Hello. Hi. Yes, I'm a foreigner. You're in Seoul.
Yep. Still back here. Still a foreigner.
Hello, again. I know. My face is so fascinating.
Okay. Are you actually from the smallest town in the world? How did you even end up on a bus in Seoul? Do you know where you are?
Yes. I'm still here.
Oh, the joys of weekday early afternoon cavorting. You never know what you're going to come across. Other than a pack of school girls in Hongdae who really need to learn how to walk in some semblance of a straight line. That one is a given. Also, they should be ashamed of the way they were speaking to their mothers on the phone. I woulda got popped in the mouth back in my day. Through the phone. Which I didn't have.
I opted out of the teachers' trip and don't even really feel any regret. Mostly because my apartment is a shambles and I've still yet to sort out exactly what the fuck is happening tomorrow night. But I think I've decided on what I'm going to wear! That's the important thing. Right?
Almost ready to say goodbye to 2010. New Year's Eves in Korea usually have a way of starting out incredibly asinine and mundane and then ending up completely epic. Here's hoping, on that one. And the good kind of epic, not the bad kind. Please.
12.30.2010
A good old-fashioned INP rant.
Sigh. I think I've been spoiled by hanging out almost exclusively with females lately. I love the boys, but I have something to say....
Western men: If you do not have even one single close male Korean friend, please abstain from telling me about how Korean men are, because you heard it from your friend's Korean girlfriend who -- let's face it -- is not exactly the most "normal" example of a Korean woman to begin with. And when I point out that I have had hugely, epically, monstorously larger interactions with Korean men of all types than you have (giving a taxi driver directions? ordering a drink at the bar?), don't then proceed to argue with me and inform me that I can't really know because I don't understand the culture.
I'm sorry your Korean girlfriend has had a habit of dating shitty, abusive, disgusting men. But sitting around and listening to her bitch about her ex boyfriends does not mean that you have reached a higher level of cultural understanding in Korea than I have by interacting with actual Korean men of all types, positions and ages on a daily basis, in all kinds of scenarios, including in my work and social life.
Furthermore, expats of Korea: If you generally have the view that all Koreans are ___________ (insert negative trait here), then what you need to do is take a good look at the people you are interacting with. Why are you hanging around shitty people? Who's fault is that? Get your fucking life together and take some responsibility for yourself. To conjure up the idea that an entire country crammed full of people has nothing decent to offer you in the way of friendship or interaction, rather than taking a look at the social situations you are engaging in, is just really fucking lazy. And childish.
I really, really don't care for some of the shit the group Smalltown's been hanging around with come out with sometimes, and how he can start to be a little swayed by them when he spends too much time around them. Those guys have complained from the beginning that I won't really give anyone out there a chance, other than Smalltown -- none of the others even so much as have my phone number, and I will not meet them alone without Smalltown, although I'm always polite when I see them out. But this is why. As nice as they can be to me, they still have some fucked up ways of dealing with the country that they are living in, and I don't have time for that shit. I don't have the patience or the motivation to deal with their territorial bullshit attitudes toward Korean men, while they have no problems whatsoever dating, sleeping with and marrying the women. Or their inability to realize that the girls they are dating, sleeping with and marrying have strings of long histories of abusive relationships do not have those histories because they had the misfortune of being born Korean. Let me give you some phone numbers. Let me tell you some stories. Let me open your eyes to how un-Korean it all is. Back home, you were just content to ignore it, because it was a women's issue. Nice to see you've suddenly had a completely mystifying change of heart, though.
ALSO. You are like forty billion years old. And so is your girlfriend. I'm twenty-five. Please don't get mentally confused about how your interactions with fucking old-as-hell ajeosshi must somehow mean that you know how my date with a 27 year old is going to go. Mind your fucking business. I'm glad you feel as though your girlfriend needs you to protect her (lol), but I certainly don't. Thanks for the condescending lecture though, you impotent, arrogant fucking assholes.
Well. I feel better.
Western men: If you do not have even one single close male Korean friend, please abstain from telling me about how Korean men are, because you heard it from your friend's Korean girlfriend who -- let's face it -- is not exactly the most "normal" example of a Korean woman to begin with. And when I point out that I have had hugely, epically, monstorously larger interactions with Korean men of all types than you have (giving a taxi driver directions? ordering a drink at the bar?), don't then proceed to argue with me and inform me that I can't really know because I don't understand the culture.
I'm sorry your Korean girlfriend has had a habit of dating shitty, abusive, disgusting men. But sitting around and listening to her bitch about her ex boyfriends does not mean that you have reached a higher level of cultural understanding in Korea than I have by interacting with actual Korean men of all types, positions and ages on a daily basis, in all kinds of scenarios, including in my work and social life.
Furthermore, expats of Korea: If you generally have the view that all Koreans are ___________ (insert negative trait here), then what you need to do is take a good look at the people you are interacting with. Why are you hanging around shitty people? Who's fault is that? Get your fucking life together and take some responsibility for yourself. To conjure up the idea that an entire country crammed full of people has nothing decent to offer you in the way of friendship or interaction, rather than taking a look at the social situations you are engaging in, is just really fucking lazy. And childish.
I really, really don't care for some of the shit the group Smalltown's been hanging around with come out with sometimes, and how he can start to be a little swayed by them when he spends too much time around them. Those guys have complained from the beginning that I won't really give anyone out there a chance, other than Smalltown -- none of the others even so much as have my phone number, and I will not meet them alone without Smalltown, although I'm always polite when I see them out. But this is why. As nice as they can be to me, they still have some fucked up ways of dealing with the country that they are living in, and I don't have time for that shit. I don't have the patience or the motivation to deal with their territorial bullshit attitudes toward Korean men, while they have no problems whatsoever dating, sleeping with and marrying the women. Or their inability to realize that the girls they are dating, sleeping with and marrying have strings of long histories of abusive relationships do not have those histories because they had the misfortune of being born Korean. Let me give you some phone numbers. Let me tell you some stories. Let me open your eyes to how un-Korean it all is. Back home, you were just content to ignore it, because it was a women's issue. Nice to see you've suddenly had a completely mystifying change of heart, though.
ALSO. You are like forty billion years old. And so is your girlfriend. I'm twenty-five. Please don't get mentally confused about how your interactions with fucking old-as-hell ajeosshi must somehow mean that you know how my date with a 27 year old is going to go. Mind your fucking business. I'm glad you feel as though your girlfriend needs you to protect her (lol), but I certainly don't. Thanks for the condescending lecture though, you impotent, arrogant fucking assholes.
Well. I feel better.
12.27.2010
Dramatic times: The gangsterocity of Incheon.
Fucking. Dramatic times, my friends. I had half a mind to have the girls round next weekend for a quieter night out here in Incheon. Stupid me, forgetting the things that go on around here. Just off the phone with Smalltown and I'm rethinking the whole thing. Now. To clarify. This is not a post about Koreans, or Korean men, or Westerners, or Western men..... or men, in general -- this is a post about a particular type of person, of whom there seem to be many hanging around in our places out here. My Western boys don't seem to help things at times -- that's for sure. Mostly, there's too much alcohol, too much testosterone and too much fucking working class for such confined spaces.
A couple of weekends ago, Smalltown got jumped pretty badly by some Korean guys. This is not the first time I've heard this story -- I've been the sole female voice of reason between the two groups on too many nights out, breaking up fights and smoothing feathers before things have a chance to get out of hand, which is why I've started avoiding the entire situation. We've even had one boy in the hospital for a couple of days as a result of one run-in.
Smalltown couldn't remember the details of that night. Only that he remembers running for his life and waking up with a huge gash across his face. But last night he was sober enough. And this is how these things tend to go down:
Group of Korean men spot a group of Western men in the bar. Group of Korean men jovially invite group of Western men over to buy them a round and have a bit of friendly interaction. Certian factions of group of Western men behave somewhat ignorantly. Certain factions of group of Korean men behave somewhat aggressively. Next thing you know, a fucking brawl breaks out. No good. No good at all.
