside the classroom and a few of them call me with big grins as they point to the person outside the room.  All I can see is someone wearing a brown jacket who keeps moving behind the pillar every time I look up.  Some students call me over and as I walk over to their side of the room, they start telling me not to worry while watching the person in amusement.  I’m confused.  Still struggling to get the dvd to play, a student finally offers to do it for me and curiosity gets the better of me.  As I head to the door, curiosity seems to get the better of the other person too as he peers through the window panel of the door, grins a familiar cheeky grin and rushes away leaving me more confused than ever as to what Six-pack was doing for the last 10 minutes and what my students are saying in hushed tones about “English teacher” and “waegook”.

Hello Again....and again and again

The lesson passes quickly and I soon find myself back at my desk.  It seems today is a day for running into Six-pack though as I step out of my office to find him arriving for his next class which is directly opposite my office.  He rushes into the safety of the classroom, a sanctuary where he can hide comfortably behind students.  I don’t think much of this coincidence as I go about the rest of the period doing things I need to do.  However, when I again see him at the beginning of the next lesson (when he doesn’t actually have a class of his own), milling around outside of my next class, I can’t help but start to wonder if I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone by mistake.  I’m doubtful that the last three encounters with him in three hours have all been lucky coincidence – particularly as he ducks into various rooms whenever he sees me in the corridors. 

Despite having seen him so many times already this morning, I’ve yet to greet him today so this is precisely what I do when I bump into him again on the stairs.  He greets me with the familiar cheeky grin and a low bow, looks me up and down with a grin and then continues on his merry way for the day.  As I head back to my office, I can’t help wishing for perhaps the thousandth time that I could be a fly on the wall that understands Korean and Korean culture – maybe then I’d understand the peculiar encounters I seem to have with so many of my colleagues.

Hello International Office... (10 February)

I’ve finally made it to the third floor office!  When I first arrived at my school, I was given a desk in the main office on the ground floor since there was no desk available for me in the international office.  This meant being in the same office as the vice-principal of my school which, to be honest, was a little bit uncomfortable but not unbearable.  Fast forward four and a half months and I’m finally able to move to the International Department which is on the third floor.  This is the office where all of the foreign teachers at my school are based.  Being a foreign language high school, we have native speakers in Japanese, Chinese, Spanish and English – all of the language offered at the school.  Of course, this also means that there are five different languages being spoken in my office at any given point in a day.  Something tells me that the ground floor office may start looking more and more appealing rather quickly….

Graduating With Robert Pattinson (9 February)

My desk calendar and diary both record my school’s graduation as Friday 11 February.  After all, graduation is the reason that I couldn’t change the dates of the second half of my winter vacation in order to go to Thailand with Catfish who leaves on Friday 11 February.  Therefore, when I arrive at school this morning, I’m a little upset to discover that graduation day has been changed and no one has told me.  When I dressed this morning, my gut instinct was to wear my black suit but I didn’t feel like wearing a suit just for deskwarming so I went with jeans, a casual top and sneakers instead.  Lesson 5: Always listen to your gut instinct.  Despite my colleagues’ reassurances that I’m fine as I’m dressed and it’s not necessary for me to nip across the road to my apartment and change, I feel self-conscious and awkward.  After all, when the PE teacher, who (understandably) lives in sweatpants and a hoodie, arrives at school dressed in a suit, you know you’re severely underdressed for the school day!

Since there’s no way to get out of going to the graduation ceremony, even though I don’t teach or even know any of the third grade students, I settle for hiding in a seat at the very back of the auditorium as the parents file in dressed smartly and bearing bunches of flowers for whomever they’re supporting today.  However, these are no ordinary bunches of flowers like we buy back home – no simple bunches of roses, mixed flowers, carnations, gladiolas, etc.; these bunches of flowers have all been Koreanized.  Since I didn’t have my camera with me for graduation, I’ve borrowed some of Catfish’s photos from the graduation ceremony at her school.

All together now...

I always find school gatherings in the auditorium entertaining to watch at the very least.  Since I clearly don’t understand anything being said, I pass the time observing personal behaviours instead.  It’s funny to watch Korean teachers falling asleep in their seats, students playing games, the younger teachers running around and taking photos and the prompt responses to any instructions made up front regardless of what everyone has been doing until that point.  Koreans bow in greeting and no exception is made even when they are seated: I love the synchronicity of it all.  The MC gives an instruction while the principal stands on the stage facing the school and I think that this is the preparation time for the bow.  Once ready, the MC says something else and the entire school bobs their heads in perfect unison while the principal bows on the stage.  At my last two schools in South Africa, we could’ve practised that for months and we probably still wouldn’t have achieved anything close to the synchronicity that these students have achieved with minimal practice. 

