Day 357 - What I will miss about Korea

I'm not exactly sure what day I'm on, but it must be around the 357 range, because my contract is a year, and I'm leaving in five days, a bit before it officially ends.

I am sometimes very bad at creating closure with people, places, ages, etc., but my goodbye to Korea has been slow and long, so I thought I'd take a moment to write out some of the things I will miss.

Things I will miss about living/teaching in Korea:

- Walking around by myself past midnight and feeling completely safe.  I have never felt as safe in a country as I do here.  (Which is ironic, as I'm on the border of a crazy-eyed, nuke-happy dictator). 

-  Low crime in general.  I haven't had to think about pickpockets.  My friends have had phones and wallets returned to them.  I've left my bags outside for one reason or another. 

- Public Transportation.  It costs me a couple of dollars to get to Seoul -- an hour away -- on a direct bus.  The buses are direct and extensive.  The metro is clean, fast, and extensive.  It's great not having to be dependent on a car.

- Not worrying about taxes when shopping or eating out.  The price listed is what you'll pay.  How pleasant.

- And on that note, not worrying about tipping in general.  I'm not miserly, and I know that tipping in the States is the bulk of the waiter/waitress' salary.  But it's nice that it's built in here.  And that it's still cheaper (Korean food), or similarly priced

- Korean food.  Mmmm.  Inexpensive access to delicious Korean barbeques, soups, bimbimbop, kimbop, etc.

- The tight knit community of foreigners in rural areas.  I live near a small town called Geumchon, and it's pretty cool to walk around and bump into friendly faces. 

- Free rent, inexpensive health care, cheap phone bills.

- "Service".  Service is what Koreans call little gifts that are thrown in for free with purchases.  Free drinks, free time at noraebong, free random stuff...

- Noraebong!  Noraebong is Karoake in a purer form.  It's private rooms with couches, tamborines, and giant TVs and mics set up for singing.  You and your friends choose all the songs, and you can be as ridiculous as you want.

- Kind and hospitable Korean people.  I've had so many stringless free lunches here.  And people who come up to me and help me carry things (suitcases, guitar cases, etc.), or just want to chat.  Strangers who help me with directions. 

- The children here.  Are. So. Incredibly. Cute.  It's absurd.

Ilsan 

- My students and the quirky, sweet things they say.  The ones who really want to communicate with me, so they come up and repeat "How are you?" over and over, or say "This is for you," and hand me random things from my desk (I think every ESL teacher grows to resent that lesson...).  The students who insist on taking photos with me, who try to have Google Translate conversations with me, who request Justin Bieber songs...And the quiet sweet ones who bow at me and murmer "Hello."  The artwork and failed attempts at spelling and grammar....

- My co-teacher.  Her muttering to herself in English and Korean and then saying "Why?!" when I laugh at her.  Her endless dramas with her bf.  Her existential crisis over teaching.

- My apartment.  It's a good size, and it's in the middle of a street that has restaurants, grocery stores, pharmacies, bakeries, convenience stores, etc.  I love living alone.

- Pizza School. These are a chain of pizza places that have 5 dollar pizzas (actually, more like $4.50 if you convert it.)  Pretty delicious...

- All the quirky things I take for granted.  Subway arrival music.  Larva cartoons on the bus.  Street food.  The everpresent feel of Psy...

**

There are probably many more things, but these are the ones that came to mind first. 

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A Day in the Life of a GEPIK Public School Teacher in Korea

The time has come for me to describe a typical day in my life – the life of a public school ESL teacher in Korea.  Specifically, a GEPIK teacher.  GEPIK stands for Gyeonggi English Program in Korea, and it consists of the public schools in the Gyeonggi-do province – the province surrounding Seoul, South Korea.  There are many reasons that I chose GEPIK over a different public or private position, and I'll discuss them in another post.

For now I will outline a typical Thursday. It's my busiest day, so  you'll be getting an idea of some of the extra duties I have besides teaching.

Warning: this post is for people interested in the reality of teaching public school in South Korea.  If you're already teaching here, or aren't interested in doing so, this will be pretty boring. 

A Day in the Life of a GEPIK Teacher

My alarm first rings at 6:30 a.m.  I hit the nine minute snooze several times (no idea how to change the time on that), and eventually acknowledge the reality of existence at 7:00.  Acknowledging existence = opening eyes and picking up laptop to check mail, news stories, etc.

Oh wait, you didn't want a play by play of my morning routine?   Fine.

My classes start at 9:00, which means I'm required to be at school at 8:30, and, as I've a half hour commute, I leave my apartment around 7:40 to catch one of the two buses that go to my school. I think there's a bus schedule, but I don't know how to access it, and the buses seem to come at different times every morning, so I make sure to go out early enough to catch one by 8:00.

When I arrive at school, I change into my school slippers.  Every teacher has a pair of school shoes that they keep in a locker at school.  Students also take their outdoor shoes off and attend classes in socks.

Before class I scan the day's lesson plans ( provided with the curriculum, but sometimes we modify them) and discuss with my co-teacher how we'll conduct the class.  She generally leads the 3rd and 4th graders because their English levels are so low: it's necessary to explain games/new vocab, etc. in Korean. 

On Thursdays I arrive a little earlier because Thursday (and Tuesday) is a Broadcast English morning.  This means that my face adorns the screens of all of the classrooms from 8:30-8:40.  Don't freak out if you're considering doing public teaching – many schools don't do a morning English broadcast.  Also, it's really relaxed and the camera isn't on me most of the time:

Morning English Broadcast

Morning English Broadcast consists of me reading a children's book on camera to the students.  I go into a special soundproof studio (adjoining the teacher's lounge) and stand behind a podium across from a small video camera on a tripod manned by a student.  Behind me on the wall "Morning English" is spelled out in happy bright letters.  Across from me is another podium with three microphones for the three students who assist me in Morning English.

The children's books that we are going through all have accompanying music videos (the text becomes the lyrics and the images are scans of the book pages).  The music video plays on TV screens across the school, and when it finishes, I start my lesson.

I greet the students, ask how they are and how the weather is, and respond to the same questions in a super cheerful I'msohappytosharemylanguage voice.  I then pick up the book – we're currently doing "The Animal Boogie" and exclaim over the pretty illustrations.  "Wow" I say.  "Look at the juuuunglllle."  (My co-teacher instructed me to be very enthusiastic and say "wow" as many times as possible.)

I teach the children some new vocabulary from today's page (we read one new page per broadcast), and my three helpers listen and repeat the new words.  Unfortunately, because it's a children's book, some of the words are borderline nonsensical – thankfully no Dr. Seuss yet (though I have had to "translate" his books for my students back in Sweden). Don't hate on me – I adore Dr. Seuss.  It's just that he, and many children's book authors, did not consider the confusing implications their words might have in the world of ESL.  Explaining English words is difficult enough without having to define "thneeds" and "truffluas."

