All grown up..

6th graders in Korea are about 13 years old. From the start of the semester to now, I have watched my students grow out of their sweet adorable phase and officially enter the beginnings of being teenagers. I now catch my boys, who once loved me in a platonic fashion, talking to me while staring at two things that are not my eyes. Their compliments, which were once precious and innocent, now come in a flirtatious manner. No longer can I lean over their desks to help them with their work, and  I must now limit all and any body contact to high fives at the VERY MOST.

I didn't see it coming, everybody warned me, but I had this hope that they would stay innocent and adorable forever. I was in denial for a while, my coteacher would tell me how he can see the difference, but me.. no I didn't see it, in my eyes they still were my little ones. But it all changed in one day, with one incident.

I had handed out a worksheet to the class and my students were completing them at their desks. The worksheet I handed out had a few areas that I knew some of the students would need help with, so while giving the instructions I told the class if they needed help with anything they were to come to me at my desk. The students came up and one by one I helped them out. One of my boys came up and I began to explain what he was supposed to do. I went through the same explanation that I used with the other students to help clarify.As I was giving the explanation, I felt like he was looking at me, but not focusing on what I was saying. 

Me: "Do you understand?"

Him: .......

Me: "Do you understand?"

Him: "oh, no teacher."

I  noticed that while he was looking at me, he wasn't looking me in the eye but I couldn't figure out WHAT he was looking at. I checked my face in the computer's reflection thinking maybe I had something on it, nope. I looked back at him and he was still staring elsewhere, so I followed his gaze, which went straight down my straight down my shirt. This isn't the first time I had encountered this problem from men, but this was my student. My innocent, sweet, adorable student, not some adult pig thinking with the wrong head.

I clapped my hands in front of his face and tore him from whatever inappropriate thoughts that were going on in his mind. He immediately turned beet red, mumbled sorry and scurried back to his desk. I was just as embarrassed as he and put on a sweater even though it was 85 degrees (29C) and humid. And that is how I taught my next 5 classes, despite my boiling innards and being drenched with sweat.

This opened my eyes, I now see my boys in a different light. While I still love them and enjoy teaching them, they no longer are adorable or sweet. They now have joined ranks with the other teenage boys (and many grown men) and are predators with a one track mind.

#CHEERSTOTURTLENECKSANDTOPBUTTONS

my Korean anniversary

September 1st will be mine and Korea's anniversary. And even though I had planned on only being here for a year, when the end of winter came and the arrival of warm weather, vacation and blue skies arrived, I entered a stage of happiness and re-signed for another year. I now will be under contract until September 1, 2014. (Come winter, I, with out a doubt, will regret this decision)

Coming to Korea was an escape from having to face real life. I consider this a pause, a vacation, a break on the inevitable time where I will have to begin to establish myself in a career, pay grown people taxes, own adult things like houses and cars, give up spending Friday nights in the club and Saturdays attempting to detox before spending Saturday night at the bar. Possibly participating in an adult relationship with long-term commitment, putting  somebody other than myself first and giving up spending Sundays unshowered, looking like chewbacca, in my underwear, eating ice cream from the carton, while immersing myself in the cheesiest of romance novels or trashiest of television shows.

Teaching in Korea minus the hours that I sat and thoroughly warmed my computer chair as I flipped through mindless websites with nothing to do but try to pass time without offing myself, I have loved. (In Korea we have 20 vacation days to use in our first year, the school has about 40 vacation days, so those extra 20 days we are required to come in to work, despite NOBODY else being around and "desk warm." ) My co-workers and school have both been nothing but great to me. And because I have a zero crap tolerance, my students who started out as insubordinate creatures, have now become well behaved teacher's pets. I couldn't have asked for a better situation.

