I love this place. I love these people I’ve met. Is love too strong of a word; too soon? I don’t think so. But, maybe that’s just it. I usually, always, indefinitely jump into things without thinking ahead – “Yeah! Why not!?” – but they tell me that life is short, and we only get one chance, so we have to make the time worth it while we have it. I’m in Korea… you’d think that being surrounding by a place would help you in realizing where you are, but it doesn’t. I don’t know if this is just a phase, or if my whole year will be filled with open-mouthed awe. Which, well, yeah, I want it to be.
We’re all in the same boat, (so, rock that boat, baby, just don’t tip that boat over) and I dig that. All these people here – well, foreigners, in speaking – have come for mostly the same reasons. The number one reason seeming to be to become better acquainted with oneself and the world we occupy. The number two reason being a need for change and, well, let’s be honest, work with the dollars is a big pull, too. I mean, I relish in the idea that we’re do-ers here – y’know, less talk, more action. How long had I been thinking and talking about taking on an opportunity like this, to work and see the world? At least since college graduation, but most definitely before that, as well. “We cannot become what we need to be by remaining what we are.” I needed a challenge, and boy!, in coming here, I sure am getting one! Every day, stepping out my front door, siren whirring behind me as my robot lock secures the few belongings I have in this strange place, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the unexpected. Every day is an adventure, I needed that, I wanted that for so long. I wished, and it finally came true… in Korea. Maybe I’m just listing my reasons – yes, I am – but I’ve found a lot of similar characters, and maybe that – in addition to the whole stranger in a strange land, “Oh! You’re just like me!” – is why the friends pile up after only an introduction. As my favorite Kurt Vonnegut (well, told to him by his son) quote goes, “We are here to help each other through this thing, whatever it is” – we want to help; help kids learn the English language, help ourselves, help each other, (moment of cheese) help.the.world! And yeah, it’s not for free, but there are loans that need repaid and savings accounts that need replenishing. We all have to start somewhere, right?
Speaking of the helping, “help you, help me.” I can’t tell you how long I stood in front of my elementary students (two of them) on the first day saying this. “Help you, help me.” Gestures and all. Slowing down, speeding up. Changing the inflections and volume. I probably scared the crap out of them, but I was scared too. Two little Korean children, Ellen (oh my god! it was so mortifying to realize her name was “Ellen” because “Alan” was written on her bag in permanent marker, and I thought, huh, that’s weird for a girl to be named ‘Alan,’ but this is Korea, and there is a kindergartner named ‘Winner,’ so, sure, I’ll take it. Only to find halfway through the class that Alan was scratched out and Ellen was written underneath… in pencil.) and David sat before me, mute as mimes. Apparently they are the two shyest kids, ever. Koreans are shy when it comes to foreigners, they giggle out of insecurity and fear of doing or saying the wrong thing. Whereas, when it comes to Americans dealing with foreigners, we just get louder and use bigger gestures, thinking “Idiots! Coming to my country, not speaking my language!” Well, I’m trying, but hangul is really difficult, and I’m all like – what, no F sound? What do you mean these characters represent sounds and not actual letters… isn’t that like our alphabet, too? I’m confused! But I can count to three(!) without being corrected now! Yay! Ahhhh, I digress. Ellen and David. Good kids, really they are. And I totally get that they’re tired when I see them, I mean, they’ve already had a long day at their normal (Korean) school. In the books I’ve read, it says that sometimes mothers pack their children lunch and dinner because they’ll have such a long school day. Ayeyiyi. I mean, M, W, F we get done at 6:55p. Insane. So, yes, Ellen and David not only are shy and scared, but they’re tired, too. It’s so hard, because they’re really smart kids and I can see that, I mean the English language isn’t easy and they’re only freaking eight year’s old and they’re already having the world thrust upon their shoulders by their parents and their other teachers, and then here I come, this loud-mouthed American talking 1,000,000 miles a minute at them, being thrown into this deep, foreign pool with school books as floatable devices all around me, but only discovering them as I start sinking to the bottom – ah, the “curriculum,” don’t even get me started! Again, I digress. Because where I was really going with all this, but wanted to give you a little bit of background information, as convoluted as it all was/is… (AH!) is what happened on Friday… maybe it was just Friday and he was tired, but