Winter vacation officially ends Friday and the students are back in school for the closing ceremonies starting next Monday so today a vast majority of the teachers were back in school preparing for the next two weeks. It was also the first day I had seen another soul in the school besides the security guard. I wish somebody had warned me.
For the past two weeks because I have been alone on campus and just sitting at my desk for 8 hours, I took that as an okay for me to dress comfortably. Comfortably = sweatpants, spandex pants, t-shirts, sweatshirts, pretty much anything that could be considered gym attire. Today I assumed that once again I would be alone in my office, surfing the web, watching Korean dramas, Facebook chatting anybody possible and doing other mindless tasks to help pass the time, so I wore what I would later wear to the gym, black spandex pants and a black under armor long sleeve. Both of which look as if the are PAINTED on my body.
I get to school and begin my routine of web surfing and nonsense when there is a knock at my office door. In walks in one of my coworkers, Mr. Nice Guy. I was very surprised to see him but grateful that I had somebody to chit chat with for a while to help pass the time. He informed me that today the teachers and Principals would be eating lunch together and I was to join. I did not think anything of it at the time and when noon came around, I joined the staff in the short walk to the restaurant.
I arrive at the place first with Mr. Nice Guy. He is the sole coworker who was confident enough in his English to speak to me, let alone sit with me. We take a seat (on the floor) in the middle of 1 of 3 tables. As the rest of the other teachers file in they all sit eventually leaving us alone at our table. I wasn't surprised or offended, being stuck sitting next to me probably sucks as much as it does when I am stuck seated between people who do not speak English. Last to walk in was the Principal, Vice Principal and two other male staff members. They all took seats at my table.
The restaurant has the floor heating on so I quickly get to the point where my coat was making me uncomfortably warm. I get up, take off my coat and hang it on the coat rack. As I am making my way back to my seat I then realize what I was wearing but it was too late, I could feel the eyes on me. If my coworkers didn't know I was blessed with a chest and plenty of butt, they do now. I sat down and attempted to avoid making eye contact with the men at my table, hoping that nobody would say anything. Of course that didn't happen.
Mr. Nice Guy: "You go to the gym?"
Me: "Yes, everyday"
*he translates to everybody else*
MaleS (in unison) : "AHHHHHHH"
I sit there with the worst posture I could manage, my shoulders are thrown as far forward as they could possible go in an attempt to push my boobs back. Until till today, my school attire has always been body minimizing. Of course I can't hide all of what I got, but I have been able to tone it down quite a bit. The food arrives and the men go around teaching me the names of the different side dishes and what I should eat what with ( they made a sincere effort to include me in the conversation the entire meal). The main dish is a beef soup. Everybody begins to eat.
All staff members: "SLURP, SLURP, SLURPPPPPP."
Me:
Slurping is a common practice in Korea. I have heard it enhances the flavor of soups. I have also heard when people slurp it means what they are eating is delicious. I do not slurp. I wasn't allowed to slurp growing up, I was raised on very strict Western table manners. No slurping, no chewing with my mouth open, no smacking, no slouching. You name it, my Mom enforced it. My first few months in Korea were especially hard when I ate out. I was irked by the mannerism, it was something I wasn't used to. Now I am not bothered at all. I am used to the slurping and smacking, they no longer bother me, I just continue on eating in silence. Today my silence drew unwanted attention my way.
Principal: "You don't like?"
Me: "I love it, it is very good."
I continue to eat, quietly.
Mr. Nice Guy: "Do you want something different?"
Me: "No I like this."
I continue to eat and realize that they are all watching me with worried looks on their faces. The soup really was good and I did really like it, but I don't think they believed me. The looks were making me uncomfortable. The normal conversation came to a halt, I was being eyed from every corner and I was getting nervous. Remembering all of the things I learned about slurping told me to do it. But I wasn't sure how, I was afraid I'd slurp too hard and choke or slurp too softly and have it dribble down my chin. Eventually the silence and the looks got under my skin so tried to slurp. My first attempt did nothing, I didn't even make a noise. So I tried again this time sucking a bit harder.
It was quiet but I had did it, I slurped.
