What's My Age Again?

I'm having an identity crisis of sorts.

Specifically, about age.

Let the record reflect that I am, in fact, 22 years old.

2011 - 1989 = 22 

I'm not saying I didn't check the math, but I didn't not check either. Make of that what you will.

So my general confusion about my age stems from approximately 4 sources.

1) Korean age

As is apparently the norm in a variety of Asian countries, you are considered 1 year old when you are born. So, add one year to your real age, and presto-change-o, you've got your Korean age.

So, depending on the audience, I am 23.

2) Work age

When I first started at work, I was advised to tell the kids that I'm older than I actually am. Age is a big component of respect here, so having an older teacher = more respect.

At work, I am 27.

3) Working with children

These kids are all just so cute with their little Disney princess purses, Hello Kitty hair clips, patterned tights, and bows that it's kind of rubbing off.

Not that I'm getting all harajuku or anything, but I might've bought pink fleece socks with little bunnies on them.

And purple bobby pins with small gold bows.

Generally, kid stuff is generally appealing to me more and more.

It's extra cute because she's a ballerina! ...Right? 

I've never been one to scoff at a game of Candyland or calling "No Backsies" or occasionally slamming an opponent/fellow passenger in agood-natured round of backseat jellybeans, but when I catch myself wistfully eyeing the freshly-stocked Hello Kitty stickers...

There might be some digression happening here.

4) Everyone else being really OLD

Somehow me and my coworkers are basically the youngest people in Yeongtong (the district of Suwon where I live).

But seriously.

The other day, I found out how old someone was, and caught myself thinking, "Gee, 26 is pretty young!"

F. M. L.

Someone else tried to pass himself off as 29, when he is, in fact, 33.

Who are you, Bridget Jones? Are you feeling your biological clock ticking down when you realize how unfulfilling your relationship with Mr. Haagen Dazs is?

I digress.

AND, the most appalling incident of how old everyone here is (sorry in advance to any REAL adults reading this blog):

3 weeks ago, I borrowed a friend's Nirvana tank top.

I was in no way trying to be "grunge"-- it's a smiley face for God's sake. Plus, I wore it under a J Crew blazer with Ralph Lauren riding boots. Super NOT grunge.

I digress. 

So I'm at the bar, ordering a beer to bring back to my table, when some guy comes over to me and strikes up a largely one-sided conversation about how awesome Nirvana is. 

He is just going on and on about it and I'm eyeballing the bartender to help me out and just give me the beer already when the guy says, "Maaaaan, I remember exactly where I was when I found out Kurt killed himself. EXACTLY, man. Where were you? Do you like totally remember?"

A) "Kurt"? I wasn't aware the two of you were on a first-name basis. 

B) It's not Pearl Harbor or 9/11. It's not an assassination or a major earthquake. People don't talk about where they were when a rockstar committed suicide. It's not a thing. 

C) How does such a guido-looking guy sound like such a valley girl?

D) Kurt Cobain killed himself on April 5, 1994.

I. Was. FOUR YEARS OLD.

So I said, "Uhhh, I think I was in preschool?"

Stunned silence.

"I mean, he died in 1994, right?"

"Yeah... Wait. So, so now, you're like, like..."

"22."

"OH."

The guy literally backs away from me slowly, with his hands out in front of him like I'm a raccoon he busted living in his garage and says, "I should gooooo."

I, of course, thought he should have left like 5 minutes before that, but of course am now curious.

"How old are you?"

"46."

FORTY. SIX.

Hi, peer of my parents, let's hang out at the bar.

NOT.

In conclusion, I have found myself being legitimately confused about how old I am on more than one occasion. 

FYI, people think it's really weird when you say, "I'm 27. I mean 22. 23? Shoot. Wait, 2011 minus 1989... Yeah, 22."

And... because I have to: 

"What s my Age Again?" --Blink 182

Pack of Lies

Someone, somewhere, once told me that children are great for your self esteem.

"They just love you! And are so cute and funny and just make you so happy!"

Blah blah blah unconditional love, blah blah blah instant self esteem boost, blah blah blah.

I don't know what crack that person was putting in their students' water, but that is the biggest pack of lies I have ever been fed.

Either that, or I teach a particularly sadistic group of 6-year-olds.

It's a toss up.

For example:

Last week, I wore a sweater with an asymmetrical design. One shoulder is, for lack of a better word, tastefully bedazzled, while the other is plain.

One girl asked me, "Teacha, why is your sweater broken?"

Uh... what?

She thought that because the one shoulder didn't have any sparkles on it, that I had somehow torn all of them off on accident.

I may be clumsy and dumb, but seriously, give me a little credit here.

I explained to her that no, I did not mutilate my sweater, but it's supposed to be that way and is, in fact, cool.

She looked at me disapprovingly and said, "No, Teacha. No cool."

A kindergartener told me I have bad taste in clothes. And the rest of them agreed.

ZING.

Then, earlier this week, two of the students were flirting in their own special kindergartner way. Being the mature "adult" that I am, I decide the appropriate way to handle this is to tease them.

"OoOoOoOoh Monica, do you looooove Ricky? Is he your boyfriend?"

Of course they immediately stop flirting and deny any and all accusations of couplehood, but then the conversation spirals out of control and all of the kids start asking if people are girlfriend/boyfriend with all kinds of things.

"Johnny, you girlfriend is... TRASHYCAN? BAHAHAHAHAHA"

"Tony, you girlfriend is CHAIR?!?! HAHAHAHAHA"

Of course they all think it's hilarious and I'm having trouble deciding if it's hysterical or obnoxious so I just let them run with it.

It only takes about 5 minutes for the conversation to take a questionable turn, when they start asking me if I am dating the whiteboard, marker, waterbottle, etc.

Then one girl gets quiet, and says, "Teacha, do you yes boyfriend?"

Problems with this question:

A) How many times have I taught them how to ask "Do you have ________"?

B) How many more times will I have to teach them before they remember?

