Koreans take education serious--WAY more seriously than anything I've ever encountered before. Even in higher levels of academia, I've never seen the end-all-be-all, your-fate-depends-on-this-test attitude until I came here. From students walking like zombies from lack of sleep and fueled by packets of Maxim gold, to parents coming to pray outside the schools, there is a loom and doom that far outweighs any excitement or enjoyment in learning.
And now I get to experience the level of importance in my role as an educator first hand. Today, I will be shipped off to a hotel with four other teachers, sequestered indoors with no communication with the outside. Why the seclusion? Because we are preparing the entrance exams for the student applicants to the highschool. My precise job? Write 2 interview questions (already did it) for the one student who is applying to the advanced program, who is guaranteed into the program already. But just in case we aren't trustworthy enough, the school board can't risk us potentially leaking the questions. Just in case, they better keep us locked up for 24 hours...
Showing posts with label GFLHS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GFLHS. Show all posts
Monday, November 8, 2010
Monday, May 31, 2010
little streams
I just instructed my night class genius 1st graders to write stream-of-conscious for the next fifteen minutes. Instead of watching them stare at their keyboards, terrified of trying to think of an idea, translate from hangul to english, through to keys, and never hope to finish in the alloted time of the test, I threw another winger at em. Blur the lines of the systems, the rules, the way-it-is-was-and-ever-shall-be that runs this country, and you'd think I'd set fireworks off under the casket at a funeral. Utter confusion.
The first night I had the class, feeling entirely unprepared (thank you dynamic korea) I pulled a jewel of a creative writing exercise out of my ass (thank you Imad, for all those journals you made us do) and basically made them write backwards mad-libs. They came up with random words (a not-so-surprising number of them involving Paul McCartney and the Beatles due to Angela's obsession), and I made them put those details into a chronological story. Voila, a lesson on a basic, forward-moving argument. Just remember guys, the examples of an essay are a lot like those random details you had to work into your story. Just make it make sense. Just try. Don't worry.
Well, after a bit of coaxing, a LOT of explaining (they are always so worried they will get it wrong, even when they are dead-on) and encouragement TO THE MAX!!! they began typing away at the exercise. The stories they sent me (after about 35 minutes of writing) revealed a creative, witty, and quite talented group of students. In fact, I find that in all of my teaching here at GFLHS, shaking things up a bit and saturating them with positivity produces the most entertaining, refreshing, and rewarding results.
So here I am, sitting and watching their fingers turn into little tentacles of their brains. I am hoping they are using this not just as a typing and writing exercise, but are getting some kind of meditative magic out of it. I hope that they are handing over any bits of stress, of anxiety, tiredness, moans of mock-tests, and tears for weekends home. I hope this becomes therapy (ha, since I seem to fail at keeping up with my writing, maybe that is indicative of how little therapy I need in this stress-free life I now live)
But maybe I should be careful about placing them in a box as well. I love it when my students surprise me.
The first night I had the class, feeling entirely unprepared (thank you dynamic korea) I pulled a jewel of a creative writing exercise out of my ass (thank you Imad, for all those journals you made us do) and basically made them write backwards mad-libs. They came up with random words (a not-so-surprising number of them involving Paul McCartney and the Beatles due to Angela's obsession), and I made them put those details into a chronological story. Voila, a lesson on a basic, forward-moving argument. Just remember guys, the examples of an essay are a lot like those random details you had to work into your story. Just make it make sense. Just try. Don't worry.
Well, after a bit of coaxing, a LOT of explaining (they are always so worried they will get it wrong, even when they are dead-on) and encouragement TO THE MAX!!! they began typing away at the exercise. The stories they sent me (after about 35 minutes of writing) revealed a creative, witty, and quite talented group of students. In fact, I find that in all of my teaching here at GFLHS, shaking things up a bit and saturating them with positivity produces the most entertaining, refreshing, and rewarding results.
So here I am, sitting and watching their fingers turn into little tentacles of their brains. I am hoping they are using this not just as a typing and writing exercise, but are getting some kind of meditative magic out of it. I hope that they are handing over any bits of stress, of anxiety, tiredness, moans of mock-tests, and tears for weekends home. I hope this becomes therapy (ha, since I seem to fail at keeping up with my writing, maybe that is indicative of how little therapy I need in this stress-free life I now live)
But maybe I should be careful about placing them in a box as well. I love it when my students surprise me.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Staff Meetings
In Korea, staff meetings are not announced through an office memo in advance. They are day-of telephone game pass alongs. Last Monday, my first Monday teaching, Kim Dong Il, Nicholas Cage in English (and my favorite of the English staff) told me to pass the news on to Woody that we'd be meeting that evening after school. Where? Don't know. Ok. By the end of the day we'd gleaned enough info to meet June in her mini car at the green-awninged convenience store on the corner of our street. She proceeded to drive Woody and I over Geumo San mountain, past hiking trails and campgrounds (note made) to a traditional-style duck restaurant. I figured this out by the banner displaying a row of easter-white ducks (live for once, not happy cartoons).