I only did it to see if it would make them stop worrying about me and it did. Once I did it, they seemed to relax, so I did it again and again, eventually perfecting my slurp. Soon after they stopped the looks and the normal conversation picked up. Slurping, didn't enhance the flavor of my soup but it did apparently communicate that my soup was delicious.
Towards the end of the meal the men started to speak about me in Korean. I knew they were talking about me because I could pick out a few words they were saying and they were openly looking at me as they spoke. I sat there waiting for the translation, hoping there would be one. Finally there was a break in the conversation and I was served a very nice compliment.
Mr. Nice Guy: "We think you will find a husband very very quickly. You have wonderful face, you good teacher, very very kind and good S-line(S-Line means I am curvy). Remember, Korean men are good men so find Korean man. Please invite us to your wedding party."
I was a tad uncomfortable hearing from my bosses that I had a nice body but I was extremely flattered they felt me good enough to find and marry a good Korean man and taint the "pure" Korean society.
#CHEERS2SLURPINGANDTAINTING
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
Surviving Winter Camp Week 1.
January 7th
I woke up excited. Today was the first day of my first Winter Camp and I was going to be able to work with the 2nd grade students, who are a group of children I hadn't had the opportunity to work with before. 2nd graders have always been described to me as adorable, fun and easy to work with. I had planned a very active and hands on winter camp for my students so I was expecting this to be an enjoyable week long walk in the park. But instead today marked the beginning of a week long walk through hell.
I had arrived at school early to set up my classroom. Today we were going to introduce ourselves, create little posters about our favorite things and learn some new emotion words. ( I am on a crusade against the response "I'm fine thank you" that EVERY SINGLE student in ALL OF SOUTH KOREA responds with when asked how they are doing). I had Mr. Bean clip to show, 5 different games for the kids to play and a arts and crafts project planned.
I sat in the classroom going over the materials for the day when I heard a rumble. It was a ways away so I ignored it at first thinking that some unfortunate teacher got stuck teaching the animal-like 6th graders over the winter. But the rumbling got louder and louder and louder until finally my classroom door swung open as if it were bashed in by the SWAT team. Tumbling over one another were a group of boys screaming and shouting back and forth in Korean. They all loitered at the back of the class, some wrestling, some hitting, some watching but they had one thing in common, they ALL were shouting. I sat there waiting for them to notice me sitting at the desk thinking that it would make them quiet down. I gave up after the chatter didn't die down and rang my bell. Nothing. Rang it again. Nothing. Once more. Nothing. It was like they were immune to it's sound. My other classes responded to my bell like well bred dogs, if I rang the bell they knew to shut up. Finally I stood up and yelled SIT DOWN!!!!
They didn't stop.
It took me physically placing myself in the center of their mayhem to get them to cut it out. To get them to sit down was another 5 minutes of me having to guide them to the chairs by their shoulders. The rest of the period with them 0 learning was done. I spent the majority of my time in failed attempts in trying to discipline the boys who were throwing anything they could get their hands on, tormenting each other and the girls, screaming, refusing to do work and anything else they are expected NOT to do in a classroom. By the time the day was over I was beat and at a loss.
January 8th
Day 2 was worse than day one. I had planned on briefly teaching the students the phases "You should" and "You should not" followed by games and an arts and crafts project. None of that happened. 10 minutes in to my 80 minute period with them one of the girls slapped a boy. The boy was sitting behind the girl and was tormenting her, pulling her hair, throwing papers, ext.. I was one more disruption before I was going to move his seat but apparently the girl I didn't believe I was acting quick enough. Midway through a demonstration I was giving the girl turned around and slapped the boy. I was stunned. This was a grown woman "I just found out you were cheating on me" or "you grabbed my behind in the club," slap. She slapped him full palm to the face with follow through, his head snapped back and he let out a cry of pain. For the first time the entire class was silent and then as if they were all on cue, all eyes then turned to me. My first thought was to pretend I didn't see it but the students caught me staring right at the situation. To top it off the boy began to cry. I didn't know what to do, the boy deserved it. If he were my child I would have told him "suck it up, that's what you get." But he wasn't my child and I had to be a "teacher." I looked at the girl and pointed to my office. Her and I both walked so slow we could have been walking backwards. I was trying to figure out what to do, I didn't want to punish her, if it were me (and I were 8 years old) I would have slapped him too. If she were my daughter, I would have bought her ice cream. She was walking as if I was taking her to the guillotine, her eyes were welling up with tears, the girls all grabbing her hands as if it were the last time they were going to see her alive. The boys were laughing and chanting "TROUBLE, TROUBLE, TROUBLE." We finally made it to my office. I closed the door, handed her a tissue and said "Pleaseeeee don't cry." She wiped her eyes and looked up at me, waiting for a punishment.... and then I said, "it's okay."
