School Festival

In Korean public schools, it seems classes and whole days of classes are canceled as often as not. Last week, of the sixteen classes I normally teach at my primary school, I taught a total of six. Fine with me, though I wish that I had a private office to sit in during those canceled classes, instead of a desk in the room where the teachers and administrators come together in a cacophonous mess of 70 decibel Korean every ten minutes.

Anyway, Friday was School Festival Day, and the classes were gearing up for it all week, and even the week before. Each class got a five minute slot in which to perform, usually some sort of song and dance.

There were trucks in the parking lot of school selling cotton candy in cups and various plastic, flower bouquet-like contraptions. Many of the students were done-up in there traditional Korean best make-up and dresses. The librarian had been cutting out giant Korean characters for days. Anticipation was in the air!


The mothers, and their cameras, came out in hordes!



Two of my favorite students dressed up as bride and groom to play emcee.


One of the cutest little girls I've ever seen, performing a song with her first grade class.


Deep concentration was required by all. (don't think about cookies.... don't think about cookies....)


The whole thing was a giant whirl of colors!


This guy, who was clearly someone important, based on the greeting he got from the principal (whose ear is on the right), did what many high-status Korean men do -- ignored the hundreds of people behind him (and the zoom button, apparently) to get what he wanted.


One of my sixth grade classes performed a lovely enactment of "The Tortoise and the Hare" (in English), including this fight scene. I edited the script. Where I suggested that "the lesson of the story is..." should be maybe "the moral of the story is..." the final line of the play was "Maybe the moral of the story is..." Oh well, they like humility here. Maybe telling your elders what the moral of a story is would be presumptuous.

Then, unfortunately, the batteries in my camera died, so I have no pictures for you of the very cutest student of all, the amazing dance of Korean dragons to traditional Korean music, or the animated show my fifth grade class put on using 24 sketch pads held together in a giant square. Next time, charge the batteries the night before a big event!

It was a very entertaining afternoon. It was really fun to see the students so excited and to meet some (though too few) of their mothers. On the down side, it was followed by dinner at a grill-your-own-pig-meat-at-the-table restaurant, so we got home at 7:00 hungry, annoyed, and smelling like burnt pig flesh. But that's nothing that a change of clothes, a big bowl of popcorn, and an in bed screening of Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? can't cure.

School Opening Day

It's not what it sounds like.... Dogye Elementary School seems to have been open since at least the Korean War (1950 - '53). Instead, yesterday our school was "open" to teachers and administrators from all around Dogye Eub (an administrative region somewhat smaller than a county).

For days, everyone at school had been freaking out making artsy name tags, cleaning every last shoe-locker and polishing every last trophy. When we arrived yesterday, it felt more like we were walking into a sales convention or wedding reception than our school.


The entrance to the gymnasium.


Inside the gymnasium were scores of displays of students' artwork and stories, and teachers' methods, like the games we use in English class.


There were also a couple of banners (Koreans love banners). We were surprised to see that this one featured Melanie! And no, that's not a prison behind her. Those are the gym's offices.


After lunch, Kim Sun and I taught a demonstration class for about twenty other teachers and the elementary school supervisor for Samcheok County. Kim Sun - who just finished her "English Education Degree" - had planned this down to the last word (even my words), and was visibly nervous before we started. She's actually a great English teacher, and with her more than any other Korean teacher, we have a good natural dynamic in the classroom - both letting the other teach in their style and being there to support the other on pronunciation or complex directions or whatever. But yesterday she was just putting on a show, and had me relegated me to the talking stooge. In all of the feedback I heard, from Koreans and foreigners alike, was that I should have more of a role in the class. I don't know why Kim Sun set up that class the way she did - to show off, I suppose, but she is actually the one co-teacher I work with that doesn't need to hear that I should have more of a role in class... several of my other teachers really do need to hear that. Oh well. Hopefully she impressed whomever she was trying to impress.