Inside, shoes off (yay for normal socks that day), red slipper sandals on. Into a large, extended room with three long rows of tables and--oh yes!--chairs! Each table had its own burner, several dishes of garlic, greens, kimchi of many colors, a sweet potato salad I personally destroyed, bottles of beer (Hite, not Max), Soju, and cider. The English teachers already posted up at the end of the far table. Sit. Drink. NO water for you, Alissa. No, you are new. Beer it is. No problem.
I wiped my hands with the wet towel. Waited around for the cue. Oh, I guess I missed it. Eat Eat! Ok ok!
We all stab and grab at the salads. Soon enough the host brings strips of duck to lay on the burner in front of me. Looks good. Still not interested. Then #1 (Principal big boss man) comes to say hello, welcome me and encourage me to eat eat eat that duck. Nos be damned, I still agreed. Waited for him to leave, then continued to eat everything meatless on the table. Rice came. Soup. And refill upon refill.
Introduction time. At a mic and platform at the front of the room, each new teacher (7 in all, me of course, saved for last) was called up to make a speech. Mine, with the interpretation aid of MaryAnne (Korean English coteacher) went a bit like this: Thanks so much! I'm so excited to be here. I'll do my best. I really look forward to eating with all of you in the cafeteria.
Good speech I'm told.
Eating continued. Then Soju time. Shots at the table. Shots traveling around. #1 and #2 come to each of us to be sure we toast. #1, never tiring of "bottoms up" and "cheers" spends a good minute with me. We mingle as much as we can mingle, but I stick mostly to the english teachers. But most of them clear out to take care of kids since they didn't have notice to arrange for childcare. This leaves Woody and I with several of our male coworkers, #1 and #2, and the wildest bunch of partying karaokeing lunch ladies I've ever seen.
Oh yea, #1 would not let me by without a song. So, after much soju and scanning the book, I convince him to come up with us. "8 Days A Week" a la Me, My Boss, and Woody with a bottle of Soju in Hand. We quite easily beat the Beatles in our version. A little time after, sitting at the table with wobbley versions of Kpop chart toppers as our soundtrack, the principal turns to me to and says, "Alissa. You are very good at drinking." Laughs laughs laughs. I'm pretty sure this man thinks I'm the coolest, craziest, strangest thing EPIK could have delivered. If not for my English degree and good grades, he might have turned me away on the spot--I'm glad I keep impressing him.
After a bit, apologies are continually given that this is not the best kind of party because it is too late notice and we have to quit early. A small group of male teachers and Woody and I vanned it down to the nicest norae bang I've been in. Blue lights and fruit plates and more soju.
I tambourined it up. Those teachers got perfect points on their karaoke too.
A call from Boram gave Woody and I a ticket to leave. She picked us up, dropped me off. I'm feeling fantastic and it's not even 10:30. What a night.
Next morning, bright and early, I meet the other teachers. A week of work--if you can call it that-- and we have coffee breaks and share sarcasms around the office. June constantly tells me I eat like a little kid (mostly because I like chocolate and ice cream so much) and I constantly complain about the crappy coffee. We eat fantastic korean lunches together in the cafeteria, sharing small bits of conversation with the non-english teachers, learning bits of the language and mastering the chopsticks, while June constantly says, "Alissa use your spoon." No one gets up until everyone at their table is finished--but if you're over the line on the next table, they leave you. If it's warm and nice we stroll by the mountain. It's a good dynamic.
Last Thursday they announced we would be having our English meeting after school. Again, by meeting, they meant dinner. Much milder this time, though. We crossed the street to some giant mushrooms that were really buildings. Shoes off. Crap. Neon-skull-halloween-socks day. No slippers. Those got me some laughs, thank you mom.
The four of us who were early sipped jasmine tea and pronged at the salads and kimchis while we wait for the rest. My favorite: pickeled lotus root. Sweet and tangy and delicious. They brought a huge bowl of fishy korean spaghetti (I can't even try to remember these names) and rice.