I’ve never seen our auditorium filled to capacity but this is an important occasion for the third grade students who have finally completed the three year endurance test that is passes for high school in Korea.  Following the head bows and formal greetings, the actual ceremony starts.  First on the agenda is singing the national anthem.  Catfish has already experienced a graduation ceremony at her main school and has told me about it so I actually have some idea as to what is going on right now.  A moment’s silence in remembrance of everyone who died in the Korean War and, I think, includes every soldier whether he has already done his military service or is currently doing his military service follows the national anthem.  Since military service is compulsory for all healthy men in Korea, it’s safe to say that all of the male staff and all of the men present today have done military service in some form.  The pride they place in their military service is incredible but that’s another post entirely. 

And Now for Something Completely Different

With the national anthem and moment’s silence out of the way, it’s time to get down to the business of acknowledging the survival of the class of 2010.  The MC says something and all of the third graders stand up and wait for their name to be called for their 25 second walk across the stage which symbolises their graduation.  It’s strange to see them all stand so that the parents can’t actually see their respective child’s walk to freedom; stranger still is that, just like at a Korean wedding, everyone seems to be talking during the pesky business of handing over the actual certificates.   The handing over of the certificates takes only 5 minutes as nearly 120 students are hustled across the stage for the last time in their school careers. 

With that out of the way, it’s time to acknowledge the really exceptional students – this means the ones who obtained 99% or 100% in everything since a ‘bad’ student’s marks seem to seldom be below 90% in Korea.  Finally, there are speeches from the students to the principal.  A representative, I’m not sure who, stands directly in front of the podium and the principal while giving this speech.  I find this most peculiar because it seems to relegate the majority of the people in the room to some near invisible presence since the focus is on the principal.  I’m used to speeches being made at school ceremonies but the speaker usually has to face the audience.  This photo is actually from Catfish’s graduation ceremony but my school was identical.

Robert Pattinson is Present!

The last thing to do before everyone is dismissed is the singing of the school song which has a fairly easy and catchy melody that is repeated.  From my vantage point at the back of the auditorium, I’ve been entertaining myself watching the audience members’ behaviour and actions throughout the ceremony – it’s been an enlightening experience.  Just before the school song starts, NZ2 taps me on the shoulder and asks for the name of the “guy who plays the vampire in Twilight”.  Strange timing but I fill him in on the name which is followed by him pointing out an audience member and commenting that he looks like the Korean version of Robert Pattinson.  Of all the times not to have my camera with me, this has to be worst.  This kid looks exactly like Robert Pattinson and I struggle to contain the laughter that rapidly bubbles from my throat!  The outfit, the hairstyle, the pose and even his facial expressions are identical that, if it weren’t for the obvious fact that he’s Korean and Robert Pattinson isn’t, he could easily be mistaken for the real deal – a Korean doppelganger. 

The entire ceremony is over by 11:30 – barely an hour – and we’re allowed to go home straight after the ceremony which is a rare thing at my school.  I’m so grateful for the early day as I can feel a cold forcing itself on me so I look forward to going home and resting.  Resting, of course, involves catching up television shows via the internet which leads to a long chat on Facebook chat with YeonJeong.  Sleep, however, wins in the end as I pass out on the futon in my spare room where my internet connection is.  At 19:30, my Canadian friend phones me to ask if her husband can bring around the sleeper couch and desk that I’ve bought from them.  I’m so excited that my apartment will finally be fully furnished that it takes me a while to realise that I should probably sweep out my spare room where the furniture will go since he and another mutual friend are getting everything ready to bring it down to me.  With the sleeper couch and desk in place, I finally feel like I’ve fully unpacked and my apartment is not only furnished but looking like a true home after four and a half months.

Insightful Boredom (19 January)

With winter camp over for the freshmen, several of my Korean colleagues seem to have far more flexible schedules since only the first and second grade students are currently at school.  NZ2 and I have only one class, the conversation class, for an hour each morning which we share.  Without the distraction of regular lessons (and no Six-pack either), each day seems to stretch interminably longer than the previous one.  This feeling seems to be mutual with many English teachers who seem to be whiling away the time surfing the internet, chatting and watching movies.  Catfish is no exception.