But this incident had a certain amount of light shed on it by our favorite bar tendress. Basically, the above scenario began, and before long, one of the foreign guys realized his wallet was missing. Korean men tried to leave. Western men prevented them from leaving. Bar tendress found the lost wallet in the bathroom. Smalltown bought Korean men a round of apology. Other foreign men behaved like asses in the face of an apparent huge ignorant mistake on their parts. Smalltown got pissed off at other foreign men and started a fight with them over their ignorance. Everyone calmed down. Other foreign men left. Korean men begged Smalltown to stay. Smalltown waffled for a bit, and went to follow foreign men out. Foreign men were gone. Smalltown came back inside to re-join group of Korean men. Korean men were gone -- missed him between the stairs and the elevator. Bar tendress grabbed Smalltown and explained that the Korean men had indeed taken the wallet, then ditched it in the bathroom when no one (but her) was looking. Also were trying to get Smalltown (any of the group) alone to jump him. Just because. Which has apparently been happening a lot out there lately.
Mostly, stuff this serious has filtered down to me from other groups hanging out at other bars. But the fact that it's on the home turf now has me feeling not so confident. When me and the girls go out, who do you think we end up talking to most of the time? And how much worse would an interaction with one of these packs of men end if the people on the receiving end of their nonsense were women? I don't know. I have pretty good instincts, and the second any man in any group starts to get out of line, I'm pretty much done. But it makes me nervous. We haven't had that much trouble out here in the past, because there haven't been that many foreigners out here in the past. But as the groups of foreign men out and about carrying on on the weekends have increased, I guess so has the animosity from certain groups toward them, as a category. And I don't know how that might carry over onto foreign women.
I don't want to go into Seoul for NYE. I really don't. The whole thing sounds like a chaotic nightmare. But this gangster ass shit out here is just something I'm getting too old for these days. Maybe I'll just stay in and eat cupcakes.
(Not likely.)
A couple of weekends ago, Smalltown got jumped pretty badly by some Korean guys. This is not the first time I've heard this story -- I've been the sole female voice of reason between the two groups on too many nights out, breaking up fights and smoothing feathers before things have a chance to get out of hand, which is why I've started avoiding the entire situation. We've even had one boy in the hospital for a couple of days as a result of one run-in.
Smalltown couldn't remember the details of that night. Only that he remembers running for his life and waking up with a huge gash across his face. But last night he was sober enough. And this is how these things tend to go down:
Group of Korean men spot a group of Western men in the bar. Group of Korean men jovially invite group of Western men over to buy them a round and have a bit of friendly interaction. Certian factions of group of Western men behave somewhat ignorantly. Certain factions of group of Korean men behave somewhat aggressively. Next thing you know, a fucking brawl breaks out. No good. No good at all.
But this incident had a certain amount of light shed on it by our favorite bar tendress. Basically, the above scenario began, and before long, one of the foreign guys realized his wallet was missing. Korean men tried to leave. Western men prevented them from leaving. Bar tendress found the lost wallet in the bathroom. Smalltown bought Korean men a round of apology. Other foreign men behaved like asses in the face of an apparent huge ignorant mistake on their parts. Smalltown got pissed off at other foreign men and started a fight with them over their ignorance. Everyone calmed down. Other foreign men left. Korean men begged Smalltown to stay. Smalltown waffled for a bit, and went to follow foreign men out. Foreign men were gone. Smalltown came back inside to re-join group of Korean men. Korean men were gone -- missed him between the stairs and the elevator. Bar tendress grabbed Smalltown and explained that the Korean men had indeed taken the wallet, then ditched it in the bathroom when no one (but her) was looking. Also were trying to get Smalltown (any of the group) alone to jump him. Just because. Which has apparently been happening a lot out there lately.
Mostly, stuff this serious has filtered down to me from other groups hanging out at other bars. But the fact that it's on the home turf now has me feeling not so confident. When me and the girls go out, who do you think we end up talking to most of the time? And how much worse would an interaction with one of these packs of men end if the people on the receiving end of their nonsense were women? I don't know. I have pretty good instincts, and the second any man in any group starts to get out of line, I'm pretty much done. But it makes me nervous. We haven't had that much trouble out here in the past, because there haven't been that many foreigners out here in the past. But as the groups of foreign men out and about carrying on on the weekends have increased, I guess so has the animosity from certain groups toward them, as a category. And I don't know how that might carry over onto foreign women.
I don't want to go into Seoul for NYE. I really don't. The whole thing sounds like a chaotic nightmare. But this gangster ass shit out here is just something I'm getting too old for these days. Maybe I'll just stay in and eat cupcakes.
(Not likely.)
Formspring madness.
Someone psychotic and/or stupid and/or really into trolling me got into my Formspring box last night. I'm just going to take this all at once, and let you folks know that any further such obvious nonsense will be deleted and ignored. Because I do not have time to play Uncle Dave to your stupidity.
I don't have that impression, so maybe you should ask the foreigners who do. If it's actually your impression, maybe Koreans seem angry with you because you make vast, sweeping generalizations that don't appear to have much intelligence behind them.
Why do foreigners have the impression that Koreans are angry?
I don't have that impression, so maybe you should ask the foreigners who do. If it's actually your impression, maybe Koreans seem angry with you because you make vast, sweeping generalizations that don't appear to have much intelligence behind them.
Why do Koreans seem to dislike adoptees, gyopos?
I'm not Korean, an adoptee, or gyopo, so I have no idea why you would ask me this question.I've noticed Koreans seem to heavily pat their small children on the back, head, etc. rather hard as a part of giving them affection. Instead of lightly stroking them as people do in the US? Is this something you've noticed?
Is this a joke? What do you expect me to say to this? I have no idea what this even means. No, this is not something that I've noticed. Maybe because it doesn't happen. Or maybe because I don't see one person do something one time and assume an entire race does it, while also ignoring the fact that everyone in my home culture handle their children in completely different manners as well.I hear in the news here and there stories of Koreans physically abusing their children. There also seems to be a lot of mental "pressure" as well for them to perform, study, etc. What's you take on this?
What country are you in? Are you in Korea? If so, the reason why you hear stories about Koreans physically abusing their children on the news is because you are in Korea and nearly all of the news is about Koreans. You also probably hear stories about Koreans raping, murdering and stealing. Those are the kinds of things that tend to end up on the news. If you are in a Western country, then I imagine for some reason you've decided to focus in on a very, very small percentage of the news and chosen to ignore all of the thousands of incidents of Westerners abusing their children. Or locking children in closets for days on end with no food, or sexually molesting them, or kidnapping them. My take on this is that you have some very serious issues with Koreans for some reason, and should probably just stay away from them entirely, rather than interacting with total ignorance and embarrassing yourself.12.24.2010
Cheeseball Christmasy pondering.
Kind of a rare, serious (cheesy?) moment if I may....
Do you know what happened to me last weekend? I met someone who I haven't seen for a very long time. Maybe he's having a hard time. I don't know. I never really felt like I knew him that well. He asked me to rank my life's happiness at this moment on a scale from 1 to 10. I said, 8 or 9. Without even really thinking about it. He said, "Me? Two or three...."
I never would've said 2 or 3, even when I was. But man... I don't know. I have my sweet days playing with the boys, hanging out with my coworkers, everything relaxing at work. I have good things planned for the holiday weekends, and so many friends that I can't even keep up with everyone, on rotation. I'm going to Europe in less than a month to see some of the world's most lovely people and get back to myself a bit. I have these families here who treat me like their own. I have my family back home who will stay on the phone with me for hours, just carrying on as if I were sitting next to them in the living room/car/kitchen.
I have a lot to be thankful for. And I know Christmas isn't Thanksgiving, but it is the time of year when I come into contact with all of the lovely people who make my life as fucking fantastic as it is all at once. So I'm thinking about it. And hearing someone else say 2 or 3 kind of kicked my ass this weekend. Because that's not me. I'm an 8 or a 9. Which means, really, I might as well be a 10.
But do you know what? I never would've gotten here if I hadn't taken a fucking look around, at some point, and realized that I probably was at a 2 or 3. And decided that, fucked if I was going to stay there, or let it get worse. Drastic measures and all that. Mine have worked out fucking splendidly.
