Yellow dust...you hear about it from every guidebook, website, and person having anything to do with Korea. Sand from the Gobi Desert, blows in in the spring, irritates noses & lungs. Ok. I still wasn't really sure how to picture it. I guess I had in mind the sandstorms on the dunes in Colorado, or perhaps something like the film of pollen you find on your car every morning when the trees bloom? How about something between nuclear fallout and Krakatoa?
All last week, other expats were mentioning yellow dust in their Facebook posts, and I was wondering which Seoul they were living in, having seen nothing out of the ordinary myself. Yesterday, however, was unmistakable. I THINK it was a regular storm that made it nighttime-dark around noon. But once that blew by, it got lighter, but not clear, and there was a pronounced yellow glow. You couldn't discern anything in the air, like with snowflakes, and I didn't end up with sand in every crease, as I did after climbing the Colorado Dunes, just eerie yellow overcast, like wearing cheap sunglasses. This must be what the Dust Bowl or Mt. St. Helens were like. Unfortunately, I didn't think to take any pictures. I thought I might try today, but it was sunny and clear, as if the yellow dust were never here.
I don't think this has anything to do with the cold-ish ailment I've been nursing this weekend. That's probably more related to the Korean disdain for calling in sick, and thus the liberal sharing of germs around the office. I had to bail on the cat cafe on Friday--a wrenching decision, since I haven't been there in 2 months, though it can hardly be called a decision...more a lack of ability to stand up. I missed the St. Patrick's Festival/Parade and a middle eastern lunch with the Seoul Veggie Society yesterday, too, though that was in part due to having to be at school to interview applicants for this year's EEP program. The kids were supposed to choose one of four pictures and tell a short story (ie 4-5 sentences) about it. Whenever I've tried activities like this in my classes, the students seem completely flummoxed, so I was curious how this would go. And either this year's crop of 1st graders is pretty poor at English, or this activity truly is outside the repertoire of most Korean schoolkids. (I'm inclined to believe the 2nd, as I've never seen evidence of anything creative taking place in a Koren classroom)
I had 2 or 3 kids stare at the paper until my co-teacher told them "time over". About 45% gave perfunctory answers when prompted ("What's happening in this picture?" "Basketball."), and about 45% did put together a few sentences, usually descriptive rather than creative ("They are in a classroom. They are studying English.") Then there were the standouts. One boy labored through a couple sentences about the picture he'd chosen before asking if he could do a different picture. He then proceeded to read the sample at the bottom of the page verbatim. Another, when asked which picture he chose, gave a long explanation of how the other kids in line didn't seem to be choosing Picture 4, so he was going to do that one in the hope that he might earn some extra points for it (Picture 4 wasn't actually that unusual, but he did earn full marks for a good, competent story). There was one fantastic tale of a basketball game involving teenagers from Russia who eventually had to flee because they were cold; and then there was the story that even got my head teacher to laugh: the boy and his family were sailing to the USA when they met a sea monster; after fighting the monster, the boat sank, and then they discovered Atlantis (a 7-syllable word) and swam to an island where they called a Korean scientist, and in the end, they were rich. The pronunciation and grammar were atrocious, but he got his point across, was far more creative than anyone else, and I've conversed with this kid about the English books he reads at home, so I know his attitude is good. The other interviewers were asking kids if they like English or want to be in this program, and several were honest and said 'no'.
So this week, we start EEP, in addition to all the other scheduled insanity. I've GOT to get better, 'cause I don't have time to be sick. My temperature was within a couple ticks of normal this afternoon, but it's back to 100 now, so I'm hoping this is the final battle. I'm teaching classes the rules and consequences this week, and I still have to decide how exactly I'll do that, and what the consequences are going to be. The good behavior of the first week was apparently just a 'welcome back' respite; my last class on Friday let me know how much work there still is to do.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Groovin' on a Thursday Afternoon
I wanted to explore Deokso tonight (because I didn't go last Thursday), and I have a Skype appointment that I need to keep, but I'm feeling tired and unadventurous. I know I need a walk, and I want to ensure that the cat cafe hasn't folded, and see N'Seoul Tower lit green for St. Patrick's Day, but reading and writing are appealing to me right now. Normally, I look forward to Skype conversations, but tonight, I'd rather grab one of the countless books and magazines lying neglected around me and forget what time it is.
