So I haven’t written a blog in nearly eight months. I wish I had a great excuse like my days have been filled with endless hours of mediation with a Tibetan monk, long sessions of Korean language lessons that have crippled my tongue and hand and I have ingested soo much Kimchi that my kiss is permanently spicy.. HOWEVER, none are completely factual. No mediation only a spine doctor that I visit twice a week as a preventative measure to make sure my life does not mirror Quasi Moto..that bell tower guy from Paris. I do not have the patience nor desire to learn a language I will never use again…my lessons consist of some CD’s I listen to after a few glasses of wine and whiteboard lessons from my students who can’t speak English. Though I can read the characters which I am quite proud of... And lastly, kimchi, tofu and rice aside, I do need my weekly quesadilla from Pearl Jam.
So where to pick up? I suppose as a sagitarius, it is only my nature to have a scattered blog with little direction or organization. I have pages of notes of blogs I intended to write back in July and even as early as May..but what is it that has kept me from putting my fingers to the keyboard? I blame Korea. These children are slave driven. Seven hours of school sitting next to students with the same color hair, same uniform, and same eye color. BORING. Then an additional 4-6 hours of english academy, math academy, piano academy, writing academy, tae-kwon do academy and who knows what else academy. To top that, they go home to tackle several more hours of homework and go to sleep restless just to repeat the same thing the next day. So I have decided to be the antithesis of my students. A lazy teacher with no worries, no real stress, and for that matter no real job. My life here almost paralyzes me and prevents me from producing any sound thoughts. That is why I have dismissed my blog these past few months….a bit dramatic, eh?
So I guess the nature of my blog will change a bit. It will be more of a reflection on the things I have experienced and enjoyed rather than a play by play. I have scattered notes and e-mails to myself detailing stories and funny instances I want to share. I guess no time like the present. Back on the wagon I am.
Monday, January 25, 2010
A short break
Friday, May 29, 2009
Quasi Quarantine
Monday, April 27, 2009
New School, New Heathens
It has been over two months since I have written....and I am sure my 7 followers have been itching their feet to get the latest scoop in Korea....;)
So just when I spend a few hours writing a blog about my teaching job, these more than shady and sometimes sneaky Koreans decide to shift me to a new school.
Now I will refrain from the long version as I am sure the details will resemble a bad lifetime movie BUT just to give you a preview of what goes down behind closed opaque windows at english academies I will share a shortened version.
My director, who I will refer to as Jafar, decided to close down the Kindergarten portion of my school. That meant we only had elementary school and too many teachers. So, one of us had to go...how they decided, I will never know..Jafar posed the new job as an opportunity to teach older kids as I was the "most qualified," however, I am pretty sure it was just a scam to muster up my confidence in hopes I would take the new job without resistance. After speaking with the new school (which Jafar also owns) I decided I did not want to take the new job as I was comfortable with my current environment but thanked them for the "opportunity." Please take note of the quotation marks.
SO, in short, Jafar comes back and basically says, well it is not really an opportunity, you sort of have to. I am not sure who taught our head Korean teachers and Korean directors english but somewhere along the line translation was lost because Koreans (at least the Korean bosses I have dealt with) seem to believe that "choice" and "have to" are synonyms. Strange. Though, after spending four months here, I think they clearly know the difference but have learned to manipulate the language to their advantage. So after endless negotiating, and triumphant assertiveness............. they won and I signed with the new school. Fiesty little things.
I had to head to Seoul for a week of the most intense training of my life. Thinking about this makes me nauseas. One week of hot hot hell. Eight hours in the classroom and countless hours staying up learning english grammar, reading and role-playing classroom scenes. Unfortunately I had left my Xanax in my bathroom cupboard next to the Q-tips.
I passed, barely. Though I did have to retake the moral conduct test..apparently I think it is okay to come intoxicated to class and that it is okay to accept concert tickets from student's parents...I still am unsure what is wrong with the latter....