C) I had to answer, "No, I do not have a boyfriend."

All of the kids immediately stop giggling to look at me in shock.

"Teacha, why you no boyfriend?"

...................... seriously?

"I don't know, Monica, sometimes people don't have a girlfriend or boyfriend, and that's okay."

...Right?

"But Teacha, you are so beautiful! Why you no boyfriend?" "You no want boyfriend?" "Why you no want boyfriend?"

This is just getting cruel.

But then the kicker:

"Teacha, Kelli Teacha always has boyfriend. She has many many boyfriends. Why you no?"

Then everyone got a bad point and we did 3 extra phonics worksheets.

Moral of the story is: kids only rarely make you feel good about yourself. Then they'll inadvertently do something horrible and crush your hopes and dreams.

Oh yeah, and happy Thanksgiving!

More Caffeine, Please!

... But really.

I think I may have a problem.

When I first got here, I started drinking a variety of caffeinated beverages, mostly of the iced coffee variety. Partially because it was just so hot, but also because I was jet lagged out of my mind and kindergartners are hyper little monsters.

By the time the weather became more manageable and I had adjusted to the time schedule (the kids are still lunatics, unfortunately), I tried to wean myself from the near-constant trip of caffeine.

Without success.

And it's been a steady increase in my caffeine intake from there. It's like I've developed a tolerance. Whereas before, one cup of iced coffee would have me jittery and hyper for hours, now... Let's just say the iced Starbucks double shot of espresso drinks are a regular indulgence.

But seriously.

I started to get concerned when one of my kids asked "Teacha, why every day you eat coffee?"

My first problem was of course that she forgot the difference between eating and drinking, but then I realized:

I drink at least one cup of coffee every day.

Before work.

Then one at work, during kindergarten.

And in the relatively unlikely event I don't take a nap during the mid-day break, a Coke Zero or some other caffeinated soft drink.

Then a cup of black tea or coffee in the afternoon.

Ruh roh?

I guess this is the part where I don't mention the energy drinks every Friday night.

And no, I can't figure out how to make this not be upside-down. 

Sorry 'bout it.

So I decided to do my due diligence and look up on Wikipedia how much caffeine it takes to kill someone.

The great news is that if I manage to drink less than 50 cups of coffee in half an hour, I'm in the clear.

Plus, this graphic has basically convinced me that mainlining caffeine is not only socially appropriate, but healthy!

Thank God for the internet.

How to NOT Deal With a Blood Geyser in Class

So today I had my first medical scare with one of the kids.

And of course it was in Jellyfish class, where once they start crying any and all ability to speak English goes out the window.

So today:

We're in the classroom-- All 8 kids are sitting relatively quietly while I have my back turned, writing on the board when all of a sudden they all just start screaming.

SCREAMING.

Like, bloodthirsty, gun-toting-zombie-vampire-is-in-the-classroom screaming.

I immediately turn around and see Andy, one of the cutest little round-faced munchkins ever, just freely bleeding all over the desk, his hands, and his face.

Every other child is on their feet screaming and poor Andy is just sobbing and gushing blood.

I run over, push some of the kids away and tell one to get the tissues, and try to figure out what artery has burst to create this blood GEYSER on his FACE.

What I thought I was dealing with

Turns out it was just a really dramatic nosebleed, but seriously.

WHAT THE HECK.

I think I missed the day in Being an Adult School where they teach you not to totally lose your $#!+ when a kid gets hurt, because I was totally freaking out.

Luckily I had the presence of mind to make everyone sit down and stop screaming, and hold tissues to Andy's face while someone went and got the Angel Teacher (Korean classroom helper).

That woman must have a PhD in staying calm because she swooped in and made him stop crying and cleaned him and the desk up before I even knew she was back.

Moral of the story is: it is probably inappropriate to scream "Oh my God, [insert child's name here]!!!!" in front of a bunch of hysterically screaming kindergarteners unless you're sure that his head has, in fact, exploded.

My bad.

Game of Thrones Reference, LOVE IT!

Every other week, the kindergarten classes practice for phone conversation. Basically, the we call the kids and ask them totally scripted questions so the parents are impressed at how well they're "learning".

I, of course, think this is a great way to learn.

.....Ahem.

I digress.

Jellyfish class and I were practicing for this week's conversation, and it got super Game of Thrones-y really quick.

Q: "What season comes after fall?"

A: "Winter is coming."

The Stark family would've been proud.

P.S. The new season cannot start soon enough.

P.P.S.S. The woman who played Anne Boleyn in The Tudors is going to play Margarery Tyrell. OF COURSE.

P.P.P.S.S.S. Sorry I have no shame in loving historical soap operas.

Mock Trial Skills Really DO Come In Handy

Good news: all of the sleepless nights and chewed-to-the-bone fingernails and stress-induced migraines from 4 years of mock trial were not spent in vain.

I actually used some of my mock SKILLZ at work.

Of course, not at any sort of work related in any way to the law, but I'll take what I can get.

There was a big meeting for prospective parents, and King Teacher wanted to make a video of some of the American teachers talking about how awesome EOS is.

Guess who got picked?

Of course.

So I have to write a one-minute thing about how the English Only System is the coolest, etc etc. No problem.

I have to memorize it.

Memorize a one minute speech? Before breakfast.

Deliver it to a camcorder in an otherwise empty room?

I really wish I could say that was the first time I've done something like that.

So I do the whole thing in three takes, and King Teacher is just astounded.

For the record, the other teacher who had to do the same thing took over ten tries.

Just sayin.

Mock trial representttt

SO Behind

So... Sorry I haven't updated in over a month? I'd love to have a legitimate reason or at least a semi-snarky way to deflect the fact that I've been completely negligent.... But no.

Sorry.

Anyways, the good news is I'm back in business.

Let's start with a health update. I am now fully recovered from what I am calling the Tony Plague (a close relative of the Schneck Plague and the Viv Gaddis Flu).