After the demo class, we went into the freezing cold gymnasium, and Chantel (one of the three other foreigners who lives in Dogye) was asked to give a speech about her impressions of the demo class, the school, teaching in Korea and Korea in general. No need, apparently, for preparation, or for a translator. I would guess that less than 10% of the audience understood more than 10% of what she said.


Nevertheless, here she is trying to take the task seriously.


And here are the other foreigners trying not to laugh at her attribution of the children's good behavior to their nutritious lunches.


After two hours of not understanding anything in the gymnasium, we had had enough and scurried away to this restaurant for an awesome dinner. All of that, including drinks, for 8,500 won each (US$6.36).


And a bunch of happy campers after a good meal.

Wait... No... Not Quite Moving Day Yet

It seems I blogged a bit too soon when I said that today was moving day.

My mistake was a common one for westerners in Korea. I assumed that plans in Korea are similar to commitments as we make them at home. That, of course, is silly. Decisions in Korea seem to be made hours, if not minutes, before important actions. Discussions and negotiations seem to be replaced by directives from above. Logic and responsibility are thrown out the window. And loud, raucous discussion is needed to sort anything that is even a hair's width outside of standard operating procedure.

Two hours before the moving was scheduled to begin we were informed that the school staff that we had been told would be helping us "with our burdens" was saying it wasn't their responsibility. That and because of the size of the refrigerator and the absence of an elevator in our new building, we would need to rent a large truck that could move the refrigerator through the large windows that are on the side of all Korean apartments. And that to operate the truck, we would need to hire two movers. So the cost will actually be 250,000 won ($173).

Following our insistance that the payment wasn't our responsibility, there was a tremendous amount of discussion, some with us, a lot without us, and finally we were told that we'd actually be moving tomorrow morning. That #4 will come to our apartment at 9:00 and that the question of cost will be settled later.

Will there be new surprises in the 18 hours before we move? It would be quite out of the mold if there weren't...

Moving Day

After two months of expressing our desire to move closer to our school - to our school's administration, to the Samcheok County Education Office, to the Gangwondo EPIK Office, and finally to the head of education in Gangwondo - it's time to move from our old apartment in the 60,000 person seaside town of Samcheok to our new apartment in the 4,000 person mountain town of Dogye.

Last week we saw the apartment, which is roughly half the size and twice as old as the one we live in now. But instead of leaving at 7:40 to take an expensive, nauseating bus ride to get to school, we'll leave at 8:45 and walk down the street, and no amount of space can make up for that.

They keep telling us that the roads are going to be icy and they hope we won't hurt ourselves, and that the boiler has to stay on all the time or it will freeze and explode, and that if we are uncomfortable, they can't help us move again. Apparently, we are yet to convince them that we understand and made our decision conscoiusly. I don't think we've told them that we have both lived through Colorado winters in towns over 8,000 feet; maybe that would've helped. But after another round of what-you-might-not-like, and us agreeing to pay 70,000 won (US$48) for the move (they originally said we'd have to pay 600,000!), they expressed their satisfaction with us at their school, and we all left happy.

Monday we were told that Wednesday was moving day (I had assumed Sunday, so Wednesday is just fine with me), and yesterday we were taken to HomePlus, the local department store, to outfit our new kitchen (no more Teflon and aluminum cookware - yeah!).

Last night we frantically packed all our belongings back into the two suitcases each we brought them here in, plus a couple boxes for what we've already accumulated here. After our classes this morning (and a Dell technician coming to replace my hard drive -- busy day of many transitions), we figure the biggest men at the school will come help us get all our stuff and all the furniture 40km up the mountains to Dogye. How that will happen in a "big rental car" is so far unclear, but we just have to keep trusting and hoping that everything will work out. Speaking of which...

In our meeting on Monday, they asked if were going home for winter break (our contracts stipulate a three week vacation, which was the primary factor in choosing these positions). When I said we wanted to meet my family somewhere, they responded that right now is not a good time for booking travel (with the won's weakness there isn't a good time), but that they would tell us the dates soon, once they decided if "English Camp" would be one or three weeks. Yesterday they said it was to be one week. Which might mean that the other five weeks of vacation time are ours to be in a more hospitable place. It's too early to say for sure yet, but if true, that would more than make up for the trouble we've had so far.