David came in, late, and sad. His shoulders were stooped more than usual and I didn’t get a return smile when I said, “Hello, David, thanks for dropping in!” He shuffled to his seat and sat. “Alright, we’re doing vocabulary right now, so could you please write each word three times and then we’ll move on to Treasures,” (I hate this book, though I feel we made good progress Friday, as we actually were able to compare and contrast ‘Little Rabbit’ to ‘Henny Penny’ – I could’ve cried I was so happy to have a group dialogue going. And sure, there was a lot of prompting on my part, but there was discussion!!!) I said as I unzipped his bag for him and put his notebook in front of him. Blah, blah, blah. We go through class, have one break, a little more class, a lot more sass from David, one more break, and in coming back from that there was more sass and shoes not being on his feet and so I said, “David, you put your shoes on now, or go into the hall.” (it’s official, I am my mother – an educator. BAH!) He didn’t do it. There was a feigned attempt, a whimpered, “teacher” but no real progress. So, I gave the three other students instructions on the page – to cut out this weird “noun, pronoun, verb” fortune teller thingamabob – and said, “David. Come out in the hall. Right.now.” He was upset, but I had to stick to my guns and figure out what was going on. “You’re not in trouble, but I do need to talk to you. Please.” Miserably, he made his way into the hall. I gave him a drink (of water, I don’t think Koreans start with alcohol that early, because when I asked Jason if he celebrated his 10th birthday with shots of soju, he laughed and said, “No, no.”) and said, “Calm down, first.” “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” and he said he didn’t understand, and I said, “What don’t you understand?” and he said, “Teacher.” And so I probably started talking louder and using bigger gestures and Korenglish saying, “David is smart. So smart. Teacher knows David is good.” And I don’t know, I think I blacked out because I was like, “Whaaa? You’re my best student, always finishing your work and reading well.” Sigh. It’s a day by day thing, and every day I learn to do something differently. It’s like that Rod Stewart with The Faces song, “I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger” like, yesterday. And I told him that he needed to tell me what he didn’t understand, because otherwise I won’t know, and I tapped the side of his head and said, “Teacher can’t read David’s mind. David needs to tell Teacher,” and he shrugged his shoulders, and I sighed and said, “Alright, go back to class.”
In the whole being affectionate to kids thing – like when little Alex hugs my hand – I guess I need to be more reciprocal. The director and staff really encourage us to hug and kiss the students back – like I mentioned before, Koreans are an affectionate people – and I think it’s because as children they have the weight of the world thrust down upon them as if they were adults, so the reinforcement of positive touch and praise is like hanging on to one last bit of childhood? I don’t know, I don’t understand, but I’m learning, and as I do, it’s not always pretty the things I hear and witness, like stories of violent parents, but I do it with a smile, however forced it may be, these little people are children, no matter how adult-like they seem, and I want them to be carefree. So, I play Lion and I put up with the coughs and sneezes in my face as I’m helping them form the letter Q or put together a sentence about roller-blades and best friends, and I laugh with them and indulge them in their excited stories and I give them longer breaks in the play room when I’m frustrated, even though the elementary kids aren’t supposed to be in there – they’re kids.
So, yeah. I’m learning as I go, about them, about me, and my patience is growing, too. It’s only been three weeks, and I’ve got 49 to go J
-- and about the title of the post, the blue skies are literally here, apparently Korea is known for their clear, beautiful skies in autumn... something us Westerners take for granted 365, and also was from a Noah and the Whale song from Friday's All Songs Considered podcast... I'll get a link on Monday, as it's Saturday and I'm stealing internet from someone (a shoddy connection to say the least). Thirty minutes later... here's the link, at Jennie's, she has the interweb and shared! Peace!
In the play room.
ERIIIIIC!!! (just learned that he's turning 5 KOREAN AGE on Friday, which means that he is 3 right now and will be 4 - what!?!?!? Just a little baby boy!! They all are, except Roy who seems very big for a 4 year old... suspiciously so.)
Danny boy ate five songpyeons... one in the right hand, one in the left, and three in the mouth? :)
Roy's new, too!
New student, Arthur, is absolutely adorable!
Olivia loves the songpyeon!
Amy Teacher (part of the Korean staff - organizes curriculum for us and teaches one on one some afternoons with older kids) showing the kids how to roll the dough.