Merry fucking Christmas, youse guys. I hope you're at least at an 8. You all deserve it.
Do you know what happened to me last weekend? I met someone who I haven't seen for a very long time. Maybe he's having a hard time. I don't know. I never really felt like I knew him that well. He asked me to rank my life's happiness at this moment on a scale from 1 to 10. I said, 8 or 9. Without even really thinking about it. He said, "Me? Two or three...."
I never would've said 2 or 3, even when I was. But man... I don't know. I have my sweet days playing with the boys, hanging out with my coworkers, everything relaxing at work. I have good things planned for the holiday weekends, and so many friends that I can't even keep up with everyone, on rotation. I'm going to Europe in less than a month to see some of the world's most lovely people and get back to myself a bit. I have these families here who treat me like their own. I have my family back home who will stay on the phone with me for hours, just carrying on as if I were sitting next to them in the living room/car/kitchen.
I have a lot to be thankful for. And I know Christmas isn't Thanksgiving, but it is the time of year when I come into contact with all of the lovely people who make my life as fucking fantastic as it is all at once. So I'm thinking about it. And hearing someone else say 2 or 3 kind of kicked my ass this weekend. Because that's not me. I'm an 8 or a 9. Which means, really, I might as well be a 10.
But do you know what? I never would've gotten here if I hadn't taken a fucking look around, at some point, and realized that I probably was at a 2 or 3. And decided that, fucked if I was going to stay there, or let it get worse. Drastic measures and all that. Mine have worked out fucking splendidly.
Merry fucking Christmas, youse guys. I hope you're at least at an 8. You all deserve it.
12.23.2010
Movies, Minwoos and run-on sentences.
My life is so stupidly, colossally busy at the moment. Outside of work. Inside of work, it's all movies and nonsense. Oh man. They are so fucking cute during movies. Now. If you put on Wallace and Gromit without giving them a choice, they will whine and bellyache for nearly the first half of class about how it's a baby movie Teacher! We are not babies! But. If you give them the option of watching Wallace and Gromit, amongst several other distinctively less babyish options, they will overwhelmingly vote in favor of Wallace and Gromit. And then watch it with their mouths hanging open for the duration. Even without subtitles.
They will also:
So. I just smiled and asked, "Why are you asking?" in answer. A few other students turned around and smacked at the Minwoo-like's puppet who had asked the question. "She's a foreigner, idiot. She doesn't speak Korean." Minwoo-like didn't quite understand what had happened, and was getting angry, so he went to smack the other kid to make him ask me again, but I just caught his eye and smiled and shook my head. He did a big, pretty boy grin and let the subject drop.
I don't know why one or two of those boys from the worst group in every year will take a shine to me out of fucking nowhere, but it really has saved my ass. I usually have a pretty love/hate relationship with the boys in these groups, and there are sure to be a few who just don't like me. Or, probably, any other teacher. But having those couple of strongholds with the stronger members of these groups keeps me from having to deal with their behavior directly. I'm sure I'd work out a way to deal with it, eventually, but it sure is nice not to have to.
Anyway. What else is going on? Monday night I went to the center to teach Taeyoung, who is fucking lovely and adorable. Tuesday night I worked my ass off making chocolate truffles to give to the mothers yesterday as a Christmas/goodbye present, as our class was meant to end last week, but they felt unprepared for that, and wanted to go out for lunch yesterday anyway. So we did that. And I bought an oven. And tonight I may bake a pie? Even though I've never baked a pie before and don't really know how to, because now I have an oven and I sort of feel this pressure.... Tomorrow night I'll head to Dating In Korea's to beat the Christmas traffic and try to see.... well, I don't know -- something about idols at midnight?
I know. Run-on sentences. My life is a run-on sentence at the moment. Things should slow down for like a second after the New Year. I hope.
They will also:
- Move seats so that they can cuddle with their favorite friends during movie time, sometimes resulting in a whole pile of boys sprawled across each other.
- Shout out every detail of every second of the film if they've seen it before, just to prove how ahead of everyone else they are.
- Make really dead obvious comments almost continuously, such as, "Oh, he's drinking tea!"
- Make a really huge deal out of anything even slightly gross the characters do, even though they do way grosser things all the time.
So. I just smiled and asked, "Why are you asking?" in answer. A few other students turned around and smacked at the Minwoo-like's puppet who had asked the question. "She's a foreigner, idiot. She doesn't speak Korean." Minwoo-like didn't quite understand what had happened, and was getting angry, so he went to smack the other kid to make him ask me again, but I just caught his eye and smiled and shook my head. He did a big, pretty boy grin and let the subject drop.
I don't know why one or two of those boys from the worst group in every year will take a shine to me out of fucking nowhere, but it really has saved my ass. I usually have a pretty love/hate relationship with the boys in these groups, and there are sure to be a few who just don't like me. Or, probably, any other teacher. But having those couple of strongholds with the stronger members of these groups keeps me from having to deal with their behavior directly. I'm sure I'd work out a way to deal with it, eventually, but it sure is nice not to have to.
Anyway. What else is going on? Monday night I went to the center to teach Taeyoung, who is fucking lovely and adorable. Tuesday night I worked my ass off making chocolate truffles to give to the mothers yesterday as a Christmas/goodbye present, as our class was meant to end last week, but they felt unprepared for that, and wanted to go out for lunch yesterday anyway. So we did that. And I bought an oven. And tonight I may bake a pie? Even though I've never baked a pie before and don't really know how to, because now I have an oven and I sort of feel this pressure.... Tomorrow night I'll head to Dating In Korea's to beat the Christmas traffic and try to see.... well, I don't know -- something about idols at midnight?
I know. Run-on sentences. My life is a run-on sentence at the moment. Things should slow down for like a second after the New Year. I hope.
Dear whoever found my blog by googling "korean girlfriend doesn't put out",
Maybe it's because you refer to it as 'putting out'. And because you seem to have a serious fucking attitude problem. You're disgusting. And not sexy. She's probably afraid the sex would be horrible. Try being less gross, judgmental, entitled and desperate. Try evolving your vocabulary past the tenth grade. And your perspective on women, as well. Then maybe she won't expect the sex to also be like in high school, and won't avoid it so eagerly.
xo,
INP.
Dear whoever found my blog by googling "the appeal of strong women",
Well hello, sailor.
xo,
INP.
xo,
INP.
Dear whoever found my blog by googling "the appeal of strong women",
Well hello, sailor.
xo,
INP.
12.22.2010
Pervert student: handled.
Well, I don't think I'll have to worry about the pervert first grader again. I didn't mean to scare him as badly as I did. Sometimes, when they act that way, I forget for a minute how they really are children. I also forget that they get the absolute gentlest version of my personality 95% of the time, and it can be quite shocking when I suddenly shift the way that I can sometimes.
I was standing there preparing the computer for class at the podium, like I always do. He came and stood two inches from my face and stared, like he always does. I told him to go away, twice. He moved closer. I pushed him away. He went away for a second and then came back. He started to grab at me as if to try to kiss me again.
I just fucking snapped. Not in like a 'rage' way, but in the sense that I left "teacher" mode and switched into "just fucking Liz" mode. I wasn't actually angry -- just fed up. Without even thinking about it, I grabbed his wrist in mid-grope and twisted it around behind his back, got right in his face and asked if he wanted to go to the haksaengbu. I didn't even raise my voice, but my face must have changed quite severely or something, because he looked fucking terrified. I'm also a lot stronger than I look, and I wasn't exactly gripping his wrist lightly. I let go of his wrist and he ran off to stand behind his friends.
Whoops. Not so grown up afterall. Anyway, it was better than whatever the haksaengbu would've done to him.
I was standing there preparing the computer for class at the podium, like I always do. He came and stood two inches from my face and stared, like he always does. I told him to go away, twice. He moved closer. I pushed him away. He went away for a second and then came back. He started to grab at me as if to try to kiss me again.