So, for morning English, I get to slooowly say words for my helpers to sloooowly repeat.

"Skyyyyy"
"Creeeeeature"
"Boooooogie Wooooogie Oooooogie"
"Flaaaaappy Flaaaaap"

Here's the video they watch:
 

I teach 23 sessions of 40 minutes per week, from 3rd-6th grade.  Each grade is divided into two or three classes: 6-1, 6-2, 6-3, etc.  This means that each lesson plan is repeated two or three times to the different classes.  On Thursday I have class from 9:00-9:40, 9:50-10:30, 10:40-11:20, 11:30-12:10, 1:00-1:40, and 1:50-2:30.  It's the only day I have six classes, and one of them is a special after school English class with advanced students.  I get paid extra for this class because the GEPIK contract signs a teacher up for a 22 class work load.  (I have the option of getting paid for this class or for using it towards vacation - 8 hours = 1 day of vacation.)

The curriculum our school uses consists of textbooks, teacher guides, CDs and a workbook with additional excercises.

A typical lesson

Each class begins with a song (which I shared with you on this post) to get the students seated and focused.  After the song, I ask the students: "What can you do?" and they shout back "I can study English!" (Yes, some good ol' repetition and phrase memorization.) 

After the song, I do greetings: "How's it going?" (useful phrase, eh) "Who's TIRED?" (make sleepy face, hand pillow), "Who's HUNGRY?" (point at stomach) – the kids are always hungry – "Who's ANGRY?" (stomp foot), etc.  And then we get to the weather.

Every single day in April my kids stubbornly (and loudly) insisted that the weather was "Hot!  Very Very Hot!" (with accompanying tugging at shirt and fanning face motions).  I, equally stubbornly and loudly insisted that it was COOL. Because it was.  Our average morning temperatures in April were under 68F (20C) and I would shiver in my jacket at the bus station, only to end up, an hour later, in a heated debate over the warmth of the weather.  To be fair to my kids, the afternoons often warmed up – but that wasn't the question.  I would point at their jackets asking why they needed them in hot weather, which got confused looks – not because of my logic but because of my using unscripted English words.  Sigh.

After the greetings, we start the lesson.  The textbooks we use are laid out in chapters, and each chapter has a theme and set of key expressions/words that the students should know after completing the chapter. The chapters are split into sections (called periods) which focus on a different aspect of learning English: speaking, reading/writing, listening, etc. 

So: currently we are doing Lesson (chapter) 4 in 6th grade.  This chapter is titled "When is your birthday" and revolves around dialogues about when events will be taking place.  For example:

"When is your birthday?"

"It's April 5th."

"What will you do?"

"I will have a cookie party/pizza party/barbecue party."

"When is Earth Day?"

"It's April 22nd."

"What will you do?"

"We'll pick up cans and bottles and have an Earth Day parade."

The students will be taught the questions and responses, and some accompanying vocabulary to play with.  In this unit, some of the new vocabulary is: bottle, parade, people, office, and the months of the year.

I sometimes take issue with the phrasing of things in our books, because I don't know anyone who would say "I will have a cookie party" instead of "I'm going to have some friends over, and we'll make some cookies."  I've actually never the term "cookie party" used.  Or "Barbecue party" for that matter.  We also had a chapter where we taught the expression "I'm in the 6th grade" instead of "I'm in 6th grade." (Or even more realistically, when someone asks what grade you're in: "6th.")

Our class period consists of watching a few of the CD dialogues on the big screen TV at the front of the class (connected to a computer), and asking the students comprehension questions about what the characters are doing/saying.  The students also listen to and repeat the dialogues.  Often there are interactive questions on the CD that the students answer in their workbooks.  We then go over the answers together.

There are usually activities in the workbooks for the students to complete depending on the focus of the period.  If the focus is reading/writing, the students will be tracing or writing sentences/words in their books.  If the focus is speaking, students will create dialogues together based on picture prompts in their books.

Almost every period has a subject/vocabulary-themed game suggested in the Teacher's Guide at the end. We change many of these games because we know the types of activities our kids would prefer. 

During the lesson, my co-teacher and I tag teach.  She leads one section of the period while I a) get the next one ready b) walk around the classroom and make sure the kids are listening to her, or c) assist her. 

I lead the majority of the sections in 5th and 6th grade, and she leads the majority of 3rd and 4th grade.

Lunch

Our lunch break is 50 minutes, and I eat with the rest of the school in the cafeteria.  You have an option to bring your own lunches, which I would only recommend if you're a picky eater or have special dietary restrictions.  Even if you're a picky eater, you should see if you can try a lunch or two to see if you like it.

Reasons I eat in the cafeteria:

1) It's cheap.  The food is subsidized by the government, and I pay about 2 dollars per lunch. 

2) It's social.  All of the teachers and students eat in the cafeteria, and it's often the only contact I have with the other teachers. 

3) It's filling and decent food.  The lunch trays have five food sections on them, and there's always something that I like.  Meals always include kimchi, a ton of rice, a bowl of soup, some sort of vegetable, and usually some sort of meat.  Everything is eaten with chopsticsks and a spoon.

Sometimes there are some funky looking things on my tray which I don't try, (I am averse to the idea of eating anything with suction cups on it), but quite often there is a pleasant surprise - fresh fruit, yogurt, etc.

Afternoon classes

Two days a week I have no classes after lunch, two days a week I have one class after lunch, and on Thursdays I have two.  My second one is a special class which I get to design and implement by myself.  I really like this class because I get full control over the content and can throw in things that I don't have time for in my other classes. 

In my special class, we do a lottery every two weeks where I pick out the name of two students from a bag, and they win a small prize (pencil, candy, etc.).  If students have three strikes against them, their names aren't in the drawing. 

My special classes are usually grammar and subject themed lessons with funny youtube clips, games, and pop songs thrown in.  By the end of each lesson my students should have learned five new vocabulary words. 

I've heard of English teachers doing a variety of extra classes including teaching a class of other teachers at the school, teaching a creative writing class, teaching a song class, theatre class, or a sports class. 

The front of my school (view from classroom window).

The rest of my day

I usually have a few hours after class to prepare future lesson plans, etc.  Only a tiny fraction of this extra time is needed for school-related stuff, and I'm often online reading articles and books, or blogging (and yes, checking Facebook).  Sometimes the 3rd grade teacher in the classroom next to us has a lot of food from the students' parents, and she invites us over to eat and gossip.  Or, in my case, eat and watch them gossip.  I never take work home.

My bus drops me off around five, and I finish my evening with normal activities that aren't country/job specific - grocery shopping, dinner making, TV watching, writing, reading, socializing, etc.