I finished Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul yesterday. It was a slog, though judging from the multiple pages of radiant praise (and the Nobel Prize for Literature), I'm the only one who thought so. It wasn't uninteresting--I've gained insight into this city I hope to visit next year, and the author seems like someone I might get along with--but the lengthy, loving descriptions were better suited to someone who's seen the place, and the same goes for the dense, nostalgia-laden historical litanies. I've now switched gears completely, having brought "Little House in the Big Woods" back with me from NY. The inscription reads "Christmas 1980, To Melissa with love, the start to your personal collection. Mommy and Daddy." I know I was seldom without one of these books in the early '80s, but I don't remember revisiting them since. It's interesting and informative (in just 2 chapters, I've learned details on butchering, smoking meat, and making butter), and made richer by the dual experience of vividly recalling pictures and passages, and appreciating the story through a vastly different lens. This is the first of 9 books I've collected to read this semester--it doesn't sound like much, but I'm not sure I'll make it. The others are: Bill Bryson's The Mother Tongue (a re-read), Wuthering Heights, The Ugly American, The Secret Life of Bees, Little House on the Prairie, Travels with Charley, Rats, and Gulliver's Travels.
Today was a remarkable day, with many diversions and simple pleasures. Lessons and planning continue to go well. If I get around to it, I'll post separately on that--there's certainly enough material for it. While I saw the last class for the first time today, and taught a low-level class a lesson that I'd mentally composed just for them on yesterday's walk home, I've seen most of the 3rd-graders twice now, and the honeymoon is in its waning moments. Still, teaching in my own classroom has numerous benefits, one of which is that I think the kids behave better. But again, I'll address that on its own (or say I will, anyway). Classes today were all 35 minutes, and the dreaded extra period we have on Thursdays was cancelled...only later did I find out why. I was told that parents could come to school today to observe their children. Sure, fine. I was not prepared for the pack that gathered outside my classroom door 6th period. Maybe I should have bowed to them or something when they came in, but I was trying hard to pretend they weren't there, jealously guarding my newfound confidence. Fortunately, this was an advanced class, and they behaved like church mice (or maybe unfortunately--they probably would have been pretty good anyway and I could have used the parent influence on my delinquents), but since they were a "high" class, I not only wanted to get through what's usually 45 minutes of material; I felt they were capable of doing it that fast. I don't know how good the parents' English is, but we FLEW through getting-to-know-you and St. Patrick's Day. After class, the parents lingered while I shut down the computer, erased the board, pushed in the chairs. And then Ms. Kim returned and I discovered what they were waiting for--evaluations. SO glad I didn't know that was part of the deal. Nobody told me what they wrote, but at least the lesson was coherent, somewhat interesting, and used PowerPoint, and the kids made me look good.
Ok, so that was more "diversion" than "simple pleasure". The short classes meant we had a long afternoon to while away, and I found two fascinating websites with the potential for long-term enjoyment (a good thing, since the Africa Overlanders I've been following one country a day since December are now 3 days from finished): fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com, an Illinois teacher who's eating what the kids eat for a year and has sparked an incredible conversation about something I hope to crusade on in the future, and the Prelinger Archives, where old ('40s-'60s ish...or were they 40-60 years old?) commercials and 'education' films are viewable. I watched a sales pitch on careers in sales, a travelogue for Freedomland amusement park in the Bronx (sounded pretty cool!), an exhortation for kids to share, "Pornography for Profit" (see the world's first powerpoint, and learn how homosexuality causes communism in this gem), and a neat system for families to enjoy more free time. Also found "Leave it to Beaver" on YouTube (Beaver: "That's my shrunken head." June:"Why, so it is"). Good times!