Life in Korea itself ..... has been interesting. Here every time I walk the streets, enter a room, get on a bus or subway EVERY SINGLE eye that isn't a foreigner is on me as if I were Hitler, Jesus or Tupac returned from the dead. Unfortunately it isn't because I am outstandingly good-looking or endowed with the body of a goddess, it's because I stand out in every single way possible, my appearance, nationality, ethnicity, height, size and language I speak. Despite me being here for a year, people are still surprised that I can eat with chopsticks, like Kimchi, and can eat "spicy" food (to a person coming from a minute north of Mexico, there is nothing spicy about Korean food). When I read something in Hangul, despite it being the easiest alphabet to learn in the world, I receive a bigger reaction than the death of Michael Jackson. And because I am a westerner, which is also defined as a fast, easy and slut here, I have been petitioned for more sex than 6 prostitutes could handle in a lifetime.

But despite the annoyances that any foreigner living in a different country would encounter, life here has also been amazing. I have met people from all over the world and now have acquaintances that span the globe. Next year when my time comes, I will be leaving with a small amount but wonderful lifetime friends. I have been exposed to the orgasmic flavors of Korean food. I have been able to experience a city with public transportation that puts the rest of the world to shame, a city where being hung over is not just accepted, it is expected. A place where floors heat, where there is quick, cheap and delicious front door delivery service for ANY Korean food you could want. A land of self-service bars, alcohol that cost less than water and "service." (service is what Koreans call free gifts that you receive at stores and restaurants for shopping there, ranges from accessories, side dishes, discounts, extra amounts of whatever you buy ext..) I have a job that allows me to not only travel the world and spend money on whatever my heart desires but also to save for what my dad calls "a rainy day." And on top of all of this, I am able to work on my master degree while maintaining my social life.

While I am more homesick than a pregnant woman in the morning, I have high hopes for the next year. I will be adding more stamps to my passport, finishing a large chunk of my degree, setting myself up for a grown up job in America, gaining more weight by feeding all of my cravings with no guilt, hopefully saving enough for a "rainy year" and preparing myself for that unfortunate thing called adulthood.

#CHEERS2MAKINGITTHISFAR

What I miss most about home....

1- Grocery Shopping
   -I miss going to the grocery store and shopping with ease. Being able to quickly navigate through isles and pick up exactly what I want and need with out having to consult my dear friend Google Translate every 4 seconds. I miss being able to QUICKLY read signs to find the best deals. I miss produce being CHEAP. The days when I could buy a watermelon with the extra change in my car. The days when apples didn't cost nearly $1.50 EACH. Gone are the days when I could quickly swing by the grocery store and pick up items for my weekly meal prep. I now have to plan a block in my day to grocery shop because it has become an hour and a half scavenger hunt.

2-Sarcasm
  -Just doesn't translate. I miss not feeling like a complete a** every time I am sarcastic.

3-Shoe Shopping
  -My shoe fetish has been tamed here in Korea. I am more likely to see the Lockness Monster walking down the street on a leash than I am to find a pair of shoes in my size here. I am an average Western size 8.5 (American size) but when I walk into a store and ask if they carry that size you would have thought I asked for the original copy of the Declaration of Independence gift wrapped in sheets of gold. The employees look at me as if they were saying "WHY would we carry that MONSTROUS size? and WHAT kind of beast wears it?"

4-Mexican Food
  -There is NO real Mexican food in Korea. At 5 am when I am waiting for the first train to start running, there in NOTHING more in the world that I desire more than a California Burrito. Nothing satisfies an alcohol induced body like a 2,000 calorie burrito that is OOZING with cheese, sour cream, guacamole, french fries and carne asade, especially after you DROWN it in red salsa and lime juice. I dream of the day I am able to stumble into Roberto's on 3rd and molest a burrito in the most unladylike manner surrounded by my dearest friends laughing at the mayhem we caused that night.

5-Sports
  -Don't take this the wrong way, sports in Korea (especially baseball) are great. But I miss turning on ESPN after work, watching AND understanding the highlights. I miss the days when sports aired in the evening so after a long day I could glue myself to the couch (with said Mexican food ^) and watch whatever game that was on. Unlike now, watching sports either requires me to stay up all night long or wake up at some ungodly hour (4 am), to go to an over crowded, over priced bar and sit (if I am lucky enough to find a seat) among loud, annoying and drunk fans. And the days that I am one of those loud, annoying  and drunk fans, I miss, as mentioned previously, Mexican food.

