Settling in

I realized today that my double consciousness has gone away. Without me even knowing it. I was turning the corner in the rain this morning, as usual at the very last minute, and the bus I catch for school was already pulling up to the curb. So I made a dash for it and hopped on just in time. The bus drivers here are not any more forgiving to the late mad-dashers than they are at home. I tottered in front of the bus and dug around in my loaded bag for my transit card, swiped it, and stumbled to the back past the morning school crowd as the bus lurched forward. Then it hit me. I just did all that without even thinking about it! The bus was there and I needed to catch it so I ran. I wasn't clutching my transit card for dear life like I normally do in preparation to load the bus, but I managed to get it out, swipe it, and proceed without a hitch. All the while, not even thinking about the fact that I'm a foreigner and I stand out like a sore thumb.

This may sound strange, but up until now I've done everything with a double consciousness- a voice in the back of my head that's constantly saying, "you're a foreigner." Going to the store, using the ATM, getting on the bus- whatever the task, my double consciousness hasn't let me forget that I'm a foreigner, I don't know Korean, and I could do something wrong and make a total fool of myself at any given moment. What if I don't understand how much this milk is that I want to buy? What if no one here buys milk and I look like a weirdo? I hope the ATM machine doesn't eat my card... then I'd really be in a bind. What if my bus card doesn't swipe properly. I'd better have cash in hand just in case. And on and on...

But today I started to feel like a normal, sane person again. I walked through the underground mall without wondering who was staring at me. I stopped to check out some shoes and even asked how much they were. I went to the bank to deposit some money and laughed at how worried I was before. And, I boarded the bus without worrying about looking like a fool. I'm starting to feel at home.

A couple weeks ago my co-teacher approached me about taking a side job teaching a Saturday conversation class twice a month at a third middle school. Drawn by the extra money (I was to get about $26 and hour), I said yes. I didn't want to give up my weekends, but I would still have every other weekend free. It occurred to me that this may not be within the bounds of my contract, as I am barred from taking any part-time jobs or private tutoring gigs outside of my assigned schools. But since it was at another public middle school and was offered to me by my co-teacher, I went with it and signed the contract this past Thursday.

I was promptly invited to go to Seoul with some friends over the weekend and started to regret . my decision. True, I have half of my weekends free but what if the other half is the cool half? But, I had signed the contract so I tried to fill my head with what I could do with the extra $150 a month. Go shopping, I thought. But Saturday is the best shopping day since I lesson plan on Sunday. True, I will have extra spending money, but I won't have as much time to spend it. Hmmmm. My brain went on like this for hours. I am notoriously bad at making up my mind. But before you tell me what a pain that type of person is, just imagine being one for a minute. Should I have? Shouldn't I have? Will I regret it? Will I get another chance to go to Seoul? What if I just don't show up... what can they do? Eventually, in true Korean style, I just stopped worrying about it and decided to let it be. Something I am getting better and better at.

The next morning when I arrived at school, things seemed tohave worked themselves out. All because I let it be. Hey! This Korean go with the flow thing is really working out! My co-teacher turned to me and said she had some bad news. The vice-principal had pulled out my contract and located where it said I could not work side-jobs and said I could not work at any other school but the two I was assigned to. Oh, bummer. That's too bad. My co-teacher then told me that although the vice principal had said this, she had "spoken" to the Daejeon Office of Education (technically my employer) and they had said it was okay. It sounded fishy to me, but it got even fishier. She told me I should keep the contract with the third school, just pretend I'm not working there in front of the vice principal. He is too busy to know anything, she said. I told her I wasn't sure if I was comfortable deceiving the vice principal, but agreed to go ahead and teach the first Saturday class since they were relying on me. I know what you're thinking. That I just wanted to get out of the whole thing and was using this uncomfortable with deceptetion thing as a handy excuse. In a way, yes. That extra money was looking less and less appealing as the day wore on. My students had a major case of Friday cabin fever (which is odd to me since they all go to class on Saturday anyway) and weren't paying attention in class at all. I felt like a crummy teacher for not being able to keep control, and all I wanted to do was sleep. But, I wouldn't be able to this weekend. At least not Saturday. I'd have to be up by 7am again.