I just fucking snapped. Not in like a 'rage' way, but in the sense that I left "teacher" mode and switched into "just fucking Liz" mode. I wasn't actually angry -- just fed up. Without even thinking about it, I grabbed his wrist in mid-grope and twisted it around behind his back, got right in his face and asked if he wanted to go to the haksaengbu. I didn't even raise my voice, but my face must have changed quite severely or something, because he looked fucking terrified. I'm also a lot stronger than I look, and I wasn't exactly gripping his wrist lightly. I let go of his wrist and he ran off to stand behind his friends.
Whoops. Not so grown up afterall. Anyway, it was better than whatever the haksaengbu would've done to him.
12.21.2010
On just trying to help.
You know, they're trying to help. Starting from this week, the teacher who normally drives me to school is away at teachers' training. That's fine. Walking to school is fine. I like a walk in the morning. I actually prefer to walk it, but sort of had this ride forced on me in the first place -- it's impossible to say no. So, yesterday I was walking. Another teacher who doesn't speak any English pulled over and picked me up. That was nice of her.
When we got out of the car, she told me in Korean that she would pick me up at the same place, same time tomorrow. I said, no that's okay. She said, no, she drives past that place every morning anyway. I agreed. I know resistance is futile. I also know, however, that arrangements like this when there is very little ability to communicate clearly are almost always a huge mistake. They don't -- this is usually the first time they've dealt with the language barrier. I've been through it probably thousands of times. I already know this is probably going to end up somehow being an inconvenience, if not to both parties, then at least to one.
Flash forward to this morning. Me standing there in the freezing cold being gawked at as every car that drives past slows down to get a good look at the foreigner. Fifteen minutes pass. I would've been at work by then, had I just walked. But I wasn't. I was standing there having to decide if she meant another place -- in front of my house, perhaps? If she was just running late. If she was waiting for me somewhere else and I was making her late. If she would be there in two minutes, and would sit and wait if I walked away, meaning I would make her late. And with absolutely no ability to reach her and find out what is going on.
Instead of just leaving my house and walking to work, fifteen quick moving minutes in the cold, I left my house, stood around freezing for fifteen minutes, then walked fifteen minutes in the cold to have to shuffle past the haksaengbu teachers with my head down at the fact that I was coming in at literally the last possible minute before I would techinically be late.
They're just trying to help. They're always just trying to help. But they don't understand the situation the same way that you do. Or the fact that insisting when you say it's alright makes you feel obligated to accept, even though it's actually kind of an inconvenience.
It's the same when coworkers hear that I'm planning to go somewhere and try to "help" me navigate public transportation, even though they drive everywhere blindly following their navis and rarely even actually live in Incheon. I know I'm a foreigner. Okay. But I've lived in this city, getting around completely on my own using public transport and on foot for two years now. There is nothing you know about the metro or bus system that I don't. And you're kind of wasting like thirty minutes of my time trying to first understand, and then explain something to me that you don't actually know anything about. In fact, I'm having to explain it to you and watch as you try to confirm what I'm saying, rather than just believing that I know what's going on, so instead it kind of feels like Foreigner Quiz Time.
They're just trying to help. They're just trying to help. Vacation is coming soon and I won't have to be a foreigner for like a minute and everything will feel better after that and they're just trying to help.
When we got out of the car, she told me in Korean that she would pick me up at the same place, same time tomorrow. I said, no that's okay. She said, no, she drives past that place every morning anyway. I agreed. I know resistance is futile. I also know, however, that arrangements like this when there is very little ability to communicate clearly are almost always a huge mistake. They don't -- this is usually the first time they've dealt with the language barrier. I've been through it probably thousands of times. I already know this is probably going to end up somehow being an inconvenience, if not to both parties, then at least to one.
Flash forward to this morning. Me standing there in the freezing cold being gawked at as every car that drives past slows down to get a good look at the foreigner. Fifteen minutes pass. I would've been at work by then, had I just walked. But I wasn't. I was standing there having to decide if she meant another place -- in front of my house, perhaps? If she was just running late. If she was waiting for me somewhere else and I was making her late. If she would be there in two minutes, and would sit and wait if I walked away, meaning I would make her late. And with absolutely no ability to reach her and find out what is going on.
Instead of just leaving my house and walking to work, fifteen quick moving minutes in the cold, I left my house, stood around freezing for fifteen minutes, then walked fifteen minutes in the cold to have to shuffle past the haksaengbu teachers with my head down at the fact that I was coming in at literally the last possible minute before I would techinically be late.
They're just trying to help. They're always just trying to help. But they don't understand the situation the same way that you do. Or the fact that insisting when you say it's alright makes you feel obligated to accept, even though it's actually kind of an inconvenience.
It's the same when coworkers hear that I'm planning to go somewhere and try to "help" me navigate public transportation, even though they drive everywhere blindly following their navis and rarely even actually live in Incheon. I know I'm a foreigner. Okay. But I've lived in this city, getting around completely on my own using public transport and on foot for two years now. There is nothing you know about the metro or bus system that I don't. And you're kind of wasting like thirty minutes of my time trying to first understand, and then explain something to me that you don't actually know anything about. In fact, I'm having to explain it to you and watch as you try to confirm what I'm saying, rather than just believing that I know what's going on, so instead it kind of feels like Foreigner Quiz Time.
They're just trying to help. They're just trying to help. Vacation is coming soon and I won't have to be a foreigner for like a minute and everything will feel better after that and they're just trying to help.
12.17.2010
It's been a long time since I've posted music in this blog, but this is the album I'm currently completely addicted to and listening to get ready to go out tonight (out on a Friday night -- the world might end, or: I might fall asleep on the bar). I might regret it for the rest of my life that I didn't find a way to marry Tiger JK, if it weren't for the fact that Tasha is so epically much better than I am anyway.
Movie movie time and slang.
Even though it fucking kills my brain to watch the same movie 22 times in a row, it is one of my favorite parts of the year. Because, for once (as during camps), I don't have to focus mostly on getting a lesson across, keeping the classroom under some semblance of order, and making sure the students understand and complete their assignments. I'm not managing behavior, comprehension and time all at once. I can just sit back and hang out with the boys for a bit. Which I get to do with a certain percentage pretty often, as they come by the office often, but not with the entire population. It's my chance to get to know some of the students I don't get much one-on-one time with at any other point.
It's also stupidly cute to watch them watch a movie. Enhanced an incredible amount by being able to understand their ridiculous running commentary. The way they giggle uncontrollably at certain parts, and turn around to see if I think it's funny as well. Or how they all "woooooooooooooooo!" at the scene where Zooey Deschanel can be seen down to the shoulders in the shower, while shooting looks at my face for a reaction. And how students who I've never heard speak a single lick of English will go to such lengths as to ask their friends for help, and then shout, "Camera down!" just to make sure I get the point.
One student took the opportunity to explain how "elf girl" is slang for a girl with a cute face and a "glamorous" (big-breasted) body. I took the opportunity to explain that, in native English, "glamor" has little to nothing to do with a woman's breasts. He then asked me how to say "breasts" in English. I declined to comment. He'll figure it out soon enough on his own, I'm sure. I can't think of any good reason why he should need the word at this point. I'll leave that for a high school or university weoneomin. Plus, how do you choose a good word for that? I don't really like any of them.
I had one third grader come out with, "Yaknowatimsayinman!" today and it was fucking surreal. His accent, pronunciation and intonation were all dead on. It could've been fucking Jay-Z speaking. My head snapped around and the students cracked up at what was obvious, genuine shock -- something they don't see out of me very often. He told me he learned it from "hip hop". My students don't know slang. At the very best, I'll get a really cheesy "yo yo wassup man!" out of the occasional really high level student. One called me "my brother" last week and then got really embarrassed when I pointed out that 1. I would be a sister and 2. it's not really a case-appropriate expression for reference to a teacher. Nevermind the idea that it's somehow disrespectful, which is what he thought I was saying at first. It's just literally, realistically, not something you would use in native English with a teacher. Which was the point I was trying to get across. But I'm still happy with them putting in the effort. I've only ever even run across a couple of students who know what I'm saying when I use the word "cool".