Remember how he sneezed in my face? Turns out that kid is an extremely efficient transmitter of pathogens because I was not super far from death's door.

Also, in related news, I have a new best friend: the neti pot.

Sorry to be gross, but it's true.

This nasty disease of course coincided with me running out of asthma medication. If you were wondering, viruses and asthma do not mix.

SO. I go to the doctor with one of my coworkers, a Korean man who is supposed to act as a sort of translator. An issue with the medication comes up and the translation gets really weird, so it ends up that we call another -bilingual- coworker and passing the phone between me and the doctor.

Since I'm out of my medicine and have a ridiculous head/chest cold, I basically can't breathe at ALL so they hook me up to this crazy albuterol vaporizer next to a zitty 13-year-old boy playing on his gameboy.

Nothing makes you feel cooler than asthma.... Whomp whomp.

Anyways, the albuterol's side effect is shaking hands. But when you basically mainline the stuff for 15 minutes like I did, I looked like I had Parkinson's. Struggle. And of course I had to teach another class right after that.

Of course.

So the next day, I go into class and am just coughing up a storm. One of the girls gets a really concerned look on her face and says, "TEACHA! Are you going to die?"

Uh... what?

She goes on to explain, "My grandfather, he cough like you, and he cough and sick and cough and you too cough and sick and he die! Teacha die too?!"

Oof.

Then I had to deal with 7 terrified kindergarteners AND the cough.

Thanks, Tony. Thanks.

No Oven = Big Problem

But seriously.

This is a very #whitegirlproblems kind of post, so if you're not into that, get lost.

I need to vent.

I knew before coming here that my kitchen would be sparse, and I was fine with that. Stucco's kitchen had a lot of space, but hardly anything by way of countertops or cupboard space (the essentials, really).

So I thought, gee, I've been kitchen-deprived before, no worries.

WRONG.

MANY WORRIES.

In a vain attempt to head off my desire (need) for an oven, I spent all summer baking up a storm.

Cakes, cookies, bread, anything. I just wanted to slap something in there at 375 and taunt my entire family with the delicious smells for 20 minutes, give or take.

And it worked. Probably a little too well.

(Sorry waistline...)

Unfortunately, I sort of.... overcorrected.

I baked SO much this summer, that now ALL I want is something baked.

RUH. ROH.

Of course, it doesn't help that I stalk foodblogs on the reg and drool over the lucsious deserts (literally? You decide.).

But even without the sweet tooth element, I'm still really hurting for an oven. HOW GOOD does a roast chicken sound? Roasted vegetables? Chicken cacciatore? Enchiladas? (Granted, the whole tortilla thing might present a whole new issue but STILL).

For God's sake, I'd take a tuna casserole.

TUNA. CASSEROLE.

Things are getting desperate around here.

Here's a picture list of things I want:



 

And that's only the stuff I have time for between classes.....

Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it!

Safety First?

If only.

I feel like I spend approximately half of every day cringing, trying not to cry, and going ballistic at the various totally unsafe things the kids are doing.

Two things in particular.

Personally, I know these rules were drilled into my head before I even GOT to kindergarten, so I can't help but wonder how every Korean child I have ever met is so completely and utterly clueless about them.

What basic safety rules, you ask?

1. Running with scissors. 

Correct scissor-holding form. 

What I will probably be dealing with in the near future.

Seriously. It's not that hard. Point down. NO RUNNING. 

But no, of course Dolphin Class can't handle that, they speed walk with the scissors open and ready to cut. I've started giving a minus point and going ballistic on them when they do it, but I may need to dedicate an entire lesson to scissor safety. 

I'm running out of ideas though; I already pantomimed stabbing yourself in the eye, and I kind of figured that would do the trick. 

Maybe they thought I was threatening them? Except that probably would've work though... Guh.

2. Sneezing/coughing EVERYWHERE

Some of you may poo-poo on this category's inclusion in basic safety, but as someone who gets sneezed on regularly and is in the throes of sinus-induced agony, let me assure you this is a matter of life and death. 

For example, last week, Tony sneezed in my face.

IN.

MY. 

FACE.

He lured me over with a nice "Teacha, helpa me please!" I bent down to look at his worksheet and... BOOM.

Disgusting. So. So. Disgusting. 

Anyways, we've gone over and over and over respiratory illness etiquette (see image below for proper sneezing form), but so far they can only do it in practice. 

Personally, I think they just get so overwhelmed when they feel a sneeze coming on that they just surrender to the germ-propelling bodily function and get it all over:

• Their hand
• Their desk
• Their pencil
• My pencil, if they forgot their own
• My face (See above)
• Other students

This is by no means an exhaustive list. 

And their safety infractions are nowhere near covered in this brief list, but I figured the ones that may or may not give me a heart attack every time they happen deserved a mention. 

PS

Did I mention that today marks me being in Korea for one whole MONTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No biggie.

Adventures in Agashi Land

So.

The "Agashis."

First off, let me give a brief disclaimer: I'm not actually sure if it's agashi or adashi, or some other word sort of like that. A brief google search tells me that "agashi" means "lady" so I'm guessing that's the right one. Bear with me if you want to find out why..

The Agashis. There are a lot of them.

And by 'them' I mean super wasted middle-aged to old men.

Oh, hey, is it 8 o'clock? Are you trying to go to the grocery store in peace like a normal person? Agashis.

Are you trying to ride a bus? Agashis.

Buy a latte? Agashis.

Walk the 100 feet home from work? Agashis.

They. Are. EVERYWHERE.

I don't think I included 8 am on the list of places

to find them, but there you have it. 

And generally they're quite harmless.

I was told when I arrived about these charming gentlemen, and was told they are called "Agashis." I now suspect that that's just what they call them because that's what they say when we walk by.

I guess it's the equivalent of a bunch of drunk old guys saying "Laaaaaaadiiiiiiies" whenever you walk by, which is weird, but what are you gonna do.

Anyways, they're mildly annoying but harmless, OR SO I THOUGHT!!!!!!