On the way home, my co-teacher, June, took me to a jewelry shop, where I got the 13-months-dead battery in my given-up-for-lost watch replaced in two shakes of a lamb's tail for $4. A few paces down the sidewalk, we came upon a vendor hawking fresh strawberries (they're in season in Korea, somehow). For $2, I've got a carton all my own! I asked June why prices ranged from $2-$5 (the rough won equivalent) for what appeared to be the same size cartons. She said it was the size of the strawberries. So while it may be important to someone to pay more than double for the mutant ones, I got the succulent ones (which aren't all that small) for a song. I had some for dessert, after my tortellini (from home) with fresh tomato, garlic, basil, and olive oil. :D
Shorter posts. Yup.
I finished Orhan Pamuk's Istanbul yesterday. It was a slog, though judging from the multiple pages of radiant praise (and the Nobel Prize for Literature), I'm the only one who thought so. It wasn't uninteresting--I've gained insight into this city I hope to visit next year, and the author seems like someone I might get along with--but the lengthy, loving descriptions were better suited to someone who's seen the place, and the same goes for the dense, nostalgia-laden historical litanies. I've now switched gears completely, having brought "Little House in the Big Woods" back with me from NY. The inscription reads "Christmas 1980, To Melissa with love, the start to your personal collection. Mommy and Daddy." I know I was seldom without one of these books in the early '80s, but I don't remember revisiting them since. It's interesting and informative (in just 2 chapters, I've learned details on butchering, smoking meat, and making butter), and made richer by the dual experience of vividly recalling pictures and passages, and appreciating the story through a vastly different lens. This is the first of 9 books I've collected to read this semester--it doesn't sound like much, but I'm not sure I'll make it. The others are: Bill Bryson's The Mother Tongue (a re-read), Wuthering Heights, The Ugly American, The Secret Life of Bees, Little House on the Prairie, Travels with Charley, Rats, and Gulliver's Travels.
Today was a remarkable day, with many diversions and simple pleasures. Lessons and planning continue to go well. If I get around to it, I'll post separately on that--there's certainly enough material for it. While I saw the last class for the first time today, and taught a low-level class a lesson that I'd mentally composed just for them on yesterday's walk home, I've seen most of the 3rd-graders twice now, and the honeymoon is in its waning moments. Still, teaching in my own classroom has numerous benefits, one of which is that I think the kids behave better. But again, I'll address that on its own (or say I will, anyway). Classes today were all 35 minutes, and the dreaded extra period we have on Thursdays was cancelled...only later did I find out why. I was told that parents could come to school today to observe their children. Sure, fine. I was not prepared for the pack that gathered outside my classroom door 6th period. Maybe I should have bowed to them or something when they came in, but I was trying hard to pretend they weren't there, jealously guarding my newfound confidence. Fortunately, this was an advanced class, and they behaved like church mice (or maybe unfortunately--they probably would have been pretty good anyway and I could have used the parent influence on my delinquents), but since they were a "high" class, I not only wanted to get through what's usually 45 minutes of material; I felt they were capable of doing it that fast. I don't know how good the parents' English is, but we FLEW through getting-to-know-you and St. Patrick's Day. After class, the parents lingered while I shut down the computer, erased the board, pushed in the chairs. And then Ms. Kim returned and I discovered what they were waiting for--evaluations. SO glad I didn't know that was part of the deal. Nobody told me what they wrote, but at least the lesson was coherent, somewhat interesting, and used PowerPoint, and the kids made me look good.