Grocery shopping can be pricey here, depending on whether you to keep vegetables and fruits in your diet.  These tend to run higher than they did in the States, and they occasionally climb above Swedish prices too (which is just scary.)  Meat can also be quite expensive, as is cheese and nuts.  Nothing is too crazy though, except the occasional foreign item (one avocado will set you back five dollars), Skippys peanut butter hits six dollars (in certain locations).  A liter of milk averages about $2.10.  

Making dinner is a little depressing because I don't have an oven.  And guess what?  If you're coming to teach English in Korea, you won't have an oven either! (Unless you buy it yourself or get extremely lucky).  Also, the food you will be working with are different here, unless you're planning on funding the beach houses of the owners of the foreign food stores in Seoul.  Foreign food store = place to spend money when you're having a everythingisweirdhereandijustwantsomemacandcheeseinaboxtoremindmeofhome moment.  Not the best place for general groceries.

A TV came with my apartment, but it doesn't work.  I have friends who get some decent international shows though.  I prefer to watch TV on my computer regardless.

Socializing in Korea is not too difficult, depending on location.  Other  native English teachers are in the same boat as you - in Korea for a limited amount of time and looking to make friends. In and around Seoul, there are bars, clubs, restaurants and other forms of nightlife like noraebongs (Korean karaoke rooms).  For daytime, there are many clubs - sports, hiking, cultural, Korean classes, writing, book clubs, taekwondo, etc -  you can join which can be found on meetup.com, facebook, and by asking around. 

Reading is something I do on my kindle.  There are English bookstores in Seoul, but as I live an hour+ away, it's much more convenient to download books.  Also, they weigh a lot and you probably won't reread most of them.  I made a very hesitant transition, but am extremely glad that I did. 

**

That's about it for a day in the life of a public school English teacher in Korea.  This post is for my detail starved mother. :)

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Day 23 - Welcoming my new co-teacher

My new co-teacher started working with me this last Monday, the 19th.  If you recall, I wasn't too excited about switching from my previous co-teacher. He was the first person I met in Korea (besides the enthusiastic taxi driver), and we had worked well together. Also, he had ten years of teaching experience and has been at my school for a few years. She is new to the area, to the school, and the teaching profession. As in, very new to the teaching profession. As in, a 22-year-old who graduated in February. Not that I mind – but it's my role to be the confused newbie. I need help navigating the area, the school, and the classroom. Or I thought I did. (OK, literal navigation, yes, I definitely do.)

During the final days before my move, my mom and I went out to fika, the Swedish version of a coffee break (except with quality coffee and tasty treats). Actually, the term "fika" gets thrown around quite a bit, and is often used as a term for any sort of quick meal outing/get together.  Kind of like when you're catching up with an old friend and say "Oh let's do coffee sometime," but you mean "let's get together at a cafe or restaurant and catch up."  Actually, pretty much exactly the same.

Semla (not my picture)

So we fika-ed (possibly not how you're supposed to verb it), and I had a divine semla, a sandwich and a salad. Semlor are out in hordes during lent – they line the store fronts of cafes, restaurants, and supermarkets, and they often look better than they taste. Anyways we sat and chatted, and my mom suppressed her nervous fearoverherdaughtermovingtotheborderofnorthkorea long enough to tell me that she was excited for me to learn more about myself and what I'm capable of. When you're surrounded by people who are taking care of you, you can forget what you're capable of accomplishing on your own.

All of which ties back into my original point: when I arrived here, I landed into the comfy situation of having a co-teacher who took charge and helped me immensely. Now I'm on more equal footing with a fellow rookie (besides the fact that she has an actual education degree:P).  It's a positive thing to be pushed.

So: my new co-worker SH.  She is petite (5'4?), slim like a fairy, and has the adorable Asian cute thing going. She looks down and covers her mouth when she smiles or laughs. She has limited, but decent, English, which makes for quite a few misunderstandings and funny phrases.  She had been working as a substitute in her hometown for 15 days before she took this job. Her hometown is a couple of hours away and contains her family, friends, and boyfriend (who was not thrilled that she left), and she is planning on visiting every weekend.

As we spoke throughout the week, I discovered that she had met her boyfriend at her last school. Which means she has only known him about a month or so, but she seems quite infatuated.  Well, I suppose that's not odd for the one month phase, but I had thought that relationships moved more slowly here. Also, she's extremely soft spoken and shy.

"Wow, that's fast." I said when she told me about their romance.
She laughed shyly. "Yes, it is. But he said he likes me very much."

Later, I teasingly asked her if he was cute. Pretty safe question, because most people don't date people they don't find attractive, and cute is quite a fluid term.

"No," she replied, smiling. Weird. Maybe she didn't understand what I was asking, or took "cute" to be a literal baby look.

"Ah.  OK. But is he handsome?"

"No. But he loves me very much."

"No he doesn't!  He only worked with you a week," I laughed to make this less blunt as per my excellent social skills.

I think she averted her eyes and giggled at this, and I'm not always sure what she means by that reaction. Is it reflex? Non-confrontational? Not sure what I said?  In any case I really enjoy working with her, though I do find the relationship to be a bit strange.  If someone I didn't find attractive started immediately hitting on me and telling me he "really liked me", I would find his motives suspect. (I would even if he was attractive, but I thought that was an odd piece of her puzzle.)

Happy weekend:) I have met about twenty people every weekend I've been here. Hopefully I'll start narrowing it down soon.

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Days 14-21 -- Snippets of life

My  current goal, now that I'm living on my own, is to avoid getting scurvy  from lack of fruits and vegetables in my diet. I am quite susceptible  to these sort of illnesses, if playing Oregon Trail  as a child taught me anything. (Cholera and river crossing are  also up there on my nemesis list. They destroyed many a wagon party, though the thrill of writing epitaphs did offset the death thing. Much like real life.) 

In accordance with my don'tgetscurvy goal, I bought a sheaf of bananas this weekend.  Bundle. Bunch. Right.  I bought them even though I don't like bananas because they  taste like baby food and turn to instant mush in your mouth. No resistance. I like a bit of attitude from my meals. Also, my brother used them as torture tools when we were younger. To sum up: I don't like bananas.   Did that stop me from buying eight of them when I saw they were on sale  at SmMart? (Actual name of store.)  Nope.  So this week has been a frantic montage of me trying bananas with various side dishes to avoid ending up with  eight black bananas. (Which wouldn't be so bad if my toaster oven decided both the top and bottom of things and I could make banana  bread). I can now commiserate with my ex-roommate who was always talking about how accomplished she felt when she finished off her  groceries. They can hang in your consciousness like a to-do list...

Korean food from my first outing in Seoul. They're big on side dishes.

My classroom

And now, a glimpse into the life of my classroom.  I hope to write on each topic in more detail in separate posts, so think of this as an appetizer.