And I was. Well, it was more like 7:45 but let's go by when my alarm actually went off. The Korean English teacher from the new school picked me up at 8. She told me that she didn't want me to be uncomfortable teaching at her school, but it was just was my vice-principal likes me so much he didn't want to share me with another school. Really? I was flattered. In that case, I really don't want to pull the wool over his eyes. To settle things, I told her I would need to talk to the Office of Education about the situation and then decide if I can continue teaching there after today.

Then came the lesson. I'll admit, I didn't over-prepare, but I had a couple games and activities to fill the 3 hour class. By the end of it though, I had made up my mind. I don't care if the Office of Education tells me that it's the best idea in the world to fool ,y principal. Count me out!

And now I will mention that the school is an all boys' middle school. I had a total of 11 fifteen year old boys (actually 13 years old if you go by the standard age system). I couldn't get them all quiet at the same time for more than 20 seconds. The only thing that went mildly according to plan was English conversation Battleship (a genius invention I found on www.eatyourkimchi.com). Aside from that hour, it was a lot of punching, throwing paper airplanes, reading computer game manuals, etc. Not a lot of practicing English. Then at the end, they all said Bye, teacher and gave me a cupcake and a soda. These kids are geniuses. They misbehave and give you hell, then do something really cute. It reminds me of that Sour Patch Kids candy commercial. First their sour, then they're sweet. Nonetheless, after teaching 20 periods a week at my regular schools, I just don't have the time or energy to take on this challenge.

If for no other reason than the sake of my sanity, I must let this opportunity go. One can always use more money. But one can also always use the weekend.

Bills and letting it be

I got a slew of bills in my mailbox (actually it's more like a cubby) today. All in Korean, of course. I brought them to school and asked my co-teacher to help me with them. She told me I needed to pay the cable bill at the bank and not to worry about the rest of them. So... I won't. At home I'd be freaking out about getting all my bills paid on time. Here, if they tell me to "let it be" for now, then I'm happy to obey. Not sure when I'll be able to go to the bank to pay that cable bill since banks close at 4pm and I'm still at work then, but I'm just going to let it be.

So in many ways I'm content just letting other people tell me what to do. In other ways, it'really frustrating. Small tasks are often really big pains when you don't speak the language. Like finding index cards, for instance. Last night I went in search of a pack of index cards for some flashcards I needed for a lesson today. No luck, even in the 5 story stationary/office supply store. Either they really don't have index cards in Korea, or they don't call them card-uh. I was pretty pissed off by the time I got home. And to top it off my clothes have been falling apart. I can't blame this one on Korea, but it has happened twice in the same week to new clothes! First, the hem of my black pants came out on the way home from school. (I will blame this on the tailor I went to at home right before I came- the Golden Needle in Alameda if you're interested). Then yesterday the slit in my pencil skirt tore to twice it's original size. At least it wasn't my top that split open. In general, you're more likely to see a butt cheek than a collar bone here. Hopefully my rinky-dink drugstore sewing kit will be enough to patch up my work wardrobe. I'm nowhere near ready to venture into a Korean tailor. I do get paid tomorrow and have been itching to go shopping in the underground maze of shops by my house, but I should probably wait to spend until I see what bills I really will have to pay.

One month mark

Oh, Hayley. You didn't actually think you could outsmart culture shock, did you?

No, I hadn't forgotten Spain and the infamous choque cultural. The utter bewilderment I felt at the lack of urgency when my bathtub was falling through the ceiling of my two story apartment. The relief turned annoyance at my teacher's casual attendance to Feminist Literature class... I just thought that with enough mental preparation and awareness, this time I could avoid all (or at least most) of the frustration, homesickness, and even anger that all the novice expats complain about. While my adventure has not suddenly taken a turn for the worst, and I can't pinpoint any single negative event, this week as a whole has opened the door to the inevitability of some rough times to come. I can't recall the exact time table of the foreigner's experience abraod, with its various peaks and valleys, but something tells me I'm right on schedule. Today is the one month mark and the honeymoon period is beginning to end.

I prepared myself for the food. I prepared to be stared at. I prepared myself to get lost, to have a crappy apartment, to get lonely, to be misunderstood by my students. But I failed to expect that the things that will be the most difficult are the ones you don't expect at all. I claim to be so open-minded and in love with exploring cultural differences, but this past month, while I've been delighting in Korean culture, my American brain (and heart) has been biding its time. I've been reminded that I do not come to another country as a sponge or an eyeglass, happily absorbing and examining the people and their ways. I come as an active bearer of my own culture. So confident in my communication background and knowledge of intercultural theory (seek to describe, not to explain), I truly thought I could be... a microscope for a year.