41 Messages

I recently spent hours uploading hundreds of photos to my Facebook profile since my computer had been given problems.  Since I’d uploaded over 2 500 photos over a weekend, I have yet to tag and caption all of the photos – in fact, I have yet to tag and caption any of the photos.  Catfish undertook to this for me yesterday while desk-warming which shows just how boring this period of no lessons is for most foreign teachers.  When Facebook told me that I had 41 new notifications from her – all relating to photos that she had tagged and commented on – I made the mistake of asking her if she had nothing better to do with her time.  Her response was to send me 41 messages via Facebook in the three hours that she has to spend at school – her school is kind enough to tell her to go home early most days and not to come in on several other days.  Admittedly, it did help to carve up the monotony of an otherwise tedious day.

The 'Hot' Girl

However, today’s conversation class provided some interesting insight into the thoughts of some of my students.  In a class of 12 students, there are only three boys.  We’ve tried to vary the speaking activities we give them in an attempt to make the lesson more interesting.  One of the activities is called Bend/Sit/Stand.  Simply put, three students hold a conversation on a given topic while posed in one of the three positions mentioned in the activity’s name and alternate positions each time the teacher calls “Switch”.  It’s an interesting exercise in seeing who can talk consistently in an unusual and, let’s face it, rather awkward position at times.  We decided to have the three boys do this particular activity and the girls were asked to choose a topic.  Being teenage girls who are probably trying to work out how boys think, they naturally decided to make the boys respond to the sight of a ‘hot girl’. 

Interestingly, the first thing one of the boys said was, “Look at that hot girl! She must be foreign!” When one of the other boys asked why she must be foreign, he elaborated by saying, “All hot girls are foreign”.  Exactly what is clarified as ‘foreign’, I’m not certain but it was interesting to hear a male student openly state a preference for non-Korean girls.  Of course, whether this is just talk and no action is unclear but the rest of the conversation provided a few interesting and insightful understandings into the Korean male psyche – at least, the teenage Korean male psyche!  It was also really interesting to see how tongue-tied these boys were in having to talk about a girl they find attractive.  One blushed profusely and even grabbed a hand-held fan to try and cool down his cheeks while all three of them seemed at a loss for words.  I jokingly turned to the girls and said, “Typical boys! Speechless when they have to talk to or about a girl!” which seemed to just make them even more tongue-tied.  Somehow, they manage to muddle through a highly entertaining conversation and NZ2 and I leave at the end of the lesson talking about how the boys in our school probably interact more with girls than boys at most high schools.  University seems to be regarded as the time to learn social skills and how to interact with members of the opposite sex.

A New Friend

My afternoon passes slowly and quietly apart from receiving a very sweet email from someone I’ve never met.  In November, my co-teacher asked me to help with the proofreading of a friend’s doctoral thesis.  I’ve never met him or even spoken to him since all of our communication has been via my co-teacher.  I’m slightly surprised to see an email from him in my personal email account but it’s such a sweet message that it really brightens my day.  As I read the last line in the message, I’m transported back to primary school: Also, I want to be your friend if you want to. Looks like I’ve just made a new friend, somewhere in Jeonju, whom I will hopefully meet one day.

Endings and Beginnings (14 January)

The day’s lessons seem to fly by with one exception.  Since it is the last day of winter camp (for the freshmen at least), the timetable is slightly different to that of the rest of the week so I cover today’s conversation lesson.  NZ2 has told me of the type of speaking activities he’s been doing in class and I work from his notes.  However, despite this approach, the lesson appears to be an epic (no pun intended!) fail and the students definitely seem to prefer NZ2 to me. 

Bad Chopsticks!

Today really does not seem to be my day as lunchtime is just as awkward as the conversation class.  First, I accidentally snub the gorgeous Mr Maths by not sitting in the seat next to him at lunch (which is apparently where I’m meant to sit following a seating arrangement that I still don’t quite understand), then I discover that, although I’m sitting next to Mr Jeong, I’m also sitting diagonally opposite Six-pack who is sitting between Mr Maths and Mr Baek.  It’s not a good chopsticks day for me and my hand is seriously cramping from my iron-tight grip on the chopsticks in an attempt not to embarrass myself.  It’s this very sight which seems to amuse Six-pack and Mr Baek (among other teachers) who pass various comments on my chopstick skills.  I’m tired and my hand is sore so I’m not in the mood for even joking comments but I try to smile and be gracious about the jokes nonetheless while I feebly attempt to eat some lunch.  Before I know it, the day’s lessons are done and it’s time to move to Dandelion Hall for the closing ceremony of the freshmen’s winter camp.