I know, I won't be winning any teacher of the year awards.
January 9th&10th
By the middle of the week I was exhausted. I couldn't handle another day like the 2 before so I enlisted some help. My favorite 5th grader is the class bully. She is one of the smallest girls in the class but she packs more spunk than any other student. I asked her to come to my winter camp, translate a few threats for me and hang around to help me for a bit. Before we started the activities for the day we went over a few rules and punishments. I am 100 percent sure what she translated to the kids was A LOT more harsh and vulgar than what I originally. The 2nd graders kept gasping and looked terrified. Did I ask her what she said? No. Did I care? No. They finally were in line and when they even toed slightly out of line she would say something to them that would get them back on track. Unfortunately she was only available those two days. But those two days were very much appreciated and went smoothly.
January 11th
I knew I had to come up with a game plan if I were going to survive my last and final day with the devil's spawn alone. Mr. Bean it was. If you have never heard of Mr. Bean and you are a teacher, thank me now. Mr. Bean never fails to captivate students. They find him absolutely hilarious and he is a guaranteed 40 minutes of entertainment for students of all ages. After Mr. Bean all I had was 40 minutes until I was free from this torture. I couldn't lose to 2nd graders, I'm better than that. So I devised the perfect plan. A word search. I told the kids this was a competition and the student who completed the word search the fastest would get a chocolate. They all got right to it, racing to complete the puzzle faster than the next, shielding their puzzles from the person next to them. But this was not just ANY word search. This was a word search that couldn't be solved. In the list of words that the students had to find, there was a word I didn't put in the puzzle. Judge me, I don't care. I HAD WON. The students spent the entire 40 minutes searching forwards, backwards, up and down trying to solve this puzzle. They even started making bargains to help each other and split the chocolate. I just sat back, sipped my coffee and waited. 20 minutes to freedom. 10 minutes to freedom. 5 minutes to freedom. By this time the students were begging for my help. "TEE-CHA PUUUUUH-LEEEEEZE, pleeeeezeee, pleeeeeze." 3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute. When I finally announced that time was up you would have thought the world was ending. They all begged for more time, unwilling to accept defeat. But that was it. I was finally finished. I had survived hell week.
#CHEERS2BULLYINGCHILDREN
I woke up excited. Today was the first day of my first Winter Camp and I was going to be able to work with the 2nd grade students, who are a group of children I hadn't had the opportunity to work with before. 2nd graders have always been described to me as adorable, fun and easy to work with. I had planned a very active and hands on winter camp for my students so I was expecting this to be an enjoyable week long walk in the park. But instead today marked the beginning of a week long walk through hell.
I had arrived at school early to set up my classroom. Today we were going to introduce ourselves, create little posters about our favorite things and learn some new emotion words. ( I am on a crusade against the response "I'm fine thank you" that EVERY SINGLE student in ALL OF SOUTH KOREA responds with when asked how they are doing). I had Mr. Bean clip to show, 5 different games for the kids to play and a arts and crafts project planned.
I sat in the classroom going over the materials for the day when I heard a rumble. It was a ways away so I ignored it at first thinking that some unfortunate teacher got stuck teaching the animal-like 6th graders over the winter. But the rumbling got louder and louder and louder until finally my classroom door swung open as if it were bashed in by the SWAT team. Tumbling over one another were a group of boys screaming and shouting back and forth in Korean. They all loitered at the back of the class, some wrestling, some hitting, some watching but they had one thing in common, they ALL were shouting. I sat there waiting for them to notice me sitting at the desk thinking that it would make them quiet down. I gave up after the chatter didn't die down and rang my bell. Nothing. Rang it again. Nothing. Once more. Nothing. It was like they were immune to it's sound. My other classes responded to my bell like well bred dogs, if I rang the bell they knew to shut up. Finally I stood up and yelled SIT DOWN!!!!