6- Communication
  -This is a broad topic. I miss speaking fast. I miss walking into a store or restaurant and not having to worry about comprehension issues. I miss the independence speaking the home language allows you. If my sink were to break at home I'd have no issue in calling a plumber (my dad) but here in Korea, I called for a plumber and  an electrician showed up. I miss ordering delivery on my own and having EXACTLY what I want be exactly what I receive instead of it being a surprise each time. I never know what I am going to get, I may think I ordered chicken but might just receive 3 pizzas and a cola. I miss understanding everything that is going on around me and not going through my everyday life as if I were playing charades, having to communicate with hand gestures and body movements.

and  last but definitely not least......


7-Clevage
  -I miss cleavage not being considered the work of the devil. When having a bit of cleavage didn't automatically place you in the "she's fast, cheap and gets around" category. When using cleavage to your advantage was something universal to most (those with it) women, widely accepted by all women and beneficial in so many ways.  But I ESPECIALLY miss when having cleavage was just something awesome.

#CHEERS2HOME

PS: Korea is amazing and I love living here otherwise.

Photos: Sports Day and My Sweet, Sweet Children

This week my school, as well as many other schools in Korea, held Sports Day. Put simply, Sports Day is an entire day devoted to a mass competitive P.E class. The students get together and they compete in different physical events. The groups who win the most events receive a small prize. This year was my first Sports Day and I had an amazing time. Luckily,  I didn't have a designated job like the other teachers so I  was able to circulate among my students, watch them compete, cheer them on and take as many photos as I could.

Photos of a few of the events

6th and 5th Grade students

3 leg race

Ball carry race

Pig Hop Wrestling (Last man standing = winner)

When the teacher blew the whistle the students had to rotate clockwise with out letting the sticks fall to the ground.

The students had to pass the balls backwards one by one and put them in a basket at the finish line.

Jumping Rope. Team with the most consecutive jumps wins.

Capture the flag. Students had to take the flags off their opponents backs, last team standing wins.

Shoe throw. Students took turns kicking off their shoes trying to land them in a circle  for points.

Photos of my Sweet, Sweet Children (mostly my 6th graders) ^^

My favorite 6th grade class

Some of my favorite boys.

If I had to adopt children, they would be them. 

My school year has so far been absolutely amazing. Despite the at times demonic 2nd graders, my students really do make my day, everyday. As the 2/3 mark of my contract approaches, the question is, will I re-sign for a 2nd year?

#CHEERS2MYSWEETSWEETCHILDREN

Being picked up by a 6th grader....

Today in class I heard the greatest pick up line ever. Too bad the person who used it on me is a CHILD (and my student) because it might of worked if he were 10 years older.

Student: "Teacher are you a gay?"
Me: "No"
Student: "Then why do you wear that?" (I wear a rainbow bracelet)
Me: "Because I like it."
Student: "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Me: "No"
Student: "Why?"
Me: "Because I haven't met the right guy."
Student: "But you meet me."

 I love my 6th graders.

#CHEERS2MYSTUDENTSMAKINGMYEVERYDAYS

Meeting my match.

Somebody at my school hates me. I don't know who or what I did to them but they accomplished the sweetest revenge.

Fridays are known to be everybody's favorite day, everybody but me. I have come to loathe Fridays. I look forwards to Friday's arrival about as much as I look forward to having teeth pulled. I'd actually prefer to have my teeth pulled EVERY week than have to come into work on Fridays. Fridays are the closest thing to hell on earth for me. On Fridays I teach 2nd grade.

My first semester of teaching I only dealt with 5th and 6th graders. At the start of the new school year because we now have fewer 5th and 6th grade students I was given 2 back to back 2nd grade classes on Fridays. My first week with them wasn't a complete failure. I managed to teach them all at least one new English word, kept them entertained, alive but most importantly my sanity remained intact. Last week was the polar opposite.

My first class went well. The kids participated, they learned, they had fun but most importantly they behaved.

I was on a teacher's high after the first class. I managed to handle 30 2nd grade students who speak little to no English on my own. It was a feeling of triumph. I felt as if I were invincible and I could conquer ANYTHING. But then came my second class.