Help You? Sure!

On Wednesday and Thursday night, I spent 30 minutes helping a freshmen student to practise his English poem that he is reading in today’s winter camp closing ceremony.  My co-teachers seem to find it very strange that I voluntarily came back to school at 19:00 twice in one week just to help a student.  What they don’t seem to understand is that the students don’t ask for help very often – at least, not from the foreign teachers – so I jump at every opportunity when they do ask for my help because it shows that I’m not just a non-entity as far as they’re concerned.  I only aim to win over one student; anything more is a bonus.  The results are also worthwhile: Seeing that student on stage, a little bit more confident thanks to 60 minutes of my time, is far more rewarding that sitting at home playing around on the internet or our drinking with other foreigners.

Endings

It’s impressive to see the various classes perform things from their different lessons of the past two weeks – particularly when considering that some of these students have only just started learning Spanish, Japanese or Chinese during the two weeks of camp.  The students are all in high spirits as they leave the auditorium and I’m feeling a bit cheeky when a group of them call “Sarah teacher” behind me in the corridor as we’re leaving.  I know from the sheer volume of these voices that these are students from 102 so I match the volume and quality of their voices much to the amusement of several teachers and the confusion of several parents as we chat while heading back to the main school building.  One of the teachers later comments that it’s been a while since he’s seen new students take such an instant liking to a foreign teacher which I take as a compliment.  I’m touched when several of my students take the time to say goodbye to me and tell me that they’ll miss me; I’m even more touched when one of them brings me chocolates to say thank you for teaching her. 

Winter camp is finally over and I find myself a little sad that I won’t see these students again until the beginning of March.  We’ve just been told that the second part of the camp, scheduled for early February, has been cancelled by the Department of Education due to lack of funding.  With camp over, school will once again be running on skeletal staff and it’s a little depressing. 

Exciting Beginnings

As I head home for the weekend, I think of the news that my fantastic co-teacher shared with me earlier about her brother getting married the next day.  I’ve heard a lot about Korean weddings and hope to attend one while in Korea.  I didn’t see her before she left so I send her a text message wishing her well for the wedding and everything that she has to organise.  I’m barely home when she sends me a text message inviting me to the wedding.  Now I feel awkward.  I hope that she doesn’t feel obliged to invite me and I know that she’s going to be busy with family obligations so, as much as I’d love to attend the wedding, I feel that I shouldn’t and this is what I tell in a text message.  Clearly, I still haven’t learned lesson two!  In the mean time, I ask NZ2 for advice and he tells me to attend the wedding.  Catfish also tells me to attend it and then asks if I feel like Galbi for dinner – it turns out we both had unsatisfying lunches at school today.

I’m just about to phone my co-teacher to accept the invitation when she phones me.  It’s no imposition at all and she’d love to have me attend the wedding if I don’t mind travelling to Jeonju which she thinks is relatively far away.  I’m very excited to attend my first Korean wedding, which is what I tell her perhaps a little too enthusiastically, and she gives me the basic details with a promise to text me the address in Korean to show to a taxi driver.  I all but skip out of my apartment to meet Catfish who is already at the Galbi waiting for me with her Culture Shock book and the section on weddings earmarked for me.  I have to buy this book!

Galbi is as satisfying a meal as ever – perhaps even more satisfying than usual since we end up ordering a third portion to share instead of one each as we usually do; the staff seem to find this a bit amusing but happily comply.  It’s a compliment to the restaurant that we obviously enjoy the food!  We discuss the upcoming wedding and generally catch up on the week’s events – it’s mindboggling just how busy a week in Korea can be even when you think you’re not doing much.  There are any number of things that can, and do, happen that make the days memorable and these have to be shared with special friends who appreciate them as much as I do! 

From Galbi, we move to Angel-in-us for coffee and a continuation of our chat that seems to digress and bounce back to the various topics we simultaneously discuss.  Close to midnight, we rush down to Lotte mart to try to find a wedding card of some sort.  Catfish ends up singing the traditional Western wedding march in an attempt to explain what it is that we’re looking for but her current victims understand this to be an enquiry as to what time the store closes: We have 20 minutes.  We head to the stationery aisle with our fingers tightly crossed for luck as we laugh over several “Oh Korea” moments and generally de-stress after a busy two weeks of winter camp.