They didn't stop.
It took me physically placing myself in the center of their mayhem to get them to cut it out. To get them to sit down was another 5 minutes of me having to guide them to the chairs by their shoulders. The rest of the period with them 0 learning was done. I spent the majority of my time in failed attempts in trying to discipline the boys who were throwing anything they could get their hands on, tormenting each other and the girls, screaming, refusing to do work and anything else they are expected NOT to do in a classroom. By the time the day was over I was beat and at a loss.
January 8th
Day 2 was worse than day one. I had planned on briefly teaching the students the phases "You should" and "You should not" followed by games and an arts and crafts project. None of that happened. 10 minutes in to my 80 minute period with them one of the girls slapped a boy. The boy was sitting behind the girl and was tormenting her, pulling her hair, throwing papers, ext.. I was one more disruption before I was going to move his seat but apparently the girl I didn't believe I was acting quick enough. Midway through a demonstration I was giving the girl turned around and slapped the boy. I was stunned. This was a grown woman "I just found out you were cheating on me" or "you grabbed my behind in the club," slap. She slapped him full palm to the face with follow through, his head snapped back and he let out a cry of pain. For the first time the entire class was silent and then as if they were all on cue, all eyes then turned to me. My first thought was to pretend I didn't see it but the students caught me staring right at the situation. To top it off the boy began to cry. I didn't know what to do, the boy deserved it. If he were my child I would have told him "suck it up, that's what you get." But he wasn't my child and I had to be a "teacher." I looked at the girl and pointed to my office. Her and I both walked so slow we could have been walking backwards. I was trying to figure out what to do, I didn't want to punish her, if it were me (and I were 8 years old) I would have slapped him too. If she were my daughter, I would have bought her ice cream. She was walking as if I was taking her to the guillotine, her eyes were welling up with tears, the girls all grabbing her hands as if it were the last time they were going to see her alive. The boys were laughing and chanting "TROUBLE, TROUBLE, TROUBLE." We finally made it to my office. I closed the door, handed her a tissue and said "Pleaseeeee don't cry." She wiped her eyes and looked up at me, waiting for a punishment.... and then I said, "it's okay."
I know, I won't be winning any teacher of the year awards.
January 9th&10th
By the middle of the week I was exhausted. I couldn't handle another day like the 2 before so I enlisted some help. My favorite 5th grader is the class bully. She is one of the smallest girls in the class but she packs more spunk than any other student. I asked her to come to my winter camp, translate a few threats for me and hang around to help me for a bit. Before we started the activities for the day we went over a few rules and punishments. I am 100 percent sure what she translated to the kids was A LOT more harsh and vulgar than what I originally. The 2nd graders kept gasping and looked terrified. Did I ask her what she said? No. Did I care? No. They finally were in line and when they even toed slightly out of line she would say something to them that would get them back on track. Unfortunately she was only available those two days. But those two days were very much appreciated and went smoothly.
January 11th
I knew I had to come up with a game plan if I were going to survive my last and final day with the devil's spawn alone. Mr. Bean it was. If you have never heard of Mr. Bean and you are a teacher, thank me now. Mr. Bean never fails to captivate students. They find him absolutely hilarious and he is a guaranteed 40 minutes of entertainment for students of all ages. After Mr. Bean all I had was 40 minutes until I was free from this torture. I couldn't lose to 2nd graders, I'm better than that. So I devised the perfect plan. A word search. I told the kids this was a competition and the student who completed the word search the fastest would get a chocolate. They all got right to it, racing to complete the puzzle faster than the next, shielding their puzzles from the person next to them. But this was not just ANY word search. This was a word search that couldn't be solved. In the list of words that the students had to find, there was a word I didn't put in the puzzle. Judge me, I don't care. I HAD WON. The students spent the entire 40 minutes searching forwards, backwards, up and down trying to solve this puzzle. They even started making bargains to help each other and split the chocolate. I just sat back, sipped my coffee and waited. 20 minutes to freedom. 10 minutes to freedom. 5 minutes to freedom. By this time the students were begging for my help. "TEE-CHA PUUUUUH-LEEEEEZE, pleeeeezeee, pleeeeeze." 3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute. When I finally announced that time was up you would have thought the world was ending. They all begged for more time, unwilling to accept defeat. But that was it. I was finally finished. I had survived hell week.