School Meetings & Loving Kindness

The administration at our school decided yesterday that we ought to be present for weekly meetings. I think these sorts of meetings, all the teachers and most of the admin, 4:30 - 5:00 on Monday afternoons, are quite common in Korean public schools, and if memory serves, I think it was stipulated in our Gangwon-do EPIK contracts that we must attend staff meetings. We had been excused from them for the last few weeks though, presumably on the grounds that we couldn't understand anything that was said during them, but I think the actual cause was a lack of chairs in the teachers' room, since the onus for reintroducing us seemed to be the delivery of two new chairs to the teachers' room.

So what do you do in a 30 minute meeting when you can't understand anything that's said? Probably much the same things you do in a 30 minute meeting when you can understand everything that's said.

I studied Korean fashion a bit. The three administrators sitting in front of us (#'s 1, 2 and 3, naturally) were wearing ties that were, respectively, pink with a red-white-green candy cane pattern, peach with a thick plaid pattern that could put my 1990's flannel shirts to shame, and purple with what seemed to be liberally applied glitter all over it.

After the fashion inquiry, I noticed there were exactly the same number of teachers wearing glasses and not wearing glasses, I memorized the days the week from the agenda (il, wul, hwa, su, mog, geum, to), and then did some loving-kindness meditation. This is something I learned in Vipassana courses as metta meditation, and had fallen out of the habit of doing since I last left Korea, but having come back to it, I just have to share it with you... it is almost magically powerful.

I simply look at a person and think some variant of 'we are of the same source, I feel deep love and compassion for you and wish for blessings in your life.' At the same time, I try to energetically open my heart to the person, which may sound pretty woowoo, but I suspect if you try it, you'll see that it's not so strange or difficult. When I do this, I notice a number of things, first I do feel a deep love for and connection with the individual I'm focused on, secondly I feel a deep peace and happiness come over me (The first time I did this was on a subway in Korea 2.5 years ago. I remember thinking that I had somehow cheated the emotional circuitry in my brain, because it couldn't possibly be that easy to be so deeply happy). Finally, I also notice that the body language of those surrounding me frequently opens toward me, probably as a result of changes in my body language, though I'm not yet ready to rule out a direct-mental communication that tips people off to my loving intentions. And if that sounds a lot woowoo, well sure, fine. But take fifteen seconds during your next meeting and try this, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised with the results.

Best Fire Escape Ever!

If you had to get ninety kindergarteners out of a smokey, burning building, would you rather they all run down some steep, rusted, iron stairway, or slide down a colorful plastic twirly slide? Brilliant.

The Teachers Begin to Teach (Two Weeks In)

We've started teaching this week. Melanie and I have very different teaching routines. I'm working with three Korean teachers for 5th and 6th grade and will be spending four hours a week with each class; Melanie is working with eleven Korean teachers for 1st through 4th grade, plus an after school class for the "fool students" and spends one hour a week with each class. And I go to a different, very rural school on Tuesdays, where I'll have classes with students numbering in the mid-single-digits, as opposed to the classes of 37 I have here.

Right now, I'm feeling frustrated that every day I finish my classes by lunch, at 12:30, and must stay at school until 5. What I wouldn't give for a private office! On the other hand, I am sitting in the teachers' room now, blogging, so I suppose I don't have it too bad.

As much as I'd like to generalize, the range of personalities is huge - with with students, with teachers and with other foreigners. Students from yelling-over-me-introducing-myself to the cutest, sweetest kids I've ever met; teachers from bossy (in Korean) to sitting-aside-videotaping-Melanie-teaching to actual constructive co-teaching that may even evolve into co-lesson planning in the coming months; foreigners from strait-as-an-arrow, why-did-you-leave-your-corporate-job to oh-my, do-you-always-sweat-so-profusely, I-see-why-you-married-a-Philipino, I-doubt-you-could-function-in-US-society.