I teach four grades (3rd to 6th) which approximately comes to 300  students per week. (30 students per class, two classes in 3rd and 4th, three classes in 5th and 6th).  Our classroom is pretty cute – decorated with English phrases and matching photos (I’ll post pictures soon), and there are six tables with six chairs.  Each table is a Team, and each place at the table is one of six countries – America, Japan, China, Korea, England, Canada.  The country places are the same at each table (ie. the first two chairs across from each other are U.S. and Korea, and so on), so that if I want to call a student, I can say “Team 6, Canada” based on where they’re sitting.

 

Initially I was a little hesitant to embrace the seating system, as I had lofty goals of learning every single student’s name. Yes. I don’t really know what I was thinking (except I do, because part of me still has that goal.)  It's really hard to remember names when a) you can't pronounce them, b) you can't read them properly c) every student has three.  They have two short first names and a last name which you say first.  When I first heard the name of Kim Jong-Il's son, (Kim Jong-Un), I thought it was funny that they were trading one dictator for another with the same name. But really, only the last name is the same, and it's not weird that the first names are similar. In the western world, we name kids exactly after their fathers (Ralph Smith Jr. etc.)

Right.

After three weeks in the classroom, I know exactly one and a half students’ names.  The half is a girl whose name I know, but I’m uncertain as to precisely which girl she is. The other name I actually know is the name of a trouble maker in 3^rd grade who had a 15 minute standoff with Young Rak during our first lesson (which ended in Young Rak having to physically move him back to his desk).  And the only reason I actually remember his name is because it’s very similar to the name of a Korean girl from my high school.

We seat the children according to skill levels, mixing the advanced students with the lower ones.  It cracked me up when Young Rak informed me that America and Korea were the smart students at every table. Well, why not? :)  The levels are quite varied which is daunting.  When I went around the classroom during reading and writing activities, I discovered that some students don’t have a grasp on basic phonics (what sound does “s” make? etc.) A few of my sixth graders couldn’t write the alphabet on the initial assessment test.  These are the kids I want to sit with privately and help for a few hours, but that’s not possible.

And then there are the kids who finish their tasks within a couple of minutes. Unfortunately, these advanced ones aren’t always the quiet ones, so it can get disruptive. Still, these are the kids I want to work with privately to see how far they can get.  Basically I have a lot of private tutoring urges.  Sigh.  

Also, as a teacher, it’s interesting to be able to appreciate the various personalities of my kids. I adore my shy, introverted, sweethearts because they are lovely respites to my wild kids.  But then, I love my outgoing kids too.  They keep the class on its toes, and add a bit of life to what could be a boring subject. I’m not here to lecture – I’m here to interact.

The reality of my job

I have to remind myself that learning a language isn’t exciting for most kids. Appreciation of the importance of culture and language often seems to be much more developed with maturity. I myself regret not taking advantage of my childhood countries to study Arabic in an immersed surrounding. Plus, in high school I (and many people) put in the least amount of effort that was required to get me a good grade.  This works with many subjects, but isn’t a great language learning approach – it’s one thing to have a list of grammar rules or vocab memorized; it’s another to dedicate yourself to practicing and reading and understanding the language.  My kids don’t dedicate themselves to English: because they’re kids. The practical applications of English aren’t immediate to them in their environment.  How many people do you know who can barely speak a few phrases of the language they spent years studying in high school?

Though many of my kids don’t know basic grammar and phonics, they have still managed to learn the important stuff.  Ie. : “Do you have a boyfriend?”  When I said yes, they giggled manically – naturally – and stumbled over themselves trying to ask me more questions. “Korea?” No.  He’s not here. Or Korean. Whatever you’re asking. 

And the climax – one girl pointed at me: “You!?” She stopped, accosted by the language barrier. Finally she mimed a veil and started singing what sounded like a wedding march.

“No. I’m not married.”  They laughed hysterically again.  Naturally.

When my new co-teacher arrived – and she is simply adorable, more on that later – she let the kids have a Q&A with her.  It was all in Korean, but judging from the English words she wrote on the board as she was answering the questions, these are her stats:

1)      She is above 20, under 100. (Actually she’s 22 American age, 24 Korean age, but I liked her answer).

2)     Favorite color: White. (I have a slight beef with that, but I’m dealing :) )

3)     Blood Type: A. (Yes, they asked her this in every class. I guess that’s just information people know about themselves here. I don’t know mine, but I definitely should.)

4)     Favorite animal: Snake. (Well she just had “snake” written, with Korean next to it, so it could be one of her fears. hmmm.)

5)     Height: Above 120, below 200. (I had to ask her about these numbers later as I had no idea what the >120, <200 could be referring to. Oh, I now know my height in cm: 172)

6)      IQ: 13_ (Is this another commonly known fact here?)

And of course they asked if she had a bf or was married.  She told them no, when in fact she actually does have a boyfriend.

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“Because then they would laugh.”

Ahh. Right. Well played.

Playing games

I’ve really enjoyed myself thus far in the classroom. The kids – though they aren’t crazy about English – love to play games and are willing to engage in the lessons.  Every now and then I cringe over small mistakes that SH, my new co-worker, makes. For example, we played a categorized memory game in which the kids pass the ball to each other and whoever catches the ball says “I like _____ “  The next person has to say “I like _____ (what the last kid said) and _______”

For example:

Kid 1: “I like Britney Spears.”

Kid 2: “I like Britney Spears and Michael Jackson.”

Kid 3: “I like Britney Spears, Michael Jackson, and Abba.”

Etc. (Except when we did the category of singers they did a bunch of Kpop bands).

The first round of the game, we used the category of fruit.  SH taught it to them with the fruits in singular form.  She gave them the example of “I like apple. I like banana. I like orange,” and wrote a bunch of singular fruits on the board. It was painful to listen to everyone say the sentences, but it was SH’s first day of teaching and she had planned everything. I didn’t want to interrupt and correct her in front of the kids, and I justified it to myself with these thoughts “Well at least they're getting some of the vocabulary” and “They could be talking about flavors of ice cream. I like peach, I like grape, etc.”

And, unfortunately, when I finally tried to correct SH later, she didn’t understand what I was saying (but she sounded like she did) so the next classes said the exact same sentences. 

All in all, though, it's been a grand old time.  I make a lot of corny jokes that nobody understands, and a few that they do.

Me: "Repeat: 'I'm from Korea.' "

Kids: "I'm from Korea."

Me: "I'm from Japan."

Kids: "I'm from Japan."

Me: "I'm from America."

Kids: "I'm from America."

Me: "No you're not! I'm from America! Not you! Hahahahaha."

Kids: (Look at each other confused. Some try to repeat after me. Some laugh.)

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Day 13 – White Day

Wednesday was White Day, a holiday name which probably wouldn't fly in the States, but is alive and kicking in Korea.  White day is a day to celebrate love. According to Young Rak, it's called White Day because the candies you traditionally give are white. Wikipedia (sort of) backs him up on this – apparently White Day was originally marketed around marshmellow giving (I can't make this stuff up).