Last week we were told that all new Native English Teachers in Daejeon will need to participate in a three week training period Monday through Friday from 5-7pm. The training is intended to maximize our co-teaching abilities. Our co-teachers, who have far too much "administrative work" need not attend. Throughout this first week we listened to a couple Korean English teachers share some experiences and sample lessons, and watched videos of "effective" co-teaching. All the while, I've been trying to figure out the point of it, searching for the ultimate message of the program. Most of the models presented thus far have showed the Native English Teacher teaching right alongside the Korean English Teacher. So, I asked today, is the idea that we should strive to have a 50-50 teaching balance with our co-teacher? If so, then I'm failing miserably because the majority of my co-teachers stand in back with their discipline sticks and correct papers while I teach. The response from the instructor? A confused No.

But, seriously, if I'm to give up every evening for 3 weeks then is it too much to know why? A training session for co-teaching you say? Well, I don't feel I'm being trained to co-teach one way or the other. We're merely just "discussing" co-teaching, and not reaching any concrete conclusions about it. If you don't have any message for me, then can I go home for dinner?

Then it hit me. How American of me to desire, nay to demand, that there be a definite agenda behind any mandatory gathering. In the US, we are taught to write essays that clearly support one opinion. State your opinion, present the other side (briefly), give sufficient supporting details to back up your point of view, and make a powerful conclusion. In Korea, students learn to write in a circular manner. There is never an ultimate answer to any question. There is no winning the argument. A standard essay in Korea, much the same as I've found this training session, is just a discussion. I say, get to the point. They say, the point?

It seems whether I like it or not, I'm going to bring American culture, values, and logic to the table. I came prepared to discover and open up to the differences between the United States and Korea. That's one of the reasons I chose an Eastern country. I should be pleasantly surprised then that the differences run far wider and deeper than anyone, including a goofy English teacher on a culture trip, could prepare for.

Bathroom Talk

I went to my first Korean lesson this past weekend and am pleased to say that things are beginning to click. I'm starting to actually recognize sentence structure and separate syllables I hear into words. Even better, I'm getting used to the pronunciation. What seemed like mouthfulls of the same awkward sounds are slowly becoming familiar and pronounceable chunks. You really have to train your mouth to create a whole new set of sounds.

The class is very informal and meets Saturday afternoons at an English Cafe where Korean students usually go to learn and practice English. In small groups we basically learn what we want to know. I wanted to know how to say Where is the bathroom? So, I learned it. And I've been repeating it in my head, along with a few other phrases, ever since. And so far they've stuck! I knew my co-teacher would ask me what I learned today since I told her I was going so I wanted to have a few things down pat to impress her with. I would say the most frustrating thing about learning Korean (albeit haphazardly) has been trying to make the words and phrases stick. This goes back to familiarity however. The more my ear becomes accustomed to the sounds and my tongue to the production of the sounds, the more I'm remembering. Bowing for greetings, putting my side-dishes in the correct spots on my lunch tray, and using chopsticks are all also becoming more familiar and I don't even think twice about these things now.

Back to bathrooms, as today was Monday and I was at my secondary school to teach, I was reminded of a topic I meant to address last week but never got to- the bathrooms. Difference between my main school and secondary school- the bathrooms. My main school's first floor bathroom is covered in potted plants and while the smell of decaying plant is anything but pleasant, I would almost prefer an actual jungle to the bathrooms at my Monday/Tuesday school. They are the unavoidable non-western toilets I'd read about in travel books and expatriate blogs. In plain terms, the squatters. There are stalls, but in place of toilets are horizontal urinals on the ground. Yes, I've looked in all the stalls and on every floor. That's all there is. And this is the school with the smart-touch board and 3 mounted flatscreen TVs in it's specialty English Lab (a picture of which I chose to include in place of one of the bathroom). It's a wonder. But, I'm taking it in as part of the experience. If it's the real Korea, then I'm happy to live with it. Just glad I get normal toilets for at least 3 out of the 5 school days.