Well, having now set a personal best for concentration of hyphens in a paragraph, I'm going to get back to the only book left from those I brought, The Bible in Modern English. It's a slow read.

Day 1

We just got home from our first day at Dogye Elementary School. Two teachers picked us up at 8:00 - a 24 year old who is our "translator" (the only one at the school who speaks much of any English, highly broken though it is) and a woman who seems to be the matriarch of the school and has been teaching there longer than our translator has been alive.

After the (beautiful) 40 minute (sigh) drive to school, we were introduced to "Head Master", whom we met (very briefly) our first night here, drunk in the streets (him, not us, yet). After some chit-chat (really, gesticulation is more accurate) with him, #2 - the Vice Principal, and #3 - who we're calling "Head Teacher", but are not sure exactly what title to bestow upon him (they're very big on titles here, and very curious about the corresponding English) we were steered toward a gymnasium containing 400 Korean munchkins. "Introduce." Really? In gesture? Lots of ooh-ing and ah-ing, some words from Head Master, what appeared to be the national anthem (I don't need to cover my heart, right? Because that would be weird, right?), and several songs sung by the students and conducted by our translator, we were brought up to a microphone on stage. "Anyeong hasaeo. Hello. Good morning. My name is Michael. It's nice to meet you." I had them through good morning. The rest went right in one ear and out the other. A couple more songs, lots of talking from #3, and it's back to the teachers' room.

"Sit." Okay. Comfy couch. Ten minutes... twenty minutes... an hour... two... lunch time! "Come." Up two flights of stairs and into line, quickly: Rice, yes. Kimchi, ok. Green vegetable, yes. Fried fish, no. Corn, yes. Soup... maybe... huge chunk of pork shank, no! Whew, that was close. We were told not to leave any food on our plates at school lunches. I cleaned my plate. My coworkers did not. Thank God. That would be a lot of pressure on some crazy food day-in and day-out. We were told to eat quickly, that Koreans do and they don't like to wait around once they were done. I do eat fast. Really fast. I'm always the first done. I ate extra fast at this meal and came in second to last at the table (with Melanie last). I'll have to work on that. My stomach hurt after lunch, maybe because of the food, maybe because of the speed eating, maybe because all I did today was sit on a leather couch.

After lunch, back to the teachers' room. All morning, and all afternoon, we were with a new Korean teacher, Park Gong Ju. She had an electronic Korean-English dictionary and we had a Korean phrasebook. So we studied Korean and she English and we got to know each other surprisingly well. We made plans to go mountain climbing with her and her husband. Sweet. In retrospect, my biggest mistake last time I was in Korea (I taught for a year in an after school academy in Busan, a large city on the southern coast) was not making Korean friends. I did, but not until late in the year, which meant I didn't learn much about the culture or the area. Which was lame. I'm determined to right that this time around. So we're going mountain climbing with Park Gong Ju. That was the accomplishment of the day, and really almost all we did. We introduced ourselves to the student body, sat around for 3 hours, ate lunch (for 4 minutes), sat around for 2 hours, walked around the school with Park Gong Ju (who is also new), sat through a teachers' meeting (a real test to my ability to stay awake), and then went out to dinner with the school.

It seems that the first of each month they have a teachers' meeting and then go out for "bowling, eating, or hehehehe". It was baked fish the first night we got here, fried fish tonight. Good fish. And good fried pumpkin. And good lettuce wraps. Head Master tricked me into eating a very spicy chili, and we had many soju "gombae" - cheers. The matriarch drove us home, and it turns out she's pretty good with English. Not that she can complete a sentence or understand more than the most basic phrases spoken very slowly, but she can communicate, which makes her the second we've met at the school. We agreed that she would teach us Korean and we would teach her English at her apartment. Score.

We got home at 7:30, eleven and a half hours after we had left... a very long day for having done very little.