Basically White Day is celebrated because Valentine's Day in Korea is not a day of mutual giving – it's a celebration in which women give (traditionally) chocolate to men.  Therefore, a month later (March 14) it is time for the women to receive (traditionally) candy in return. Naturally the gift giving has escalated and many couples give more expensive gifts to each other (a la Valentine's Day in the States).

Here's the kicker: April 14, a month after White Day, is Black Day wherein all the people who were excluded from V-Day and White Day get to have their day. Yes, Black Day is a celebration for single people in which they get together, wear dark clothing, and eat noodles with black bean sauce.

So, essentially, what takes one day in America – man gives gifts, woman gives gifts, single people have their own S.A.D. parties – takes three months in Korea.  Well why not? Teachers score in any case – I received various candies from my students even though I'd only been working a week.

Gentlemen: the best way to navigate dating in Korea is to break up a couple of weeks after Valentine's Day, avoid White Day, and join your fellow singletons on Black Day.

Ladies: your best path would be to get together after Valentine's Day, receive your White Day gifts, and break up in time for Black Day.

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Day 12 – Surprise, you're getting a new co-teacher!

Yes. I’m getting a new co-teacher.  I feel like Littlefoot losing his mother in The Land Before Time. How will I survive without the patience, good humor, and dedication of Young Rak?  He has been an amazing help in navigating my first week here – driving me to the bank, hospital, phone place, etc., and translating everything for me. Not to mention coming up with amazing lesson plans (but not forgetting to ask for input) and disciplining the classroom in a stern but humorous way.
My new co-teacher is fresh on the field – 22 (American age) – and new to the school.  Basically one new student joined the fifth grade and he/she pushed it over the student class size allowance, so another fifth grade class is being created, and Young Rak is being assigned as their class teacher (“homeroom teacher”) and the school is hiring someone new to teach with me. Which will probably be fine if she’s flexible and decent at English.  Still, I’m sad.  The news came like this:

Young Rak: “I should be a homeroom teacher.”

Me (rolling eyes): No. You’re fine here. (He had warned me a couple days ago that the switch might happen, but that they might keep him in English and hire someone new for the homeroom).

Later: Young Rak: The new English teacher is Singhee.

Me: What?! They told you?

Young Rak: Yes. I said to you I should be a homeroom teacher.

Me: (Thinking about how to explain that saying “I should be a homeroom teacher” is different than
“I will be a homeroom teacher,” and deciding it’s not worth trying.) OK.

She starts Monday. I asked what she’s been doing – sitting around hoping for a job? (I’m not sure what the supply/demand for general teachers is like here). He didn’t know, but she might have been subbing.

This will be like getting a new roommate, but a little bit worse because you can leave/ignore a bad roommate, but you can’t do much about a workmate. I’m optimistic, but it’s a bummer that we’ll both be new to the school.

**

 A few items from one of my first shopping trips. Spaghetti was about $1.50, everything else was under $10 I believe.

You can tell a lot about a nation by its grocery stores. Or rather, you can tell a lot about the eating habits of a nation by its grocery stores. (Yes, I’m profound like that.) So…Korean grocery stores.  My local, decent sized SM mart (not one of the really big chains here), has Tropicana orange juice, but no butter. Or no butter the few times I’ve been – it might have been out of stock. It has a very limited bread section, and no brown/wheat loaves of bread. But it does have imported sweet Gerkins (you bet I bought some), a ton of spam, and an aisle devoted to Ramen type creations.

Foodwise, Korea also appears to be obsessed with bakeries – specifically Paris Baguette and Tous Les Jours – and donut type shops (Dunkin' Donuts), as well as cafes/coffee shops (though those are on every corner in the States as well.)

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Day 11- Of footwear and toothpaste

I have learned quite a few life/living in Korea lessons in the past week and a half, and I thought I’d share some here.

Incidents I have learned from in the past week

1) The School Shoes Incident.

My first mistake in this incident was not taking seriously my friend Gail’s post about the sandals worn at Korean schools.  I read it, found it amusing, but shrugged off the idea that the teachers at my school would all be wearing sandals inside. Indoor shoes, maybe.  But a specific type of black sandal?

I was wrong. I’m not sure what it’s like at Hogwans (private learning centers – yes, close in spelling to Hogwarts), but at public schools, the indoor sandal seems to be the norm. Since I had ignored Gail’s blog, I brought my own pair of simple black flats on the first day. Young Rak did not hesitate to inform me that everyone else was wearing sandals “Like this,” he lifted his foot, but that – naturally – it was my choice.

The Offenders

A few days later I was shopping at E-mart (supposedly the Korean version of Walmart), and I saw the sandals hanging everywhere.  As they were inexpensive (under $10), I decided that conforming wouldn’t be so terrible. I bought a yellow pair – fun! – with lots of raised bumps that appeared to be foot support.  I was pretty excited about the yellow – it’s my favorite color, but it washes me out so I can’t wear it near my face. Shoes=perfect solution.

Long story short(er), I arrived at school the next day, toting my new yellow sandals. Young Rak laughed when he saw them, and I thought maybe he thought the color was outlandish. Nope.

“Those are shoes old people wear,” he said.

“No! They’re like yours.”

“See those,” he gestured to the bumps,”Those are like…for old people. They are special. Like medicine. Do you know acupuncture?”

“Yes.”

“Like that. They press different parts of the feet.”

“Oh.” I brightened. “Cool! I have healthy shoes.”

He laughed again. “I think they’re bathroom shoes.”

“I don’t care,” I announced. I put them on. Five minutes later, I hobbled back to the closet and switched into my old black flats. They were extremely painful and not at all the pressurepointmedicinalwonders I had been led to believe. I brought them home to use in my bathroom. (More about that later.)

Speaking of shoes, I would bet a tidy sum of money that the first Cultural Crime that all ESL teachers in Korea commit takes place at the threshold of their apartment. After an exhausting, long amount of travel from their home country, they are led to their room, lugging their suitcases. The minute they step away from the entrance into their room, they are met with the shocked gasp of their co-worker/whoever picked them up.

Another name for Korea could be The Land Where Shoes Are Never Ever Worn Inside Unless They Are Specially Designated Indoor Shoes. The shocked co-worker moment happened for me – Young Rak was actually pretty chill about it though. “I don’t think you can do that in Korea,” he said. I’ve recently realized that he tempers a lot of his orders with “I don’t think,” and “Maybe.”  eg. “Maybe it’s not good for you to play that game with the students.”

2) The Arm and Hammer toothpaste incident.

Here’s a bit of advice for life in general. Don’t ever buy toothpaste in bulk if you haven’t tasted it before. (*Also not recommended for corn dogs.) While I was still in my Treat7-11asmypersonalgrocerystore stage, I found a four pack of Arm and Hammer toothpaste. I bought it.  My reasoning went something like this: “Ooh American words. Ooh American brand that I recognize.” Yes, I recognized Arm and Hammer. I recognized it because it is a BAKING SODA brand that makes baking soda.