So yes, now I am teaching hormonal, homogeneous, well-heeled, heathens about topics such as racism, mars, right to vote, plastic surgery, and dust storms. The pre-teen and teenage boys touch each other in ways (like picking off lint from the zipper area..if you will) that they would be beaten on the playground for back in the states...and the ladies carry around mirror's singing the only 4 pop songs in all of Korea and wear sizes smaller than my pinky toe. I am pretty much entertained for 6 hours a day. But, on a more serious note...they are more stimulating and have the ability to converse in english on a level that ignites conversation far more interesting than "Hello how are you, I'm fine thank you."
Just recently, the topic in my class was racism, which my homogeneous heathens have no concept of and who can blame them? The only black person they know is Norbert teacher (a 6 foot plus man from Brooklyn) who they refer to as Africa teacher...charming no? But through the thick layers of ignorance and lack of cultural experiences outside their own their is hope that these students do have love in their hearts to accept those that are different. During the class, the students had to break up in groups and design an anti-racism poster. The students drew a white girl and a black boy with the slogan different colors same minds. I was touched by their innovative and perceptive minds to create a powerful poster; especially after they had just learned the word racism for the first time 2.5 hours beforehand.
So, though the school is set up quite differently, teaching two three hour classes 4:30-10:30, I am able to optimize my day and can go to school with the mindset that I can actually teach these kids something. I can go one step further than teaching english grammar and teach them about issues such as racism, self-esteem, travel, love and culture. I can pick their minds and share a different opinion or view with them as I white twenty something liberal from the east coast. Though Sarah Palin did come up in one of the topics last week and I decided to refrain from any pro-choice speeches because I didn't want mother and father's of daughters calling up my school claiming I am polluting their minds with ideas of birth control and women's rights and choices....
So I will keep you posted as to my new experience. So far my hormonal heathens are quite entertaining though I usually am due for a bevo or 4 after a day's work.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Lunar New Year
We went out the first night with Young’s friends from high school. Though Young said most of them don’t drink too much they sure opened up to us foreigners and showed us a good time. Kayla & I experienced our first Korean Club. It was quite interesting. Boys come with boys and stick to dancing in a group of boys. Girls do the same. There was a fine line between a Korean club with twenty something’s and a junior high dance. I couldn’t quite get my bearings. Our group was escorted to a table close to the dance floor and the stage. We did not hesitate to shake things up and challenge the norm. We were trying to share dance moves with the groups of boys-though they looked like they were going to pee themselves. I was doing my signature drop to the floor move when Young’s Korean friend whispered in my ear “that it was not a trend in Korea to do that…” I think that translates too ‘your dance moves are too provocative and you may get us kicked out.” So I refrained and opted for the step touch with melodic claps to go to the beat.
Different acts would come on stage and the girls would run to be in the front row like high school girls. The performers would lip sync to cheesy Korean pop songs and the girls would go wild if a little skin was shown. Towards the end a group of men came out and stripped down to thongs and aviators. After dancing with some Korean girls and secretly showing them my drop move (which they loved and emulated) we realized we had overstayed our welcome. So we decided to get a love motel. Now a love motel, which is quite common in Korea, serves a great purpose for all young lovers. It is a place to go to and have a little rendezvous. After witnessing the awkwardness of the young men and women at this Korean Club, I am not sure how a man lures a woman to come to a love motel with him but I do know it happens often.
Sunday morning we headed to Young’s family’s house. Her mother and father were so welcoming though we could not communicate. Their apartment was modest. Three bedrooms, living room and a kitchen. Her parents slept on the floor in their bedroom and they never turned on the heat. Young has three sisters and a brother. We took a little nap and headed to the beach. We had some Outback Steakhouse (which I have never been to in the U.S) and enjoyed some beers. We can back home and had some Soju and wine with her mother before going to bed.