The kids filed into the classroom and began to take their seats. The two boys who I had already come to know as trouble makers, immediately began an MMA match over a seat. By the time I was able to navigate myself through all of the munchkins one of the boys had the other in a choke hold and refused to let go. After physically prying them apart I sat them both in the front of the class so I could keep an eye on them.

Because of the EXTREMELY low level of English that these students speak,  all of my lessons have many quick and simple activities that teach the students easy concepts. That particular day I was teaching the students animals names and the sounds that they make.

The first part of the class the students were supposed to look at photos of the different animals, hear the sounds that them make and imitate them. My first 2nd grade classes LOVED this, we barked, we mooed, we snorted and had a great time. My second 2nd grade class started off well, the first few animals all of the students participated in repeating the English name and making the animal sounds. But then came the horse. They horse was the beginning of my crash and burn.

I showed the class a photo of a horse, played the sound that horses make and then did a gallop for the students. The gallop was a bad idea. My gallop resembled the gallop that PSY does in the Gangnam Style dance and the students quickly picked up on this.

"WHOAAAAAA Kala Teacher GANGNAM STYLE!"

Me galloping apparently translated into me allowing one of the trouble makers to get out of his seat and gallop around the classroom.  It was cute, the first time. I was able to get him to return to his seat and I continued my lesson. The next animal was a dog. We chanted dog, we barked like dogs and we were getting ready to move on to the next animal but the other trouble maker decided that he wasn't finished with dog yet. He climbed on top of his chair and barked. and barked. and kept barking. High pitched barks, low pitched barks, long barks and short barks. This student mimicked them all. His classmates found him absolutely hilarious which just egged him to continue barking more and more. It took a while but I finally was able to coax him to take a seat. As soon as I turned my back to take my place back at the head of my classroom to resume my lesson I heard another bark. I turned around and the same student was sitting looking at at me trying to stifle his laughter. I gave him "the look" and continued my way back to the front of my classroom but before I could even take 2 steps, he barked again. This time when I turned around he was standing up and he continued to bark. The other students began to laugh. I told him to stop but instead he got louder. And the rest of the students began to laugh louder. I repeated myself and he got even louder. I was beginning to lose my patience. I finally sternly told  to sit down and he did. But rather sit in his chair, he instead got on all fours on the floor began to wag his "tail" and continue to bark like a dog at me.

This set the class off. It was as if there was a competition, who would be the student that makes Kala Teacher lose it. My previous galloping student got up and began to gallop around the classroom again. The other boys began to pretend that they we different types of animals as well. The usually sweet and innocent girls were either laughing hysterically at the "animals" or fighting to keep the "animals" away from them. It was a zoo and just kept escalating. Kids began to climb on desks, throw chairs, fight, do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that your ARE NOT supposed to do in a classroom.

I began to lose it and start hollering at the students which did NOTHING. I don't know what I expected, they don't even speak English why would they respond? I ended up dragging the two trouble making boys into the teacher's office and begging my Co-Teacher to call their homeroom teacher to get the monsters away from me. I had completely lost it.I couldn't handle it. I had finally met my match.

The homeroom teacher arrived quickly, I pointed her to the back office where the two boys were  sitting and focused on getting the rest of the class in order. A couple of minutes later she exited my office with the boys, told her class to line up and walked up to me with an apologetic look on her face and hugged me.

After her and her students left, I calmly walked to the bathroom, locked myself in the last stall and began to cry. My cry progressed into me balling out my eyes complete with me sobbing. I couldn't stop the tears. I couldn't control myself. For 30 minutes I sat there, wallowed in self pity, drown myself in tears and cursed the day those things were born.  By the time I could finally pull myself together enough to exit the bathroom my face was swollen from crying  and I had missed lunch.

I got back to my office to find that my Co-Teachers were genuinely concerned. One had brought me some pumpkin up from the lunch room and the other hovered around repeatedly asking me if I were okay. I deeply appreciated the gestures but I felt ridiculous. I let 8 year old children make me cry harder than I have ever cried in my life. No death, no ex-boyfriend, no injury, nothing had ever caused me to cry as hard as I had cried.