Dun dun dunnnnn...

Soooo me and some friends went into Seoul for dinner one night, and on the super cozy bus ride back, we were all jammed in randomly throughout the bus next to strangers. My seat mate was some like 30-year-old dude trying to read his graphic novel in peace. 

Ride goes smoothly, until the King of All Agashis boards the bus. 

His suit is crumpled, his comb over in disarray, and he just stumbles up the stairs. He barely makes the top one and falls face first straight at the fare box. The whole bus gasps but he manages to catch himself right before his free nose job.

Good sign #1.

He staggers down the aisle and all kinds of people are leaping out of their seats so he can sit down.

Respecting elderly people is a huuuge part of Korean culture, so that would've happened anyways, but since this guy was hardly in any condition to be breathing, let alone standing, it was a mad rush. 

The guy in the row in front of me manages to engage the guy in a conversation about sitting down but the guy refuses.

It is at this point that I catch the first enormous whiff of soju.

Good sign #2. 

This guy is seriously smelly and is standing directly next to me in the aisle. He's clutching one of the aisle handholds for dear life, but is still swaying like Galloping Gertie. (See video below if you don't get that one. It's a bridge joke. HA!)

Anyways this guy cannot stand up to save his life. He's stumbling all over the place, and I notice that he's no longer talking to the guy in front of me, the one who tried to give up his seat. He's not actually talking at all.

He's singing.

Good sign #3

So, he's singing, and swaying, and smelling like a soju factory. If anyone was wondering, soju smells just like vodka. Distinctive. And unpleasant. 

And don't think for a second that this guy is swaying in time to the music. Nuh uh. This is verge-of-unconciousness swaying. 

This is when I realize-- Oh my God. He's going to hurl. 

He. Is. Going. To. Vomit.

ON ME.

Panic mode commence. 

Literally, I fold my hands in my lap and stare at the clock at the front of the bus and just count to 100 over and over.

Over. And over. Do you know how many times you can count to 100 in 20 minutes? A lot.

The swaying has gotten so bad that the guy is all but in my lap. 

Oh, and did I mention that he's facing me? So by "in my lap" I really mean "his grody old man crotch was swaying perilously near my business". 

YEAH.

After 17 minutes of this nonsense, he actually does fall into the lap of the guy who tried to give him a seat originally, but still refuses to sit. 

Good sign # however many. 

It's at this point that I break my vigil of trying not to punch this guy in the face and manhandle him into a dang chair (Korean culture and all that, it wouldn't have been appropriate) that I finally look up at my friends.

Like the dear, dear friends that they are, they've noticed my predicament. And are giggling madly to themselves about it. 

I, of course, finally realize how absurd this entire situation is and am now simultaneously trying not to wrangle the King of the Agashis and laugh in his 'respectable' old man face. 

Ruh. Roh. 

Finally, the guy next to me ends up getting off the bus and I jump up out of that seat before the Agashi can try to scooch over me to take the window seat. He sits, and tries to get me to sit next to him. 

HECK TO THE NO.

Thank God I don't speak Korean. I just sort of vaguely half-smiled and looked out the other side of the bus. 

The guy's sitting, still smelling, still singing, and now takes out a wad of cash from his breast pocket and starts counting it over and over (53,000 won, if you were wondering). He's mumbling something, which was later translated as "Where are we going? Where am I? How did I get here? This is so weird..."

Which, frankly, is astonishing. He seemed in full control of his mental faculties...............................................

I can't even. Just... Just no. 

Literally I sat being tortured by this crazy person for 45 minutes. 

Longest bus ride ever?

I think so. 

Chuseok!

Happy (very belated) Chuseok, everyone!

Chuseok is Korean Thanksgiving, and also two glorious days off from work.

So, Austin (fellow new teacher) and I decide to get us some culture and go to the Korean Folk Village in Seoul. It's a lot like Colonial Williamsburg, but Korean.

We figured since everyone would be spending the day with their families eating as many songpyeon as is physically possible in 24 hours, we'd have the place to ourselves.

WRONG.

The place was PACKED.

For some reason, learning about and experiencing traditional Korean activities on a day celebrating Korean culture is popular.

Anyways, after an adventure on the Seoul subway system, including (but not limited to) attempting to ask some guy for directions while appeasing a random drunk old guy's curiosity about our involvement in New York (read: none) and me trying to go the wrong way through a ticket turnstile, we get there.

Despite the crowds, it was really nice! We watched some performances and wandered through the reconstructed hanoks (traditional Korean houses). There were also children playing all of the games we attempted to recreate on EOS Chuseok Day, including but not limited to the kiddie launcher.

Those kids were FLYING.

It was a lawsuit waiting to happen, and I have to say I'm glad I wasn't involved. I get nervous just thinking about it...

Anyways there were lots of kids roaming around in hanboks, which was cute but must've been miserable since it was at least 90 degrees out. I was sweating and I was in cotton. And shorts.

There was also a delightful yet creepy plush hanbok-wearing 'mascot' woman running around. Austin and I tried to get a picture with her but for some reason she kept letting the kids cut us.

Was that decision age-appropriate or racist against us pale faces? You decide.

Anywho, after a few hours of meandering, we decide to head back home. With, of course, a slight detour.

A street food detour! My favorite kind...

Austin and I see some bugs for sale and decide we need to nut up and try them. After all, they're just bugs, right?

We get in line (yes, there was a line to buy bug snacks) and are trying to figure out how to order the smaller size when the girls in front of us turn around and offer us one of theirs to try before we commit to an entire dixie cup of our own.

We take the offered bugs, cheers, and eat.

And then try not to vomit.

"We're gonna need a bigger bucket."

They were actually the most disgusting thing I have ever eaten. I have eaten things that I didn't particularly enjoy (dried mini fish with eyes, I'm looking at you), or even things that I actively disliked.

But nothing. NOTHING. Has ever made me straight up gag before.