When everyone else made it, we hurriedly stood up for #1 and #2. Pops of the knees and back and then we're sitting right back down again.
This one was much more low-key. Of course I was already full but, eat eat. Korea's hospitality is making me fat for sure. Then followed the Hite and toasts. I'm a heroine, I was told. Awesome. I'll take it. I gave a little speech, promising to do my best (no lie!) and we make small talk about the school, and everyone acted quite comfortable.
I was in the middle of failing at picking up a piece of lotus when someone finally got my attention--I'd found that the principal and everyone else was standing up. Dinner is over. That's it. Done.
What about all that food? But no, when he's done, we leave. Protocol.
We trickled out. Many many thanks. I'm stuffed.
Woody and I walk home. The other teachers have to go back to school! they are there so much it must make them crazy. But they smile, laugh, joke and seem to really love the students. And every morning they are there before Woody and I. Always working hard, just punctuating it all with jokes and smiles.
Yesterday, shortly after I had helped MaryAnne with some editing (it's wonderful being the expert at something!), the computer speakers are turned up and an impromptu 5minute dance party is announced. Woody sits and laughs as June, MaryAnne, Lilly, Sarah (all various middle-ages of Korean women) and I dance and kick and jazzercize it out right in the middle of the English office. Guemo san mountain smiled at us through the window. That was my favorite 5 minutes of school so far. Awesome.
I'm bringing in an exercise ball to sit on at my desk. They all love it, think it's a ridiculous idea, and already have plans of kicking and throwing it all over the room.
Welcome to the English Office at Gyeongsanbuk-do Foreign Language High School.
Inside, shoes off (yay for normal socks that day), red slipper sandals on. Into a large, extended room with three long rows of tables and--oh yes!--chairs! Each table had its own burner, several dishes of garlic, greens, kimchi of many colors, a sweet potato salad I personally destroyed, bottles of beer (Hite, not Max), Soju, and cider. The English teachers already posted up at the end of the far table. Sit. Drink. NO water for you, Alissa. No, you are new. Beer it is. No problem.
I wiped my hands with the wet towel. Waited around for the cue. Oh, I guess I missed it. Eat Eat! Ok ok!
We all stab and grab at the salads. Soon enough the host brings strips of duck to lay on the burner in front of me. Looks good. Still not interested. Then #1 (Principal big boss man) comes to say hello, welcome me and encourage me to eat eat eat that duck. Nos be damned, I still agreed. Waited for him to leave, then continued to eat everything meatless on the table. Rice came. Soup. And refill upon refill.
Introduction time. At a mic and platform at the front of the room, each new teacher (7 in all, me of course, saved for last) was called up to make a speech. Mine, with the interpretation aid of MaryAnne (Korean English coteacher) went a bit like this: Thanks so much! I'm so excited to be here. I'll do my best. I really look forward to eating with all of you in the cafeteria.
Good speech I'm told.
Eating continued. Then Soju time. Shots at the table. Shots traveling around. #1 and #2 come to each of us to be sure we toast. #1, never tiring of "bottoms up" and "cheers" spends a good minute with me. We mingle as much as we can mingle, but I stick mostly to the english teachers. But most of them clear out to take care of kids since they didn't have notice to arrange for childcare. This leaves Woody and I with several of our male coworkers, #1 and #2, and the wildest bunch of partying karaokeing lunch ladies I've ever seen.
Oh yea, #1 would not let me by without a song. So, after much soju and scanning the book, I convince him to come up with us. "8 Days A Week" a la Me, My Boss, and Woody with a bottle of Soju in Hand. We quite easily beat the Beatles in our version. A little time after, sitting at the table with wobbley versions of Kpop chart toppers as our soundtrack, the principal turns to me to and says, "Alissa. You are very good at drinking." Laughs laughs laughs. I'm pretty sure this man thinks I'm the coolest, craziest, strangest thing EPIK could have delivered. If not for my English degree and good grades, he might have turned me away on the spot--I'm glad I keep impressing him.
After a bit, apologies are continually given that this is not the best kind of party because it is too late notice and we have to quit early. A small group of male teachers and Woody and I vanned it down to the nicest norae bang I've been in. Blue lights and fruit plates and more soju.
I tambourined it up. Those teachers got perfect points on their karaoke too.
A call from Boram gave Woody and I a ticket to leave. She picked us up, dropped me off. I'm feeling fantastic and it's not even 10:30. What a night.