As I sit here finishing up my Monday I have developed a new appreciation for my 6th graders. Never again will I complain about their occasional smart mouths or laziness. Never again will I feel sorry for myself in having to deal with them going through puberty and developing attitudes. I now shall welcome all of that with open arms because at least they will never bark at me.


#CHEERS2FINDINGADOCTORWHOWILLTIEMYTUBESNOW

Special thanks to Toni, Dee, Sariska and my Sister for all being there for me at my most desperate time of need.

English names

School is officially back in session. Today marks the beginning of the new school year. My angelic 5th graders have now become my demon 6th graders and I have a new batch of wide eyed, easily impressed and absolutely adorable 5th graders who make me think for 40 minutes that I actually might want children.


This year I am now teaching my 6th grade classes with Mc. Dreamy, my young and extremely attractive office mate who to my benefit sits at the desk right across from me. (NOT only is he dreamy he is also an amazing teacher/disciplinary). Mc. Dreamy came up with the idea to allow the students to choose English names.

When I explained to the children that they could pick their own English names I expected them to take a few minutes to get into the activity, I was wrong. As soon as I finished the sentence "Today I want you to pick your own English names." One student's hand shot in the air. If this were me 6 weeks ago, I would have gracefully skipped calling on this particular student, but 6 weeks makes you forget.

Me: "Yes?"
Student: "Call me ZOMBIE!"

I had passed around a paper for the kids to write their new names besides their Korean ones after my beloved Zombie announced his new name the students began to fight over the paper. Actually, the boys began to fight over the paper. It was as if he opened the flood gates for their imaginations. I had to pass out a second sheet just for the girls because they refused to partake in that madness. I sat on my desk answering spelling questions that were being thrown my way, helping some students choose respectable names, denying inappropriate requests from others but mainly avoiding getting myself caught up in the middle of the insanity. After 15 minutes I called order.

Boys: "insert Korean phrase for more time here"
Me: "Say it in English."
Token boy who speaks English (later named Captain Korea): "Can we have more time please Kala Teacher?"

I am a sucker for English, especially when it is polite, so I easily gave in and gave them 10 minutes longer.

I collected the attendance sheets and quickly scanned them over realizing that like so many other English teachers before me,  I had made the mistake of letting the students choose WHATEVER name they would like. But here I was, I couldn't go back on my word.

The girls names were mainly normal. Most of them asked for my help and are currently named after people I know, my high school basketball teammates, my old coworkers and of course Beyonce, Madonna and Hilary (Clinton). The few girls that strayed on the wild side chose names such as, Hello Kitty, Tom and Queen Coffee.

Joe was a popular name among my students and I had to have a Rock, Paper, Scissors battle to see who would get to claim it in 4 of my 5 classes. I didn't understand why out of ALL names in the English language they would choose Joe. I dated a Joe (his English name) who also was an ESL student (learned English as his second language) and never asked but I always wondered why he didn't choose to be Michael, Sean even Joseph, something that was more than just plain ol' Joe. So I asked my students why.

Me: "Why do you all like Joe?"
Joe (the Rock, Paper, Scissors champ): "Because I can spell it."

I don't know what I expected the answer to be but I now completely understand why Joe is popular among the ESL crowd.

After I eliminated all of the duplicate names I began role call. I was going to hold a typical role call where the teacher reads the name and the student raises their hand but I didn't have faith in myself not to laugh hysterically after seeing some of the names I would have had to read. So instead I had the students go around the class and stand up and introduce themselves with their new names. I wasn't sure if I thought that this would make it easier for me to keep myself together, but it didn't.

The students in this particular class were extremely animated when introducing themselves, in character if they were named after somebody particular or loud if they were extremely proud of their invented name.

The first three boys stood up together and stated their names,


Student1: "I am Monday."
Student2: "I am Tuesday."
Student3: "I am Friday!"

I understood Friday, who doesn't like Fridays? But Monday and Tuesday...weird kids.

Student: "I am Sorry."
Me: "Why? What did you do? You don't have a name?"
Student: "MY NAME IS SORRY."

Monday, Tuesday, Friday and Sorry......