Except these babies:

I'm still not sure why that one came as such a shock.

Anyways, it turns out they're boiled silk worm larvae.

I do not recommend them.

To anyone. Under any circumstances.

So as we're trying not to ralph in the middle of a crowded street and maintain some shred of dignity by thanking the girls, the entire street (including the bug vendor-- scratch that-- ESPECIALLY the bug vendor) is just busting a gut.

Thanks for the understanding, guys, really, thanks.

So... sorry there's no real conclusion to this post, but I'm feeling kind of nauseous. Mostly sidetracked, but enough nauseous that I feel comfortable blaming in on that.

Blech.

Guilty Pleasure

Yelling at the kids.

I know, I know, yelling isn't the best way to solve problems, blahblahblah.

And I agree.

And so do my vocal chords (sorryyyy).

But sometimes you just have to yell.

When that absolute necessity occurs, I'm not saying saying I don't like it.

And it's not that I take a perverse pleasure in shouting myself silly at a bunch of 6-year-olds, it's not that I like going on some huge power trip, and it's not that I need to prove whose jungle it really is out there, but I get to say the FUNNIEST things.

But seriously.

The first thing I yell is always the thing they're doing wrong: Sit down! No hitting! No Korean! No hokey pokey during reading time! etc, etc.

But after that, it's fair game. They don't really ever know what I'm talking about, and once I raise my voice they're cowed pretty quickly and just nod at me, so usually I just say the most absurd thing that comes to mind.

I know this might sound terrible, but they don't have any idea what I'm saying, so I get some leeway. Right?

Like for flopping-on-the-ground-kid (see previous post), I think I said something along the lines of "epileptic electric eel that licked a light socket."

Another kid kept jumping from his seat, and he was "a kangaroo on a pincushion."

And another is a running joke in my classroom, and it's "baby points". Whenever someone acts like a baby-- whines, fake cries, sucks their thumb, deliberately writes or draws really sloppily- they get a baby point tallied up next to their "good point" and "bad point'" count and I call them "Baby [name]" for the rest of class. 

When the baby point is given, I say "stop being a baby!" then usually something about diapers or.... 

Nope, it's always diapers. And by diapers, I of course mean poopy diapers. 

So really, what's the harm, right? I get to make a poop joke, they be quiet/sit down/stop whining. 

We all win! Right? 

If you've taken a psychology of teaching or education course, please wait until my year is over to tell me exactly how I am screwing these kids up. Thanks!

Ps: Never. Ever. Google image search "poopy diaper". Seriously. There's a reason there's no picture in that part of the post, and that reason may or may not be related to me throwing up in my mouth.

PPSS: To everyone who just went and google image searched poopy diaper: I told you so.

Shenanigans

Ruh roh, two weeks since my last post. If it makes it any better, I have a list of things I've been meaning to write about....

But really I'm just exhausted. Who would've thought that kindergartners would have so much energy? Oh wait...

Anyways, general impressions of teaching so far as I round out my first month:

I still have no idea what I'm doing.

But the good news is I'm getting more and more practiced at pretending I do, and people seemed to be partially fooled. Gotcha!

In all seriousness, I do think things are going well so far. My manager says that if King Teacher (the principal) doesn't tell you you're bad, you're doing well, so fingers crossed for that.

Although if my zaniest antics keep taking place EXACTLY when King Teacher is watching, we might have a problem. Like last Friday, I taught the kids the hokey pokey. Seems simple enough, but since they don't exactly know their rights from their lefts it was a little challenging.

Quote of the day: "Teacher, what is... 'hokey... pokey'?"

Anyways, we're doing the hokey pokey and we get to the part where you put your whole body in and "shake it all about" when King Teacher looks in. It may or may not have looked like I was encouraging the children to make fun of grand mal seizures.

So there's that.

And yesterday I was gesturing while holding the white board marker and it flung across the room. Guess who saw?

King Teacher. Of course.

And it's not only me who seems to pull out the big guns when K.T. comes around-- today, one of my elementary students, William, was being especially rowdy. He always sits somehow wrong- one foot on his knee, legs crossed in the seat, one time I caught him with his feet on the table whenever my back was turned.

Well today I walk in, set down my basket, and pull out the attendance sheet. Somehow in those maybe 10 seconds, he flings himself from his seat entirely and is writhing around on the floor when I look up.

Obviously the second I look up I start yelling, and as I'm yelling at William the entire class goes silent and looks at the door.

Oh no. Please, anything but:

The inevitable. King Teacher. He all but did the "I'm watching you" fingers and eyes hand gesture at William before he walked away.

Meet the Parents reference-- love it!

Yay for looking incompetent!

Luckily the rest of that particular class went really well and when he came back the students were all sitting nicely, raising their hands, and speaking in complete sentences, so when he came back I looked a little less foolish.

The things I consider victories these days...

Teaching: First Impressions

I have no idea what I'm doing.

At all.

I speak English, so I at least have that part pretty much covered, but other than that I'm faking it, hopefully until I make it. Which is hopefully pretty soon.

My main class, Dolphin, is pretty legit. We have class from 9:30-1:40, which includes lunch and playtime. Usually we do some phonics lessons, practice conversation, do some sort of coloring/art activity.

And in my case, a lot of yelling.

The school places a lot of value on the kids being, for lack of a better word, trained to sit quietly. Unfortunately, the kids have other plans. I feel bad trying to force them to sit all day long, since they're only 6 years old, but seriously. I feel like 10 minutes at a time isn't asking too much.

I think one of the kids legitimately has ADHD, poor guy. They're supposed to get a bad point whenever they get out of their seat, but this kid would literally be expelled if I kept track of all of his minus points. My new strategy is to do some sort of activity in between each sitting-down thing.

Worksheet done?

Head, shoulders, knees and toes!

Read the story?

Ants in the pants dance!

Wrote 2 sentences?

Jumping jack race!

So far (the two days I've tried it) it seems to be working, let's see if Dolphin class can keep the good train rolling.