I'm trying not to think about the fact that the boys who were first graders when I arrived will be leaving in a couple of months. It was hard enough saying goodbye to the third graders last year. And hardly any of them have been back to visit. But they've been working really hard the last couple of months preparing to enter high school, and it is time for them to go. Unfortunately, a large portion of them have ended up in all boys high schools, a fact which brings utter remorse to their faces when I ask about it. But they're already getting dangerously brave with their pre-high school haircuts. These are the thing that really matter.
It's also stupidly cute to watch them watch a movie. Enhanced an incredible amount by being able to understand their ridiculous running commentary. The way they giggle uncontrollably at certain parts, and turn around to see if I think it's funny as well. Or how they all "woooooooooooooooo!" at the scene where Zooey Deschanel can be seen down to the shoulders in the shower, while shooting looks at my face for a reaction. And how students who I've never heard speak a single lick of English will go to such lengths as to ask their friends for help, and then shout, "Camera down!" just to make sure I get the point.
One student took the opportunity to explain how "elf girl" is slang for a girl with a cute face and a "glamorous" (big-breasted) body. I took the opportunity to explain that, in native English, "glamor" has little to nothing to do with a woman's breasts. He then asked me how to say "breasts" in English. I declined to comment. He'll figure it out soon enough on his own, I'm sure. I can't think of any good reason why he should need the word at this point. I'll leave that for a high school or university weoneomin. Plus, how do you choose a good word for that? I don't really like any of them.
I had one third grader come out with, "Yaknowatimsayinman!" today and it was fucking surreal. His accent, pronunciation and intonation were all dead on. It could've been fucking Jay-Z speaking. My head snapped around and the students cracked up at what was obvious, genuine shock -- something they don't see out of me very often. He told me he learned it from "hip hop". My students don't know slang. At the very best, I'll get a really cheesy "yo yo wassup man!" out of the occasional really high level student. One called me "my brother" last week and then got really embarrassed when I pointed out that 1. I would be a sister and 2. it's not really a case-appropriate expression for reference to a teacher. Nevermind the idea that it's somehow disrespectful, which is what he thought I was saying at first. It's just literally, realistically, not something you would use in native English with a teacher. Which was the point I was trying to get across. But I'm still happy with them putting in the effort. I've only ever even run across a couple of students who know what I'm saying when I use the word "cool".
I'm trying not to think about the fact that the boys who were first graders when I arrived will be leaving in a couple of months. It was hard enough saying goodbye to the third graders last year. And hardly any of them have been back to visit. But they've been working really hard the last couple of months preparing to enter high school, and it is time for them to go. Unfortunately, a large portion of them have ended up in all boys high schools, a fact which brings utter remorse to their faces when I ask about it. But they're already getting dangerously brave with their pre-high school haircuts. These are the thing that really matter.
12.16.2010
General update.
So, within minutes of making a rather negative post over at Tumblr this morning after the day got off to a pretty shitty and frustrating start, I got my fucking attitude together. One thing I can say for the way my father raised me: his "suck it up and deal and I don't want to hear any whining while you're at it" method of parenting has served me well in policing myself generally in life and especially in this job. I'm pretty good at having the same conversation with myself, almost automatically.
And I had a pretty good day. Which included a really awkward car ride with the two maintenance ajeosshi from my school, who proceeded to blowdry my pipes and fiddle with various other fixtures until the water came back. Then, back to school. The chocolate truffles I made last night were a huge hit with the other teachers, and I got to spend lunch time explaining in a horrific mash of broken English and Korean how to make them to the entire table. I might suggest a lesson in the science lab sometime, if they really want to see how I did it. It's dead easy, and the teachers love to learn little things like that. Last semester, we learned how to make soap, and some of the teachers did dance classes in the gym.Next up, business trip, where the presenters didn't feel the need to ego-trip in the slightest, and made quick, succinct presentations of useful (if already mostly known to some of us) information. They did a really excellent job, actually, and I'm happy to say I'll be using some of what they suggested.
Got to catch up with a friend at a neighboring school for a bit, which is always nice, and got a good look at all the new teachers in the district. What a shockingly normal group of waegs. The recession in the West seems to be bringing out the best in foreign ESL teachers, these days.
On the walk home, I ran into some of my new little first grade trouble makers outside the Familymart eating ramyeon with girls, a favorite activity of up-and-coming jjang crews. Among them were: one student who is always super respectful and is a bit of a replacement Minwoo, in that he will sit right up front for my classes, and scares the fuck out of the other students if they so much as breathe the wrong way during my class time; one mischevious trouble maker who I generally like, but who I sometimes have to get harsh with; the little pervert who tried to kiss me a couple of months ago. Small, medium and large. Coming out of the shop, I was greeted with the pervert's horrible little face staring me down from the other side of the glass. The ajeosshi behind the counter started to come around to handle whatever situation was making me make that face, when he realized it was just one of my students.
This student always tries to grab me. He thinks it's great fun. And someday very soon, he and I are going to have a very fun little trip to the haksaengbu. I've been itching to make it happen for a while now. But for now, whenever I encounter him, I usually just press a forefinger to his forehead and mock the fact that he's so tiny that this is a perfectly valid method of keeping him at bay. Usually, I've got him well in hand, and the other mischevious student just looks on and laughs. But something about the way the pervert called his friend (a student from another school) over to watch tonight rubbed him the wrong way. I wasn't exactly thrilled with it either. But before I had the chance to react, the mischevious student shouted at him to cut it out and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him around to the other side quite harshly. He bowed and politely told me goodbye.
He wasn't doing it for show. Something legitimately pissed him off about it. Which is a side of his character I haven't seen yet. I went on my way tonight without saying anything about it, but I'll definitely see his shenanigans in a different light during classtime from now on. You probably shouldn't make allowances for students' behavior during classtime based on things like this, but I think the relationship just changes. It was nice to have one go in that direction tonight, as a few others (with the monstorous second graders) have been going the other way the past few months -- students I was quite close to when they were first graders have been pushing the limits during classtime, and I've had to come down quite hard on them. They haven't been as eager to greet me outside of school since. But they'll be third graders soon, and past the 'terrible twos', and things should set themselves right again.
Another year. More little babies running around being shocked at the sight of my face soon. I can't believe how fast time is moving these days.
Hello, floods of new people.
So, The Korean has sent my visitor stats through the roof. Probably with a crowd that is quite a bit different than the normal visitors to this blog, who are almost exclusively foreign English teachers in Korea. I have been possibly the laziest blogger ever of late, due to a pretty wicked illness and the pickup in the social arena that the holidays always bring. I'm going to try to get back to at least occasionally writing things that might be of interest to someone other than my mom at some point. I promise.
But for now, it is the holiday season and camps are creeping up on me, as is vacation. It's a time when I'm really focused on the people who really matter in my life, like my students, my co-workers, my family and my friends (both in the ROK and in all sorts of other countries outside). I'm attending holiday get-togethers, spending more time making international phone calls, trying my best to make suitable hotel reservations, organizing meet-ups in foreign countries with people I haven't seen for literally years, making a wreck of my kitchen with homemade chocolate gift bags, eating 'goodbye' (for the semester) dinners with all kinds of pupils and co-workers, Christmas shopping and trying to plan the most awesome English camp we've had to date.
So bear with me. And I hope at least some of you see fit to stick around. As a sort of preview, someone asked a really fantastic question a really long time ago about what I think about the new corporal punishment ban in public schools in Seoul, which is something I probably have a bit of an odd view on for a foreign teacher in Korea. Given that, even though I am American, I was raised using quite a bit of corporal punishment myself.
So. Hello. And stuff. Blogging is so awkward.....
But for now, it is the holiday season and camps are creeping up on me, as is vacation. It's a time when I'm really focused on the people who really matter in my life, like my students, my co-workers, my family and my friends (both in the ROK and in all sorts of other countries outside). I'm attending holiday get-togethers, spending more time making international phone calls, trying my best to make suitable hotel reservations, organizing meet-ups in foreign countries with people I haven't seen for literally years, making a wreck of my kitchen with homemade chocolate gift bags, eating 'goodbye' (for the semester) dinners with all kinds of pupils and co-workers, Christmas shopping and trying to plan the most awesome English camp we've had to date.