And the truth is, the students make everything worth it. I found myself cracking up throughout my lessons today. The students are just so silly and jovial, especially at this school, and their laughter is contagious. I left early during cleaning period today to open a second bank account so I can finally get a cell phone (long story). I walked out to pop music blaring in the halls and girls happily sloshing mops down stairs and falling out the windows shouting Bye, Sullivan! at the top of their lungs. I smiled and thought of how hard it will be to leave them. Especially since more and more I'm thinking I will continue to teach back in the US, and I know I will never find a school like this at home.

How is the weather in Korea?

Snowing, actually. Since my apartment window looks straight out to another building, I was shocked to see snow piled on top of cars and along the roads this morning when I got outside. I though it rather fitting for the lesson on weather that I'd been preparing. How is the weather in Korea? Crazy. I've finally made some sense of the 5 umbrellas that were left in a cabinet in my one-person apartment. You never know when it will rain... or snow. So, one umbrella at each school, one in my bag and two for when I inevitably leave one on the subway. I'm all set.

Unfortunately I have a camera curse and always abandon my camera on days when I could have used it. My bag has been getting more and more stuffed each day so to save space my camera got the boot this morning. I immediately regretted my decision when I got outside as I would have liked a picture of my street with a pretty layer of frosting over it. I said before that the city looks better in good light. I'll add to that now- white is it's color. It was still lightly snowing this evening so hopefully it will look the same tomorrow.

I was able to leave early from school today with my co-teacher to go the immigration office and pick up my alien registration card. The bus was packed with middle and high school students. I'm able to identify their school by the color of their plaid. So, although out of the 400+ students I teach I have memorized two names, I know which girls go to my schools at least. They wave and try to work out in giggly Korean how to ask me a question in English and then push one of the braver girls at me. I'm here to get them to speak English so I'm doing my job just by riding the bus.

Later on at the cell phone store my co-teacher and I sat around for over an hour waiting for them to activate new my phone. I had a cup of sugar with coffee and listened to people speak Korean. Suddenly a man in hospital wear dragging an IV stand with him rushed in. It was finally my turn to stare at someone. But no one, including the 2 clerks, acted like anything was odd about this. From the looks of things the guy was there to pay his phone bill. He handed over some bills, dropped the change on the little round plate on his IV (no pockets in hospital pants) and left. Back to the hospital I hope. There's another picture I would like to have taken- man in white cotton hospital set connected to an IV, clanking down the slushy sidewalk in the snow.

View from the hill

Today was my first day at my second school. It was a bit sunnier than it has been so I was able to take some decent photos and included a few that I took from the 4th floor. This city is a little like me... it looks so much better in good lighting.

The vice-principal from my first school drove me over and introduced me to to the Principal and English teachers at the new school. It is a strange thing being introduced when you don't know what is being said. He could have been saying, she's a pretty girl but hasn't got a clue so good luck to you for all I know. During the ten minutes of them talking about me, I sat there and sipped my sugar with 3 granules of coffee and struggled to make out a few words- Sullivan, California, Seohwan (the district I live in). As uncomfortable as this may seem (especially since I don't know whether I need to actually look at the person who is technically asking me a question), it is oddly liberating. I can sit there with a dumb look on my face for a perfectly good reason. In the teacher's lounge I can completely zone out and not worry about anything being said. Actually, I will mention that it appears that no one actually pays attention when the important people are talking (i.e., the Principal or Vice Principal). I am the only one who looks up when they address the teachers and I don't even understand a word that's being said. I guess it's a sign of rebellion to look a superior in the eye. Everyone sort of just carries on with their work throughout the speech. As usual I quickly follow suit and turn my face back to my computer, but this is one thing I will never get used to. Directly giving the impression that you are not listening is simply... well, foreign.

The students were thankfully a bit calmer at this school but perhaps the shock has just worn off and I'm slowly becoming immune to their exhausting energy. Like the constant sound of water flowing through pipes and the refrigerator gurgling in my apartment all night long, the shrieks and giggles have become part of the soundtrack of my Korean life.

A couple of tips

Not much energy to write anything special today. I would love to take a relaxing shower after a long day at work, but showers have become remarkably less appealing to me since moving into my apartment. Having to hold the shower head while standing in front of the sink and inevitably soaking the entire bathroom is not very soothing.