Ok, so that was more "diversion" than "simple pleasure". The short classes meant we had a long afternoon to while away, and I found two fascinating websites with the potential for long-term enjoyment (a good thing, since the Africa Overlanders I've been following one country a day since December are now 3 days from finished): fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com, an Illinois teacher who's eating what the kids eat for a year and has sparked an incredible conversation about something I hope to crusade on in the future, and the Prelinger Archives, where old ('40s-'60s ish...or were they 40-60 years old?) commercials and 'education' films are viewable. I watched a sales pitch on careers in sales, a travelogue for Freedomland amusement park in the Bronx (sounded pretty cool!), an exhortation for kids to share, "Pornography for Profit" (see the world's first powerpoint, and learn how homosexuality causes communism in this gem), and a neat system for families to enjoy more free time. Also found "Leave it to Beaver" on YouTube (Beaver: "That's my shrunken head." June:"Why, so it is"). Good times!
On the way home, my co-teacher, June, took me to a jewelry shop, where I got the 13-months-dead battery in my given-up-for-lost watch replaced in two shakes of a lamb's tail for $4. A few paces down the sidewalk, we came upon a vendor hawking fresh strawberries (they're in season in Korea, somehow). For $2, I've got a carton all my own! I asked June why prices ranged from $2-$5 (the rough won equivalent) for what appeared to be the same size cartons. She said it was the size of the strawberries. So while it may be important to someone to pay more than double for the mutant ones, I got the succulent ones (which aren't all that small) for a song. I had some for dessert, after my tortellini (from home) with fresh tomato, garlic, basil, and olive oil. :D
Shorter posts. Yup.
More Bathroom Adventures
Yes, after nearly 2 weeks of silence, I am blogging about nothing more substantive than bathrooms. In my defense, I'll say that I've been quite busy with evening activities, I've been making a concerted effort this week to update my languishing kids' blog (2 whole posts!!), and bathrooms are probably what a lot of you find most interesting anyway.
I'm also trying to make my posts shorter, as I think a lot of my procrastination on the blogging front is due to not wanting to start unless I have an hour or more to sacrifice, so I'm working (undoubtedly slowly) toward the paragraph here 'n' there format many other bloggers use. We'll see how that goes.
Anyway, while following some colleagues to the cafeteria a couple weeks ago, I discovered the teachers' bathroom. It's in the other building, and so requires a few minutes and the donning of a jacket (not that I'd leave the office--the literal one--without one anyway...it's still only in the 40s here), but it's nicer, provides toilet paper, and I won't set off a shrieking frenzy if I run into anyone else in there. It also seems to be heated, though this could just be the rising ambient temperatures of near-spring.
There are 4 stalls; 3 squatters, and the "handicapped" toilet. (It doesn't use the word, or any amusing substitute, just the ubiquitous stick wheelchair guy...or maybe it's a woman, since she's in the ladies' room) I don't know if it's gauche to use the handicapped facilities, but I've never caused a line, and my foreigner status gives me an almost-universal "get out of faux pas free" card.
I did actually take the plunge and try the squatters for 2 days last week. It wasn't that bad, just disorienting to have tp available in that posture. I don't have a problem with them, but am still preferentially gravitating to the western option. Interestingly, they're the first of their kind I've used (outside of Italy), meaning that if I hadn't chosen to use them, I would still have never been forced to.
Add to the list of brilliant ideas in use here: a plastic accordion door on the restroom stall. It thwacks into place via magnetic strip, and there's a hook & eye for busier bathrooms or paranoid people. It covers the entire opening (no "peep strips" on either side), and you don't have to maneuver around it. Brilliant!! (especially in airports--I had to explain repeatedly in the line at JFK that I was waiting for the handicapped stall because it was the only one I & all my luggage would fit into)
Not content with making my life easy, the bathroom sink has a lift lever similar to many in the US, but you lift to turn it OFF. I'm proving even denser with this than with the newer-style car window switches, which I did master after only a dozen or so times--I've yet to turn the sink off on the first try. Then there's the heat dryer, whose electric eye is back against the wall--you almost have to walk your fingers up the back to turn it on--but the heat comes out in the front. I thought for days that it was broken. Now I've learned you can only dry one hand at a time, while the other keeps the sensor active.