Next morning, bright and early, I meet the other teachers. A week of work--if you can call it that-- and we have coffee breaks and share sarcasms around the office. June constantly tells me I eat like a little kid (mostly because I like chocolate and ice cream so much) and I constantly complain about the crappy coffee. We eat fantastic korean lunches together in the cafeteria, sharing small bits of conversation with the non-english teachers, learning bits of the language and mastering the chopsticks, while June constantly says, "Alissa use your spoon." No one gets up until everyone at their table is finished--but if you're over the line on the next table, they leave you. If it's warm and nice we stroll by the mountain. It's a good dynamic.
Last Thursday they announced we would be having our English meeting after school. Again, by meeting, they meant dinner. Much milder this time, though. We crossed the street to some giant mushrooms that were really buildings. Shoes off. Crap. Neon-skull-halloween-socks day. No slippers. Those got me some laughs, thank you mom.
The four of us who were early sipped jasmine tea and pronged at the salads and kimchis while we wait for the rest. My favorite: pickeled lotus root. Sweet and tangy and delicious. They brought a huge bowl of fishy korean spaghetti (I can't even try to remember these names) and rice.
When everyone else made it, we hurriedly stood up for #1 and #2. Pops of the knees and back and then we're sitting right back down again.
This one was much more low-key. Of course I was already full but, eat eat. Korea's hospitality is making me fat for sure. Then followed the Hite and toasts. I'm a heroine, I was told. Awesome. I'll take it. I gave a little speech, promising to do my best (no lie!) and we make small talk about the school, and everyone acted quite comfortable.
I was in the middle of failing at picking up a piece of lotus when someone finally got my attention--I'd found that the principal and everyone else was standing up. Dinner is over. That's it. Done.
What about all that food? But no, when he's done, we leave. Protocol.
We trickled out. Many many thanks. I'm stuffed.
Woody and I walk home. The other teachers have to go back to school! they are there so much it must make them crazy. But they smile, laugh, joke and seem to really love the students. And every morning they are there before Woody and I. Always working hard, just punctuating it all with jokes and smiles.
Yesterday, shortly after I had helped MaryAnne with some editing (it's wonderful being the expert at something!), the computer speakers are turned up and an impromptu 5minute dance party is announced. Woody sits and laughs as June, MaryAnne, Lilly, Sarah (all various middle-ages of Korean women) and I dance and kick and jazzercize it out right in the middle of the English office. Guemo san mountain smiled at us through the window. That was my favorite 5 minutes of school so far. Awesome.
I'm bringing in an exercise ball to sit on at my desk. They all love it, think it's a ridiculous idea, and already have plans of kicking and throwing it all over the room.
Welcome to the English Office at Gyeongsanbuk-do Foreign Language High School.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Make me feel like more of a queen...
Well, sitting here facebooking (how productive right?) in the final hours of my friday when in walk 4 uniformed students with brooms, mops, opening the windows to air the place out, excusing themselves while they sweep and mop and empty our trash. And I'm saying "thank you thank you thankyouthankyou!" to which a polite 3rd grader replies with proper sounding british tones, "it's our duty."
Did I mention the bells that guide us to our destinations with happy little melodies? The snack and coffee table in the english room? The store downstairs where I make daily trips to get ice cream and chocolate at the recommendations of the other students?
Good good good first week.
Did I mention the bells that guide us to our destinations with happy little melodies? The snack and coffee table in the english room? The store downstairs where I make daily trips to get ice cream and chocolate at the recommendations of the other students?
Good good good first week.
dam near geniuses (haha, what a pun)
Alright, so my first week of teaching at Gyeongbuk Foreign Language High School is coming to a close. All of my classes are finished; Woody and I crossed the dam and took a hike around the lake after lunch, and all this misty mountainside is finally giving me the chance to be a bit reflective.
Back to day one: Tuesday, 8:20am I met Woody at the trash pile (no joke) between our apartments--best landmark we could think of. We walk farther away from downtown, to the edge of Gumi. Geumo-san looms tall over the dam, softer, fuzzier mountains surround us, and the school is there at the end of the street. Four-stories of red-brick and windows, little origami hedges everywhere. Walkways running between the Training institute (where I'll also work) the student dorms, cafeteria, and main school. The English office is on the 3rd floor, where I have a wonderful staff ow witty little korean coworkers, Woody, and a family of strange plants accenting my lovely view of the mountain (currently hugged in an eerie, ethereal sort of mist). I have my own desk, own computer (great since my laptop is broken; the SHIFT button sticks but I can backspace my yells away). I have my own room, the English Oasis, with a computer lab, a giant touch screen tv and maps, tables, comfy chairs, etc. We are serious about our learning.