Monday morning is the actual Lunar holiday. A feast is prepared and the family bows to their ancestors. A large table of food is prepared and Young and her brother took a piece of food from each dish that would be scarified for her father’s deceased parents. The ceremony and bowing was elaborate and a piece of food from all the dishes was used in this ceremony. Young’s mother did the same for her family but her sacrifice was much smaller. A tiny table was used with only several dishes that food was taken from and sacrificed. We experienced for the first time the traditional practices and underlying sexism deeply rooted in Korean culture. Young explained that the reason many families want a son is because when a family has a daughter they know that one day she will marry and become part of her husband’s family. She will then take part in ceremonies and holidays with him and his family. That is why on this Lunar New Year holiday only Young (because she is not married) and her brother were at the house. Her three sisters (who are married) were celebrating with their husband and husband’s family. Parent’s wish for a son so when he is married their daughter-in-law can prepare food and practice the rituals and sacrifices for her husband’s family once they have passed away. It took them four tries to have a son. A part of me felt sorry for women in Korea. Knowing that the day a female is born a parent’s reaction is most likely “we have to try again.”
After the ceremony we bowed to her parent’s as a sign of respect and received some money. Her parents wished for us good health and happiness for the coming year. We then ate lots of amazing food with her family. We had the duk gook soup, which has rice noodles. It is eaten every Lunar New Year and the soup makes you turn a year older.
We then traveled an hour away to meet her uncle who is a monk. We visited the temple he lives at and walked all over the beautiful site. Her uncle invited us in for some tea and greeted us with some farts. It set the mood and made the atmosphere quite comfortable. He definitely didn’t fit the mold I envisioned of a monk. But I enjoyed that. He was witty and had charm. He asked why my face was so small and made fun of my friends for “looking pregnant”. For a monk he seemed to live a pretty nice life. He had access to Internet, TV, and music. Instead of us asking him questions related to life he spent most of the time asking us questions and inquiring about our thoughts. He asked who we thought were the four most important people in the world and other such provoking questions. It was an amazing experience.
That night I went to my first Jjim Jil Bang which is a Public Bath equipped with a sauna and hot bathes. The women and men have separate areas and everyone is naked walking about. I was a bit nervous to just go all out and expose myself….but at some point I figured if Korean women were going to make fun of my goods…at least I couldn’t understand them. The bathes were relaxing; ranging in temperature, style and salts. There was also a steam room and a place to shower and scrub yourself. There was lots of staring taking place as the older Korean women seemed intrigued by young foreign chicks bodies and the places we did or did not have hair… I have to stay we were curious too. It is difficult not to stare when everyone is naked. And it was hard not to notice how little they shave in certain areas…I’ll let you imagine the rest…
Later, we went back to Young’s house and spent time with her two sisters and their families. Their husbands spoke English well and we laughed and drank an inappropriate amount of Soju. I learned (the hard way) that if someone pours you a shot of Soju and you finish the shot in one sip, your empty glass implies that you want more. So after 6 or 7 shots, my friend Kayla informed me that if I didn’t want Young’s brother-in-laws to keep pouring me shots then I should sip slowly…who knew? After drinking and laughing and trying to communicate we all ventured to Norebong-a karaoke room. Young’s parents, her second sister and family (including 2 adorable young boys Andrew and Alan) and her other brother-in-law all joined in for an evening at Norebong. We sang and danced to Korean songs, American jams and even the Korean National song. It was my first Norebong experience and definitely memorable. Though I am not one to carry a tune, I did seem to enjoy busting out some tunes…this was possibly due to my abundance of soju consumption. We ended the night by enjoying some Makkoli (rice liquor) and the Andrew and Alan ages 9 and 7 were still lively and enjoying some too!
My experience in Busan with Young and her family was more than I could have asked for. We were able to experience the holiday through the eyes of a Korean family. Her family was so warm and welcoming and it was a weekend that will for sure be one of the most memorable times in Korea.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
A little cough
So a quick word about getting sick in Korea. First of all, I don’t think the word sick translates or translates well anyway. There are no sick days here in Korea. There are also no substitute teachers. So, that pretty much means you will teach regardless of how many tissues fill your trash can or if you have no voice to even share with the students. I found this out day 4 of teaching.