Student: "I am SOJU!"
Me: "No."
Student:  "I am WHISKEY."
Me: "No again."
Student:"I am CIGARETTE"
Me: "No, you are Candy"

Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Sorry and Candy (who is a male)....


One table of boys decided to go with an Avengers theme, Loki, Captain Korea, Hulk and Spiderman. I told him Spiderman wasn't an Avenger but according to him I "don't know anything cool." I decided not to argue but I do plan on showing the Avengers midway through the semester to prove Spiderman wrong.

Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Sorry, Candy, Loki, Captain Korea, Hulk and Spiderman.....

One of my girls decided to be Sugar Lips. I couldn't figure out an appropriate way to tell her why she shouldn't want to be called that name so I just let her keep it. I am sure I am the only person who speaks English well enough at my school to understand the potential inappropriateness of it anyways.

Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Sorry, Candy, Loki, Captain Korea, Hulk, Spiderman and Sugar Lips..... 

But having a 12 year old Korean boy slam his hands on the desk, stand up and proudly state "My name (dramatic pause) is Ba-raCk Insane Obam-A (He meant Barack Hussein Obama) was the icing on the cake to my already hilarious day.

So in this particular class I now have Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Sorry, Candy, Loki, Captain Korea, Hulk, Spiderman, Sugar Lips and Barack Hussein Obama.

With in all of my classes it just so happens every single one of the guys names that I have dated was selected, I just happen to unintentionally included their names on my list of example name the kids could use. Coincidentally my 3 most favorite girls are named Toni, Dianne and Krystle (the names of my three best friends). I have one boy named Potter and his best friend is named Harry. Edward, Bella and Jacob are all in the same class. Kobe Bryant and Lebron James are deskmates and they sit across from Hurricane and BadBear.

My students names range from Sally to Larva, John to Flower Fairy, needless to say this is going to be an entertaining school year.


#CHEERS2CREATIVITY

(I stand corrected. According to my nerdy neighbor Spiderman IS an Avenger in the comic books)

Boracay

My 10 days in Boracay feel surreal now as I am sitting at my desk back in Korea. As I begin to write I can only hope that I am able to capture and explain adequately the marvelous and life changing experience that I had while I was there.

I arrived on the island midday well rested and ready to begin my adventure. I briefly stopped at my hotel to drop off my luggage and then set out. I walked the length of the beach and was in compete awe. Here I was for 10 days in a literal paradise. It was the perfect mixture of old and new, local and tourist. A little over my first hour on the island I met a group of locals who I ended up spending much of my vacation with.

I first approached their shop purely out of curiosity. They were selling jewelery that had crocodile teeth, dried bird heads, monkey skulls ext. for pendants. It was a sight to see. Although strange, the jewelery was BEAUTIFUL. Out of the shop walked a girl with the most beautiful henna tattoo on here leg, immediately I decided that I wanted one. I approached the artist and asked him  how much it would cost for me to get one, 500 pesos. Naturally me being stubborn, I bargained the price down to 200 pesos and a beer.

My henna tattoo turned out gorgeous. He freestyled a tribal design that started on my shoulder and crept down to my bicep. But my 200 pesos and beer bought me more than just a temporary tattoo, it also left me with a new outlook on life.

Carpe Diem, Pura Vida, Don't Worry Be happy, Life Goes On are just a few of the many different quotes and sayings that people try to live by. For me, I have always lived by two words, "Why not?" On a school trip in Europe, why not ditch the group and do my own thing? My first college was planning on cutting down a historical tree, why not join the hippies and tie myself to it? Why not take a spontaneous trip up the coast of California the day before Mother's Day and STILL manage to make it back home before the annual brunch?  Close friend is living in Spain, why not on a whim go visit for a week? Why not dance like I am possessed by the DJ?  Fall in love with a guy who is moving permanently to Thailand, why not move there as well?  Things don't work out, why not pick up and move to Korea instead? Why not jump off of a 15 meter cliff? The list of why nots goes on for me. I do not let fear or doubts stop me. Why not do whatever I want? It is my one and only life I see no reason to set limitations.