Last week at Riverdance (yes, Riverdance) at the Sejong Center, I offset the squat toilets with one of the most incredible bathrooms I've ever been in. Besides the giant lounge and the individual sinks (separated by mirrored partitions--Koreans do love a mirror), the toilet had a heated seat! A first for me! It also had a bunch of other buttons, but after an episode at the Dongbu education office where I pressed a random button and jumped back just in time to watch in both bemusement and mortification as a hose emerged and launched a fountain that hit the stall door and ran onto the floor, I didn't try any of the deluxe features at Sejong. They also had one of the increasingly common "jet dry" devices where you lower your hands between two plastic panels, then withdraw them slowly through a horizontal wall of moving air. It's kinda like the dryer at the car wash.
From my Canadian friend, on her now-"paroled" American boyfriend: "He kept saying 'restroom', which I thought was so weird. Is that an expression in America?"
I'm also trying to make my posts shorter, as I think a lot of my procrastination on the blogging front is due to not wanting to start unless I have an hour or more to sacrifice, so I'm working (undoubtedly slowly) toward the paragraph here 'n' there format many other bloggers use. We'll see how that goes.
Anyway, while following some colleagues to the cafeteria a couple weeks ago, I discovered the teachers' bathroom. It's in the other building, and so requires a few minutes and the donning of a jacket (not that I'd leave the office--the literal one--without one anyway...it's still only in the 40s here), but it's nicer, provides toilet paper, and I won't set off a shrieking frenzy if I run into anyone else in there. It also seems to be heated, though this could just be the rising ambient temperatures of near-spring.
There are 4 stalls; 3 squatters, and the "handicapped" toilet. (It doesn't use the word, or any amusing substitute, just the ubiquitous stick wheelchair guy...or maybe it's a woman, since she's in the ladies' room) I don't know if it's gauche to use the handicapped facilities, but I've never caused a line, and my foreigner status gives me an almost-universal "get out of faux pas free" card.
I did actually take the plunge and try the squatters for 2 days last week. It wasn't that bad, just disorienting to have tp available in that posture. I don't have a problem with them, but am still preferentially gravitating to the western option. Interestingly, they're the first of their kind I've used (outside of Italy), meaning that if I hadn't chosen to use them, I would still have never been forced to.
Add to the list of brilliant ideas in use here: a plastic accordion door on the restroom stall. It thwacks into place via magnetic strip, and there's a hook & eye for busier bathrooms or paranoid people. It covers the entire opening (no "peep strips" on either side), and you don't have to maneuver around it. Brilliant!! (especially in airports--I had to explain repeatedly in the line at JFK that I was waiting for the handicapped stall because it was the only one I & all my luggage would fit into)
Not content with making my life easy, the bathroom sink has a lift lever similar to many in the US, but you lift to turn it OFF. I'm proving even denser with this than with the newer-style car window switches, which I did master after only a dozen or so times--I've yet to turn the sink off on the first try. Then there's the heat dryer, whose electric eye is back against the wall--you almost have to walk your fingers up the back to turn it on--but the heat comes out in the front. I thought for days that it was broken. Now I've learned you can only dry one hand at a time, while the other keeps the sensor active.
Last week at Riverdance (yes, Riverdance) at the Sejong Center, I offset the squat toilets with one of the most incredible bathrooms I've ever been in. Besides the giant lounge and the individual sinks (separated by mirrored partitions--Koreans do love a mirror), the toilet had a heated seat! A first for me! It also had a bunch of other buttons, but after an episode at the Dongbu education office where I pressed a random button and jumped back just in time to watch in both bemusement and mortification as a hose emerged and launched a fountain that hit the stall door and ran onto the floor, I didn't try any of the deluxe features at Sejong. They also had one of the increasingly common "jet dry" devices where you lower your hands between two plastic panels, then withdraw them slowly through a horizontal wall of moving air. It's kinda like the dryer at the car wash.