I woke up sick. I mean real sick. I could barely talk, barely walk. I arrived at school and the teachers immediately took notice of my gaunt appearance. I figured they would send me home with some tea and tell me to get some rest. But I was wrong. The only medicine I received was a vitamin C sugar pack and the kind words of “Oh, Megteacher must get better.”
I was warned that I would get sick. New environment, new homeland germs, and lots of students who don’t cover their mouths and wipe their nose drippings anywhere that seems fitting...but I didn't know it would be this bad. I might mention the lack of ventilation at the school. There are no windows, so stale air circulates around the school 24 hours a day.
By the next day, the teachers realized I was in bad shape…Perhaps because I could not speak and so I was taken to the doctor’s. Now just a sidenote... I do not have my health card yet, but fear not, I was just given someone else’s name and ID # and sent on my way. I already like the flexibility of the Korean healthcare system. I told the receptionist my name was Deanna. She asked my last name (in perfect English might I add) and I pretended I didn’t understand her because I in fact didn’t know the girl’s last name. I figured this would be a sure sign that I was an impostor! My mother always encourages me to play stupid when obstacles such as these arise. Somehow my blank stare or more than usual pale skin hinted that I was helpless. She accepted me as Deanna and I was let in to see the Doctor. After he diagnosed me with bronchitis and laryngitis, I was escorted to the “injection room,” yes, injection room. Before I could get a handle on the room situation I had a needle in my rear! Then I was gently pushed on a bed and injected with a less than friendly needle in my arm. It burned a bit. I was patched up and sent on my way.
On Friday, the teachers were very kind and figured out a way to let me rest so I did not have to teach. By the weekend I had also managed to get an ear infection which was pretty painful. It was Sunday night, I barely knew anyone and couldn't speak a word of Korean to save my life. After tears and a phone call with mom I decided to take myself to the hospital. I told the cab driver hospital and made wild gestures to indicate my pain. He put on his flashers and magically turned into an ambulance. He was running red lights and cutting cars off left and right. The doctor gave me some Tylenol and my visit was free. He said he liked New York City and Obama. I was fine with that.
My foreign sickness has since passed and I hope to never deal with such a miserable situation while I am here. I now have a new appreciation for sick days and what they really stand for back in the U.S.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Megteacher
That is what the students call me. No Miss or Ms., just a melodic sounding Megteacher. I have grown to like the sound of it. I have been a teacher at Swaton Language School for kids for thirteen days and have observed many things with regards to Korean education and culture.
My school is on the 4th floor of a modern building in downtown Cheongju. Outside of the elevator, you leave your outdoor shoes in a cupboard and swap them for some swank old man slippers. Behind the glass door of Swaton, a friendly receptionist greets the parents and students as they shuffle in before the 9:30am morning bell.
Kindergarten
The mornings at Swaton consist of Kindergarten from 9:30am-2: 30pm. There are forty students that occupy 5 classrooms and are divided on the basis of age and ability. The classrooms, appropriately named Brown, Boston (Boston University), Julliard, MIT and Harvard plant a subtle seed in the student’s minds of what their intended goals should be for the far future. The students who attend Swaton come from very fortunate upbringings. Families who have enough money to send their children to English school opt for schools like Swaton instead of sending them to Korean public school kindergarten.
I have a newfound respect and admiration for Kindergarten teachers across the globe. Though the children at Swaton are Kodak cute, it can feel more like babysitting then teaching. Though the classes only run for forty minutes, an accomplishment in some of the classrooms can be to get a student to sit in his/her chair for the entire time. It can be frustrating as well because when you are aggravated and want to discipline them it is difficult. The Korean teachers can quickly resort to their Korean language and reprimand the students. And they listen (quite quickly might I add.). However, their English skills are very basic so using phrases like “if you don’t listen or be quiet you will be sent to the teacher’s room” really has no meaning. I have found that being quiet with my arms crossed is the most effective method for the students to realize that “Megteacher is mad.” Or “Look, Megteacher no talk.” For the most part, though, the Kindergarten students listen pretty well as they understand at a young age how serious a proper education is in Korea. Money is not spent on designer clothes or fancy cars; education is valued more than any material possession that fills a closet or a fancy car that can be shown off outside a dinner party. Though I am all smiles when 2:30pm rolls around, I do enjoy the younger kids and find their energy and uncontaminated souls to be refreshing. They are a constant reminder of innocence and the simple joys of life.