The locals in Boracay have their own view on life, The Simple Life. When this first came up in conversation I couldn't wrap my mind around it entirely. I am a big city girl who comes from a world that is defined by wealth, education and status. A world where people are constantly trying to get ahead or fighting to keep up. A world where material objects, who you know, where you live and what you do all are major players in people's lives. A world where everyday I stress on trying to figure how I will become not only a competitor but winner in.

 The Simple Life hosts an entirely different concept. There isn't any hierarchical status based on wealth or education. There isn't any competition between the people to get ahead or stay ahead of one another. You are not defined by what or how much you have but rather what kind of person you are.The main objective? To be happy. And there they were, just happy with what they had. They didn't strive to be rich or to have the nicest things, all they needed was enough to survive. They were the richest people I had ever met.

Everyday I spent with them opened my eyes up a bit more. When we would eat, they would pay (as much as I would allow), not because they had more money than me (they did not) but because they could. They did for me, a stranger...somebody they had just met, simply because they could.They didn't need any other reason, they could do it so they didn't see why they shouldn't. If somebody came around their shop looking to get a tattoo but wanted to compare artists, they would tell them who else they should see. There was not any competition to keep the customer or profits to themselves, helping others prosper was more important. If somebody wanted to take photos with their products they let them with no animosity, even if it was obvious the people had no intention to buy. They felt it more important to give the people a good memento of their time in Boracay than to fuss over a purchase.  It was here I learned  the true definition of selflessness and it was here I learned the true definition of happiness.

I was a happy person before Boracay but after spending time there I rethought my reasons for happiness. The locals in Boracay were happy for reasons that could not be stripped from them by others. They were alive, breathing, had each other and enough to get by. These things were the reason for their happiness, things that were not materialistic and things that ultimately really matter in life. Was I happy for those reasons too? Or was my happiness because I am well paid, have a nice apartment and am able to afford finer things? I do not think there is anything wrong with being happy for these reasons but if I lost them, would I still be able to be happy? Or had I allowed myself to rely completely on these?

I could never be sure of my reasons for happiness before but I have embodied the concepts of this Simple Life. I now solely happy because I am able, able to live, able to breathe, able to love, able to give, able to receive and able to do. I now realize the importance of appreciating what is important and I owe it all to my new friends, you have opened my eyes to a new way of thinking. Thank you John Art, Nonoy, Ronnie and the rest of Mari Tattoo for showing me the real meaning of life, Mahal Kita.



#CHEERS2REALREASONSTOBEHAPPY



if anybody goes to Boracay visit my friends at Mari Tattoo!

Alone but not lonely

 **I wrote this before I left for vacation but in my excitement I forgot to post it.

In T-minus 3 days I will be on a plane and on my way to spending 10 sun filled, stress free days on Boracay Island in the Philippines. After the hellish winter I have been dealing with here in Korea, there are not enough words in the English language to describe just how happy I am for this. NEVER in my life have I been this pale. I might actually for the first time ever share a similar skin tone to my blond hair, blue eyed, white (Polish/Danish American, it really doesn't get much whiter than this) Mother.

Korea's winters wouldn't be so bad if there were sunlight, but instead every single day is cloud covered and murky. Okay actually Korean winters would still be really bad even with sunlight but at least I wouldn't look sickly. I've always liked my freckles but now that my skin tone is near translucent, having dark brown spots on my face just makes me look like I have contracted scabies or a mutated form of chicken pox.

I have forgotten what sunlight feels like. I have forgotten what it is like to be hot. I have forgotten what a sunburn feels like. I have forgotten what it is like to not be able to wear certain types of clothes because of tan lines. I have forgotten what it is like to WANT to be outside. So for the 10 days that I am in the Philippines I have plans on soaking up as much vitamin D as humanly possible. I do not care how uncomfortably hot I get, I do not care if I sunburn, I do not care if I get a sunglass tan or suffer from a heat stroke, I will force myself to sit and enjoy the heat every single moment of heat because when I return to the ROK I will once again be drown in bitter cold and gloom.

Of course I have been bragging about my future trip on all social media that I actively participate in which then leads to the question, "Who are you going with?"