So, I will just offer up a few tips about Korea from my experience thus far:

1) Chopsticks go on the right.

2) Bare feet are out of the question (I'm waiting to see how this plays out come summertime).

3) Mealtime is for eating. Don't expect more than a dixie-cup size beverage. Unless of course Soju is on hand in which case you will have a shot glass size.

4) The little puffy mats in front of the shoe shelves everywhere are for you to stand on as you take your shoes off. Let's call them transition mats. Step out of your shoes, onto the mat, then into the room you are entering.

5)If you don't know your blood type, find out! They will ask you.

6) If you don't like your age, be prepared to give a different one... often. And, in Korea, you are 2 years older than you thought you were. Sorry.

7) Don't be put off if a Korean tells you you'd better do something. You'd better leave early for work. It would be better if you took this route. This is thought of as a way to make a polite suggestion in English. Clash of cultures here.

8) Don't put your rice in the soup bowl.

9) Like sweet coffee. The little packets of instant coffee that you just add water to are convenient, but 75% sugar here.

10) Be prepared to sing. I haven't had to yet, but sooner or later I will have to sing for my students. Karaoke is popular to say the least.

First day of school

All I can say is, if you don't like meat/seafood/drinking you can get the hell out. Of Korea that is. My first day of work began at 7:30 am when I arrived with my co-teacher. She picked me up in a taxi so we wouldn't be late. It was an early day because there was an opening ceremony with the Principal and faculty. All the new teachers, including me (and thankfully my co-teacher who stayed by my side), were introduced and had to say a few words.... in Korean. I'm pretty sure no one could make out what I read off the post-it note in the palm of my hand. We then had to issue another greeting to the students via video broadcast and walk up to the adjoining High School and meet the faculty there. Everyone smiled and one teacher with some English skills shouted, "Nice to meet you, Sullivan!" They call me Sullivan as last names come first in Korea. And apparently Helen Keller is a popular story in Korea because everyone keeps mentioning her teacher Ann Sullivan when they learn my name.

I didn't teach any classes today. Actually, starting next week I will be teaching at my other middle school on Monday and Tuesday. But, if the girls are as cute and excited as the ones I met today then I'll be just fine. In between classes pairs of students came into the teachers' office and talked to the teachers. I have no idea what this is all about, but I just keep thinking of how the teacher's lounge was forbidden unless of emergency in school at home. Even knocking on the door at recess or lunch was nerve-wracking. Well, here they just waltz on in. They all bowed and said hello to me if I looked at them. Most then giggled and scurried away but a few outgoing ones spoke a few words to me in English. Wow, your eyes!! How old are you? They really are adorable in their plaid uniforms (yes, public school uniforms) and they all share the same longish, thick bowl cut. I am excited to get in the classroom.

A couple of things I must mention for those curious about differences between school in the States and in Korea. First, there is an entire period devoted to cleaning. The students showed up again in the teachers' lounge, swept around our feet and washed our coffee mugs, watered the plants around the school (and there are a lot- like 50 potted plants on the ground in the bathroom), and did whatever other duties were assigned to them. And they did it with a smile. Squeals and giggles persisted for the entire hour. Second, teachers keep toothbrushes in a medicine cabinet in the bathroom and brush their teeth after lunch. Third, everybody bows- constantly. Fourth, the principal and vice principal are god.

So, I was a bit nervous when I found out there was an all-faculty dinner with the principals after school today. We'd been warned about eating/drinking customs throughout orientation. Never refuse a drink offered to you by an elder, accept everything with two hands, never pour your own drink... But, it wasn't nearly as rigid as I expected. How could it be with 13 bottles of soju circulating the tables? The vice principal was delighted that I opted for shots of soju instead of soda. I later made the mistake of turning down a second bowl of seafood stew and he told me (in Korean) that you must eat as much as possible in Korea. This is tough when you're sitting on the floor with legs folded in a tight pencil skirt that's digging into your full stomach, but I took seconds. After bulgogi (beef), vegetables, mystery seafood, and broth to your heart's content, they bring you an individual pot of rice. And, you eat everything again, this time mixed with rice.

Propped on a thin pillow amidst little bowls of saucy vegetables, steaming pots of meat, and shot glasses and green bottles rapidly swapping hands, all I could think was I still can't believe I'm here. That, and I'm so glad it's a short week.