So bear with me. And I hope at least some of you see fit to stick around. As a sort of preview, someone asked a really fantastic question a really long time ago about what I think about the new corporal punishment ban in public schools in Seoul, which is something I probably have a bit of an odd view on for a foreign teacher in Korea. Given that, even though I am American, I was raised using quite a bit of corporal punishment myself.
So. Hello. And stuff. Blogging is so awkward.....
12.15.2010
No water.
Well, I'm excited. My water's off. I'm assuming the pipes have frozen, due to the cold snap we had today. I know I'm not alone in this because I ran into the friendly ajumma who lives downstairs coming out of the building while I was going in holding her rice cooker in her arms and looking bewildered. Didn't think much of it at the moment, other than, where could that dear old woman be going in this cold with her rice cooker? Then I flipped on the faucet to refill the rabbit's water dish and fuck all happened, and it made a bit more sense.
That was at six o'clock. It's now 9:30, as I type. Still nothing. This will more than likely result in me getting to attend my teachers' training tomorrow as a smelly greaseball. Fantastic. During the evening hours, I still held some hope that something would be done, but as we slip into official nighttime, I'm not so optimistic.
I braved the nasty weather to go to Homeplus tonight specifically to gather supplies to do two things: 1. Dye my hair and 2. Make a trial batch of chocolate truffles for all of the holiday events that are coming up, since I don't have an oven and can't actually bake. There was nothing I could do about the dye job being foiled. But, being the rational adult human being that I am, I steadfastly refused to give up my truffle making plan. Now my kitchen has gone from spotless to overflowing with nonsense, and I don't even know when I'll have the chance to fix that.
Things that you cannot do without water, in case you've never been in the situation and don't realize:
Please. Just come back on. Please.
That was at six o'clock. It's now 9:30, as I type. Still nothing. This will more than likely result in me getting to attend my teachers' training tomorrow as a smelly greaseball. Fantastic. During the evening hours, I still held some hope that something would be done, but as we slip into official nighttime, I'm not so optimistic.
I braved the nasty weather to go to Homeplus tonight specifically to gather supplies to do two things: 1. Dye my hair and 2. Make a trial batch of chocolate truffles for all of the holiday events that are coming up, since I don't have an oven and can't actually bake. There was nothing I could do about the dye job being foiled. But, being the rational adult human being that I am, I steadfastly refused to give up my truffle making plan. Now my kitchen has gone from spotless to overflowing with nonsense, and I don't even know when I'll have the chance to fix that.
Things that you cannot do without water, in case you've never been in the situation and don't realize:
- Brush your teeth.
- Flush your toilet.
- Make coffee.
- Wash your hands.
- Give the rabbit water.
- Give yourself water.
Please. Just come back on. Please.
I don't mean to turn this into a cross-linking lovefest, but...
... I just couldn't, couldn't not make a post pointing out The Korean's new post on "What is the Line Between Curious and Creepy?" Because. Because because because. Because I take a lot of crap off of people for doing everything from cracking "jokes" to making quite alarmingly and purposely bitchy comments in response to this kind of thing, which has, frankly, overrun the Tumblr female blogging world of late. In my charmingly humble opinion.
I'm usually not able to articulate a response to it with any kind of rationality because it just honestly makes me want to blow shit up. Like, machete chop people in the face. Not joking. And I've been trying to find the words to write about it for a very, very long time. I'm not capable of being rational about it. So I just wanted to climb through the monitor and offer The Korean my firstborn in response to him making this post. He's obviously been in a situation where he's been keenly aware of this issue for much longer than I have, and has calmed the fuck down about it. I'm still in my eye-opening, shaky-legged newborn, "I CAN'T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE LIKE THIS!" phase with it.
So go there and read it. And here's the most pertinent excerpt to me, as a teaser:
I'm usually not able to articulate a response to it with any kind of rationality because it just honestly makes me want to blow shit up. Like, machete chop people in the face. Not joking. And I've been trying to find the words to write about it for a very, very long time. I'm not capable of being rational about it. So I just wanted to climb through the monitor and offer The Korean my firstborn in response to him making this post. He's obviously been in a situation where he's been keenly aware of this issue for much longer than I have, and has calmed the fuck down about it. I'm still in my eye-opening, shaky-legged newborn, "I CAN'T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE LIKE THIS!" phase with it.
So go there and read it. And here's the most pertinent excerpt to me, as a teaser:
TF's preferred choice of companionship is not a fully grown adult woman, but a doll representing an abstract concept who -- which -- speaks in broken, infantile English that does not allow the full expression of her true intelligence and emotions. And to keep her happy, all it takes is to feed her with occasional chagiya ("honey") and "cute presents."
Needless to say, this is creepy as shit. Having a blow-up doll as a girlfriend would be less creepy. At least boyfriend of a blow-up doll cannot hide from the world the fact that his girlfriend is no more than a latex shell filled with ambient air and wishful projections. But boyfriend of an objectified Asian woman can go around pretending (or worse, like TF seems to be, actually believing,) that he is a champion of racial harmony and cross-cultural understanding.
Needless to say, this is creepy as shit. Having a blow-up doll as a girlfriend would be less creepy. At least boyfriend of a blow-up doll cannot hide from the world the fact that his girlfriend is no more than a latex shell filled with ambient air and wishful projections. But boyfriend of an objectified Asian woman can go around pretending (or worse, like TF seems to be, actually believing,) that he is a champion of racial harmony and cross-cultural understanding.
12.09.2010
And now for something completely unrelated to Korea.
So, the other night me and The Kid spent three hours hashing out this vacation nonsense. The original plan was just to meet in Greece. Why Greece? Because it's not that far from the UK (where The Kid resides) and the weather would be relatively warm. The trouble is, she can only stay away for a week, and I have two weeks vacation. And this is the only time during the year that we can see each other. And, despite having lived thousands of miles apart for the entirety of the past seven years, we are still best of. So. As I have a way of doing, I invited myself to her flat in Glasgow for a week, in addition to our week in Greece. I like Glasgow. I like the kids in Glasgow. I like The Kid. It would be worth the extra cash, while I have the precious vacation time. Plus, I get antsy as fuck when I'm in the ROK and not working.
The trouble is, flying to Greece, then Glasgow, then back to the ROK would cost over $2000. Flying to Glasgow, then Greece, then Glasgow, then the ROK would cost $1300. Amazing, that. But it would suck up loads of extra time. So we decided to settle on somewhere closer. To the UK, that is.
Confused yet? Fucking hell. You should've seen the state of us trying to work this out.
The long and the short of it is, we found a flight from Edinburgh to Milan (from where we could easily travel to Venice, as well) for 50 pounds, and a flight from Glasgow to Barcelona for 18 (18!) pounds. Obviously, Barcelona is the easy choice. But we still can't make up our feeble minds. We gave ourselves "a night" to think on it, and here it is, two days later, and still nothing has been decided. Part of the problem, I think, is that The Kid got pick-pocketed last she was in Spain and a little afraid to go back, and I, in the meantime, appear to have developed some kind of emotional attachment to this photo of cakes in Milan:
I need those cakes. On my vacation. I need those cakes.
We both conducted Facebook polls, which both came out overwhelmingly in favor of Barcelona. But I think we still need help. Tell me why I should give up on the cake of my dream and take the chance of having the ultimate tourist experience of having my pocketbook lifted and just give up and go to Barcelona. Or, if you have reasons why my campaign for excellent cake should be supported in the form of a slightly less convenient, slightly more expenive trip to Milan instead, please make them known. We need to make up our minds. Yesterday.
The trouble is, flying to Greece, then Glasgow, then back to the ROK would cost over $2000. Flying to Glasgow, then Greece, then Glasgow, then the ROK would cost $1300. Amazing, that. But it would suck up loads of extra time. So we decided to settle on somewhere closer. To the UK, that is.
Confused yet? Fucking hell. You should've seen the state of us trying to work this out.