So, first day, meet the rest of the teachers, besides June, my short and spunky Korean co-teacher (godmother more like). Then it's off to the opening ceremony. I sit next to June and Woody in the rows of teachers on the edges of the auditorium; All the 450+ students (we have a small, elite school in the province) are standing in rows in the middle. They wear uniforms. Giggle. Bow. And, most strange in a school setting: they cheer.
Speech-after-lulling-speech goes by (and I actually keep my eyes open, despite not understanding a word of it all, unlike many of my neighboring co-workers). Then, after all the big-boss men have had their say, after the Korean and school songs have been sung and a small student band performed, it is time to introduce the teachers.
New teachers first: We line up in a row on the stage, and one-by-one they call our name and we are to step forward. All the new Korean teachers step forward, do a quick bow while they are cheered, then step back. My name is called, I step up, give a sheepish wave, big ol' grin, then have my go at a bow. The kids go WILD. They scream for me like a rockstar. NEVER have I had so many little faces make me feel like MJ himself. Here I am, ready to teach. And there they are, little geniuses, so excited to learn.
After the assembly I had only one class for the day. All of my teaching for these two weeks at least will be shared with Woody. Then, we'll split each class and each of us will take 15, then swap half way through the semester. As a foreign language high school, the kids worked incredibly hard to get here (and thousands apply) and their english is damn near impeccable compared to highschools my peers will be working in. And, most exciting, is the fact that it is fairly laid back. No typed up lesson plans to turn in, no stuffy attire, no strict book or syllabus to follow. Our job, get the kids talking. After one week, it's been incredibly easy.
The high school is divided into grades 1,2 and 3 (sophomores to seniors). Each grade has 5 sections of 30 students, and depending on their focus--English, Japanese, or Chinese--we will see them either 1 or 2 times in a week. Grade 3, intensely studying for KSAT, only has English Conversation once/week.
So, this first week was all about introductions. Grade 1, new to Woody as well, we did a guessing game for them to find out valuable information about us (like blood type and our favorite Korean food) and in grades 2 and 3, since they already knew Woody, we let them play a question game where they got to drill me on basically anything they wanted. They talk, they listen, and aside from some seniors so exhausted from studying they're about to fall asleep, they genuinely seem engaged in the activity.
So far, they have cheered for us everytime we come to a class. They laugh at almost any witty bit of sarcasm or even the most simple jokes I throw their way. Things they all want to know about me: where did I get my hair done? Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have a brother? What do I think of Woody? What do I think of my Korean male teachers? What do I think of certain boys in the class? (the hormones really seem to be steering their mind in the direction of attraction here). But it's great. They are so easy to get along with, so easy to talk to--and understand.
And even outside of the class, the celebrity status continues. They all say hi, bow, and smile endlessly when I talk to them.
My coworkers are fantastic too. Super excited and impressed whenever I spout the two or three phrases of Korean I know. And I had a one-on-one with the princiPAL the other day. I'd dreaded walking in there after third period, but hopped on in. Sat in one of the huge cushy leather chairs across his table (super fancy) and chummed it up. We talked family, travels, studies. He gave me a red ginseng drink to make me strong and we practiced toasting and clanking our bottles. And all the while, he keeps stressing how excited he is to have me, how the school only gets the best, and how I need to be happy happy, no stress at all, make this my home for a year. And later, at lunch, he told all the other teachers how great and cheery I am. This place is feeling like one huge ego-trip. Welcome to Gumi.
We have fantastic authentic and fresh Korean food every day. We eat with the teachers. Take walks around the dam by the mountain after lunch. And Kim Dong Il (a coworker in the English dept) took me up to the roof yesterday where he escapes for his secret cigarette breaks (Woody didn't even get that treat). It's been easy to slip into feeling welcome here. And when I'm not teaching, I'm finally catching up on the internet I haven't got at home.
The banner over the entrance the first day read, "Congratulations! You are here all your dreams will come true." (Or something like that). Par for the course.