Elementary
My afternoons consist of students between the ages of nine-twelve who come to English academy after an arduous day at regular private school. The students have a more extensive English vocabulary and have begun to learn tenses as well as ideas and concepts associated with the English language. I prefer teaching the older students as the 1.5 hours spent with the students are more rewarding. Not to mention more is accomplished in the classroom. The students are fascinated with New York, Obama, Angelina Jolie, pizza and Brad Pitt. The ever so tactful students were particularly interested in my freckles. Half my arm was exposed during class last week once the heat was turned back on in the school. Some of the students noticed the “dots” that dazzled my arm. I tried to explain to them that the sun causes orange spots to appear on my skin. They looked rather confused so I rolled my sleeve up to show them that my entire arm was covered with these orange specs. Well fear not, the reaction from the students was similar to telling the students I had some kind of contagious disease. I felt a bit insecure about my doting dots but I soon recovered. Thick skin is sometimes necessary here.
I have to give the students credit as their days are filled with school, piano lessons, English lessons, studying and an occasional computer game before their heads hit the pillow. The Koreans are very ambitious and have a very strong work ethnic. I know many nine year olds back in the states who could certainly benefit from a semester abroad here in Korea.
I am happy overall with my teaching situation. My days and hours of work vary and my work week is never longer than 30 hours. Though I am just a baby to the profession, teaching has proven to be a rewarding experience. I am teaching students a skill that will be useful for any future endeavor and will potentially help them succeed in whichever profession they choose to pursue.
My only complaint about teaching is that these schools are run very similarly to any business. No student can ever receive below a “B” and comments on monthly report cards can only be positive and praise the students for their hard work. The school does not want to lose any business so it sometimes feels like our profession is belittled to protect the school’s image. But, I am not here long enough to add my two cents about the way things work.
Til later…
Saturday, January 3, 2009
New Year, New Life
Early afternoon in Cheongju and I am of course making the most of my cultural experience by enjoying a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese for a late breakfast (I do not believe there are unlimited mimosa on sangria brunch places lining the streets of Cheongju). It is difficult to part ways with some western indulgences.
I have been here for nearly a week and I have been pretty cautious (though crazy curious) with my new surroundings. I am trying to observe the people, way of life and customs before I become a participant of everyday life…or humiliate myself and negatively brand all Americans forever and always…
My apartment is cozy; baring the necessities for an individual to lead a comfortable life. My bathroom comes furnished with just a toilet, sink and shower head…no actual shower. I believe it will take a few weeks to finesse the style of showering sans shower curtain, though I do find the new way of taking a shower quite liberating....
I had four hours of teacher training on New Years Eve and apparently that established I could teach small Korean children English. As flattering as that was, I was a bit concerned with my ability to A) teach small children while lacking a teaching degree and B) teach small children who don’t speak English (still while lacking a teaching degree). Those concerns were quickly put to rest as I was told I would start on Friday January 2nd and teach 6 classes. I did not have enough time to think of a way to dodge my obligation.
I went home, friendless, terrified and wildly sober. I passed out on my bed, coat and all, and woke up nearly an hour before the New Year…I decided I should make this a sober new years (the first since I was 14 and attended first night with Linda Duggan and her family) and instead ravaged through my suitcase to find chocolate given to me by the Daley family to ration during my time abroad. However, this was the only other vice accessible before midnight and I could not hold back. I inhaled the chocolate, fell back on the bed and welcomed the New Year, not hungover but with a stomachache. I vow never to eat chocolate bars again.