Basically the toothpaste tastes like baking soda. And that grosses me out. And being grossed out by toothpaste should be at the top of a list of bad things. (and 1st world problems?) But there’s nothing I can do because I’m too cheap to go buy more toothpaste when I have four tubes at home.

Speaking of toothpaste, the kids and teachers at my school bring their toothbrushes and paste, and brush in the bathrooms after lunch. Wow. Hygiene win.

Unfortunately, in the same bathrooms, mounds of used toilet paper sit in the trash bins because the Korean plumbing system is apparently too delicate to take in toilet paper. Hygiene fail. (“Hygiene fail” as defined by anything that sounds grody to me.)

**

Well that was only two lessons, but I’ll stop for now. To be continued.

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Day 9 – Everyone's drunk

One of the first things I read when researching Korean cultural norms, was that you never blow your nose at the table. Not too weird, right? Blowing your nose at during a meal in the States would also be considered rude, though I doubt it’s on a list of things you can/can’t do there. I wondered why I read this rule so often, as it seemed to be common sense – excuse yourself for a moment, and then come back.

Sniffles

Now I know why I was warned. When you are a) sick with a cold, b) cold (for example the unheated cafeteria), c) eating spicy soups and sauces, and d) sitting cross-legged on a floor squeezed between new acquaintances on a social occasion, it is very hard not to fantasize about pulling out some Kleenex and taking care of things. In the social eating situations I’ve been, it’s been impractical to actually leave the eating area to blow my nose – how can I walk across the entire cafeteria to get outside every few minutes, or weasel my way out from between my seatmates and leave the eating room?  Instead I had to sit there and turn around and dab with a tissue every ten minutes. I’ll be glad when I’m healthy again.

Speaking of health, Koreans appear to have combined two polarized approaches: Determinedly going into work no matter how awful you feel, and at the same time, using hospitals for the smallest of ailments. So, stoic hypochondriacs?

**

Tonight I got to see everyone at my school get drunk. Well, not really.  Only a few of them overdid it. I don’t know why anyone ever thought it would be a good idea to mix co-workers and alcohol (see: Christmas office parties in the States). It’s like dating a co-worker – you really don’t want all the weird details when you’re supposed to relate to someone professionally. Different masks for different places. That’s why you don’t wear PJs to work.

Soju

I had my first taste of soju, Korea’s version of vodka (Sweden’s version was Absolut:P), and a glass of beer. The soju was decent if you like that type of thing (which I generally don’t), and the beer tasted like beer. (My senses aren’t too refined.)
I found out yesterday that we would be having a school staff work party tonight. Apparently it is paid for by a special fund that teachers contribute to (except me: foreigner bonus:))
The night went something like this:

1) At the last minute Young Rak discovered he needed to pick up his son from preschool and wouldn’t be able to join until later. This was daunting because he’s the only person I’ve properly talked to at the school, and I have no idea about the English abilities of everyone else (except that the principal speaks none.)

2) I receive a ride from “Sofia,” the English name of one of the third grade teachers. She is middle aged, loud, and friendly, with decent English. I try to get everyone’s name in Korean, but the reality is that I remember their English names much better. (Which is the point I suppose.) Sofia tells me about her stay in Riverside, tells me I looked sad when she first saw me (I’ve been sick and jet lagged, but I also tend to make bad first impressions when I’m out of my comfort zone) asks how old my mom is, and informs me that people have told her she isn’t married because she is too “jdkghjkfd.” (English word). She repeats “jdkghjkfd” over and over until she realizes I have no idea, and then she says “Stricteh.” Strict. Koreans like to add an “eh” to the end of their words, and they carry this over into their English.

3) Upon arrival, I remove my shoes at the doorway of one of the back rooms in the restaurant that our school has reserved. I’m thankful to be wearing the black converses that are half a size small for me so that my mammoth foreign feet don’t stand out. (Actually I don’t care that much, but I’m painting a picture for you. See?). The room has four low, long, flat tables covered in side dishes which surround a large circular opening which will be filled with coals on which the barbeque will cook.

4) I am separated from Sofia and led to a seat at theonlytablewithoutanysortofenglishspeaker. I don’t discover this until later when I meet all the teachers in the school who can speak English.

5) The evening progresses. When Young Rak finally arrives, they call him over to sit by me, and I say “No, it’s OK, it’s OK” because I feel bad that the guy next to me has to move all his dishes/drinks. Foolish girl that I am. I just said it to be polite – I definitely wanted Young Rak next to me, as he is a real trooper about translating for me and helping me in general.

6) Suddenly a bunch of people are moving around. Young Rak pops over next to me. “It’s a rule,” he explains. Or role, I’m not sure. “We all move to another table to see new people.” Basically the dinner turns into a mingling event, except the food isn’t finished, so you take your chopsticks with you and eat from the bowls/grill of the other tables. Very cool. (Unless you end up in my old place and are eating after someone who isn’t too adept at chopsticks). Also, apparently it’s awkward to just go next to someone and start talking, so you have to go next to them and offer to pour them a drink. Even if they’re in the middle of a conversation, you just butt in with your drink offer. Much less awkward. (!)

7) I meet several other teachers who have good English and are extremely friendly. We have some good conversations, and I’m really enjoying the whole mingling thing. Also, all of the food is delectable. Just fabulous. I encounter many of the cliches I’ve read about – people being excited that I use chopsticks and eat kimchi, a teacher telling me that the kids like pretty teachers with long hair, etc.

8) At one point, the head fourth grade teacher, who I will be working with once a week, gets someone to pour himself another shot of soju (you don’t pour drinks for yourself in Korea if you value your ability to spawn). He has already made several drink-induced, impromptu, loud speeches to the whole room, and something about his mannerisms/appearance reminds me of Dwight from The Office. (Not in a horrible way, just quite amusing.) Anyways, he chugged a shot down, and I said, “Opa!” which is what the Greeks say for “cheers.” I got quite a few surprised laughs over this, and I wondered if they had also seen “My Big Fat Greek Wedding.” Nope. As it turns out, “Opa” sounds like the word for “Honey/Sweetie” in Korean. Young Rak explained this to me later. “That’s why he liked it. Just don’t say it to me!” (Young Rak is married, but this was mostly a joke.)

9) When I was leaving, we stopped by the table of older teachers to say goodbye. One of them, a middle-aged woman, excitedly rattled something off in Korean. Young Rak explained that she lived near me. She made some gestures that appeared to mean that she would be giving me a ride home sometime. And then she kissed my hand as we left. I thought the hand kiss was a Korean sign of affection/acceptance. Nope, just drunk and friendly.

