Trekking along, and a note to my future self

I had a blog where I posted almost daily for a year.  I actually think the yearly posts were over 365 because I often posted several times a day. I was unemployed. Actually, that's not entirely true.  I was unemployed for a few months, and then part time employed.  I think the key to consistent writing, though, is just that: consistent writing. Today, though I have nothing exciting to say, I thought I'd post anyways, if only to try to be more consistent in my output on here.  So: My time in Korea is winding up.  I have less than three months left in the country, and only a month or so of actual classes to teach.  This year went by so crazy fast, that I cannot help but wonder if it will one day be a smudge...

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Before I die I don't want to die

We created bucket lists in my grade five classes this week.  Each student made a small paper booklet with three things he/she wanted to do before dying.  Our target vocab for the lesson was "I want to..." which fit perfectly with the project.  Their desires ranged from mundane -- Before I die I want to go shopping -- to accidentally profound -- Before I die I don't want to die. Quite a few kids wanted to be rich/win the lottery, and I also had a surprising number of wannabe zookeepers.  I want to fall in love was another popular one, complete with little pink hearts and smiling stick figures -- both boys and girls. My students' bucket lists highlights I want to taste food from every country. I want to...

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The Invisibles

I love surrealism.  This is an oil painting called "The Invisibles" by Yves Tanguy.    His subconscious saw imaginary beings and he painted them.  What would the world be like if everyone had the technical ability to paint their thoughts, imaginings, dreams?  Overwhelming, I suppose. Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue.  Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid.  ~Jules Feiffer ...

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On being grateful -- This will be cheesy

I thought I was going to die.  It was painfully hot.  My backpack -- almost as tall as me -- was digging into my shoulders.  Our water supply was low. We had miscounted our distance and missed a checkpoint.  We huddled in the shade of an indent in the mountain, and started to write our wills.  Occasionally one of us blew the whistle that was supposed to bring help. ** Throughout high school I was in a hiking program called International Award (IA) in which we learned to navigate with maps, rely on teammates, and camp out with only the items we carried on our backs. During the three+day hike, each team had a map with various checkpoints we had to hit, ending in the campsite which all the groups shared.  Each...

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Bhutan, Questions, and Bucket Lists

When I first heard of Bhutan -- a small country in the Himalayas which was a closed country until recently (and is supposedly still difficult to travel to) -- I immediately wanted to visit.  A tiny, fiercely protective kingdom nestled in a mountain range; it sounded like something out of an old story. I suppose that makes me a romantic. ** My desires often seem to revolve around unattainable or mysterious places and events.  It's funny how anticipation drives me -- the promise of beauty, of fulfillment, of pleasure -- how I am so drawn to the future, the answers, the potential of it all.  A good friend once told me he thought that the mysteries of life were purposeful, that they give us reason to move forward and explore. ...

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Silly happenings

"Teacher!" "Student!" This exchange occurs around 7-10 times daily.  Most of my kids have difficulty pronouncing my name, so they call me teacher.  I return the favor with the appropriate label.  The students who know what student means - which is sadly not the majority (yes, I occasionally question my value here) - always think it's the funniest thing ever.  Almost as funny as when I attempt an occasional Korean word. Today the exchange went beyond the name to name greeting.  (Or label to label greeting, as it were.)  One of the fifth graders who cleans my classroom every day -- the kids all have an area to daily clean -- loves trying to talk to me as long as it's outside of class (her class time is reserved...

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Patchworks and Metaphors

A former boyfriend loved metaphors.  He used them dramatically and unironically.  I loved that he loved them, that he shared my passion for words and language.  I too love metaphors - little truth nuggets.  They tend to break down, though;  metaphors and analogies.  They have a nasty habit of driving you somewhere and dropping you off to either get caught up in distracting scenery or tossing you away from points being made.  What? I had a nasty habit of tearing down his metaphors.  That's right.  Even though it was a quality of his that I admired, and even though I love that metaphors, by nature, are imperfect.  I couldn't help myself.  It's easier to tear down than build up, and it's...

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Interesting Google Search Suggestions

 You know that moment when you go to Google something and it starts suggesting random goofy things and you completely forget what it was you were trying to search for and decide to take a bunch of screen shots of different combinations of Google suggestions instead?  Yeah, that one.  Well if you want to avoid that moment, I suggest refraining from typing in questiony search terms, especially ones like "is it ok to..." Here are the results of a few different searches on Google.kr.  I'm not sure if the searches are different in other countries, but I imagine they are. Apparently there are a lot of concerned pregnant zumbaers.  ...