From my Canadian friend, on her now-"paroled" American boyfriend: "He kept saying 'restroom', which I thought was so weird. Is that an expression in America?"
Friday, March 5, 2010
Rolling Into Week -24
The flags on my fridge are getting noticeably fewer. They're not as weighty as they once were, but it's still satisfying to pull one off every Friday afternoon. And thus I roll into week -24, riding high on a wave of optimism, though likely about to get jerked under by the lingering riptide of jetlag.
Actually, the jetlag hasn't been nearly as bad as I'd anticipated. Both ways, it's mostly manifested as late-night narcolepsy. Normally, I need a little wind-down to actually fall asleep. In the first few days after arrival, however, I reach a point where I shut down as if by switch, around 7:00 the first night and working back to a more manageable 10 or 11:00 now. The first nights back in Seoul, I also had the familiar waking with the roosters, but, instead of lasting a week like it did in August, I only had to put up with it for 2 nights this time. I guess after staying awake for 30 hours straight, one's body doesn't really care what time it is anywhere.
It's been a pretty low-key week. I threw together a lesson Tuesday morning (Monday was Korean Independence Day) before learning that I wouldn't need it this week, so I've had 4 days of deskwarming without the agony of birthing a lesson. The changes and developments at school are mostly on the positive side. Our office is now a henhouse, and the new arrivals include the art teacher who's been really friendly and helpful to me throughout the last 6 months, and a new English teacher, Ms. Yi, who seems to be on my wavelength. Everyone's English is stellar, and though most of the banter is in Korean, I like the vibe.
My classroom is just about ready to go. We had a small setback when someone(s) apparently came in and made off with a few desks and chairs, though they did make the effort to replace them with a handful of dwarf chairs. At least there's a heater now, and the computer at long last has a working mouse. Ms. Cho, my new advocate, said that the kids would schlep the desks when I have my first (and only) class on Monday. I must be turning into a real teacher because the news that my class would be 10-15 minutes shorter elicited more panic than relief.
There has been a shift in my reality. I still spent more time this week reading blogs and weeding emails than writing lessons, but I'm in good shape for next week, I have ideas about the rest of March, and I have a SYLLABUS. More or less. After getting my hands on the school calendar yesterday, I laid out each week, when classes would be, what blocks of time I'll have, and came up with topics through July for both grades (and it still is just 2--more on that in a minute). I found this so compelling I actually continued working on it after I got home. I've never understood people who bring work home when it's not imperative, but I got a little taste of it yesterday (and again today!). Coming up with topics is still a LOT easier than teasing them into lessons, but I feel much more adept at it now, and comfortable with the idea that it'll work out one way or another.
I've been in a bit of a planning frenzy in general. In some ways it makes the time seem shorter...August looks frightfully far away, but when you think of it in terms of "I'm gonna do A, B, C, D, and then I go home", it's practically tomorrow. And I actually do have to sketch out right through to the end to make sure I'm getting to everything I want to get to. I've signed up with 2 Adventure Korea trips in March, a cave thing this weekend that a friend recommended a while back, and a Temple Stay at the end of the month--one thing that every visitor here should experience. I'm a little leery of going with a bus group, but I've been trying for months to arrange something and gotten absolutely nowhere, so bus it is. If friends follow through, I'll also be visiting the National Museum of Korea, and going to the Seoul Racecourse, then in April taking a weekend trip to one of Korea's southern provinces. I've even picked the weeks I want for summer vacation, though they'll have apoplexy at school if I mention it. I'm looking at a week in the Philippines with an extended layover in Hong Kong for July, then a 4-day weekend in Tokyo in August before my valedictory road trip.