And that’s about it for day nine. On the bus ride home, my card was out of credit (which is weird because it’s been pretty full) and I had no change and the driver was getting agitated. In steps a lovely Korean girl with dyed red hair (the red suits Koreans, I think), and she explains everything that’s happening to me. When she discovers I don’t have change, she pays the fare for me on her card. I am deeply appreciative of these bits of kindness which I have been receiving here.

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Day 8 - Squatty potties and cold hallways

Eight days. Wow – Korea is a confusing time warp. (Yes, I suppose most time warps are confusing.)  In some ways I feel like I've been here forever; Sweden feels a lifetime away. But at the same time, it's hard to believe I've been here over a week.

Today was freezing – OK, technically it was a few degrees above freezing – and every time I stepped out of our (thankfully) heated classroom, I bolted to my destination. The hallways aren't heated, and generally feel colder than it does outdoors, probably because they're built to keep cool during stifling summers.  I'm not too bothered by the frigid hallways because I had been under the impression that the classrooms wouldn't have heat either. The joy of low expectations.

On Monday, my first full day, I discovered the women's bathroom. Well, and why wouldn't it be filled with squatty potties? Yes, squatty potties – a hole in the ground with a sloping ceramic entrance. As a hiker/former Middle East expat brat, I've used my fair share of these, but never on a daily basis. Never in work clothes. Gentlemen, you are blessed to have aim. And standupability. Imagine, for a second, squatting down, pants around knees, squinting at the 2 inch door crack to see if students are peeking in, pulling your trousers and longjohns away from you, and trying to angle your face to get a good view of the stream in case it veers sideways.

You're welcome.

I took this in Seoul, and then I bought the same clear umbrella:)

**

When I first arrived, Young Rak absent mindedly mentioned something about figuring out how to get me a special trash bag. I chalked this up to some sort of language misunderstanding.  Wrong. The Korea trash system requires special bags that are bought from specific locations. I'll post in detail on that later. Suffice it to say that I've still not purchased these bags and now have a week's worth of trash in my apartment. This wouldn't be so bad if it didn't include all my "move in" trash (from all my new stuff, including a giant box full of styrofoam), and my "sick" trash (blowing my nose all week).

And now, a song that's been stuck in my head all week, because we've taught it (with actions!) to at least 10 classes:

I laughed quite a bit the first time I heard it, because it's central expression "I'm a can do kid," is not very commonly used anymore. I have visions of my 4th graders visiting the States for the first time and describing themselves as "can do kids" to strangers.

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Day 5 - The Fried Chicken Fiasco

Today I made the mistake of alienating the neighborhood fried chicken joint. And it’s not just in the neighborhood, it is literally next door to my apartment. Side Note: On my second day, I announced to my boyfriend that I would be losing weight because everything was so much healthier here.  He laughed and said that wasn’t going to happen as long as I lived across from Dunkin’ Donuts. His comment was strangely prescient, considering he didn’t know that I was next door to a fried chicken joint. And a few doors down from “Lotteria” – Korea’s version of McDonalds.

This is not the actual chicken I ended up eating. This is a picture of chicken I stole from the Food Network blog

And, back to the chicken story.  Not much of a story except that I saw fried chicken in the window (they have a pile of it), I craved it (Bathsheba?), and noticed that there were young Koreans in charge of the place. Young people! Finally I would communicate with one of theoneswhosupposedlyspeakEnglishbecausethey’vebeenlearningsinceamuchyoungeragethantheoldergeneration.  Nope. Whoever tells you that is lying.  These young people couldn’t even respond to my “Do you speak English?” question, which is something that you should be able to guess at.  I know I know, it’s their country, I should learn some of their language.  But English is the lingua franca – it’s the new Latin (educated people everywhere speak it, not just Roman citizens), etc. etc. etc. OK, no really, I’m not a cultural imperialist; I’m just bummed that I alienated the neighborhood fried chicken joint.

After establishing that we had, in fact, no common language other than our youthful good looks, I began an elaborate mime of what I wanted – pointing at the pile of chicken and holding up two fingers.

“Two.” I smiled. This is how I say please because I’m scared to pronounce “Joosayak”.

“Two #$%$*&^%$ ?” One of the (young!) guys behind the counter said. No, he was not swearing. It was a complicated Korean word that I hoped meant chicken.

“Ummm.  Two pieces?” I tried.  At this point a younger girlwhocouldalsospeaknoenglish came over and helped add to the confusion.

“Two @#$#!%$%(^*$()@?” she asked.

I pointed at the chicken (about three feet away), jabbing the air twice.  Two pieces of chicken.

They conversed amongst themselves.  I decided we had communicated well.  He pulled out a few pieces of chicken to put in the deep fryer.  And a few more.  And more.  16.  There was only one other customer whose chicken was already cooking.

“Oh!  I just want two pieces!”  I tried to find a cheap price on the menu. “What is that?”  This, apparently, was not a phrase they had learned in the excessiveEnglishclassestheyhadbeentakingsincetheyweresix.  I pointed again at the photo of chicken pieces on the menu.  “Two.”

She nodded. “Two pieces.” She was typical Korean cute with her shiny dark hair (I haven’t seen anyone with thin or frizzy hair hair), and black mini skirt.  Ladies, it’s winter. I was freezing in my jeans, undershirt, shirt, sweater, and jacket. Baring your legs is ridiculous. (Yes, I’ve done the same thing – started dressing for Spring way too early thinking that it’ll spur things along.  It doesn’t.)

“Yes! Two pieces!”  I cover up all the chicken pieces in the photo except for two.  This throws her.

“#$$%(*)()# )@#$@#*     ($*%$%#(    ($#*%(#$%*”  I’m not sure why she keeps speaking Korean to me when it’s obvious I don’t know any. Probably the same reason I keep speaking English with her. We like to make our noises.

It finally becomes apparent that I don’t want two boxes of eight pieces (??!!), but simply two pieces. They show me their box sizes – they only go down to four, and I willingly accept the compromise.  They are left with 12 freshly fried pieces. I apologize several times (does it count if they don’t understand?)  Happily, two new customers walk in and a few of the pieces are sold as I am paying. (The dude behind the counter is a bit passive-aggressive and serves them/accepts their money first.)

Yes. So now I’m not sure how welcome I am at my neighborhood fried chicken joint. The problem with being the only white person in my neighborhood is that when I make mistakes, I will be recognized.

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Day 3 – Impromtu speeches and mistaken gods

“So, have you thought of what you’re going to say at the assembly today?”

Young Rak asked me as we drove to school this morning.  He is to be my co-worker, and has been absolutely delightful so far; explaining things, driving me around, and introducing me to people. Also, I have him saved as Young Rock in my phone which amuses me.

“I’m speaking?”

“You know, you’ll introduce yourself.  You will have to say hello, and why you’re happy to be here,” he glanced at me. “Don’t worry! Just be natural.  Only one time is in front of people.  The other time is broadcast, so you don’t have to worry about being in front.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a video that is sent to all the T.V.s in the classrooms.  You can say hello to the children.  Be natural.  Just be natural.”