The long and the short of it is, we found a flight from Edinburgh to Milan (from where we could easily travel to Venice, as well) for 50 pounds, and a flight from Glasgow to Barcelona for 18 (18!) pounds. Obviously, Barcelona is the easy choice. But we still can't make up our feeble minds. We gave ourselves "a night" to think on it, and here it is, two days later, and still nothing has been decided. Part of the problem, I think, is that The Kid got pick-pocketed last she was in Spain and a little afraid to go back, and I, in the meantime, appear to have developed some kind of emotional attachment to this photo of cakes in Milan:
I need those cakes. On my vacation. I need those cakes.
We both conducted Facebook polls, which both came out overwhelmingly in favor of Barcelona. But I think we still need help. Tell me why I should give up on the cake of my dream and take the chance of having the ultimate tourist experience of having my pocketbook lifted and just give up and go to Barcelona. Or, if you have reasons why my campaign for excellent cake should be supported in the form of a slightly less convenient, slightly more expenive trip to Milan instead, please make them known. We need to make up our minds. Yesterday.
12.06.2010
Stupid business trips and stubborn head teachers.
Oh em gee! Tumblr's down! Apparently it's back up in some parts of the world now, but not here. We have to wait for movies. We have to wait for Tumblr. Luckily, I had a busy-as day at work today, anyhow. Because apparently no one cancels classes for finals prep anymore. Which would be fine, if they weren't all on their "we played a game last week for the second time ever in the weoneomin's class, therefore we ALWAYS play games ONLY ALL THE TIME in the weoneomin's class!" kick. The BOOK? Open the BOOK? What is this madness of which you speak, Teacher?
I know. Studying. In school. It's a cruel, cruel world boys.
Hmph. Did get one period off to chat with The Kid a bit, but was busy reorganizing a lesson plan for the B boys, because I wasn't convinced I could pull off what I had without translation, and didn't get to do much in the way of legwork for planning this vacation. Mainly just grumbled about the fact that I found out I have to go on a "teacher's training course" next week. For what, you ask? To learn how to plan camps and make PPTs. From whom, you ask? From teachers who have more than likely been here the same amount of/less time than I have. Until when, you ask? Until thirty minutes after my timeclock cuts off.
Why, yes. I am excited. How could you tell? I'm really excited that, after having completed five series of camps entirely on my own with no guidance whatsoever, I now get to go sit in a room for three hours and have people who are my juniors explain how it's done to me.
It's a good thing. It's a really good, really necessary thing. For the new teachers. For me, and all the other teachers who have been here for over a year and came in under the old sink-or-swim guard, it's an utterly condescending complete waste of time.
But whatever. I'm big on reminding myself that life is full of tradeoffs, and you suffer some things so that you can enjoy others. That's the way that the world works. Nothing is perfect. Gotta sing for your supper, and whatnot. So after getting riled up about it, I took a spin around the hallways and chatted with my brilliant students, took a long hard look at their hilarious, cute little faces, and calmed the fuck down. Because in order to teach them, I have to sometimes endure stupid ass bullshit such as a one hour presentation on how to make PowerPoints which will put me getting home approximately two hours after I normally do.
As for the rest of the day, Co and her entire homeroom class got dogged out by the head teacher for complete bullshit reasons. Two weeks ago, Chanyeol, Hyeonjin and Minseok got caught in the classroom with their shoes on. The head teacher gave them after school cleaning duty as punishment. They cleaned well, but left before the head teacher had a chance to check their work and dismiss them. Dumbass move, yes. Even dumber was what Chanyeol decided to say to the head teacher when she called to tell him that he should have done things correctly and waited for her dismissal, which was that she should have done things correctly and informed them that they were to wait for her dismissal.
Last week Chanyeol broke his leg in several places. By doing something completely stupid, I'm sure. Because of this, he has a hard time removing his shoes before entering the classroom. This morning, he asked another head teacher if he could wear his shoes in and remove them once he had sat down. The head teacher gave him permission. Just at the moment Chanyeol took his seat, the previously mentioned head teacher walked past and saw him in the classroom with his shoes on. She flipped her shit and called him a lying little bastard when he said the other head teacher had given him permission.
Now the entire class has been banned from the end of the year third graders soccer tournament, which they all look forward to for three years. And, to add insult to injury, they have to sit in class and study while everyone else is outside watching the matches. Co explained the situation to the head teacher, and confirmed that Chanyeol had been telling the truth, and a group of students from her homeroom class even went to formally apologize, but all the head teacher did was inform Co that she needs to learn to control her class and refuse to admit her mistake.
Lovely. Poor Co. Poor Co's homeroom. Lucky me, that I don't have to deal with nonsense such as bullheaded head teachers.
I know. Studying. In school. It's a cruel, cruel world boys.
Hmph. Did get one period off to chat with The Kid a bit, but was busy reorganizing a lesson plan for the B boys, because I wasn't convinced I could pull off what I had without translation, and didn't get to do much in the way of legwork for planning this vacation. Mainly just grumbled about the fact that I found out I have to go on a "teacher's training course" next week. For what, you ask? To learn how to plan camps and make PPTs. From whom, you ask? From teachers who have more than likely been here the same amount of/less time than I have. Until when, you ask? Until thirty minutes after my timeclock cuts off.
Why, yes. I am excited. How could you tell? I'm really excited that, after having completed five series of camps entirely on my own with no guidance whatsoever, I now get to go sit in a room for three hours and have people who are my juniors explain how it's done to me.
It's a good thing. It's a really good, really necessary thing. For the new teachers. For me, and all the other teachers who have been here for over a year and came in under the old sink-or-swim guard, it's an utterly condescending complete waste of time.
But whatever. I'm big on reminding myself that life is full of tradeoffs, and you suffer some things so that you can enjoy others. That's the way that the world works. Nothing is perfect. Gotta sing for your supper, and whatnot. So after getting riled up about it, I took a spin around the hallways and chatted with my brilliant students, took a long hard look at their hilarious, cute little faces, and calmed the fuck down. Because in order to teach them, I have to sometimes endure stupid ass bullshit such as a one hour presentation on how to make PowerPoints which will put me getting home approximately two hours after I normally do.
As for the rest of the day, Co and her entire homeroom class got dogged out by the head teacher for complete bullshit reasons. Two weeks ago, Chanyeol, Hyeonjin and Minseok got caught in the classroom with their shoes on. The head teacher gave them after school cleaning duty as punishment. They cleaned well, but left before the head teacher had a chance to check their work and dismiss them. Dumbass move, yes. Even dumber was what Chanyeol decided to say to the head teacher when she called to tell him that he should have done things correctly and waited for her dismissal, which was that she should have done things correctly and informed them that they were to wait for her dismissal.
Last week Chanyeol broke his leg in several places. By doing something completely stupid, I'm sure. Because of this, he has a hard time removing his shoes before entering the classroom. This morning, he asked another head teacher if he could wear his shoes in and remove them once he had sat down. The head teacher gave him permission. Just at the moment Chanyeol took his seat, the previously mentioned head teacher walked past and saw him in the classroom with his shoes on. She flipped her shit and called him a lying little bastard when he said the other head teacher had given him permission.
Now the entire class has been banned from the end of the year third graders soccer tournament, which they all look forward to for three years. And, to add insult to injury, they have to sit in class and study while everyone else is outside watching the matches. Co explained the situation to the head teacher, and confirmed that Chanyeol had been telling the truth, and a group of students from her homeroom class even went to formally apologize, but all the head teacher did was inform Co that she needs to learn to control her class and refuse to admit her mistake.
Lovely. Poor Co. Poor Co's homeroom. Lucky me, that I don't have to deal with nonsense such as bullheaded head teachers.
12.05.2010
Longing for the big V.
Hello. I'm alive. Actually, I've taken the weekend mostly off, save for a trip to Homeplus on Friday afternoon and a little jaunt into Myeongdong yesterday morning. And so, I'm no longer sick. I think. The weather has helped a bit by not being completely bitterly cold and awful. This week is the last week of "real" lessons (which will mostly be canceled, due to finals prep), so I don't think I should be having another relapse. Hopefully this will be the end of this season's Horrible Plague. Because I'm fucking busy!