#CHEERS2BULLYINGCHILDREN
Monday, January 7, 2013
What my parents have done to me.
As most people do or did, at one point in my life I honestly believed that my parents were both off their rockers. I can't say that this belief is completely in the past but as I have grown older I have come to realize that maybe they aren't. Unfortunately, I didn't come to this realization in a mature "I am older and understand why they are the way they are" way, my opinion has changed for one reason and one reason only, I am just like them.
My Dad is Mr. Know It ALL. He can not be wrong (or so he thinks). He has this saying that he is constantly telling my siblings and I, "I've forgot more than you know." REALLY Dad, you have forgotten 23 years of knowledge but yet you STILL know it all? It is even worse when he uses that line against my older siblings who hover around 40 years old.
So, to sum up my Dad,
Dad - 40 years of knowledge = still knowing it all.
And then my Mom. She is all about catch phrases. She ALWAYS pairs a proverb or a saying with ANY lecture or point she is trying to prove. A few examples: "Comprende?" "Do as I say, not as I do." and "All that glitters is not gold." (I could go on for pages) How weird is it that my Mom has a saying for EVERYTHING? I always wondered if she would read a book of proverbs before bed every night because this woman has never run out of material and has raised children who are TWICE my age. No matter what situation I was in, what I was getting lectured on or being given advice about there was a catch phrase included.
So, to sum up my mom,
Mom = proverbs x ∞ (infinity)
And like any normal child, I swore up and down I would NEVER be like my parents. I would not think I knew all there is to know and I would not makes points using quotes that date back to Little House on the Prairie days.
And then I grew up and became exactly like them.
All it took was one sentence for me to realize,
"You lie in the bed you make, you should have listened to me, I'm always right."
As soon as those words left the tip of my tongue it dawned on me, I am the perfect blend of my parents. All the years of of swearing off their ways were gone. I have always been able to see the similarities between my friends and their parents and I thought I had escaped it. I thought I was the one who broke the chain of inheritance, the one who was DIFFERENT.
But I guess my Mom is right, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
#CHEERS2BEINGACHEERS
I love my parents and would be lost with out them...and their ways.
My Dad is Mr. Know It ALL. He can not be wrong (or so he thinks). He has this saying that he is constantly telling my siblings and I, "I've forgot more than you know." REALLY Dad, you have forgotten 23 years of knowledge but yet you STILL know it all? It is even worse when he uses that line against my older siblings who hover around 40 years old.
So, to sum up my Dad,
Dad - 40 years of knowledge = still knowing it all.
And then my Mom. She is all about catch phrases. She ALWAYS pairs a proverb or a saying with ANY lecture or point she is trying to prove. A few examples: "Comprende?" "Do as I say, not as I do." and "All that glitters is not gold." (I could go on for pages) How weird is it that my Mom has a saying for EVERYTHING? I always wondered if she would read a book of proverbs before bed every night because this woman has never run out of material and has raised children who are TWICE my age. No matter what situation I was in, what I was getting lectured on or being given advice about there was a catch phrase included.
So, to sum up my mom,
Mom = proverbs x ∞ (infinity)
And like any normal child, I swore up and down I would NEVER be like my parents. I would not think I knew all there is to know and I would not makes points using quotes that date back to Little House on the Prairie days.
And then I grew up and became exactly like them.
All it took was one sentence for me to realize,
"You lie in the bed you make, you should have listened to me, I'm always right."
As soon as those words left the tip of my tongue it dawned on me, I am the perfect blend of my parents. All the years of of swearing off their ways were gone. I have always been able to see the similarities between my friends and their parents and I thought I had escaped it. I thought I was the one who broke the chain of inheritance, the one who was DIFFERENT.
But I guess my Mom is right, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
#CHEERS2BEINGACHEERS
I love my parents and would be lost with out them...and their ways.
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