Korean rice cake with beans. First few bites excellent. After that, the consistency/moldy appearance becomes off-putting.

**

As it turns out, I wasn’t required to speak, but I did stand up with the other newcomers a couple of times as someone else said something that faintly sounded like my name. I have learned that, unfortunately, Siobhan (when pronounced correctly) sounds like a swearword in Korean. So Young Rak has decided that the teachers and students will be calling me by my last name which happens to be very difficult for Koreans to pronounce. They somehow stretch it to four syllables (it's only two). My last name has always been my saving grace as far as being the simpler of my names. I’ve heard the relief in telephone operators’ voices after I spell my first name and then tell them my second. Still, I never planned for it to become my first name. I pointed out that when used as a first name it’s for a boy, and Young Rak seemed to find this information really amusing.

My learning about my supposed speeches (and, indeed, their lack of materialization) is indicative of much of what I’ve read/heard about the Korean school system.  You have to be flexible.  Things change all the time and you have to flow with it, otherwise you’ll  be driven crazy.  Case in point: I discovered that not only did Young Rak not want to be an English co-teacher (his speciality is elsewhere and he wanted to work in that area because it’s important to get hours or something), but he was only told of his new position two weeks ago.  Two.  So the cultural lesson difference here:

In America, your boss/superintendent can’t force you to take a job you don’t want at the very last minute. Sure bosses can take advantage of you, and you might feel obligated to perform duties you would rather not (because you have flimsy boundaries and can’t manage your nos)(judgment!)(only because I’m much worse).  But you will never be told you have an entirely different job two weeks before starting. That’s simply not enough time for physical and mental preparation.  Granted, I’m only getting his side of the story, and maybe the job was up in the air and he knew it might land on him…Still.

In Korea…the opposite happens.

**

I challenge anyone to a game of charades when I’m done with this adventure.  I’ve mastered how to tell someone that I want to eat in the restaurant, go upstairs, find something, eat something, etc. without any words.

I’m also slowly gaining a sense of the bus system here. I’ll go into detail later, but for now it’s good to know that the 090 bus is NOT the same as the 90 bus, and therefore does NOT go to my bus stop but to a bunch of random locations that look similar enough to appease my confused little gray cells.

To finish, I leave you with this story: Today was class preparation/orientation (for me) day. Young Rak had me scan a powerpoint he had created for English mistakes.  It was a powerpoint made up of photocopies of Japanese children’s book that had been translated in Korean that he had now translated into English. Yes. Anyways, the book was about how there is no wrong question and students shouldn’t feel ashamed when they make mistakes because it allows them to improve.  One of the slides, to illustrate this point, had a picture of “God” (you know, old dude, long white hair, flowing robe), and some kids. The English description read: “God can make a mistake, so can you.”  I was stymied.  I was stymied because In America, we generally refer to one God, and He doesn’t make mistakes.

However, Young Rak explained to me, that since it was originally a Japanese book, they were referring to one of many gods (as Young Rak said, “that’s not, like, Jesus,”) who apparently can make mistakes, and if a god can make a mistake, it’s OK if you do too. So, naturally, I corrected his words to “A god can make a mistake, so can you,” which is still really weird sounding to me, but it’s the gist. We’re trying to keep the word count down and the vocab simple.

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Day 1

It took me hundreds of dollars and 14 hours to leave Sweden, only to arrive in South Korea to the distinctive sound of Abba on the radio. Abba. The Swedish pop band whose manager lived in my Stockholm neighborhood. The radio playing Abba was inside the 7-11 across from my new apartment in Paju. The 7-11 next to the Dunkin' Donuts, around the corner from Baskin Robbins.

Abba+7-11+Dunkin' Donuts+Baskin Robbins ≠ rural Korean experience I had expected. Granted, I didn't have too many expectations. But Paju is often described as "rural" which conjures up fields and cows in my mind (and the Demilitarized Zone which I have yet to lay eyes on). My apartment, however, is surrounded by shops, buildings, and restaurants. It's a two minute walk to access multiple buses (several of which are direct to Seoul).  Not so rural. But I'm fine with that, particularly because I'm currently sans car.

**

My recruiter (Adventure Teaching) had this welcome box waiting in the apartment for me!

I walked out of the baggage claim area, pushing my bountiful luggage – two large suitcases (50lbs each), one small roller, a massive backpack, and a giant plastic bag – and scanning the crowd for my arranged driver.  And then I spotted him, a middle aged Korean man with a long friendly face, grinning and holding a sign that had my name in large black letters. Spelled correctly, which was a pleasant upgrade to my Cairo experience. (Yes, my name is difficult to spell. But how hard is it to transfer it from a computer to paper?)

He commandeered my bigger suitcases and led me to a spacious, comfortable van. There were no seatbelts in the back, which I discovered after several minutes of blindly groping the vinyl.

"Your name difficult," he said, 10 minutes into the ride, long after we had discovered that we shared no common language.

"Yeah," I said and laughed.

"Beautiful," he repeated, and I realized he hadn't said "your name difficult," but "You're very beautiful."

Seeing as I had already laughed and agreed, I decided not to correct him. 30 minutes later, he pulled out his phone and spoke Korean into it.  It translated his words into English, first on the screen, and then out loud in the female google robot voice. (How much did that woman get paid?) Through this method he asked me where I was from.

"Nationality," the robot voice said.

"Rae-chonalty," he repeated. "Rae-chonalty, Rae-chonalty, Rae-chonalty." I gently corrected his pronunciation a few times and then gave up.  It was probably not a good idea to encourage him to stare at and speak to his phone while he was driving. He didn't seem worried about this, but then he was the one with the seatbelt.

I watched as he spoke Korean into his phone and it generated remarkably accurate translations: "Have you ever been to Korea before?" "First time?" 

And then, of course:

"You look wonderful." He silently read it, waiting for the robot voice. It came: "You look wonderful," said the stilted, oddly stressed female tone.  He spoke the words to me with difficulty, laughing.

It is a nice thing when someone tells you that you look wonderful. However, I wasn't terribly receptive to the compliment, seeing as I had just traveled for 14+ hours and had a makeupless, disheveled (but not in a saucy way) appearance, wearing my shapeless comfy traveling clothes.

"You English peecher?"

"Yes, I'm an English teacher."

He smiled and said something into his phone: "Kids be happy."  The first ify translation.

I laughed.

"Kids be happy," he repeated. "Why? Beautiful!"

I thanked him and we continued in silence. It occurred to me that he knew exactly where I lived, but I brushed this thought aside. He was much more curious than creepy.

**

My apartment is lovely.  It's big and furnished (including an extremely old fat computer), and I'm extremely happy with it. I'll add pictures to this post tomorrow.

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