Why did I go to Myeongdong during Christmas season? I don't know. Stupid. What is with the Christians there? Why Myeongdong, of all places? I was sitting in a second floor coffee shop looking out the window when I saw a man with an upside-down pot on his head and painted face get his humungous banner caught in the power lines as he was marching along disturbing the general flow of human masses. Ridiculous. You're scaring people. Jesus is not a spectacle. But you definitely are doing your best to make one of yourself.
To each his own, I suppose. I just wonder how people can get so far off the ordinary track that something like that seems like a good plan for the day, when you wake up in the morning and pry yourself out of your probably completely normal bed. It was the same with some of the behavior I witnessed out of my classmates and fellow students back at art school. My favorite time of year was vacation, when suddenly Facebook would be flooded with photos of them standing next to their completely ordinary upper middle class families, maybe off to the side a bit with screwy clown hair, soiled 19th century garb and buckets of eyeliner. Classic.
What was I talking about? Oh. Nothing really.
Well. I don't know. It's officially that time of year where vacation is so close you can almost taste it. I love Korea. I'm one of those annoying fuckers who doesn't even get the point of conversations which center around how this or that Korean culture is anymore, and usually ends up just saying something obnoxious like, "Just get used to it." But. As vacation grows closer, even we pro-Korea folk can start to go a bit funny in the head. Found myself, for instance, on the phone with my aunt late last night suggesting that perhaps if half the country's population were to be drowned in the ocean at random, then I could go about my daily objectives without spending literally hours of wasted time simply physically negotiating my path around other human beings. Be it on a bus or on a sidewalk. Not rational.
I just need some time away from this lovely fucking country. Perhaps even just this city. Some time to miss it and its horrific patches of street stench and awkward face-gawking elderly and groups of school girls walking so slowly that they very nearly literally might as well just have a seat on the sidewalk. Yesterday, in the bathroom queue at Seoul Station, a woman decided that the most logical place to stop and wait for a stall to become available was pressed directly and firmly against my back. And I didn't even budge. Just stood there, leaning against her, her forehead hitting me somewhere between the shoulder blades. Whatever. We can cuddle in line for the bathroom, ajumma, if you really will it to be so. I don't mind.
Vacation. Still got that ever-present last hurdle of camps to get through before I can relax, though, which keeps things right on edge clear up to the end. It's going to fly, though. And then I'll be updating this fucker from some tiny island off the coast of Greece on hotel wifi about how I miss kimchi or some such fucking nonsense. And all will be right in the world again.
Why did I go to Myeongdong during Christmas season? I don't know. Stupid. What is with the Christians there? Why Myeongdong, of all places? I was sitting in a second floor coffee shop looking out the window when I saw a man with an upside-down pot on his head and painted face get his humungous banner caught in the power lines as he was marching along disturbing the general flow of human masses. Ridiculous. You're scaring people. Jesus is not a spectacle. But you definitely are doing your best to make one of yourself.
To each his own, I suppose. I just wonder how people can get so far off the ordinary track that something like that seems like a good plan for the day, when you wake up in the morning and pry yourself out of your probably completely normal bed. It was the same with some of the behavior I witnessed out of my classmates and fellow students back at art school. My favorite time of year was vacation, when suddenly Facebook would be flooded with photos of them standing next to their completely ordinary upper middle class families, maybe off to the side a bit with screwy clown hair, soiled 19th century garb and buckets of eyeliner. Classic.
What was I talking about? Oh. Nothing really.
Well. I don't know. It's officially that time of year where vacation is so close you can almost taste it. I love Korea. I'm one of those annoying fuckers who doesn't even get the point of conversations which center around how this or that Korean culture is anymore, and usually ends up just saying something obnoxious like, "Just get used to it." But. As vacation grows closer, even we pro-Korea folk can start to go a bit funny in the head. Found myself, for instance, on the phone with my aunt late last night suggesting that perhaps if half the country's population were to be drowned in the ocean at random, then I could go about my daily objectives without spending literally hours of wasted time simply physically negotiating my path around other human beings. Be it on a bus or on a sidewalk. Not rational.
I just need some time away from this lovely fucking country. Perhaps even just this city. Some time to miss it and its horrific patches of street stench and awkward face-gawking elderly and groups of school girls walking so slowly that they very nearly literally might as well just have a seat on the sidewalk. Yesterday, in the bathroom queue at Seoul Station, a woman decided that the most logical place to stop and wait for a stall to become available was pressed directly and firmly against my back. And I didn't even budge. Just stood there, leaning against her, her forehead hitting me somewhere between the shoulder blades. Whatever. We can cuddle in line for the bathroom, ajumma, if you really will it to be so. I don't mind.
Vacation. Still got that ever-present last hurdle of camps to get through before I can relax, though, which keeps things right on edge clear up to the end. It's going to fly, though. And then I'll be updating this fucker from some tiny island off the coast of Greece on hotel wifi about how I miss kimchi or some such fucking nonsense. And all will be right in the world again.
12.01.2010
Dying thoughts.
Cold medicine post! Wahey!
I never take medicine. Ever. Because it does my head in far worse than any other person I've ever met. But today, I gave in to my co-teachers' nagging about it. Because they were probably right. Somehow they could tell I was running a fever just by looking at my face. One of those things I guess which just comes with being a career teacher for so long -- something about puffy eyes.
The good thing about teaching while looking like death is that you can often convince the students to behave better than any other normal time. They were angels. They never fail to astonish me with how compassionate they can be, when they see that you really need it. Real live tiny little human beings. One class got a bit rowdy and I simply pointed out that I was probably dying and this could be the last time I see them ever, and they didn't want me to have a bad final experience with them. And again, one of the surprising traits of the students that I can never get over, their utterly naive and gullible reactions to talk such as that. Something about the authority of being a teacher (someone who should not or does not make jokes) and the time lapse of translation in the head -- big, horrified eyes -- Teacher really dying?
No. Not really. At least I hope not. But it's something to think about, now isn't it? I could get hit by a bus at any moment. Do you want my dying thought to be, "And class 6 was so horrible to me today, as well! Especially Hyeongook!" No. No you do not.
Now I'm going to bed forever. Fuck everything, because I'm supposed to have quite a lovely rest of the week/weekend on, but now it's probably all ruined. Unless something miraculous happens between now and the time I wake up tomorrow morning. I ate extra kimchi at lunch, just in case all the hype turns out to be true. I really don't want to have my first hospital experience (outside of medchecks) in Korea though. So something had better improve.
I never take medicine. Ever. Because it does my head in far worse than any other person I've ever met. But today, I gave in to my co-teachers' nagging about it. Because they were probably right. Somehow they could tell I was running a fever just by looking at my face. One of those things I guess which just comes with being a career teacher for so long -- something about puffy eyes.
The good thing about teaching while looking like death is that you can often convince the students to behave better than any other normal time. They were angels. They never fail to astonish me with how compassionate they can be, when they see that you really need it. Real live tiny little human beings. One class got a bit rowdy and I simply pointed out that I was probably dying and this could be the last time I see them ever, and they didn't want me to have a bad final experience with them. And again, one of the surprising traits of the students that I can never get over, their utterly naive and gullible reactions to talk such as that. Something about the authority of being a teacher (someone who should not or does not make jokes) and the time lapse of translation in the head -- big, horrified eyes -- Teacher really dying?
No. Not really. At least I hope not. But it's something to think about, now isn't it? I could get hit by a bus at any moment. Do you want my dying thought to be, "And class 6 was so horrible to me today, as well! Especially Hyeongook!" No. No you do not.
Now I'm going to bed forever. Fuck everything, because I'm supposed to have quite a lovely rest of the week/weekend on, but now it's probably all ruined. Unless something miraculous happens between now and the time I wake up tomorrow morning. I ate extra kimchi at lunch, just in case all the hype turns out to be true. I really don't want to have my first hospital experience (outside of medchecks) in Korea though. So something had better improve.
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