This week my strategy is going to combine the above with shameless bribes. If the whole class can go one full day without a SINGLE bad point, they'll get.... something. I haven't decided yet. I thought candy or ice cream, but the last thing those maniacs need is sugar.

Suggestions are welcome.

Lately, their phonics lessons have been WAAAY too easy for them. The last three have been about matchign upper case and lower case letters. Seriously?

So I make them do those really quickly then I try to teach them to speak in full sentences. I've been shamelessly taking worksheets and lesson plans from other classes, looking stuff up online, and generally just making it up as I go. So far, they've been soaking up everything I give them like psycho little sponges, fingers crossed it's not a fluke, right?

Also, my drawing skills need to improve. I have an impressive range of stick-man pictures, but apparently there's some cultural thing that makes stick figures the funniest thing on earth, so the kids crack up every time I try to draw anything. Maybe I should just print out pictures of what I'll need before every class? Sorry trees...

I only wish mine were this good...

Funny story-- we were matching letters with pictures of words that started with that letter, and one of the problems was F---football.

And none of them knew what a football was. Or what football (the sport) is.

Ruh roh.

I ended up acting out a quarterback throwing, tackling, and a touchdown... Mostly just jumping and shouting and an intricate endzone dance. The kids might be more confused than before, but at least they thought it was funny?

I like to think they're laughing with me.

They are, right? RIGHT???

Oh, and did I mention that the principle wanders the halls and watches classes through the windows? If he ever happens to pop in during one of my charades sessions, I'll probably be institutionalized.

Kelli Teacher's Goodbye Dinner

So, the day finally came when the teacher I'm replacing, Kelli, left to go back to America. That in and of itself is sad; Kelli's really awesome, but the silver lining is that the school took us out to a FEAST.

It was a traditional korean bbq. We took off our shoes at the door and sat of the floor and everything! The table had a straight up grill in the middle, with a grate over hot coals and everything.

We had a really spicy hotpot tofu and mushroom soup, an ice beef soup (by ice soup, I mean soup that was really cold and had shaved ice in it-- strange), really spicy/authentic kimchi, a salad, a fantastic spicy red pepper paste, marinated onions, and...

THE MEAT!

I didn't really eat red meat in the States, but in Korea that would mean I would starve.

I plan on not eating red meat once I get back, but if this meal was any indication that is going to be very difficult.

Because the food. Was. SO. SO. SO. Good!

We had a few different cuts of meat, including streaky pork belly (glorified bacon), some sort of beef, beef short ribs, and some other kind of pork. We grilled one kind of meat at a time, cut it with scissors (apparently how they roll here), and FEASTED.

The traditional way to eat it is to make a sort of lettuce wrap, with rice, meat, onions, red pepper sauce, and onions.. I did that for the first two, but much more lettuce than that and I would've died, so I pretty much just shoveled it right on into my mouth.

I took a picture, of course, but until I get my internet set up in my apartment and the power-transformer thing figured out, you'll just have to use your imagination. *NOTE: Now there are pictures!

Did I mention that the whole thing was like $15 a person?

Did I also mention that we didn't have to pay for it??

Thaaaaank you work!

Ps Now I'm hungry just thinking about it... Good thing the giant steamed pork bun ($1, btw--score) is on my way home!

Happy Chuseok!

Korean Thanksgiving, that is.

The actual holiday is tomorrow, but we celebrated it at school on Thursday with another event day. All of the kids came to school in their hanboks, traditional Korean dresses, and were even more mind-bogglingly cute than before.

The bad news is, us teachers had to wear them too... They're really pretty, generally, but the whole point of them is to make the wearer look morbidly obese. Sweeet. It's basically a three-part outfit. The first is a white shift dress with a lot of fluff in the bottom to get that sweet triangle look we're going for. The next is a tank-top dress, generally embroidered or otherwise embellished. The last is a sort of cropped jacket, long sleeves, usually in a different color than the dress part. It ties in the front with a one-loop bow that I could not for the life of me figure out... Embarrassing.

There were a bunch of activities related to Chuseok, including an extremely dangerous and confusing game called Noeltwiggi that basically involves launching kids off a seesaw; jaegichiggi, basically hackie sack; some game that involved rolling a hoop; and another that basically had the kids slamming pieces of paper together... None of the teachers really understood what was going on there.

Which activity did I have the pleasure of being in charge of? GUESS.

Of course the kid launcher. Me and one of the Korean teachers were supposed to demonstrate, but of course I've never played this death trap of a game before so it probably just made the kids even more confused than before. That, and I screamed like a little girl the first time we got it to work because I was flying through the air in this ridiculous purple and pink monstrosity of a hanbok...

At least the kids thought it was funny?

At the end of the day, we got a bunch of songpyeon, the traditional Chuseok rice cake. Apparently each Korean holiday has its own traditional rice cake. Songpyeon come in a whole bunch of colors and are filled with sesame seeds. I'm still skeptical about the rice cake part-- it's really chewy and kind of sticky-- but the sesame seeds were reaaaally yummy.

They really do like them, I swear.

I made the mistake of going to Homeplus yesterday (basically a superstore-- groceries, clothes, electronics, home goods, jewelry... everything you could ever want in a single five story building)... OOF. Imagine a city of a million people going to the one biggest store two days before thanksgiving. That's what I unwittingly walked into.

The point of that tangent was there was an actual MOUNTAIN of songpyeon at Home Plus. Seriously, there was a woman standing next to it, weighing them and giving them out to people and the tower of delicious was taller than she was.

Insanity.

We also got a gift from work for Chuseok. The principal, King Teacher, calls us all into his office, and we're all like what on earth is happening right now?? But then he gives us these giant gifts, actually like 2 ft x 3 ft for Chuseok. We all thought it was going to be food so were really stoked, but then we opened it...