Back to day one: Tuesday, 8:20am I met Woody at the trash pile (no joke) between our apartments--best landmark we could think of. We walk farther away from downtown, to the edge of Gumi. Geumo-san looms tall over the dam, softer, fuzzier mountains surround us, and the school is there at the end of the street. Four-stories of red-brick and windows, little origami hedges everywhere. Walkways running between the Training institute (where I'll also work) the student dorms, cafeteria, and main school. The English office is on the 3rd floor, where I have a wonderful staff ow witty little korean coworkers, Woody, and a family of strange plants accenting my lovely view of the mountain (currently hugged in an eerie, ethereal sort of mist). I have my own desk, own computer (great since my laptop is broken; the SHIFT button sticks but I can backspace my yells away). I have my own room, the English Oasis, with a computer lab, a giant touch screen tv and maps, tables, comfy chairs, etc. We are serious about our learning.
So, first day, meet the rest of the teachers, besides June, my short and spunky Korean co-teacher (godmother more like). Then it's off to the opening ceremony. I sit next to June and Woody in the rows of teachers on the edges of the auditorium; All the 450+ students (we have a small, elite school in the province) are standing in rows in the middle. They wear uniforms. Giggle. Bow. And, most strange in a school setting: they cheer.
Speech-after-lulling-speech goes by (and I actually keep my eyes open, despite not understanding a word of it all, unlike many of my neighboring co-workers). Then, after all the big-boss men have had their say, after the Korean and school songs have been sung and a small student band performed, it is time to introduce the teachers.
New teachers first: We line up in a row on the stage, and one-by-one they call our name and we are to step forward. All the new Korean teachers step forward, do a quick bow while they are cheered, then step back. My name is called, I step up, give a sheepish wave, big ol' grin, then have my go at a bow. The kids go WILD. They scream for me like a rockstar. NEVER have I had so many little faces make me feel like MJ himself. Here I am, ready to teach. And there they are, little geniuses, so excited to learn.
After the assembly I had only one class for the day. All of my teaching for these two weeks at least will be shared with Woody. Then, we'll split each class and each of us will take 15, then swap half way through the semester. As a foreign language high school, the kids worked incredibly hard to get here (and thousands apply) and their english is damn near impeccable compared to highschools my peers will be working in. And, most exciting, is the fact that it is fairly laid back. No typed up lesson plans to turn in, no stuffy attire, no strict book or syllabus to follow. Our job, get the kids talking. After one week, it's been incredibly easy.
The high school is divided into grades 1,2 and 3 (sophomores to seniors). Each grade has 5 sections of 30 students, and depending on their focus--English, Japanese, or Chinese--we will see them either 1 or 2 times in a week. Grade 3, intensely studying for KSAT, only has English Conversation once/week.
So, this first week was all about introductions. Grade 1, new to Woody as well, we did a guessing game for them to find out valuable information about us (like blood type and our favorite Korean food) and in grades 2 and 3, since they already knew Woody, we let them play a question game where they got to drill me on basically anything they wanted. They talk, they listen, and aside from some seniors so exhausted from studying they're about to fall asleep, they genuinely seem engaged in the activity.
So far, they have cheered for us everytime we come to a class. They laugh at almost any witty bit of sarcasm or even the most simple jokes I throw their way. Things they all want to know about me: where did I get my hair done? Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have a brother? What do I think of Woody? What do I think of my Korean male teachers? What do I think of certain boys in the class? (the hormones really seem to be steering their mind in the direction of attraction here). But it's great. They are so easy to get along with, so easy to talk to--and understand.
And even outside of the class, the celebrity status continues. They all say hi, bow, and smile endlessly when I talk to them.
My coworkers are fantastic too. Super excited and impressed whenever I spout the two or three phrases of Korean I know. And I had a one-on-one with the princiPAL the other day. I'd dreaded walking in there after third period, but hopped on in. Sat in one of the huge cushy leather chairs across his table (super fancy) and chummed it up. We talked family, travels, studies. He gave me a red ginseng drink to make me strong and we practiced toasting and clanking our bottles. And all the while, he keeps stressing how excited he is to have me, how the school only gets the best, and how I need to be happy happy, no stress at all, make this my home for a year. And later, at lunch, he told all the other teachers how great and cheery I am. This place is feeling like one huge ego-trip. Welcome to Gumi.
We have fantastic authentic and fresh Korean food every day. We eat with the teachers. Take walks around the dam by the mountain after lunch. And Kim Dong Il (a coworker in the English dept) took me up to the roof yesterday where he escapes for his secret cigarette breaks (Woody didn't even get that treat). It's been easy to slip into feeling welcome here. And when I'm not teaching, I'm finally catching up on the internet I haven't got at home.
The banner over the entrance the first day read, "Congratulations! You are here all your dreams will come true." (Or something like that). Par for the course.
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