Getting wordy here, but 2 happy things I want to mention. I was afraid that this semester was going to be a death march. EEP, the evening program I taught in the fall, is moving to Saturday this year; AND there was a rumor in school that I was going to be teaching all of the 1st graders instead of just the advanced ones, bringing my weekly class load to 25 (anything over 22 and we're entitled to overtime). I assented to Saturday EEP most unwillingly and was bracing myself for writing more plans with just one planning period a day. Turns out there are only 6 Saturdays that EEP is meeting...not so bad over the course of 6 months (though it does mean I can't go camping in the DMZ with Adventure Korea). And, getting my class schedule today, the 25/week plan was apparently scrapped. My 20 classes are actually one less than last semester. And I don't have an additional level to write lessons for (though I may still if the low 2s are as bad as they seemed during camp).
On top of it all, Spring does look like it's going to come this year. Temps have been in the high 40s, and look to stay that way for the foreseeable future. I had to put my umbrella back in my school bag after getting caught without it yesterday. Going out without mittens is actually worth considering. It's a happy time. I'm optimistic.
Actually, the jetlag hasn't been nearly as bad as I'd anticipated. Both ways, it's mostly manifested as late-night narcolepsy. Normally, I need a little wind-down to actually fall asleep. In the first few days after arrival, however, I reach a point where I shut down as if by switch, around 7:00 the first night and working back to a more manageable 10 or 11:00 now. The first nights back in Seoul, I also had the familiar waking with the roosters, but, instead of lasting a week like it did in August, I only had to put up with it for 2 nights this time. I guess after staying awake for 30 hours straight, one's body doesn't really care what time it is anywhere.
It's been a pretty low-key week. I threw together a lesson Tuesday morning (Monday was Korean Independence Day) before learning that I wouldn't need it this week, so I've had 4 days of deskwarming without the agony of birthing a lesson. The changes and developments at school are mostly on the positive side. Our office is now a henhouse, and the new arrivals include the art teacher who's been really friendly and helpful to me throughout the last 6 months, and a new English teacher, Ms. Yi, who seems to be on my wavelength. Everyone's English is stellar, and though most of the banter is in Korean, I like the vibe.
My classroom is just about ready to go. We had a small setback when someone(s) apparently came in and made off with a few desks and chairs, though they did make the effort to replace them with a handful of dwarf chairs. At least there's a heater now, and the computer at long last has a working mouse. Ms. Cho, my new advocate, said that the kids would schlep the desks when I have my first (and only) class on Monday. I must be turning into a real teacher because the news that my class would be 10-15 minutes shorter elicited more panic than relief.
There has been a shift in my reality. I still spent more time this week reading blogs and weeding emails than writing lessons, but I'm in good shape for next week, I have ideas about the rest of March, and I have a SYLLABUS. More or less. After getting my hands on the school calendar yesterday, I laid out each week, when classes would be, what blocks of time I'll have, and came up with topics through July for both grades (and it still is just 2--more on that in a minute). I found this so compelling I actually continued working on it after I got home. I've never understood people who bring work home when it's not imperative, but I got a little taste of it yesterday (and again today!). Coming up with topics is still a LOT easier than teasing them into lessons, but I feel much more adept at it now, and comfortable with the idea that it'll work out one way or another.
I've been in a bit of a planning frenzy in general. In some ways it makes the time seem shorter...August looks frightfully far away, but when you think of it in terms of "I'm gonna do A, B, C, D, and then I go home", it's practically tomorrow. And I actually do have to sketch out right through to the end to make sure I'm getting to everything I want to get to. I've signed up with 2 Adventure Korea trips in March, a cave thing this weekend that a friend recommended a while back, and a Temple Stay at the end of the month--one thing that every visitor here should experience. I'm a little leery of going with a bus group, but I've been trying for months to arrange something and gotten absolutely nowhere, so bus it is. If friends follow through, I'll also be visiting the National Museum of Korea, and going to the Seoul Racecourse, then in April taking a weekend trip to one of Korea's southern provinces. I've even picked the weeks I want for summer vacation, though they'll have apoplexy at school if I mention it. I'm looking at a week in the Philippines with an extended layover in Hong Kong for July, then a 4-day weekend in Tokyo in August before my valedictory road trip.