It was like a hygiene gift set. 2 soaps, 2 shampoos, 1 "romantic scent" body wash, and SEVEN tubes of toothpaste, including one "red" flavor (not cinnamon, the jury's still out on what "red" flavor means) and one green tea flavor.

Hopefully King Teacher isn't trying to give us all a hint?? I shower every day, I promise...

Indian Camp-- still behind

[NOTE: My parents just informed me that I have two Indian Camp blog entries... Oops? I would say that's how traumatic it was, but really I'm just a space cadet. Sue me.]

I've been here for two weeks and am already somehow a week behind. Aaaaaah!

I'll do my best to catch up. Right now. During a monsoon while I'm trapped in a coffee shop.

Last Saturday was Indian Camp Day. For the past two weeks, all of the kids have been learning about Indians (Native Americans-- it's by no means the most PC event). Teepees, moccasins, buffalos... All of the really subtle and nuanced things about Native American culture, of course.

Anyways, on Saturday, everyone comes in from 1-9 pm and does N.A. themed activities. Hunting, fishing, shirt-decorating, and an "Indian Rain Dance." Please don't guess which one I was a part of...

Of course it was the dance.

What, might you ask, was the soundtrack to our culturally sensitive respectful rendering of Native American religious practices?

"Why is the red man red" from Peter Pan.

OOF.

The good news is that the kids loved it, the bad news is that it was SUPER hot and I was sweating like a maniac. Did I mention that me and the other American teachers were all out till 4 the night before? Needless to say, I've seen better days.

We all wore Indian costumes too... Mine was a headband with felt feathers, a vest with yarn tassels and felt chevrons, as well as a giant felt leaf collar one of the Korean administrators insisted I wear... Look at my Facebook pictures and laugh if you are so inclined. I can't laugh at it... Not yet, anyways. Still too traumatized.

The redeeming part of all of this was that the school fed us fried chicken and beer afterwards, then we went out, of course in our full Indian costumes. And I thought we got stared at a lot just because we were white...

Title of the Blog Clarification

Okay, so a lot of people have been asking me about the title of the blog... If you've talked to me in person in the last like 6 months, you'll know that I say "ruh roh" instead of "uh oh" a lot. Probably too much for someone attempting to pretend to be an adult, but whatever.

That comes from the classic cartoon, Scooby Doo. As you may or many not remember, Scooby Doo adds random R's to words all the time. He even calls himself "Rooby Doo" and his best friend "Raggy".

So, no, it is not a racist Asians-can't-speak-English thing. It's a throwback to a children's show, a RUH-ROH-I don't-speak-any-Korean-but-am-somehow-supposed-to-get-around-in-Korea-thing.

Just to clarify! And for your enjoyment:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_C2HJvtRDY

Night Life! No Kareoke So Far

Thank God for that.

But I guess the most notable thing about the nightlife here is how LATE we go out. If we go to the first bar of the night at midnight we'll basically be alone for 1/2 hour. Which then of course means we're out until about 4 am, though I've been told that 5 isn't unusual. Ruh Roh!

The bar we seem to go to a lot is NOW!! Bar. It's pretty close to all of our apartments (my hotel) and a lot of expats seem to congregate there, plus a few brave Koreans willing to learn some English. It's essentially a college bar (or what people tell me is a typical college bar, thanks for nothing Macadoos). There are electronic darts, foosball, and a pool table.

Typical Now Bar shenanigans

But the best part is how cheap all of the drinks are! A beer (not anything fancy, but still) is two dollars, and a soju cocktail (essentially Korean grain available in a variety of colors) is $4. One soju cocktail is generally all that you'll need for a moderate night, so I'm pretty stoked about that.

Also awesome is the owner, Mrs. C. She knows some English and acts rather maternally towards the regulars (the EOS teachers obviously falling into that category). Plus, the DJ's computer is right out in the open so we can put on music we like-- sweet!

Another bar that I've been to only once but is apparently a top destination for our little group is Pavex, essentially a basement with a bar and dancefloor. Chi Psi latenight, anyone? We went there Friday night (right before Indian Camp, better choices have been made), but the bartender there is this really sweet woman who didn't know what a rum and coke was, but showed me various bottles until we figured one out that would work.

Another teacher, Austin (she's only been here for two weeks, so we're kind of the new kids togther), and I did these incredible fire shots. We figured they'd be standard, some small flames but nothing too serious.

WRONG.

First of all, they were double shots. Then, the bartender was like, Back up. We took half a step. BACK UP. He made us stand halfway across the bar before lighting the shots and somehow basically blowing fire across the bar. We probably should've backed up a little more, because we all felt the heat of the flames on our legs. Awesome! And a little scary, but mostly AWESOME!

I'll keep you posted as to the kareoke situation, I'm hoping to avoid that as long as possible. The others might not know it yet, but they want to avoid me singing in public too... Ruh Roh.

Indian Camp

I've managed to encounter one of the school's infamous "event days", where the kids and staff all come in on a Saturday (rude) for some sort of themed day of activities.

This past saturday was "Indian Day". And by Indian, they definitely meant Native American, much to the confusion of the kids, since there are a couple of Indian (subcontinent) students at the school. The activities and vocabulary stuff they learned would have made any teacher in America wince, if not gear up for a racism lawsuit. There was "hunting", a few teepees, as well as an "Indian dance", set to the oh-so-politically correct "Why is the red man red?" from Peter Pan... My job was to man the bracelet station. Basically, the kids picked two colors of yarn, then twisted them together and I had to tie them. The idea was for them to be "health" bracelets, but most of the classes just stared at me totally clueless as I was trying to explain it. Oops? We were set up in this little tent, which was crazy hot, even on top of the already crazy hot day. Ughhh.

Oh, did I mention we had to wear costumes? I made a shirt out of brown paper bag, felt, and a hot glue gun. I drew a salmon on the one side and wrote "EOS Indian Camp" on the other, EOS being the name of the school.

Throughout the ENTIRE DAY there was this song playing. Over. And. Over.