I am going alone.

This answer usually receives one of two reactions. The first, pity and the second, worry. Those who pity me never worry about me and those who worry about me do not pity me. I understand the worry. People worry that something might happen to me because I am alone and people who are alone are more vulnerable. This reaction doesn't bother me, I understand it. But the people who pity me, annoy me with their looks of "ohhh this poor lonely loser. She doesn't have friends and therefore must go lie on the beach in beautiful weather, clad in just a bikini, losing herself in great novels, great music and consuming amazing food ALL ALONE."

.......still waiting for the point when I see the reason I need another person. I have friends, plenty of friends, all over the world, all ages, all colors, all demographics..there is no shortage in that area of my life. Yes, having my bestfriends next to me would add to the FABULOUSNESS time that I am going to have on my trip, but them not being there is taking nothing away. 

To those who have never done it, try traveling alone. It allows you more of an opportunity to meet other people and make new friends. You are able to experience where you are on a different plane. Alone you have to fend for yourself, figure out how to get around, communicate, what to do and where to go on your own.  It also gives you much needed time to yourself and allows you to do what YOU want to do on your OWN time schedule. I personally believe everybody should try it at least once. BUT Of course do not forget to be safe.

As for that I will be on a 10+ day hiatus. Stay tuned for my adventures in Boracay :).

#CHEERS2VACATION!

School Lunches, Slurping and Permission to Taint Society *unedited

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

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

Korean Men

Anybody that has lived in Korea knows that I could conclude this blog with one word, BEAUTIFUL.
Up until probably the day that I left San Diego to move here I was still torn on whether Korea was really the country that I wanted to teach in. I was debating between Thailand and Korea for months on end but the moment I was set to board my plane in San Francisco on a direct flight to Seoul I knew I had made the right decision because standing at the gates checking tickets was the most attractive man I had ever seen, (He has been trumped quite a few times since I have been here). He was none other than of Korean decent and the beginning of my slight obsession.

I have a natural attraction to Asian men. I am not sure exactly why, it could be because I grew up in a community highly concentrated with Asians or maybe I was influenced by all of the Asian cartoons and Asian martial arts movies I watched as a child but something has drawn me to favor them over other races. And upon moving here, Korean men have quickly ascended to the top as my specific flavor of choice.

In my eyes Korean men have the advantage over other Asian races for  3 reasons. 
1- they are on average, taller.
2-they have AMAZING hair (if i have a Korean baby that child will be blessed)
3- and many of them have thick thighs (this is the icing on the cake).

Sometimes when I am out I feel as if I am dreaming. Everywhere I turn I am surrounded by  K-POP star look-a-likes (photo examples are the end of the blog). Not only are they endowed with flawless faces and messy but yet some how perfectly styled hair, Korean men have impeccable style. From the tailored business suit wearing men who go against the traditional black shiny shoes and wear matte brown to the "I just threw this together but somehow STILL look runway ready" to the "I wear bright colored Nikes with every outfit and yet STILL make it fashionable" or whatever their style may be, someway or another they always look good. I am constantly getting caught by my friends eye raping every Korean male in my vicinity or getting left behind because I was distracted by a man who we had just walked passed. But even after all the admiration I have yet and probably will never make a move.

If somebody was asked to describe me, the last word out of their mouth would be shy. Before coming to Korea I had not been shy a single day in my life, especially when it came to men. That was easy, being turned down did not frighten me, I knew it wouldn't kill me so I didn't fear it. But here in Korea, I still know it won't kill me but I am complete incapable of functioning. Around Korean men I am like a school girl, the simplest things out of their mouths make me blush furiously. I don't care if it is just our waiter taking an order or somebody ringing me up at the convenience store, my brain goes to mush. Maybe its the perfect swoop in their hair or the disappearing eyes when they smile or the fact that they may or may not speak English,  whatever it is something there intimidates me.

So here I am living in my ideal world, in my ideal situation (surrounded by men who I am attracted to) unable to gather enough guts to do anything.

#CHEERS2BEINGCHICKENSHIT
 


PS: after a little liquid courage I was finally able to make a move ^^