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Strange things happen here

My co-teacher has decided to extend her duties to include acting as my personal PR rep. - her latest mission has been cultivating an aura of mystery around me.  Allow me to explain. I'm at school for 40 hours a week, from 8:30-4:30.  I teach 23 lessons a week (40 minutes each).  This means that over half of my time is free for lesson planning and, more often, desk-warming -- a term we use for being paid to sit at our desks and - you know - look pretty. (Or dishevelled as the case may be.) 20+ hours of free time has provided me with excellent opportunities to chat with friends/family, read articles, blog, and generally allow my soul to be sucked online.  In spite of the enormous productivity of this...

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Off to Everland!

This Saturday, I went with a group of friends to Everland, South Korea's largest theme park (with a high annual attendance, ranked at 13th in the world).  It's a mix between Sea World, Knott's Scary Farm and Disneyland -- with a zoo, water park, kid's rides, animal show, and two large rollercoasters.  Oh, and three dollar churros.  Everland also has an American Adventure section, complete with a flashing disco area and walls with old US movie posters, as well as the only burger place in the park.  (Which was a cleverly disguised Lotteria.  Sneaky Korea, sneaky.) Everland (which unfortunately makes me think MJ's ranch before Peter Pan ) is a mad crazy crowdedlikeastreetinathirdworldcountry...

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Curriculum Craziness

Over the last seven months of teaching in Korea, I've had to teach some strange words and sentences to my students.  At the beginning of each lesson, we listen and repeat and memorize the vocabulary and phrases, which means that my students have committed some really odd things to heart. This includes phrases like "I'm going to go inline skating" and "What is this?" "It's a sensor." One of my favorites was the video dialogue about the "house of the future" in which the characters exclaim: "Look! The robot is cooking."  "What a surprise!"  I honestly had more of a problem with forcing my kids to memorize "What a surprise!" than "Look, the robot is cooking!"  If there was a situation in which a robot was...

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The phenomenons of living as an expat in Korea

Today I will be describing a few of the mysteries inherent in Korean expat life.  (No, I won't be discussing fan death.) The Truman Show Effect stalker shot It happens all the time -- when talking to a local shop owner, bus driver, or waiter, struggling to use my rudimentary (read: practically non-existent) language skills, the Korean I'm talking to will suddenly break into some very decent English.  Apparently they enjoy watching me flounder, but can only take so much. (In Sweden, most expats complained about the opposite problem - Swedes hearing your non-native Swedish and immediately switching to English, not allowing you to practice. Ever.)  Or, more...

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You know you're in Korea...

 A couple months ago, I was inspired to handwrite some comicy type stuff that happens in Korea.  As it turns out, this isn't my skillset.  But, I recently found them again, and thought I'd share.  Just because. ...

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Seoul Writer's Retreat

Retreats are glorious. I belong to a creative writing group in Seoul called the Seoul Writer's Workshop.  It meets every week (alternating between poetry and fiction), and has been a great way to meet other writers and give and receive critiques, and generally slow the brain atrophication process that set in after graduation. Atrophication. This weekend/week is the Korean holiday of Chuseok which is generally described as a Korean Thanksgiving - a three day holiday for families to gather and eat.  Or, for expats, a three day holiday to travel around Korea/Asia; in my case, on a writer's retreat in Jeungpyeong-gun, a couple hours southeast of Seoul. And so it was that I found myself nestled in a pension surrounded by breathable...

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Sports Day Whoo Whoo

Today is Sports Day.  This means a day filled with music, races, parents, cotton candy, balloons, and an entire-school Gangnam Style dance bonanza.  I forgot my camera. However, I do intend to get some snazzy iphone footage of the socutecanitakeyouhomeplease first and second graders running around.  Maybe get a shot of the 5th grader wearing the "ATHEISM COMMUNISM AND FREE LOVE" (Reed College motto) shirt.  That's a lot of worldview statements for a 10-year-old to be sporting.  To be fair, he wears it with a big smile and lots of energy.  In Korea, Sports Day doesn't just happen.  You spend a week practicing for it/making shirts for it/thinking about it.  On Tuesday, classes were cancelled...

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Sarcasm, Autism, and free rides

Last Thursday I finally realized that sarcasm doesn't easily cross language barriers.  Unfortunatly, I discovered this while being broadcast on classroom TVs across our entire school.  Let me explain.  Twice a week, I oh-so-slowly read a children's book on camera, and am broadcast live to all the students in their homerooms.  Three fifth graders are in the recording room with me, interacting with the story by listening and repeating and answering questions like "How many fish do you see?" I am currently reading "Brown Bear" to the students, which is a simple book aimed for native speaking four-year-olds.  It goes like this: "Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see?  I see a red bird looking at me.  Red bird, red bird, what do you see? ..."...

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