"Going camping, going camping, camping out under the stars (x2). We're taking our gear and food along, camping out under the stars. We're making a cheer and singing a song, camping out under the stars!" Repeat times infinity. And of course there's a dance to go with it... Of course.

In any case, we made it through the day (touch and go), and when it was time to leave, all of the Dolphin students were crying because it was Kelli's last day. One of them (the most ADD child probably in the universe) said, "Kelli Teacher, after today, no more meeting?" And then she started bawling, which set off all the kids and an adorable group hug. I almost cried too just watching. One of the girls was crying so much she got embarassed and put her face in the corner and refused to look at anyone.

When the parents came to pick up their kids, they were still crying or showing signs of having just cried, and of course that's the exact moment I got to meet most of their parents. Obviously they knew what was happening but it was awkward to try to meet them while they're trying to comfort their children... Hopefully my second meeting with them will be a little better....

After Indian Camp ended, the English teachers plus my co-teacher (Korean counterpart) went out in full Indian Costume, much to the amusement/astonishment of the other people at the bar. But the nightlife here is another post in and of itself...

Observation Period

So, I haven't actually started teaching yet. It sure feels like I'm working already, but in fact I don't officially start until tomorrow! I'm at the tail end of my mandatory observation period. Each day I get a  schedule of classes to observe, so I can get oriented and learn the routines and rules before they throw me into the deep end (though with some classes it could be considered more of a shark tank, yikes). I've mostly been shadowing Kelli because I'll be taking over her classes.

The morning is dedicated to kindergarden, and th afternoon is elementary. Each teacher has a kindergarden homeroom that they teach the whole morning in English except for one hour where they have a Korean teacher. During that hour, I'll go to the Korean teacher's respective homeroom and (attepmt to) teach them English. We eat lunch in the classroom with the kids (for details on the food, read my last post, and probably many more to come), which can be challenging. They have to eat all of their food, but like you would expect of any kindergarden class, getting them to stop talking long enough to actually eat is pretty tricky. Plus not everyone likes all of the food... I'm just hoping to avoid bargaining with the kids about how much they eat.

One really weird thing a lot of the kids do at lunch is dip their kimchi into their water because it's too spicy. That in and of itself makes sense, but then they drink the water with all the spicy stuff in it! But that's not too spicy, and the kids actually laughed at me when I suggested it: "Teacher, water no spicy! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEE"

Shoot me for trying to make sense of those little maniacs.

My primary class is Dolphin, seven cute little kids. Or so I thought. They are supposed to be the second highest level in terms of English abilities, but they are a pretty rowdy bunch so I'm not sure if thy're quite there yet.

The rules are basically as follows: listen to teacher, no running, and NO KOREAN. The third is obviously the hardest for them to follow, but for the most part they're pretty good about it. Sometimes I hear a kid speaking Korean and I want to scold them but then I realize they're explaining something to another kid so it's okay.

Each day there is a class leader who can give (and take away) "bad points" for kids caught breaking any of these rules. I can also give out points (both "good" and "bad"), and at the end of the day we tally their count and they get stickers for the net "good points" of the day. I'm already stocked up on some really cute stickers, including one of a pig in a chef's hat. Hilarious! And adorable!

If any kid gets three "bad points" in one day, the threat is that they'll get sent to King Teacher, the CEO of the school. Kelli, my predecessor, told me she's never actually sent anyone there but the threat is sufficiently scary that they behave with a fear of God once King Teacher's name is invoked.

Anyways, the kids are really cute and for the most part very smart and eager to learn. Obviously not every kid is the same in terms of ability, but Dolphin is more even than some of the other classes I've observed in the past few days.

Wish me luck, I'm definitely going to need it!!

First Post and I'm Already Behind...

Typical.

Well, as you might have guessed by the lack of invitiation to my funeral, I made it! The flight was relatively uneventful, especially since I forgot my iPod at home! Aaaargh. I have since been informed that my brother claimed it for himself before I even got on the plane. Thanks, Nick, appreciate the support.

When I landed I got picked up by a man who I thought was associated with the school where I teach, but it turns out he was just some random cab driver instructed to pick me up. That would probably explain why he wasn't interested/able to talk to me...

He takes me to the school, where Patrick (a guy who DOES actually work for the school) meets me and gives me some food --ham and egg sandwich?-- and takes me to the hotel where I'll be staying until later this week.

The next day is my mandatory health check, so I get picked up again, this time in a school bus, and taken to the hospital. The clinic was a fairly large room with lots of smaller rooms around the perimeter, each one containing a different station. They couldn't communicate with me enough to explain what each room was, but "You, four!" got me to the right place, and then when a woman came at me with a needle/cup/blood pressure cuff, I'd figure out I was in the blood test/urine test/blood pressure measuring room.

Throughout the entire thing I was wearing Korean hostpial clothes, which was a shirt and pants, both made out of heavy pink cloth. The changing area was like a locker room, with other people getting in and out of their street clothes, which was awkward but I guess I made it through relatively unscathed.

Then I was schlepped (however you spell that) back to the school in time for lunch. The kids all get served first, then the teachers make their way upstairs to the kitchen to get their own food. I was worried about the prospect of eating hot lunch every day, but it's all Korean food made right there by the cook, so most of it is pretty good. A few notable items I've had so far include, of course, kimchi, dried seaweed with sesame, seaweed soup, spicy fried tofu, spicy squid with pickled veggies, and tiny dried anchovies (not my favorite...).

There are lots of American foods available here, like Pringles, goldfish, peanut butter, coca cola... But a lot of the time buying food is a total shot in the dark for me. A lot of the packaging has pictures on it, but those aren't always the most helpful. I got some snack cracker type thing yesterday that I thought would be spicy but actually tasted a lot like those honey sesame sticks you can get at Trader Joe's-- Yum! I also got lucky and the triangle thing I got for dinner ended up being a giant sushi-like thing with tuna in the center! Score... Did I mention it was enough for a meal and cost ONE DOLLAR?

Awesome.

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