Getting wordy here, but 2 happy things I want to mention. I was afraid that this semester was going to be a death march. EEP, the evening program I taught in the fall, is moving to Saturday this year; AND there was a rumor in school that I was going to be teaching all of the 1st graders instead of just the advanced ones, bringing my weekly class load to 25 (anything over 22 and we're entitled to overtime). I assented to Saturday EEP most unwillingly and was bracing myself for writing more plans with just one planning period a day. Turns out there are only 6 Saturdays that EEP is meeting...not so bad over the course of 6 months (though it does mean I can't go camping in the DMZ with Adventure Korea). And, getting my class schedule today, the 25/week plan was apparently scrapped. My 20 classes are actually one less than last semester. And I don't have an additional level to write lessons for (though I may still if the low 2s are as bad as they seemed during camp).
On top of it all, Spring does look like it's going to come this year. Temps have been in the high 40s, and look to stay that way for the foreseeable future. I had to put my umbrella back in my school bag after getting caught without it yesterday. Going out without mittens is actually worth considering. It's a happy time. I'm optimistic.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Part 2
I've been mentally composing this post through a long, quiet day at school, and it was the picture of eloquence (is that a mixed metaphor? what's the equivalent expression for sound?). Now, though, I'm in a jetlagged stupor, but determined to commit this entry to bytes if only to keep myself awake a little longer. With a sleep deficit that rivals the one in my bank account, I might actually go to bed if I thought it would help, but I'd just be perpetuating the cycle, and turning in at 8:30 is not something I want to make a habit of.
Neither is boarding 14-hour flights. Any subsequent East Coast-East Asia travel is going to involve a West Coast layover, for sanity's sake. Once again, I was very lucky yesterday (or was it the day before?), scoring a window seat with magnificent views, and a sweet elderly couple as seatmates. We did go over the top of the Earth, never really leaving daylight, and it was clear most of the way, affording a look at the North Pole and its environs. There are some nifty formations up there (land? snow?), and I feel privileged to see it all. Nonetheless, being confined in an airplane for 14 hours is a whole new kind of crazy, and watching the little electronic airplane get progressively (but so slowly!) farther from New York is just that much more traumatic.
At first, hearing Korean made me nauseous, watching North America disappear from under me made it feel as if my internal organs were all bolting in different directions. Once in Seoul, though, it was as though I'd never left, albeit in a considerably less buoyant way than I felt in New York. (and why is sleep so elusive on an interminable plane ride, but so readily indulged in on the Airport Limousine bus?) I am resigned. With an occasional inner scream. 25 weeks to go. And no more nourishing meals, purring cats, loving arms, or wooded walks. It's not so bad. It just seems like it.
And so for the first day of the rest of my life here. I got to school 1/2 hour early today, to find Ms. Cho, with whom I have a spotted history, making herself at home at Terrie's desk. Terrie's old desk. Terrie has given up being my liaison, for reasons I'm not privy to, so Ms. Cho is now the person to whom I'm to direct all questions, although she will be gone for 3 months on maternity leave beginning in April. There was also somebody completely new at Mr. Kwon's desk, so I've lost my 2 best advocates/helping hands. The news was better from there, however. I don't have to teach this week, so the hours of fretting and the madcap PowerPointing this morning were unnecessary. EEP doesn't start until March 24, and my signing away my Saturdays will really only affect 6 of them. The new English teacher is nice, speaks English very well, and lives in my neighborhood. And Terrie and Mr. Lim, the teachers with the best discipline, will now be teaching 3rd grade, the kids with the worst, so maybe it will be somewhat less hellish than last year. On top of everything, the NY teacher continuing ed requirements that I've been searching for for years are readily available on Wikipedia. Who knew?
Oh, and by the way, RCSD...those "diverse" kids studying in that charming little picture on your website...are IN Korea.
I'm losing the battle with sleep. Should REALLY go for a walk, but...
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